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Interview between Jolijn Baeckelandt, Nienke Baeckelandt and Tamara Beheydt in the artists’ shared studio

17 March 2024.

Tell me about your first experiences with Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and Radicale1924.

Jolijn Baeckelandt: The first time we went to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, in 2022, only Nienke was participating in the Parade. I just tagged along. I did take a lot of photographs there, and after talking with Chantal it became clear that I was going to participate the following year as well. I didn’t have the intention to make a work that first year, but I took photos – like a tourist would – and it turned out that they would come to play an important part in the work I would later develop.

Nienke Baeckelandt: Chantal (Yzermans) had contacted me, first via email. I found it difficult to create a work in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie. I collected rocks, which we brought home. We stayed in the village during summer, but not during the Parade itself. That was impossible for me.

read full interview below or visit Jolijn or Nienkes page.

Which work did you make that first year, in 2022?

NB: I had collected rocks and Jolijn and her boyfriend brought them back to Belgium for me. I made epoxy molds from them and tried to cast them into ice. I made videos of how the stones melted, but I wasn’t completely satisfied. Instead, I decided to present a transparent epoxy version, merging with a smaller original stone, which seemed to ‘melt into’ each other. It was as if the transparent stone was desperately trying to conserve the other one.

That seems very fitting for the Parade, which in itself is also a fleeting event.

NB: My practice always revolves around themes such as melting, transparency, seeing and not seeing, ephemerality of moments. That’s what I like about working with ice. It’s transient, you cannot keep it, whereas other works of art are usually conserved, shown multiple times, maybe sold. There is a lot of beauty in making a work that is temporary. And indeed, it reminded me of the village itself. The stones also reminded me of typical souvenirs, like the crafted wood objects in Jacky’s shop in the village, or like minerals that you can buy in the museum shop at a prehistoric cave or archaeological site.

The work you created the following year, in 2023, is related. This time, you did use ice as your medium.

NB: The work Tasteless came easier to me – I believe because I had already experienced the village once before. I created my own glasses, plates and cutlery in ice and let them melt on Chantal’s table in her garden, where we always sat. I wanted the visitors of the Parade to witness this melting process (and I filmed it). The village itself seems like a frozen memory, there is a strong desire to conserve the heritage, but at the same time, hardly any inhabitants live there all year round. This is contradictory: wanting to conserve the stones, the heritage, but letting the soul disappear from it. And it happens in different places around the world too. In Flanders, I see this contradiction between the will to conserve Flemish heritage, but letting contemporary artists struggle. Anyway, that is what I wanted to show with the work: a frozen memory melting, with the most picturesque view of Saint-Cirq-Lapopie as its background.

Jolijn, was your work also inspired by your experience of the village itself?

JB: It’s so striking, in the village, to see how people come by car in the morning, open their shop or restaurant and go back home to another town in the evening. There is only momentary life. The first time I visited Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, I took polaroid photographs, quite a cliché. Back in the studio, I started scanning and printing them, repeating this process with each new printed result. I often work with patterns and images relayed in different mediums. The photos became the first layer of many, combined with scenic postcards of the village. My printer was broken and this also added to the image. The photos are present in the work, but fade with every new layer. I keep on scanning and printing layer upon layer and ultimately, I draw on them. Finally, I reduced the drawings to the original first layer: the format of a postcard. I added another drawing on top of the reproduced postcards. So, it became an edition but with each copy being unique.

Somehow, several things came together in this piece. I had this idea for a long time, since 2016 I think, to work around the contrast between ‘fiction’ and ‘non-fiction’. For me, this is also related to seeing and the contrast between green and red, which are contradictory colours, but also complementary. The have functions in painting, but also in our society. And I suddenly saw this idea perfectly fitting with Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, where there is a tension between the history and heritage on the one hand, an a kind of ‘Disneyfication’ on the other. I also created a pair of glasses, with one red glass and one green. The glasses are completely dysfunctional, made from cardboard and sticking together with tape. They make a kind of promise, of showing you what is real and what isn’t, but in fact, they’re useless. For the Parade in 2023, I presented these works, accompanied by a banner with the words FICTION / NON-FICTION, on a blanket in the street, trying to sell my work to tourists.

