Time is a mystery. We try to measure it, control it, even hold onto it, yet it slips through our fingers time and again. It shapes our lives and forms our memories, often without us even realising it. In the exhibition Allegory of Time at the Coppejans Gallery, Ronny Delrue gives this elusive dimension a tangible presence. His work, composed of delicate lines, soft colours and layered structures, not only questions how we experience time, but also how memories are formed, distorted and disappear. In a conversation with gallery owner Stijn Coppejans, we explore how Delrue invites us to reflect on transience, memory and the subtle balance between holding on and letting go.
Time and memory: the layered nature of the moment
Memories are not linear. They accumulate, fade and resurface unexpectedly—sometimes triggered by a scent, a sound or a fleeting thought. In Ronny Delrue's work, time emerges as a cyclical, fragile phenomenon, a fluid structure not bound by fixed patterns. His work explores this dynamic by making the layers of memory visible: some details are magnified, while others fade into an ethereal haze. What remains are fragments, inviting us to reconstruct the image ourselves, much like our brains reshape memories time and again.
Delrue's works reveal how subjective memories are. What we remember is coloured by personal experiences, emotions and the context in which those memories resurface. He describes it as follows: "When we reconstruct a story, it becomes our own story, more subjective than objective." This process of distortion and transformation lies at the heart of his art. Through layers and nuances, he captures the fragility of memories, as well as their resilience to adapt to new perspectives.
The layered quality of his work raises questions about how we perceive time. It reveals that memories are not simply stored images, but active processes in which certain moments are highlighted and others fade away. The visual diary Delrue creates showcases this process in action, emphasising how our memory functions as a tapestry of stories, always in motion, always incomplete.
His art invites us to not only examine the fragments, but also to ponder the space between them. What has been lost? What do we fill in ourselves? It is precisely this emptiness, these gaps in memory, that make us so human. Delrue shows that time is not a straight path, but a winding road where memories and experiences are constantly rewritten. In this unpredictable movement lies a profound truth: we don’t remember what happened, but we remember what meant something to us.
Humanity in transformation: transience as a theme
In much of Delrue's work, the human form plays a significant – albeit subtle – role. In the haze of blue layers, outlines of legs, feet or hands can be discerned, fragile traces of presence. These figures are never complete, but seem caught in a state of transition, as if on the verge of dissolving into time. This symbolises not only the transience of human existence, but also the constant transformation that defines us.
One of the most intriguing works in the exhibition is a clock without hands. Created after the death of Delrue's mother, the piece reflects the disruption of our linear perception of time during moments of loss. The clock ticks, but irregularly. Sometimes hours pass, sometimes mere minutes—a metaphor for how time can slow down or speed up during grief. The work exudes an intimate melancholy and highlights the deeply personal relationship we have with time.
His subtle depiction of the human form raises questions about identity and memory. How do we remember ourselves? What remains of who we once were? In his work, humanity is not a fixed entity, but a collection of fragments in continuous motion. By only vaguely suggesting the contours, Delrue compels us to fill in the voids ourselves, to actively engage in the process of meaning-making.
Time as a fluid metaphor and an invitation to reflect
What makes his work so powerful is how it invites the viewer to not only look, but also to feel. His artworks are open windows where time becomes fluid and memories and emotions flow freely. The circular patterns and transparent layers suggest a continuity that is both fragile and ever-changing.
The choice of transparency and layering enhances the fluidity of time as a theme. To Delrue, memories are not static objects, but living entities that continue to evolve. His work connects with viewers on a deeply emotional level, with soft, almost ethereal colours creating a meditative atmosphere. It doesn’t demand direct answers, but instead offers the opportunity for introspection.
In Allegory of Time, there are no explicit explanations or texts to guide the meaning of the work. This is deliberate. Delrue gives the viewer the freedom to interpret, to project our own memories and experiences. His art does not claim to know everything, but invites dialogue—with yourself, with others and with the art itself.
This openness makes the exhibition different for everyone. One viewer may relive memories of a youthful summer, while another feels the melancholy of loss. Delrue’s work resonates on a universal level while remaining deeply personal.
A gentle embrace of transience
In art history, time is often portrayed as the enemy: hourglasses, wilting flowers or skulls symbolise its relentless passage and the inevitability of death. Delrue’s approach is more subtle and layered. He does not depict time as a threat, but as a fluid companion, a constant that shapes us, challenges us and ultimately lets us go.
This gentle embrace of transience is what makes Allegory of Time so remarkable. It invites us to pause and reflect on the elusive nature of time, to appreciate the beauty of the moment, while accepting its impermanence. His delicate lines, intertwined colours and layered forms symbolise a subtle dialogue between holding on and letting go.
Ronny Delrue shows us that memories are not static, but dynamic, like time itself. He makes us aware that every moment is unique, yet part of a larger whole. This is an exhibition that won’t soon be forgotten, precisely because it touches the core of our existence: the fragility, beauty and elusiveness of time. In Delrue’s fluid universe lies a simple yet powerful message: time is not the enemy, but a silent companion that helps us cherish what has passed and what remains. His work reminds us that it is in the movement of time and memory that we can both find—and lose—ourselves.