{"id":20651,"title":"Robert Devriendt - 1997 - Layer After Layer [EN, interview]","dimensions":"4 p.","date_begin":null,"material":"","art_status_id":13,"legal_status_id":47,"category_id":168,"platform_id":1,"deleted":false,"asset_count":0,"stream_count":0,"collection":"Hans Theys Archive / Archief Hans Theys","cached_tag_list":"Hans Theys","publishing_process_id":1,"annotation":"","date_end":null,"reference":"","stream_count_app":7,"permalink":"robert-devriendt-1997-layer-after-layer-en-interview","description_ca":"","short_description_ca":"","description_it":"","short_description_it":"","cached_primary_asset_url":null,"cached_actor_names":"Hans Theys","hide_from_json":true,"prev_platform_id":null,"description_uk":null,"short_description_uk":null,"description_tr":null,"short_description_tr":null,"mhka_works":false,"category":{"en":"Interview","nl":"","fr":""},"poster_image":null,"poster_credits":null,"translations":[{"locale":"en","short_description":"","description":"\u003cp style=\"text-align: justify;\"\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n__________\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHans Theys\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cb\u003eLayer after layer\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nA few words about the work of Robert Devriendt\u003c/b\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026ldquo;Recently I was painting near a pond, when a goose suddenly flew into the air. I had already seen it sitting there, some ten metres away from me. I had seen its head moving through the reeds and now and then I had heard her honking. Suddenly she took off noisily and then dropped into the water. Right in front of me. Dead. I took her home, painted her a few times and then gave her to a taxidermist friend. He would keep her in his deep-freeze for a while because I wanted to paint her one more time. But when I arrived at his house a couple of days later, he had already stuffed her. The news came as a terrible blow. The goose had gone. An emptied thing consisting only of skin is devoid of all expression.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nRobert Devriendt (\u0026deg;1955) and I walk across the Grote Markt in Bruges on our way to his studio. I look at his shoes while listening to his story. They are Bordeaux red.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I grew up on a farm. As a young boy, I once saw the vet remove a calf from a cow by Caesarean section\u0026hellip; I knew that cow. I still remember her name\u0026hellip;. First I saw the cow as something full, something complete, but when they started cutting her open, layer after layer, first her skin and then the other membranes: the peritoneum, the wall of the uterus, etc.\u0026hellip; she became one large, dark cavity\u0026hellip; Nothing but layers of membrane\u0026hellip; and that\u0026rsquo;s what we call reality.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nUnder the mid-length, grey woollen coat with its fine herringbone pattern, he is wearing a carmine velvet jacket and underneath that a waistcoat with alternating bluish-grey and reddish-gold checks embroidered with roses. Underneath that is a white silk shirt whose mother-of-pearl collar encloses a loosely knotted white silk scarf, partly concealed behind a second scarf with patches of muted dark-blue, dark-green and ochre. On his left hand he is wearing a ring set with a red stone. I look down again at the Bordeaux-coloured shoes.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;What would you call the colour of your shoes?\u0026rdquo;, I ask. \u0026ldquo;Is it mahogany?\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not very good at names,\u0026rdquo; he answers, \u0026ldquo;but it is a sort of Bordeaux red. A bit too matt for my taste. There\u0026rsquo;s a bit too much white in it.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;One makes a colour more matt by adding white?\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;There is something misty about these shoes because the top layer of colour contains more white than the ground layer, which is darker. That\u0026rsquo;s how you paint mist. First you paint a dark sky, for example, and then you paint lighter colours over it. It\u0026rsquo;s the opposite of a glaze. To paint a red apple, you first paint a beautiful orange and over it a layer of crimson. That way you get a deep, vivid red. The light penetrates it, goes up to the orange ground and reflects. That\u0026rsquo;s the difference between Jordaens and Rubens. Jordaens\u0026rsquo; matrons sometimes look limewashed. With Rubens the grey is created optically through the various layers of colour. Jordaens comes across as much flatter because of the mix of grey and white in the skin colour. There is also a darker red under our skin. A good painter will first paint a dark layer and add an orange tint on top. The grey comes automatically. That way you obtain a mother-of-pearl tint.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHanging in the studio are scores of works, seemingly positioned at random, as in a swarm without a centre. They are small paintings on wood or canvas, approximately the size of a hand, though each is slightly different in format. The paint is applied fluidly in thin layers, semi-translucent and not really covering. The majority of the paintings are of scenery or of dead fish, dead birds and dead trees, mostly painted from nearby and from different viewpoints. Some of these works I have already seen as part of an exhibition put together by Marie-Puck Broodthaers in Cologne, like the portraits of a fallen, dead tree which was painted from different angles, giving the viewer the impression of being able to walk around it.