At the same time, you also started a spontaneous collaboration with Corentin Canesson, a French artist who was at the time residing in Maisons Daura.

JB: He was working as a resident at Maisons Daura and had an exhibition there. Chantal introduced us. Corentin’s project revolves around a collection of works, both his and others’. It’s a travelling project with works constantly being added due to spontaneous encounters, such as ours. So, I was invited to add my works in the show at Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and one work to his collection, which now traveled to Switzerland. I am still in touch with him. We are both painters. Content-wise our works are rather far apart, but we do relate.

In the threefold exhibition in 2024, you will both participate on different moments. What are your plans?

JB: I am still developing the works. The ideas are forming, but works usually develop just by doing. I will most likely continue working from those scans and maybe translate them to posters. Again, working with the idea of advertising the village and its tourism, but it would be closer to my own medium than the postcards.

NB: I will participate in the exhibition in May and I plan to show the video of the melting process of my previous work, Tasteless. I am doubting whether I will slow it down or speed it up. In any case, the experience of time will play an important part in it.

How would you describe the general impact of participating in Radicale1924, for your practice?

NB: I especially felt the impact of being there during the Parade… What this project does – it brings you together with other artists, but also people of the village. I was already experimenting with ice, but I really developed it there and made a strong specific work there. It was like a test scene. It’s a Parade, but it’s also a safe environment to show your work. It’s not like in a museum or institution. And because of that, the works usually turn out really well. You do work towards something real and concrete, but you’re allowed to develop it organically.

JB: As a painter, I often work alone and my practice is a bit isolated in a way. In Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, I am getting out. It is valuable to be surrounded by other artists, who are also there to create work. And remarkably, in this place, the ambiguity that I work with anyway becomes tangible, inherent to the context. It’s not neutral in that sense, like an exhibition space would be. And the idea can grow throughout several years of participation, that is a great gift.

NB: We had really nice encounters there. It’s not like at an opening or event here, where you might not really talk to each other. In Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, we eat and work and talk, so you get to know each other on a different level. Just by being in the same environment as other artists, you have a kind of unspoken check-up of your work. You see it in the artistic eco-system, whereas in your studio, you often remain alone, in your own thoughts. Speaking with Chantal is also a good way to spar about the work. That’s rather rare.

Are the works that you created in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie still there? They stayed behind?

JB: Yes, it only seemed logical to leave something behind.

NB: The work with the stones too, yes. It was created for that place so it makes sense. The stone especially: the real stone traveled from Saint-Cirq-Lapopie to Antwerp, and its copy traveled back. Just like the video will now come back one year after the work melting. It wouldn’t make sense to me to show this anywhere else.

Do you feel that your practice is somehow related to surrealism or the practice of Breton?

JB: For myself, my research or experience is really more empirical. I work from life, from the tangible contrast in the village between what is real and what is fictional. The idea of images fading and staying present only in the deepest layers… I think that might be the only link with surrealism.

NB: My research was directed more towards the village and its demographics. Maybe the nature of my work is a bit surrealist, but not on the surface. Other artists worked directly with surrealism or Breton and I think it’s good that there is this balance. What is more important to me, is Breton being there, inviting his friends over. And the fact that his house has been annexed by tourism. It becomes something completely different, like the house of Ensor in Oostende. How do we deal today with the heritage of these artists? That’s what really interests me. Their legacy becomes inscribed in a kind of touristic, and often political narrative.

#⌂mD #⌂mR

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radicale1924 · 2 months

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Interview between Simona Mihaela Stoia and Tamara Beheydt in the artist’s studio

31 January 2024.

An important undercurrent in your work is the relation between humans and animals, or nature, and a sense of loss concerning that connection. A sense of a ‘lost paradise’. Where does that come from?

