04 november 2022, Oscar van Gelderen
The gallery of... Serena Baplu
In the section 'The gallery of' we talk to a selection of gallerists from the Netherlands and Belgium: when and how did they start their gallery, what has changed in the art world since, what is their profile, what collect themselves, and what is the impact of the pandemic on their gallery? In this part: Serena Baplu (Shoobil Gallery)
Were you exposed to art while growing up?
I was born in 1964, during the Golden Years, a post-war period of economic prosperity, optimism and freedom, during which both my working parents could easily afford and who mainly pursued material happiness. In 1976 my father died in a car accident. Together with my younger brother, we had to take care of ourselves independently - and rebelliously - from an early age. At that time we lived in Antwerp, behind the Museum of Fine Arts where I spent a lot of time and found comfort in the paintings that made a huge impression on me.
Then I knew where I wanted to go in my life. I found a telephone number of the Academy in Antwerp, where a friendly lady -because of my young age- recommended the 'RIKSO' (art secondary school), where, after a stubborn struggle with my mother, I ended up in a group with many other drop-outs from the school systems. That anarchist group was perfect for my self-fulfilment. On my eighteenth birthday I started living on my own.
Eetbare expo: 'gesprekken aan tafel' in CC DeWerft Geel, november 2004
How did you come across the art world?
After high school I started studying sculpture at the Antwerp Art Academy. At the end of the eighties, the M HKA opened and countless galleries settled in the South of Antwerp, which was great for visual arts students. The Thursday evening 'nocturnes', where students, graduates and an art-minded audience filled the galleries and cafes, were a highlight for me. During late or early intoxicated hours came the stories of artists who left a gloomy picture of the galleries and the art world. At the time, there was also great resistance from the teachers at the academy in Antwerp against early success. Seeing black snow first was the pseudo-romantic vision. In 2004, I drew a line under the artist's existence with an edible exhibition in Cultuurcentrum De Werft in the city of Geel, where the works of art were literally consumed. In preparation for this promotion, I had followed a course in pastry and confectionery.
After that, my search for an outlet threw me into the passion of shoe design. As a teacher in this subject, I was given the opportunity to volunteer in the leather industry in Senegal and Ethiopia, always seeing the local culture as the starting point for good design and a personal product with market potential both at home and abroad.
These projects meant a lot to me: they removed a layer of doubt and strengthened my commitment to use the same principles and strength for contemporary art and to start a physical space for it.
Together with daughter Tosca at the solo exhibition of Nico Van Dijck, September 2015 Our first exhibition in Museumstraat
What was your first job in a gallery? Or did you immediately start a gallery yourself?
When the non-profit gallery came into being in 2015, my eldest daughter Tosca, my partner Jef and I started out with a lot of idealism. The gallery takes its name from the phonetic spelling of Shoebill, a bird species which lives in the northern part of East Africa. A special bird. The first exhibitions focused on art objects with a functional possibility, but we quickly came to a dead end. All three of us have an artistic base and feel best about it. Reflection, research, not getting frustrated and changing yourself were the main needs to be where we are today. After six years we have been able to move from Museumstraat 4 to our beautiful space at Waalsekaai 21/22 in Antwerp.
Duo Jef Gysen and Florian Mertens May 2018, Museumstraat
How would you describe your gallery’s profile?
We aim to promote the ideas and practices of unknown contemporary artists in a complementary way, giving them a chance to be seen by critics, collectors, institutions and galleries – who have previously worked with established talent. We consciously focus on those first steps, because then we don't have to worry about what the market dictates. The hands-on experience in building the exhibitions is at the heart of a continuous improvement mentality, contributing to our individualistic identity that we have built over the years, and to develop it further in the future.
Expo B-COOPORATION van Jef Faes, January 2020, Museumstraat
What do you think is the best part of being a gallerist??
A frontal conversation between individuals resulting in a collective added value also means a personal commitment on the part of the artists. I experience an appreciation about this from the conversations with our audience and their opinion is important. The most beautiful aspect is 'coincidence'. Because the gallery currently functions without a subsidy – and thus without] a cumbersome bureaucracy – it can program freely and react quickly.
Which national / international galleries do you feel an affinity with?
In Antwerp I was always most attracted to the more experimental spaces such as Lokaal01, Pofferd-de Nul, Ruimte Morguen, Trampoline… which unfortunately only remain in memory. All four had a quirky and diverse programme. I especially enjoyed the buzz and the openness to a substantive conversation during the exhibitions.
Studio visit Yasmine Willems, 2021
In an ideal world, which artist would you most like to represent?
Louise Bourgeois at forty.
What has changed in the art world since you took your first steps?
There is the contemporary reality of a conceived career in art - quite the contrast to the 'black snow' I was 'schooled' in. Artists are expected to build up a recognizable oeuvre at a young age, by 'staying true' to their style or their narrative-biographical research. The individual manufacturability and the artist's name counts as a brand name. We accept figurative and representative art again with recognition for the material and the métier. The mechanisms of the art world remain a challenge.
‘Dear Lily’ Wonkun Jun, January 2022, Waalsekaai
What / whose work do you collect yourself?
We purchase work from the artists that we show in the gallery, from the art friends we buy from colleagues. We do have a financial ceiling, which means that the renowned artists fill the cupboard in book form. Recently published books are often also beautiful objects.
Has the pandemic changed the way you see the art world?
It has not affected my personal beliefs about the art world, however, I did miss culture very much. The term "non-essential" has stuck with me. Art and culture are classified in that category by the government. This reflects a frightening disinterest in art and culture. It was a dream period specifically for the visual artists, because the studio was the primary place every day. For the small or young galleries, the lockdowns have been hard and tough to survive. Selling art online is easier for household names. Privately, I have good memories of that almost still world of the Corona generation.
Due to the historical fact that worldwide a society – which we take so for granted – has ceased to exist, this crisis has pulled us out of the daily routine and forced us to reflect on our own life and the future according to the goals we want to achieve. And it has also taught us to take our time – to some degree, of course.
Opening duoshow with Faryda Moumouh and Paul Bourgeois, September 2022, Waalsekaai
