Out of control

The lightness of life; the things inbetween; the seemingly unimportant happenings; the beautiful absurdity; the poetry of the moment. These are things I’ve been struggling to catch in my work ever since I started making art .
As an artist I’m using a lot of different media. I like to work site specific. I usually build installations, using carloads of tv’s, materials you would never have thought of, performers, text, garbage, you name it. I’m fighting, thinking, cursing, running, sweating, building, destroying. I’m filming, writing, drawing, talking. And sometimes I push a small red button. I push the button of my sx-70 because I know I have to at that specific moment and out comes a tiny image. A small world. Complete in its size, its colour, its meaning. I push the button and I don’t want to do anything else for the rest of my life. The installations disappear. The struggle stops. This is it. There’s nothing to add, nothing to change. An instant artwork. The magic of light.
Now and then the polaroids do end up in an installation. Or in a performance. But usually they are what they are. On their own in their own world. Representing a portrait, a landscape, a thought. Sometimes a beautiful image, sometimes a conceptual work but always real in its mysteriousness. Because I only pushed a button and the rest just happened.

In this world with endless possibilities I’m delighted to be guided by a camera that makes it impossible for me to be in control. I’m spending more and more time to figure out what the possibilities of this beautiful medium are and how its limits broaden the horizon of my art practice.