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I love cubism,\u0026rdquo; says Devriendt. \u0026ldquo;My paintings are natural, not cubist, but I feel a lot for their use of colour, for their contrasts, light against dark, hot against cold, and for that juxtaposition of different views of things, so that you have to put them back together in your head\u0026hellip;\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I also recognize a scenic view of water surrounded by trees.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a deceit,\u0026rdquo; replies Devriendt. \u0026ldquo;It looks like an idyllic spot, but actually I was sitting on top of a concrete sewer from which rats were disgorged at regular intervals by the fast-running water\u0026hellip; It also stank to high heaven.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He shows me another scenic view.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;This one I painted from a boat. I wanted to paint a bank from the water\u0026hellip; It is rather romantic.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He takes a painting off the wall and holds it up to the natural light. It represents a duck\u0026rsquo;s head with a neck that seems to fan out towards the top.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;Our gaze never allows itself to come to a standstill. Recently I have been looking for an image that flows away and yet is close by.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; We look at a painting of a bird lying on its back revealing tousled feathers on its stomach.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m pleased with those matt, grey, velvet tints.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHis forefinger hovers above the painting.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;It looks as if a wind might blow over it, ruffling all the plumelets so that they lie differently. Paint and image flow, but they nevertheless settle on certain points. For example, on the edge of the beak and on the edge of the wing.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Then he points to the portrait of a fish with gaping mouth.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;What I like about this is that the mouth has become a veritable crimson cavity. You feel you could get into it; you can get into it with your finger. An urge to destroy comes over you, almost as if I have wrecked the fish. There is emotion\u0026hellip; When I walk along the street now, I see fish everywhere. People are fish. Do you know that last video clip by Janet Jackson? You should look at her mouth\u0026hellip; Wonderful! What a pretty, beautiful fish!\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He takes a painting from the wall and places it in my hand.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;Take a look at this head,\u0026rdquo; he says. \u0026ldquo;That effect of silver and gold, that purple, that mother-of-pearl throat, that pink tongue\u0026hellip;. Birds and fish hardly change,\u0026rdquo; he continues. \u0026ldquo;They are more or less the same birds and the same fish as in the seventeenth or the eighteenth century, only the context in which I paint them has changed.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; When does something become kitsch? I don\u0026rsquo;t want to be bothered by those sort of time-related questions when I start painting. Which angle am I going to paint this fish from? That\u0026rsquo;s what concerns me. Things look at us. It\u0026rsquo;s about the contact we can have with things and you make that impossible if you constrict it or explain it with concepts\u0026hellip; Look, these are three portraits of a stuffed eagle. Can you do that? Is that deceit allowed? Or is there only this deceit, this illusion, and should we settle for that?\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I look at the stuffed goose in a corner of the studio. Robert Devriendt follows my gaze.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s become a doll,\u0026rdquo; he says. \u0026ldquo;First you see the full animal and then the empty object, as if you have been duped. And then you see the full animal again. It alternates. First you see it and then you don\u0026rsquo;t. It\u0026rsquo;s as if you are not seeing an object, but a mirror of your own disquiet.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nMontagne de Miel, December 28th 1997\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nTranslated by Alison Mouthaan\u003c/p\u003e\r\n"},{"locale":"nl","short_description":"","description":"\u003cp style=\"text-align: justify;\"\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n__________\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHans Theys\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cb\u003eAllemaal vliezen over elkaar\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nEnkele woorden over het werk van Robert Devriendt\u003c/b\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026lsquo;Onlangs zat ik ergens aan een waterkant te schilderen toen er plotseling een gans opvloog. Ik had haar al zien zitten, op zo\u0026rsquo;n tien meter afstand van mij. Ik had haar kop zien bewegen door het riet en af en toe had ik haar horen kwaken. Ineens vloog ze met veel gedruis op en stortte ze voor mij neer in het water. Dood. Ik heb haar mee naar huis genomen en een paar keer geschilderd en dan meegegeven aan een vriend die haar zou opzetten. Hij zou haar nog een tijdje bewaren in zijn diepvries, want ik wilde haar nog \u0026eacute;\u0026eacute;n keer schilderen. Maar toen ik een paar dagen later bij hem arriveerde, had hij haar al opgezet. Dat heeft mij onaangenaam getroffen. De gans was weg. Zo\u0026rsquo;n leeggemaakt ding met alleen maar huid verliest alle uitdrukking.