Samenvatting

'From home to marble', BLANCO, Ghent, Belgium, 2017

For several weeks the BLANCO space was used to search for similarities and differences between households from all over the world. More than 500 photos from details in private life were connected to each other.

 

'Duplicate', doubles between Brazil and the world, the 46 postcards were send to the owners, 2017

 

All these objects—-the saltshakers, china dogs, thimbles, pencils, barrettes, ashtrays—had a way of migrating, like the flocks of storks that flew silently over Istanbul twice a year to every part of the world. In the flea markets of Athens and Rome I had seen lighters identical to one I had bought for Füsun—and there were others almost exactly like it in Paris and Beirut. This saltshaker, made in a small Istanbul factory, which sat on the Keskin table for two years, was to be seen in restaurants in the poorer parts of Istanbul, but I also noticed it in a Halal restaurant in New Delhi, in a soup kitchen in an old quarter of Cairo, among the wares the pedlars set out on the canvases they spread on the sidewalks of Barcelona every Sunday, and in an unremarkable kitchen supply store in Rome. What is certain: Someone somewhere had produced the first of these saltshakers, and then others made moles from them for mass production in many other countries, so that over the years, millions of copies had spread out from the southern Mediterranean and the Balkans, to enter the daily lives of untold families. To contemplate how this saltshaker had spread to the farthest reaches of the globe suggested a great mystery, as great as the way migratory birds communicate among themselves, always taking the same routes every year. Another wave of saltshakers would always arrive, the old ones replaced with the new, as surely as a south wind deposits its debris on the shore, and each time people would forget the objects with which they had lived so intimately, never even acknowledging their emotional attachment to them.

(Museum of Innocence, Orhan Pamuk)

Arrived postcards, photo's made by the owners

'A Sudden and Wonderful Brightening', Duncairn Centre, Belfast, Northern-Ireland, 2016

‘Give me carpet any day carpet doesn’t act like a dick’, print on carpet, 120x85 cm

 

‘This room with the carpet concealed by rugs is my bedroom. Each rug is made from the ripped and re-bound rags of strangers from foreign lands. The rug strangers have bigger families but fewer belongings, brighter clothes but dimmer prospects and I feel somehow closer to them than I do the people deflected by my spacesuit in the street.’

(spill simmer falter wither, Sara Baume)

 

'Design for everyone', 2016

An attempt to fit objects back into the Ikea catalogue.

Exhibition 바림 레지던시 2016 : B-Cone, Elien Ronse, Gaain Bahc and HASC, Barimart gallery, South-Korea

 

I’d showered only a few hours ago, so my plastic shower slippers were still cold and damp. The loneliness of this cruel season began to make itself felt, seeping from the black opening of the ventilation fan above the bath, leaching out of the white tiles covering the floor and walls.

(‘The vegetarian’, Han Kang)

 

고시원

[go-shee-won]

noun. A goshiwon is a very small room that students live in while studying for an important test, or if their normal home is far from their school. Goshiwon are usually rented in short-term leases and do not usually include private bathrooms. Often, there is a common room for doing laundry, and some sort of kitchen that also has basic food supplies. Similar living arrangements include goshitel, livingtel, and oneroomtel.

Report 07042016-17052016, installation with projection and 2 mattresses, English and Korean version

Refugee camp Idomeni, Greece, 2016

Beds and bathrooms

 

Report from refugee camp Idomeni, Greece

February 2016

 

A child cries because he wants to carry a backpack.

A fifteen year old girl and a seventeen year old boy have a baby.

A long row to get 1 bottle of water, 2 sandwiches and an orange.

A police woman says the law is changing every day.

About five mothers ask me for milk.

Afghan people are sitting in front of the police.

Around midnight there are still buses arriving full of children.

Drowning women can only be saved by women.

Drying clothes are hanging over the fence.

From Syria literally everyone is fleeing: very young to very old.

He shows photo’s from his house before and after.

He survived 3 attacks from Taliban.

His toes are black and the doctor says there are no medicines for this.

How many times a day do they need to line up?

I can’t warm my feet.

I feel like a tourist.

I never wanna feel this mixture of emotions again.

Many young people wear Nikes.

My backpack for 3 days is bigger than theirs.

One by one people go through the gate.

One woman has freckles and a white skin, we smile at each other.

Our tents are blown away.

Six times Macedonian police sent him back here.

Small pieces soap are spread out.

Smugglers separate families and threaten them if they refuse to split.

Suddenly the camp is full after it was empty for some days.

The big tents are heated.

The boats between Turkey and Lesbos mostly don’t have a captain.

The Kurdish girls all wear a red fleece and have white skin.

The police is never smiling.

The sleeping bag is plastic.

They already have contact with smugglers to go on illegally, no other option.

They can beat me, they can put me in prison, I don’t care.

They clean their clothes and shoes everyday.

They search a place to heat the milk.

They throw garbage on the ground.

This morning he got the news he cannot cross the border anymore.

Trains pass by our head in the morning.

Unbelievable how people start smiling when someone’s singing.

When I gave the oranges I realised how hungry they are.

When it starts raining everyone needs to search for a roof.

When the camp is full, people are sleeping under the trains.

While he tells all this he’s smiling beautiful.