Het Rad in Anderlecht, 2022
At the place where 'the wheel' used to stand, there is now a laundromat with a pink facade. The floor is tiled black and white, the walls are painted in blue.
I always choose machine 22, because I was born on the 22nd. The first time I put the detergent in the wrong container. Fortunately, it came out well. I saw bags from Aldi, Action, Delhaize and Ikea. Is it impolite to look at someone else's dirty laundry?
Sometimes I stayed and waited, sometimes I went out. The laundromat was my entrance to the neighborhood. I collected images of the ends that are tied together, the little delineations in the landscape of Het Rad, La Roue, The Wheel. Human tinkering is everywhere. I look at machine 22, she swishes my clothes around evenly. 12 minutes to go.
Together with writer Arno Boey, for the celebration of 100 years of garden districts in Brussels.
A departure here, means an arrival somewhere else
Metrostop Bourse in Brussels, 2022
I live in the Anneessens neighbourhood in Brussels. Every day my attention is drawn to large numbers of bags being loaded by men, in and out of vans. Bags of all shapes and sizes, wrapped with tape and plastic. What would they contain? Where are these objects going? Who is sending them?
Every day, hundreds of packages leave Brussels for Morocco. An intensive work that for many escapes the eye, because they don't know it or don't need it. An invisble route in and out of the city. I decided to stop regularly on my way home, to photograph the packages. For me, these packages turned into symbolic objects for a world where leaving and arriving has become so common.
Part of the exhibition Areas of Greens and Greys. A self-curated exhibition together with Izra-Marie Jans, Inca Garnica and Sepideh Farvardin. Coached by Pieter Delfosse. Invitation by Zinnema and MIVB, for Qartier.
Onder het dak
Stokveldewijk in Bruges, 2021
While walking in the Stokvelde area, I became fascinated by the 1970's architectural style that characterizes some of the houses. A striking feature here is that the roofs sometimes seem to cover the entire house, from the ground up.
What is hidden under those large roofs? What used to remain invisible? I photographed the interior spaces of these houses, and by lifting these roofs out of the neighborhood as an element, I also respond to another element that fascinates me. After all, in my hometown of Brussels, I am overwhelmed every day by a multitude of images, neon lights and posters. Here, everything is more serene. By declaring these roofs to be "sculptures" and exhibiting them publicly in the neighborhood, I provide a response to this.
Maria, Koningin des hemels
Vaartkom, Leuven, 2021
At the back of a large billboard with car advertisement, my Maria is hiding. The billboard is located at the foot of an abbey on the Keizersberg. The patron saint of this abbey is 'Maria, Queen of Heaven'. A giant statue of Maria looks out over the city from the top the mountain.
I claimed the billboard to make my own interpretation of the Virgin Maria. I looked for photographs in my archive that could refer to the female genitals. In this way, I wanted to engage into a dialogue with, on the one hand, the glorification of the pure, eternal virginity of women and, on the other hand, with the oppressed position of women in public space.
Part of the exhibition LABO#5.
Humans for scale
Harbor of Bruges, 2021
A ship arrives at the harbor. The ship is full of new cars. In one of the cars sleeps an insect that got in by accident. Next to the harbor you see a berm where so called 'weeds' grow. A little further down the verge lies a pile of fast-building bricks. In the sky the track of an airplane slowly disappears. Yesterday I ate tomatoes from Spain.
Part of the exhibition at KONVOOI Festival.