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Robert Devriendt en ik wandelen over de Brugse Grote Markt, op weg naar zijn atelier. Ik luister naar zijn verhaal en kijk naar zijn schoenen. Ze zijn bordeauxrood.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Toen ik klein was heb ik eens gezien hoe ze bij ons thuis een kalf uit een koe hebben gehaald met een keizersnede\u0026hellip; Ik kende die koe. Ik weet nog hoe ze heette\u0026hellip; Eerst zag ik die koe als iets vols, als iets heel vols, maar toen ze haar opensneden, laag na laag, eerst haar huid en dan die andere vliezen, het buikvlies, de wand van de baarmoeder, enzovoort, veranderde ze in \u0026eacute;\u0026eacute;n grote, donkere holte\u0026hellip; Het zijn allemaal maar vliezen over elkaar, en dat noemen we dan de werkelijkheid.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Onder de halflange, grijze wollen jas met een fijn visgraatmotief draagt hij een karmijnrood, fluwelen jasje en daaronder een vest met afwisselend blauwgrijze en roodgouden ruiten met geborduurde rozen. Daaronder draagt hij een wit zijden hemd waarvan de paarlemoeren col een losjes geknoopt wit zijden sjaaltje omsluit, dat zelf gedeeltelijk schuilgaat achter een tweede sjaaltje met gedempte donkerblauwe, donkergroene en okeren vlakken. Aan zijn linkerhand draagt hij een ring met een rode steen. Ik kijk opnieuw naar de bordeauxkleurige schoenen.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Hoe zou je de kleur van je schoenen noemen?\u0026rsquo; vraag ik, \u0026lsquo;is dat acajou?\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Ik ben niet zo sterk in benamingen,\u0026rsquo; antwoordt hij, \u0026lsquo;maar het is een soort van bordeauxrood. Een beetje te mat naar mijn smaak. Er zit een beetje teveel wit in.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Maak je een kleur dan matter door er wit aan toe te voegen?\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Deze schoenen hebben iets mistigs, omdat de bovenste kleurlaag meer wit bevat dan de ondergrond, die donkerder is. Zo wordt mist geschilderd. Eerst schilder je bijvoorbeeld een donkere hemel en dan schilder je daar lichtere kleuren overheen. Dat is het omgekeerde van een glacis. Om een rode appel te schilderen, schilder je eerst een mooi oranje en daarover een laagje karmijnrood. Zo krijg je een diep, helder rood. Het licht valt erdoor, loopt tot op de oranje ondergrond en kaatst terug. Dat is het verschil tussen Jordaens en Rubens. Bij Jordaens lijken die matrones soms gekalkt. Bij Rubens ontstaat het grijs optisch door de boven elkaar liggende kleurlagen. Jordaens komt veel platter over door het wit en het grijs dat in de huidskleur gemengd zit. Onder onze huid zit ook een donkerder rood. Een goede schilder zal eerst een donkere laag schilderen en daarbovenop een oranje tint. Het grijs ontstaat dan uit zichzelf. Zo krijg je een paarlemoeren tint.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nIn het atelier hangen tientallen werken naast, boven en onder elkaar, als in een zwerm zonder centrum. Het zijn kleine schilderijen op hout of doek, ongeveer zo groot als een hand, al hebben ze allemaal een lichtjes verschillend formaat. De verf is vloeibaar aangebracht in dunne laagjes, half doorschijnend en niet echt dekkend. Het zijn vooral natuurgezichten en voorstellingen van dode vissen, dode vogels en dode bomen, meestal van dichtbij en vanuit verschillende standpunten geschilderd. Sommige van deze werken heb ik al eerder gezien, als onderdeel van een door Marie-Puck Broodthaers samengestelde tentoonstelling in Keulen, bijvoorbeeld de portretten van een omgevallen, dode boom die vanuit verschillende gezichtspunten werd geschilderd, zodat het lijkt alsof we er als toeschouwer omheen kunnen wandelen.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Ik hou van het kubisme,\u0026rsquo; zegt Devriendt, \u0026lsquo;mijn schilderijen zijn natuurlijk niet kubistisch, maar ik voel veel voor hun kleurgebruik, voor hun contrasten, licht tegen donker, warm tegen koud, en voor dat naast elkaar plaatsen van verschillende aanzichten van dingen, zodat je ze in je hoofd weer moet samenstellen\u0026hellip;\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Ik herken ook een natuurgezicht met een door bomen omringd water.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Het is een leugen,\u0026rsquo; antwoordt Devriendt, \u0026lsquo;het lijkt een idyllische plek, maar eigenlijk zat ik bovenop een betonnen rioolpijp waar regelmatig ratten uitslierden met het snelstromende water\u0026hellip; Het stonk er ook verschrikkelijk.\u0026rsquo; Hij toont een ander natuurgezicht. \u0026lsquo;Dit heb ik vanuit een boot geschilderd. Ik wilde een oever schilderen, gezien vanop het water\u0026hellip; Het is nogal romantisch.