I'm a Belgian painter, living and working in Brussels.
My work is guided by flaws, fluctuations, small deviations from what is expected. It comes down to catching these and making them visible. I think they are essential in the making of art.
While making art, I produce a fair amount of waste. Such as stencils, painted tape, and scraps of paper with unintended but highly interesting shapes and colors. I then use these to create new work. Or I photograph them and digitally manipulate them, printing and re-cutting the resulting collage. Sometimes I take a photo of what appears on my screen and start from there, incorporating the digital qualities. In doing so, I explore whether the boundary between digital and analog can be defined as sharply as is generally accepted.
More than a fascination with patterns, I have a fascination for the fascination with patterns. Why the floral wallpaper, the Christmas sweater, four identical decorative rims on a car, the wood grains in the fake parquet, the handbag with panther motif, the water lilies floating on your screensaver? Previously, the hunger for regularity and confirmation was perhaps understandable, until the industrial revolution gave us that regularity. From then on, patterns were mass-produced and thus relegated to banality. Does that mean that today's penchant for patterns is a penchant for banality?
A pattern is only interesting when it mutates
I try to mirror the decay and absurdity around us and to dissect patterns in what is left behind.
Sometimes I think that my oeuvre is a premature post-apocalyptic coffee table book.
The most important thing about a painting is the music.
