We’re you exposed to art while growing up?
Not really. I did get a nice introduction to aesthetics during my high school career with the Jesuits of Xavier College. A number of teachers there inspired me to pay attention to culture.
How did you come into contact with the art world?
That click actually came in 1988, when I visited a friend's parental apartment at the age of 18, located on the top floor of one of those large apartment buildings on the Left Bank. His father was an art dealer and – apparently – still related to Paul Delvaux. In his office was a life-sized machine by Jean Tinguely. To the left and right of the salon were two 'Aeromodeler models' by Panamarenko under plexi dust covers. An original, original 'Mao' by Andy Warhol hung over the fireplace as a sort of modern icon. His son sold some graphics - he collected screen prints and multiples by Roy Lichtenstein himself - and introduced me to the work of Keith Haring. From that moment on I started collecting graphics and multiples. Starting with Pierre Alechinsky and Keith Haring, followed by quite a lot of graphic work by Panamarenko. During my student days I often visited the tiny gallery 'The Sky is the Limit' in the Kloosterstraat, run by Herman Peers. He had beautiful stuff, all graphics and multiples by Gerhard Richter, Marcel Broodthaers, Christo, and of course Panamarenko, mainly supplied by Ronny van de Velde.
In the early 1990s, the Kloosterstraat and its surroundings was a hotspot for such galleries: on the corner where 'Dancing Chocola' is now located, you had the gallery of Guy Couvreur, then dealer of the artist Wout Vercammen, who died in 2018, with a real billiard table in the centre of the gallery. On the corner of Riemstraat and Scheldestraat you had 'Den Tijd', ran by Mireille Sprengers, wife of Leo Dohmen, where you could marvel at an impressive collection of prints by Andy Warhol and Keith Haring. Leo occasionally appeared in the doorway so that you could get a glimpse of his holster and revolver underneath his vest. I studied 'Product Development' in Antwerp, for me still the most complete training you can follow. You will be trained to be a creative problem solver who learns to listen to all disciplines and has respect for everything and everyone. You learn to combine technology and aesthetics.
Through my classmate and good friend David I got to know the Pas family better. Father Walter had been the regular framer of the De Zwarte Panter gallery for many years and had an incredibly beautiful collection of paintings by Fred Bervoets. As a framer he was in a privileged position as he was always one of the first to see Fred's new work and he clearly had a good eye! Through Johan Pas I occasionally got a good tip about where interesting multiples were for sale, and I made good use of that. The Sunday evenings at Adriaan Raemdonck's in 'de slit' – the former sacristy that served as the bar of Galerie De Zwarte Panter – were legendary. There was as much space in front of as behind the counter and discussions about art against a background of loud blues music could be heated.
What was your first job in a gallery? Or did you immediately start a gallery yourself?
The gallery grew out my own collection. At a certain moment a collection represents a certain capital and your wife thinks that if you want to buy something more, you should think about selling something and before you know it you are trading. Once, a long time ago, I registered the domain name panamarenko.be. I am professionally creating websites and did not want this domain name to fall into the hands of a speculative party. That is how I ended up at the 'Antwerpse Luchtschipbouw', the management of Panamarenko at the time, and Oskar D, the graphic agency that I have run for more than 25 years with Dirk de Haene, was able to create the official website for Panamarenko. To this day, we maintain it on behalf of Panamarenko's widow Eveline.
I met Bart Van Acker when my father was buying all the signed Panamarenko books he could find on eBay. He bought them and I picked them up. Bart sold some for a friend and that's how I got to know him. He was a collector of Luc Tuymans' graphic work and got me interested as well. We then started working together in 2010 to set up an online catalogue raisonné of Luc Tuymans' graphic work. Then we started pop-up sales exhibitions of that graphic work. These were successful and subsequently resulted in a permanent gallery with a focus on the graphic work of Luc Tuymans and other artists of the same calibre. Graphic work by Michaël Borremans, Marlene Dumas, Gerhard Richter, Raoul De Keyser, etc. In 2017 we moved into our own space on the Eilandje in Antwerp.
How would you describe your gallery’s profile?