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Hij neemt een schilderij van de muur en houdt het in het binnenvallende licht. Het stelt een eendenkop voor met een hals die naar boven lijkt uit te waaieren.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Onze blik laat zich nooit tot stilstand brengen. De laatste tijd ben ik op zoek naar een beeld dat wegvloeit en toch dichtbij is.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; We kijken naar een schilderij van een op de rug liggende vogel met verfomfaaide verdertjes op de buik.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Die matte, grijze, fluwelen tinten vind ik geslaagd.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;Zijn wijsvinger zweeft boven het schilderij.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Het lijkt alsof er een wind kan over waaien, zodat alle pluimpjes opnieuw anders kunnen gaan liggen. Verf en beeld vloeien, maar toch zetten ze zich op bepaalde punten vast. Bijvoorbeeld op de rand van de bek en op de rand van de vleugel.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Dan wijst hij naar het portret van een vis met gapende mond.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Hier vind ik het leuk dat die mond een echte karmijnen holte geworden is. Het lijkt alsof je erin kan, je kan er echt ingaan met je vinger. Je voelt ook iets van een vernietigingsdrang, een beetje alsof ik die vis kapot gemaakt heb. Er is emotie\u0026hellip; Als ik nu op straat loop, zie ik overal vissen. Mensen zijn vissen. Ken je die laatse videoclip van Janet Jackson? Je moet eens goed naar haar mond kijken\u0026hellip; Prachtig! Wat een mooie, knappe vis!\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Hij neemt een schilderij van de muur en legt het in mijn hand.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Kijk eens naar deze kop,\u0026rsquo; zegt hij. \u0026lsquo;Dat effect van zilver en goud, dat paars, die keel van paarlemoer, die roze tong\u0026hellip; Vogels en vissen veranderen nauwelijks,\u0026rsquo; vervolgt hij, \u0026lsquo;het zijn ongeveer dezelfde vogels en dezelfde vissen als in de zeventiende of de achttiende eeuw, alleen de context waarin ik ze schilder is veranderd. Wanneer wordt iets kitsch? Met zo\u0026rsquo;n tijdsgebonden vragen wil ik mij niet bezighouden als ik begin te schilderen. Vanuit welke hoek ga ik deze vogel schilderen? D\u0026agrave;t houdt mij dan bezig. De dingen kijken naar ons. Het gaat om het contact dat we kunnen hebben met de dingen en dat onmogelijk wordt als je het probeert in te snoeren of te verklaren met begrippen\u0026hellip; Kijk, dit zijn drie portretten van een opgezette arend. Kan dat? Is die leugen gepermitteerd? Of is er alleen deze leugen, deze illusie, en moeten we daar genoegen mee nemen?\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Ik kijk naar de opgezette gans, die in een hoek van het atelier staat. Robert Devriendt volgt mijn blik.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026lsquo;Het is een pop geworden,\u0026rsquo; zegt hij. \u0026lsquo;Eerst zie je het volle dier en dan het lege voorwerp, alsof je beetgenomen bent. En dan zie je opnieuw het volle dier. Het wisselt af. Telkens is datgene wat je net hebt gezien weer verdwenen. Het is alsof je geen voorwerp ziet, maar een spiegel van je eigen onrust.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nMontagne de Miel, 28 december 1997\u003c/p\u003e\r\n"},{"locale":"fr","short_description":"","description":"\u003cp style=\"text-align: justify;\"\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n__________\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHans Theys\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cb\u003eQue des membranes superpos\u0026eacute;es\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nQuelques mots sur l\u0026rsquo;\u0026oelig;uvre de Robert Devriendt\u003c/b\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Derni\u0026egrave;rement, j\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;tais install\u0026eacute; sur une berge en train de peindre lorsqu\u0026rsquo;une oie prit son envol. Je l\u0026rsquo;avais d\u0026eacute;j\u0026agrave; rep\u0026eacute;r\u0026eacute;e au sol, \u0026agrave; une dizaine de m\u0026egrave;tres de distance. J\u0026rsquo;avais vu bouger sa t\u0026ecirc;te \u0026agrave; travers les joncs et je l\u0026rsquo;avais entendue cacarder quelques fois. D\u0026rsquo;un coup, elle s\u0026rsquo;envola bruyamment, puis plongea dans l\u0026rsquo;eau sous mes yeux. Morte. Je l\u0026rsquo;ai ramen\u0026eacute;e \u0026agrave; la maison et je l\u0026rsquo;ai peinte plusieurs fois avant de la confier \u0026agrave; un ami qui voulait l\u0026rsquo;empailler. Il allait la conserver encore quelque temps au cong\u0026eacute;lateur, car je voulais la peindre une derni\u0026egrave;re fois. Mais quand je suis arriv\u0026eacute;e chez lui quelques jours plus tard, il l\u0026rsquo;avait d\u0026eacute;j\u0026agrave; empaill\u0026eacute;e. Quelle d\u0026eacute;convenue\u0026thinsp;! L\u0026rsquo;oie avait disparu. Une telle chose compl\u0026egrave;tement \u0026eacute;vid\u0026eacute;e, o\u0026ugrave; il ne reste plus que la peau, perd toute son expression.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Robert Devriendt (\u0026deg;1955) et moi-m\u0026ecirc;me traversons la Grand-Place de Bruges en route vers son atelier. J\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;coute son histoire et regarde ses chaussures. Elles sont rouge bordeaux.