When I was a child, growing up in a village in Romania, I saw my grandmother harvesting the grain. She left part of the harvest for the deer that she knew would come out to eat later. This had a great effect on my life. I grew up surrounded by nature and animals, and on equal terms with them. This was in 1988. We have evolved since then, but did we get better? We have so much more access to knowledge and information. At the same time, maybe my grandmother had a different wisdom. We understand more scientifically, in school we learn more (my grandmother only had four years of school). But there is a wisdom we lost. My grandmother could say ‘oh, it will rain’ because of the direction of the wind, the smells in the air, etc. She could predict it, and it was always true. It was knowledge, not some sort of sorcery. Compared to that, there is a disconnection happening in our contemporary society. Of course we also enjoy nature, but usually only if it follows our rules.

read full interview below OR on Simona's page.

After leaving Romania and coming to Belgium, you studied painting at KASK and graduated in 2019. How did you know you wanted to paint?

From early on, although I knew very little about art, I felt that painting was the only medium that allowed me to ‘see things’. I knew I could create the illusion of objects, textures, colours, … In the small town where I grew up, the communist mindset lingered on and, for a long time, I didn’t have any access to art except social realism. So, when I wanted to become a painter, everyone around me seemed to think it was stupid. I first finished law school and started working as a jurist in a small company. A lot of my official documents and files had drawings on the edges. All the time, I had this need to put something out there. When I came to Belgium I was painting every day. I was just painting nonsense, I had no plan, but I felt the need to work. Finally, I visited KASK, and it was the first time in my life that I felt at home. The smell of the studios, the people, how they dressed, how they behaved, everything felt normal. So, I dived into it.

From the very beginning, did you want to explore the connection between humans and animals or nature?

It was always there, but I was working on other things. At school, we start from to do life drawing, still life, etc. Toward the end of my education, these themes showed themselves to me. It was subconscious. It was a form of unrest. Something was there, even if I didn’t understand it completely. If I understood it, I wouldn’t paint it. That why we have visual arts. There are things you cannot grasp with language and other communication. I like to leave room for questions. Like a good poem: you understand it at the age you read it, but later you understand it differently. It grows on you.

How did you get into contact with Radicale1924 and how did you travel to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie for the first time?

In the beginning of 2022, I had an exhibition in Antwerp, as a part of a series of shows curated by Hans Theys. Chantal (Yzermans) visited the show and contacted me afterwards. Our first contacts happened through video calls. She told me about the project and it sounded fascinating. I went to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie for the parade in September 2022.

What was your experience of the village that first time?

The village was very impressive, there is a medieval atmosphere, it’s like you step back in time. I stayed for about five days. The first two or three days I just walked around, learned about the local history, etc. What impressed me, was the combination of medieval buildings, but also modernity: there are lots of renovations happening, facilities being built. By walking in the smaller back streets, you realize that the main streets are re-conditioned. It is tricky. All over the village, there are signs of modernity. I visited the church, I think it’s from the 13th century, and went to the river. Two things impressed me a lot, that still haunt me today: this, and the light. And for the piece that I sent over the following year, for the Parade in 2023, I worked around that light.

You have created two works for Radicale1924 so far, one in 2022 and one in 2023. They are both different from you normally do, they are not paintings in the strict sense. Does that have to do with the effect of the context, of the environment, making you want to create differently?

There are several reasons why Saint-Cirq-Lapopie triggered me to do things I never do. Firstly, I didn’t carry with me any materials or canvas etc. Secondly, the place has so much impressions. When I was walking on the streets that were not renovated (and you can hardly walk there), I felt like I was walking in the footsteps of who came before, people 100 years ago, also artists. It is a kind of mirage, it has a power. Thirdly, as a child I was always collecting things I found. I still collect things when I walk and I see an interesting shape. For me it is a way to interact with the environment. Comfort, the work I created in 2022, was an installation. I didn’t have much time. I created the work while being there, in the days before the Parade.