Since June 2021 I have been running Art Partout on my own. I was able to take over Bart's shares and can now navigate a slightly changed course. It has always been my ambition to be able to present original work by contemporary artists in addition to multiples and graphics, and I am now happy to expand that trajectory. The reasoning is that I would like to have an offer for beginning collectors or collectors on a budget, like myself. As a collector you have the choice between the safe option: graphic work and multiples by established artists, or a more adventurous, namely original work by artists at the start of their career, for the same budget. I want to be able to offer both options. In the meantime I have also decided for myself which type of artist I would like to work with. While compiling the latest exhibition on 'Fluxus' artists, in collaboration with Harry Ruhé, I realized that my preference lies with artists who intervene in daily life in a playful way with their work. Usually artists who are not engaged in 'making art', but live their own lives quite intensely, whereby all kinds of things are created 'on the way' that are worthwhile and then almost unintentionally form an oeuvre. It's hard to describe but I can feel it. Panamarenko is a good example. He has never been concerned with making 'art' and has never wanted to adapt to 'the art market'. He did what he wanted all his life and created beautiful, poetic objects.
What do you think is the best part of being a gallerist?
For me, one of the most beautiful aspects of the profession is the presentation of the works in an exhibition. I like to take my time for that, and when it finally manages to bring it together into a balanced whole, it gives me great satisfaction. The best part is that there are actually people who see that you have spent time on it. My own gallery space is a completely 'white box' and that makes it very rewarding to present work. Such a 'white cube' works like a kind of convention, where every object you place in it is almost automatically seen as art. I also really enjoy immersing myself in the work of artists who are new to me. There is still so much to discover and the great thing is that you are always 'right'. What is interesting and captivating to one person may be a turn off for another, and yet they are both right. The experience of art is so individual and subjective that you are always right when you assess a work of art. As long as you remain open to all those other subjective opinions and constantly try to learn something new, there is nothing to worry about.
Which national / international galleries do you feel an affinity with?
My great example is Ronny Van de Velde, of course. What that man and his wife Jessie have already accomplished during their career as art dealers and gallerists phenomenal. And for them it all feels self-evident, that's fantastic! Frank Demaegd of Zeno X is also a gallery owner to look up to. He builds long-term relationships with his artists, and doesn't drop anyone who isn't immediately successful. At the other end of the spectrum, there are international players such as Weng Contemporary who for me are a great example of how to organize your online communication. They provide a lot of background information on the works, and they explain the technique extensively on their website.
In an ideal world, which artist would you most like to represent?
Besides Luc Tuymans' graphics – which I still support 200% – I would like to build on the representation of a number of talented artists step by step. In 2021, I had the opportunity to make a group exhibition with young artists, selected by Hans Theys. This collaboration has given me a lot of new positive energy. I also get on well with Idris Sevenans, and I have the feeling that we are building something together in the meantime. After his solo last year, entitled 'Something that has already been done in the sixties', at the beginning of May we will present his new exhibition 'The Floating Archive': eight tree tubs containing a scale model of the filing cabinet of the AARS archive floating on authentic dock water (his fictitious Antwerp Artist Run School). First, I show a solo by Emily Kelly. In the summer I show work by Camiel van Breedam, encapsulated in a selection from his own phenomenal collection. That promises to be very exciting! At the same time, there will be an exhibition of his book-related work in the Nottebohm Room of the Conscience Heritage Library in Antwerp.
What has changed in the art world since you took your first steps?
The digitization and the subsequent greater transparency in the art world is a game changer. The improved accessibility of information has made it much easier for everyone to access a much wider range of products. Everyone now knows what’s for sale and at what price. Having said that, it is not because all that information is available that everyone is effectively better informed, so luckily you can still make a difference with the right dedication.
What / whose work do you collect yourself?
I collect the graphics by Luc Tuymans, multiples, graphic work and drawings by Panamarenko from the sixties and seventies, and original work by the artists I represent.
Has the pandemic changed the way you see the artworld?
I think Corona has affected everyone's thinking about life in general. In my case - but I will certainly not be alone in this - Corona has made me realize that is not necessary to rush everything. The world stood still. Things that used to be self-evident suddenly weren't anymore. You couldn't go to Paris or London. You had to stay inside, work at home and things that used to be super urgent and important professionally were suddenly much less. So it will never be quite the same and we may have missed an opportunity to reset completely, but in the meantime there is evil Vladimir Putin saying:: 'Wait a minute, hold my beer.'