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Quand j\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;tais petit, j\u0026rsquo;ai vu un jour comment ils ont sorti un veau du ventre de sa m\u0026egrave;re par c\u0026eacute;sarienne\u0026hellip; Je connaissais cette vache. Je sais encore comment elle s\u0026rsquo;appelait\u0026hellip; D\u0026rsquo;abord, je voyais cette vache comme quelque chose de plein, comme quelque chose de tr\u0026egrave;s plein, mais quand ils ont commenc\u0026eacute; \u0026agrave; l\u0026rsquo;ouvrir, couche apr\u0026egrave;s couche, d\u0026rsquo;abord sa peau et puis ses autres membranes, le p\u0026eacute;ritoine, la paroi de l\u0026rsquo;ut\u0026eacute;rus, etc., elle s\u0026rsquo;est transform\u0026eacute;e en une grande cavit\u0026eacute; sombre\u0026hellip; Ce ne sont que des membranes superpos\u0026eacute;es, et c\u0026rsquo;est cela que nous appelons la r\u0026eacute;alit\u0026eacute;.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Sous son manteau en laine gris, mi-long, \u0026agrave; chevrons, il porte une veste en velours rouge carmin et sous cette veste, un veston \u0026agrave; carreaux gris-bleu et rouge dor\u0026eacute;, brod\u0026eacute; de roses. Sous ce veston, il porte une chemise en soie blanche dont le col nacr\u0026eacute; est bord\u0026eacute; d\u0026rsquo;une \u0026eacute;charpe en soie blanche nou\u0026eacute;e de mani\u0026egrave;re l\u0026acirc;che, elle-m\u0026ecirc;me cach\u0026eacute;e partiellement par une deuxi\u0026egrave;me \u0026eacute;charpe \u0026agrave; grands carreaux dans de doux tons bleu fonc\u0026eacute;, vert fonc\u0026eacute; et ocre. \u0026Agrave; la main gauche, il porte une bague sertie d\u0026rsquo;une pierre rouge. Je regarde \u0026agrave; nouveau ses chaussures couleur bordeaux.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp style=\"text-align: justify;\"\u003e\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Comment nommerais-tu la couleur de tes chaussures\u0026nbsp;? lui demandai-je, est-ce de l\u0026rsquo;acajou\u0026nbsp;?\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Je ne suis pas fort en d\u0026eacute;nominations,\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo; r\u0026eacute;pondit-il, mais c\u0026rsquo;est une sorte de bordeaux. Un peu trop mat \u0026agrave; mon go\u0026ucirc;t. Il y a un peu trop de blanc dedans.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Est-ce qu\u0026rsquo;on rend une couleur plus mate en y ajoutant du blanc\u0026nbsp;?\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Ces chaussures ont quelque chose de brumeux parce que la couche de couleur sup\u0026eacute;rieure contient plus de blanc que la couche de fond, qui est plus fonc\u0026eacute;e. C\u0026rsquo;est ainsi que l\u0026rsquo;on peint du brouillard. D\u0026rsquo;abord, on peint un ciel bleu fonc\u0026eacute; et puis on repasse avec des couleurs plus claires. C\u0026rsquo;est l\u0026rsquo;inverse d\u0026rsquo;un glacis. Pour peindre une pomme rouge, on peint d\u0026rsquo;abord un bel orange et puis, on ajoute par-dessus une fine couche de rouge carmin. C\u0026rsquo;est comme cela qu\u0026rsquo;on obtient un rouge vif profond. La lumi\u0026egrave;re le transperce, p\u0026eacute;n\u0026egrave;tre jusqu\u0026rsquo;\u0026agrave; la couche de fond orange et est ensuite r\u0026eacute;fl\u0026eacute;chie. C\u0026rsquo;est \u0026ccedil;a la diff\u0026eacute;rence entre Jordaens et Rubens. Chez Jordaens, les matrones ont parfois l\u0026rsquo;air chaul\u0026eacute;. Chez Rubens, le gris na\u0026icirc;t optiquement sous l\u0026rsquo;effet des couches de peinture superpos\u0026eacute;es. Jordaens donne une impression beaucoup plus plate \u0026agrave; cause du blanc et du gris qui sont m\u0026eacute;lang\u0026eacute;s dans la carnation. Sous notre peau se trouve aussi un rouge plus fonc\u0026eacute;. Un bon peintre appliquera d\u0026rsquo;abord une couche fonc\u0026eacute;e et par-dessus cette couche, un ton orange. Le gris appara\u0026icirc;t alors de lui-m\u0026ecirc;me. C\u0026rsquo;est ainsi qu\u0026rsquo;on obtient un ton nacr\u0026eacute;.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nDans l\u0026rsquo;atelier, des dizaines d\u0026rsquo;\u0026oelig;uvres sont accroch\u0026eacute;es p\u0026ecirc;le-m\u0026ecirc;le\u0026nbsp;: les unes \u0026agrave; c\u0026ocirc;t\u0026eacute;, au-dessus ou en dessous des autres, comme dans un essaim sans noyau. Ce sont de petites peintures sur bois ou sur toile, \u0026agrave; peu pr\u0026egrave;s de la taille d\u0026rsquo;une main, m\u0026ecirc;me si elles ont toutes un format un peu diff\u0026eacute;rent. La peinture est appliqu\u0026eacute;e \u0026agrave; l\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;tat liquide en fines couches, mi-transparentes et pas vraiment couvrantes. Il s\u0026rsquo;agit principalement de paysages et de repr\u0026eacute;sentations de poissons morts, d\u0026rsquo;oiseaux morts et d\u0026rsquo;arbres morts, peints en g\u0026eacute;n\u0026eacute;ral de pr\u0026egrave;s et sous diff\u0026eacute;rents angles. J\u0026rsquo;avais d\u0026eacute;j\u0026agrave; vu certaines de ces \u0026oelig;uvres \u0026agrave; l\u0026rsquo;occasion d\u0026rsquo;une exposition compos\u0026eacute;e par Marie-Puck Broodthaers \u0026agrave; Cologne. Y figuraient, entre autres, les portraits d\u0026rsquo;un arbre mort, tomb\u0026eacute; par terre, qui avait \u0026eacute;t\u0026eacute; peint de diff\u0026eacute;rents points de vue, de sorte que le spectateur avait l\u0026rsquo;impression de pouvoir le contourner.