For me, the work was like a painting, with found materials, from everywhere in the village. It is about Saint-Cirq-Lapopie being in constant transformation. We add all kinds of things to it – canalization, electricity – to make it more complete for our era. It becomes like a body. And this work functioned in the same way: it had m&ms, stones, pebbles, figs, etc. There was life in it. I wanted the viewer to experience the installation like the whole body of Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, and it didn’t make sense to make it just with lifeless things. I also weaved plants into it. When I go back, I will have to add to the work – the village will have changed, so the work must too.

Comfort II, my work for 2023, was based on the light. There were moments in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie when I felt like I was on the seaside, because of the colours. There is a particular light ocre colour on the rock that the houses are built with, and then moments later, it can all go dark, greyish. That impressed me. The light is glowing and disappearing and coming back again. Above Maison Routier, there is a sort of garden. From there, you can see the whole Lot valley. The green becomes spring green. And in another moment, it can become a foul green.

This piece was a kind of automatic drawing. I made it back in Belgium, so I couldn’t see the light as it was in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie. I thought it was best to let the subconscious speak, the feeling that I had in my body when I experienced it, which is even better than memory. I allowed it. I experienced the power of the subconscious without caring about a certain aesthetic. There are two important elements in this work: there needs to be light, and the viewer has to have a certain position. Since I could not be there myself, it was up to Chantal to show it properly, and I think she did, even though the work is impossible to capture on photos.

Why did you choose the title Comfort for both works?

I was thinking about the state of the houses and their transformations. For me now, it is almost inconceivable to go to the toilet outside in the middle of the winter. But when I think about it: hundreds of generations did that. They had good lives. Everything we do and add to the village is not essential, it’s comfort. If you talk about essential, then it was good the way it was. I don’t judge that, it’s an observation. We are occupied with much more than our basic needs and it costs much more. My thoughts around this also have to do with Romanian villages, when I was young. The generations of my grandparents, they found a piece of land, maybe given by their parents, and all their friends came together and built them a house, that could stay there for hundreds of years. However, there was no electricity, plumbing, etc. That’s the difference.

You live in a smaller town in Belgium, and you mentioned you felt like coming here because of the village context you grew up in. Here, an artist might be an exception in the community. However, small village of Saint-Cirq-Lapopie has always attracted artists. How does it feel to be there in a community of artists?

Being in a village makes me feel balanced, complete, safe. I believe we have chaos and we have order. For me, to have order I need to be in an environment where I feel safe and the calm of the village gives me that. I can be in a city, but it makes me tired and leaves no space in my mind to be creative.

In Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, you immediately feel you belong. That is also the merit of Chantal, who knows how to put something together, and invited all the artists – all of them were kind people, we had amazing conversations, maybe even more deep than we could have had here in Belgium. Maybe it has to do with an energy of the past, when artists came there and created together, maybe helped each other, found the same safe place. They left their ghosts behind. Maybe that’s the reason the artists today feel good there. I felt in a safe space. Everyone was there to create, to transform. There was a kind of magic. The Parade felt like a pilgrimage. To experience every work and give it time, felt mind-blowing. It’s not like in an exhibition when you are surrounded by works. Here you can experience one work at a time, and as a part of the village, so it gives it power.

Maybe it was like this for André Breton too: a kind of refuge, a place to be safe, be with his art, have a perspective, literally. It’s quite an isolated village, it’s small and on top of a rock. It’s attractive because it’s secluded. At the same time, Breton constantly invited friends. There is a dynamic between getting away, creating distance, but at the same time the generosity of sharing this experience.

