Recently, I visited the Dutch paint manufacturer Old Holland.

Founded in 1664, Old Holland is renowned for its high-quality oil paints, watercolors, and acrylic paints.

I had a romantic image in mind: an old factory building where time had stood still. But Old Holland is actually housed in a very ordinary, even somewhat dull, industrial building on a business park in the heart of the Netherlands.

Upon arrival, we were welcomed by Aquil Copier. He leads the factory tours, has a long history in the paint industry, and is also a highly creative and accomplished artist.

Over a cup of coffee, he patiently answered all our questions. It quickly became clear that Old Holland places great value on the craft of paint making, something we would see throughout our visit. Innovation is not a priority here, although the raw materials have naturally changed considerably over the centuries. Old Holland is often referred to—though not by the company itself—as the Rolls-Royce of paints.

“Sometimes the price reflects that as well,” I joked.

Aquil laughed. “After the tour, you’ll understand.”

The demonstration room features an entire wall of cabinets filled with Old Holland products. I must admit, all those paint tubes made me feel rather tempted, especially when I spotted the special edition paint box. But at €4,500, it was a bit beyond my budget. Besides, it was almost too beautiful to use.

Old Holland’s largest market is the United States. The father of the current owner once shipped around a hundred demonstration boxes to America and then personally visited every art supply store he could find. After a year, the shop owners were free to return the boxes, but with only a few exceptions, nobody did.

After our question-and-answer session in the reception area, Aquil took us to an adjoining room that houses a small museum. Here, visitors are introduced to the history of the paint industry. Aquil showed us pigments such as lapis lazuli, ivory black, madder lake, and other remarkable raw materials that were once used—and, upon request, are sometimes still used—to make paint. This is particularly relevant for restorers of old paintings.

We also saw lead white made according to an old recipe using lead, vinegar, and horse manure. It produced a beautifully opaque white, but many painters suffered lead poisoning as a result. Old Holland still possesses several exceptionally rare historical pigments that it carefully preserves. One day they hope to make paint from them, but the materials are so extraordinary that the price will undoubtedly reflect their rarity. If you have special requirements as an artist, Old Holland is certainly open to discussing them.

Aquil then took us further back in time, explaining how apprentices in the old painters’ guilds used to make their own paints. We admired cabinets filled with pigments collected from around the world. He showed us antique rolling mills, filling machines, and remarkable historical artifacts, including the paint box of Jozef Israëls and a handwritten letter in which the artist praised Old Holland for the quality of its paints.

Time stands still here, and they are proud of it.

Next, we were allowed to visit the factory itself, although unfortunately photography was not permitted. Not that it is a particularly modern factory; on the contrary, the production methods are strikingly old-fashioned. There are no massive production machines or sleek automated assembly lines. There are not even modern automatic filling machines.

He led us into the pigment room, where containers of remarkable colored powders are stored. Some still bear the name Scheveningen, a reminder of the town where Old Holland originally began. These pigments, sourced from all over the world, form the color palette of the paints.

We then arrived at what is probably the most modern piece of equipment in the production hall: a digital scale that weighs ingredients to within a tenth of a gram. The pigments are mixed with oil in waist-high drums and blended for hours into a paste—sometimes thick, sometimes thin, depending on the ingredients.

The mixture is then passed through rollers, producing the glossy paint paste that is eventually used to fill each tube. Not on a conveyor belt, but by hand, one tube at a time, after which the tubes are crimped shut. According to the company, machines struggle with this exceptionally dense paint, which is packed with pigment. Whether that is truly the reason, I cannot say, but why change something that has worked well for centuries?

Everything about the process reflects a deep respect for craftsmanship, and they are proud of that.

No Pre-Printed Labels

On racks throughout the factory are white boards holding sheets of paper painted with samples from the latest production batches. Once the sheets have dried, they are cut into strips, which are then applied to the tubes one label at a time by three women.

This means you know exactly what the color inside the tube looks like.

There are no pre-printed tubes; instead, each label has been painted with the actual paint and then passed through the hands of one of these three women. Knowing this, I now look quite differently at the tubes in my paint box.

After visiting the factory—or perhaps more accurately, the workshop—Aquil took us to his laboratory. Here, recipes are developed and tests are carried out on durability, lightfastness, temperature resistance, consistency, and much more. There is a great deal involved. Every pigment has its own characteristics and behaves differently during production.

It was break time when we said our goodbyes. The machines stood silent, and the employees were drinking coffee by the factory door, not much differently than they would have done a hundred years ago.