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;J\u0026rsquo;aime le cubisme, me confie Devriendt, mes peintures ne sont pas cubistes, bien s\u0026ucirc;r, mais j\u0026rsquo;ai beaucoup d\u0026rsquo;affinit\u0026eacute;s avec leur emploi des couleurs, leurs contrastes, clair sur fonc\u0026eacute;, chaud sur froid, et avec la juxtaposition de diff\u0026eacute;rentes perspectives des choses, de sorte qu\u0026rsquo;il faut recomposer le tout dans sa t\u0026ecirc;te\u0026hellip;\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Je reconnais \u0026eacute;galement un paysage avec de l\u0026rsquo;eau entour\u0026eacute;e d\u0026rsquo;arbres.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;C\u0026rsquo;est un mensonge\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;, raconte Devriendt, \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;cela semble \u0026ecirc;tre un lieu idyllique, mais, en r\u0026eacute;alit\u0026eacute;, j\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;tais assis sur une canalisation en b\u0026eacute;ton qui r\u0026eacute;gurgitait r\u0026eacute;guli\u0026egrave;rement des rats avec le cours d\u0026rsquo;eau au courant fort\u0026hellip; En plus, cela puait terriblement.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Il me montre un autre paysage. \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Cette vue-ci, je l\u0026rsquo;ai peinte depuis un bateau. Je voulais peindre une rive, vue de l\u0026rsquo;eau\u0026hellip; C\u0026rsquo;est plut\u0026ocirc;t romantique.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Il d\u0026eacute;croche une peinture du mur et la tient dans la lumi\u0026egrave;re du jour qui p\u0026eacute;n\u0026egrave;tre \u0026agrave; l\u0026rsquo;int\u0026eacute;rieur. L\u0026rsquo;\u0026oelig;uvre repr\u0026eacute;sente une t\u0026ecirc;te de canard avec un cou qui semble s\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;vaser vers le haut.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Notre regard ne se laisse jamais figer. Ces derniers temps, je suis \u0026agrave; la recherche d\u0026rsquo;une image qui fuit et pourtant proche.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Nous regardons une peinture d\u0026rsquo;un oiseau couch\u0026eacute; sur le dos qui a des plumes froiss\u0026eacute;es sur le ventre.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo; Je trouve que ces tons mats, gris, velout\u0026eacute;s donnent tr\u0026egrave;s bien.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo; Son index plane au-dessus de la peinture.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;On a l\u0026rsquo;impression que le vent pourrait prendre dans les plumes, et les faire ainsi se coucher diff\u0026eacute;remment. La peinture et l\u0026rsquo;image sont fluides, mais elles se figent n\u0026eacute;anmoins en certains points. Par exemple, sur le bord du bec et sur le bord de l\u0026rsquo;aile.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Ensuite, il pointe vers le portrait d\u0026rsquo;un poisson \u0026agrave; la bouche b\u0026eacute;ante.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Ce qui me pla\u0026icirc;t ici, c\u0026rsquo;est que cette bouche est devenue une vraie cavit\u0026eacute; rouge carmin. On a l\u0026rsquo;impression de pouvoir y p\u0026eacute;n\u0026eacute;trer, on peut vraiment y introduire son doigt. On ressent \u0026eacute;galement comme une pulsion destructrice, comme si j\u0026rsquo;avais d\u0026eacute;truit ce poisson. Il y a de l\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;motion\u0026hellip; Quand je me prom\u0026egrave;ne en rue maintenant, je vois des poissons partout. Les gens sont des poissons. Tu connais le dernier clip vid\u0026eacute;o de Janet Jackson\u0026nbsp;? La prochaine fois, tu observeras attentivement sa bouche\u0026hellip;\u0026nbsp;! Quel beau, splendide poisson\u0026nbsp;!\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Il d\u0026eacute;croche une peinture du mur et me la met dans les mains.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Regarde un peu cette t\u0026ecirc;te \u0026raquo; , me dit-il. \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Ce reflet d\u0026rsquo;argent et d\u0026rsquo;or, ce violet, cette gorge nacr\u0026eacute;e, cette langue rose\u0026hellip; les oiseaux et les poissons ne changent pour ainsi dire pas \u0026raquo;, poursuit-il, \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;Ce sont \u0026agrave; peu pr\u0026egrave;s les m\u0026ecirc;mes oiseaux et les m\u0026ecirc;mes poissons qu\u0026rsquo;au XVIIe ou XVIIIe si\u0026egrave;cle. Seul le contexte dans lequel je les peins a chang\u0026eacute;. \u0026Agrave; partir de quel moment est-ce que cela devient du kitsch ? Quand je commence \u0026agrave; peindre, je n\u0026rsquo;ai pas envie de me soucier de telles questions li\u0026eacute;es au temps. Sous quel angle vais-je peindre cet oiseau\u0026nbsp;? C\u0026rsquo;est cela qui me pr\u0026eacute;occupe alors. Les choses nous regardent. Ce qui importe, c\u0026rsquo;est le contact que nous pouvons avoir avec les choses et qui devient impossible quand on essaie de le r\u0026eacute;duire ou de l\u0026rsquo;expliquer avec des concepts\u0026hellip; Regarde, voici trois portraits d\u0026rsquo;un aigle empaill\u0026eacute;. Est-ce possible\u0026nbsp;? Ce mensonge est-il permis\u0026nbsp;? Ou est-ce qu\u0026rsquo;il n\u0026rsquo;y a que ce mensonge, cette illusion, et devons-nous nous en contenter\u0026nbsp;?