Well, think of it as a really good cake. It’s better when you share it with others than when you eat it by yourself in a corner. I think that’s the case for Breton and also Radicale1924. They invite everyone else to experience this. Saint-Cirq-Lapopie was at some point considered the most beautiful village of France with a reason. There is a kind of magic there, you don’t have to be an artist to experience it. Everything is built on top of each other, everything is in layers. The buildings on the hill, but also the vegetation against the stone, etc. It’s almost a fairytale. There is also an artificial side to it, yet the magic is still there, and it makes me wonder, what will it look like in fifty years?

What is surrealism to you, how close is it to what you do? I could see some surrealistic elements in your painting, but at the same time it is very easy to call something “surreal”.

Before going to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, I never questioned surrealism. I knew about it, and it interested me, but I was rather coming back to baroque, expressionism and abstract expressionism. My artistic career hasn’t been very long yet, I graduated in 2019. But Saint-Cirq-Lapopie gave me so much. I read Breton’s First manifesto of surrealism before going there, and I was intrigued by some things in it and by his presence in the village.

I can see or feel that your works are not purely rational thought-out compositions. The work is not cerebral. Isn’t there always a level of the subconscious in your work? Like you are painting something that was always there, in a sense?

The work that I created for Radicale1924 in 2023, as an automatic drawing, seemed natural It was triggered by surrealism because by that time, I was looking at surrealism. And then more consciously, I started looking at my work in general and seeing things that maybe I didn’t see this clearly before. For example, this sense of lost paradise comes with a sense of escapism. This world with all the wars and capitalism is not necessarily nice to look at.

The other important thing I found in my work, is the subconscious. When you have ideas or inspiration, it’s usually voluntary thoughts. The subconscious consists of involuntary thoughts. I have that a lot. Breton speaks of that. It’s like being haunted. Images are formed in my mind and I am triggered by them and other images follow, but I don’t know where they come from exactly. Certain shapes come together, but you can’t trace it logically. This is what I see and experience myself as a level of surrealism in my work.

I go outside, I see things they generate something else. I don’t know why. And then I have to go back out in the real world, and search for subject matter, to actually put on the canvas. That’s the challenging part. The idea is so pure, but when you put it out, it starts to diminish. How do I keep it as sharp, as vivid, as it was in my mind? There is a transparency, an abstraction in my work that is connected to the subconscious. The experience in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie made me see this clearer. I didn’t fully grasp this before. For my art practice, and my awareness of what I’m doing, being there has been extremely important.

What was your experience meeting the other artists who visited Radicale1924 during the Parade? Firstly, I discovered that most of the artists there struggled with the same things I struggle with as an artist. They have the same questions, or had answers to my questions, which means they experienced this themselves. For me this is important, I often feel like I’m by myself. I felt like I was in a community there, there were people that went through some steps that I was going through at that moment. Being there in a group, in a network, meant a lot to me. It gave me confidence.

What do you have planned for the exhibition project in 2024?

I treasure the experience I had during my first stay in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie. Now it is transforming, and I look forward to it. I would like to paint there.

Apart from my studio here in Ottenburg, I only paint in Romania, when I go there in summer. In part, I paint there because it is inevitable. When I don’t paint for a while, I become anxious. The first years that I went back, I couldn’t paint there, but now I confront what is there for me, I can engage in my past. It is like playing also, I feel like a child, thinking ‘what happens if I do this, if I do that?’ There are rivers there, I can swim, bathe my feet, walk around. It gives me peace and a sense of belonging with nature.

There is something in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie that makes me feel similar, because of the general surrounding and the way everything is built manually. Everything there stays local, local-made, not ‘touristic’ is a visibly consumerist way. This is something from my childhood: walking around a village with local manufacturers. There is a sense of pure life there. I walked to the castle and the entire road, I thought about all the labor that went into it: bringing all the stones, the materials up there, etc. When I say I want to paint in Saint-Cirq-Lapopie, I’m thinking about the experience of paint and colour there. I don’t have a specific painting in mind yet, but using the brushes and paint there will be different, will be an experience, I want to feel that.

#⌂mR

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