\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Je regarde l\u0026rsquo;oie empaill\u0026eacute;e, qui se dresse dans un angle de l\u0026rsquo;atelier. Robert Devriendt suit mon regard.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;C\u0026rsquo;est devenu une poup\u0026eacute;e\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;, dit-il. \u0026laquo;\u0026nbsp;D\u0026rsquo;abord, on voit l\u0026rsquo;animal entier et puis l\u0026rsquo;objet vide, comme si on s\u0026rsquo;\u0026eacute;tait fait avoir. Et puis, on voit \u0026agrave; nouveau l\u0026rsquo;animal en entier. Tant\u0026ocirc;t l\u0026rsquo;un, tant\u0026ocirc;t l\u0026rsquo;autre. Et \u0026agrave; chaque fois, ce que tu viens tout juste de voir a de nouveau disparu. C\u0026rsquo;est comme si tu ne voyais pas d\u0026rsquo;objet, mais un miroir de ta propre agitation.\u0026nbsp;\u0026raquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nMontagne de Miel, 28 d\u0026eacute;cembre 1997\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\r\n\u003cp style=\"text-align: justify;\"\u003eTraduit par Mich\u0026egrave;le Deghilage\u003c/p\u003e\r\n"},{"locale":"ru","short_description":"","description":""},{"locale":"de","short_description":"","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n__________\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHans Theys\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cb\u003eLayer after layer\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nA few words about the work of Robert Devriendt\u003c/b\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026ldquo;Recently I was painting near a pond, when a goose suddenly flew into the air. I had already seen it sitting there, some ten metres away from me. I had seen its head moving through the reeds and now and then I had heard her honking. Suddenly she took off noisily and then dropped into the water. Right in front of me. Dead. I took her home, painted her a few times and then gave her to a taxidermist friend. He would keep her in his deep-freeze for a while because I wanted to paint her one more time. But when I arrived at his house a couple of days later, he had already stuffed her. The news came as a terrible blow. The goose had gone. An emptied thing consisting only of skin is devoid of all expression.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nRobert Devriendt (\u0026deg;1955) and I walk across the Grote Markt in Bruges on our way to his studio. I look at his shoes while listening to his story. They are Bordeaux red.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I grew up on a farm. As a young boy, I once saw the vet remove a calf from a cow by Caesarean section\u0026hellip; I knew that cow. I still remember her name\u0026hellip;. First I saw the cow as something full, something complete, but when they started cutting her open, layer after layer, first her skin and then the other membranes: the peritoneum, the wall of the uterus, etc.\u0026hellip; she became one large, dark cavity\u0026hellip; Nothing but layers of membrane\u0026hellip; and that\u0026rsquo;s what we call reality.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nUnder the mid-length, grey woollen coat with its fine herringbone pattern, he is wearing a carmine velvet jacket and underneath that a waistcoat with alternating bluish-grey and reddish-gold checks embroidered with roses. Underneath that is a white silk shirt whose mother-of-pearl collar encloses a loosely knotted white silk scarf, partly concealed behind a second scarf with patches of muted dark-blue, dark-green and ochre. On his left hand he is wearing a ring set with a red stone. I look down again at the Bordeaux-coloured shoes.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;What would you call the colour of your shoes?\u0026rdquo;, I ask. \u0026ldquo;Is it mahogany?\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m not very good at names,\u0026rdquo; he answers, \u0026ldquo;but it is a sort of Bordeaux red. A bit too matt for my taste. There\u0026rsquo;s a bit too much white in it.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;One makes a colour more matt by adding white?\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;There is something misty about these shoes because the top layer of colour contains more white than the ground layer, which is darker. That\u0026rsquo;s how you paint mist. First you paint a dark sky, for example, and then you paint lighter colours over it. It\u0026rsquo;s the opposite of a glaze. To paint a red apple, you first paint a beautiful orange and over it a layer of crimson. That way you get a deep, vivid red. The light penetrates it, goes up to the orange ground and reflects. That\u0026rsquo;s the difference between Jordaens and Rubens. Jordaens\u0026rsquo; matrons sometimes look limewashed. With Rubens the grey is created optically through the various layers of colour. Jordaens comes across as much flatter because of the mix of grey and white in the skin colour. There is also a darker red under our skin. A good painter will first paint a dark layer and add an orange tint on top. The grey comes automatically. That way you obtain a mother-of-pearl tint.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHanging in the studio are scores of works, seemingly positioned at random, as in a swarm without a centre. They are small paintings on wood or canvas, approximately the size of a hand, though each is slightly different in format. The paint is applied fluidly in thin layers, semi-translucent and not really covering. The majority of the paintings are of scenery or of dead fish, dead birds and dead trees, mostly painted from nearby and from different viewpoints. Some of these works I have already seen as part of an exhibition put together by Marie-Puck Broodthaers in Cologne, like the portraits of a fallen, dead tree which was painted from different angles, giving the viewer the impression of being able to walk around it.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I love cubism,\u0026rdquo; says Devriendt. \u0026ldquo;My paintings are natural, not cubist, but I feel a lot for their use of colour, for their contrasts, light against dark, hot against cold, and for that juxtaposition of different views of things, so that you have to put them back together in your head\u0026hellip;\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I also recognize a scenic view of water surrounded by trees.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s a deceit,\u0026rdquo; replies Devriendt. \u0026ldquo;It looks like an idyllic spot, but actually I was sitting on top of a concrete sewer from which rats were disgorged at regular intervals by the fast-running water\u0026hellip; It also stank to high heaven.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He shows me another scenic view.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;This one I painted from a boat. I wanted to paint a bank from the water\u0026hellip; It is rather romantic.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He takes a painting off the wall and holds it up to the natural light. It represents a duck\u0026rsquo;s head with a neck that seems to fan out towards the top.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;Our gaze never allows itself to come to a standstill. Recently I have been looking for an image that flows away and yet is close by.\u0026rsquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; We look at a painting of a bird lying on its back revealing tousled feathers on its stomach.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;I\u0026rsquo;m pleased with those matt, grey, velvet tints.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nHis forefinger hovers above the painting.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;It looks as if a wind might blow over it, ruffling all the plumelets so that they lie differently. Paint and image flow, but they nevertheless settle on certain points. For example, on the edge of the beak and on the edge of the wing.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Then he points to the portrait of a fish with gaping mouth.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;What I like about this is that the mouth has become a veritable crimson cavity. You feel you could get into it; you can get into it with your finger. An urge to destroy comes over you, almost as if I have wrecked the fish. There is emotion\u0026hellip; When I walk along the street now, I see fish everywhere. People are fish. Do you know that last video clip by Janet Jackson? You should look at her mouth\u0026hellip; Wonderful! What a pretty, beautiful fish!\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He takes a painting from the wall and places it in my hand.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;Take a look at this head,\u0026rdquo; he says. \u0026ldquo;That effect of silver and gold, that purple, that mother-of-pearl throat, that pink tongue\u0026hellip;. Birds and fish hardly change,\u0026rdquo; he continues. \u0026ldquo;They are more or less the same birds and the same fish as in the seventeenth or the eighteenth century, only the context in which I paint them has changed.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; When does something become kitsch? I don\u0026rsquo;t want to be bothered by those sort of time-related questions when I start painting. Which angle am I going to paint this fish from? That\u0026rsquo;s what concerns me. Things look at us. It\u0026rsquo;s about the contact we can have with things and you make that impossible if you constrict it or explain it with concepts\u0026hellip; Look, these are three portraits of a stuffed eagle. Can you do that? Is that deceit allowed? Or is there only this deceit, this illusion, and should we settle for that?\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; I look at the stuffed goose in a corner of the studio. Robert Devriendt follows my gaze.\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \u0026ldquo;It\u0026rsquo;s become a doll,\u0026rdquo; he says. \u0026ldquo;First you see the full animal and then the empty object, as if you have been duped. And then you see the full animal again. It alternates. First you see it and then you don\u0026rsquo;t. It\u0026rsquo;s as if you are not seeing an object, but a mirror of your own disquiet.\u0026rdquo;\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nMontagne de Miel, December 28th 1997\u003cbr /\u003e\r\n\u003cbr /\u003e\r\nTranslated by Alison Mouthaan\u003c/p\u003e\r\n"},{"locale":"es","short_description":"","description":""},{"locale":"el","short_description":"","description":""}],"actors":[]}