20 may 2025, Yves Joris
The tree speaks, the skin breathes
Luc Vandervelde Lux’s studio is not a place of loud noise or grand gestures. It breathes the quiet, focused calm of a workspace where nature finds its voice through human hands. Tree bark, latex, paint — these are not mere materials, but conversation partners for the artist, who began his career in figurative painting, but now finds himself deeply rooted in a dialogue with the living world.
From figurative to fragmented
“I started as an artist quite late,” he says. “Around the age of 30 and very classically, with figurative work in oil on canvas. But it soon felt too limiting. I became frustrated and felt stuck. I wanted more freedom in my expression.”
What followed was a journey through various media and disciplines. A grant from the Flemish Community led to a residency in China, where he literally discovered new materials. “I was fascinated by how quickly buildings were erected there, by the fabrics covering construction sites. That became my material.” Instead of painting on canvas, he began wrapping his paintings — or rather, he turned wrapping into painting.
Luc Vandervelde Lux, Untitled, MTLA 016/scheutbos, 2024
The latex speaks
The major turning point came with his discovery of latex. “Latex has become my favourite material. It allows for a perfect imprint of something, while still remaining elastic, soft, alive.” His work is essentially imprints of tree trunks. But the word imprint hardly does them justice. They are skins, memories, fragments of time. Latex captures not only shape, but also colour. Nature literally leaves its trace. “Nature co-determines the form and outcome. Each tree species expresses itself differently: an oak gives a rougher texture, while other trees a smoother one and they all absorb colour differently. It’s a partnership with nature.”
Artistic herbarium
His fascination with trees runs deep. An article about the oldest tree in Europe, somewhere between Albania and Greece, was a key moment. “That tree has lived for thousands of years, while we’ve been here for just a fraction of that. Respect for this is often lacking. That’s why I want to give a platform to trees. Not a moralising one, but an artistic one — a place to show their story.” Vandervelde openly dreams of a “library of tree trunks,” a kind of archive in which the memory of nature becomes tangible. Each work carries the title More trees, less assholes, followed by a number — like a specimen in a living collection.
Luc Vandervelde Lux, Untitled, MTLA 018/Meise, 2024
Between sculpture and painting
His work is hard to fit into traditional categories. It hangs on the wall like paintings, but breathes like a sculpture. Some works are framed, others are placed in outdoor installations, where they are exposed to wind and weather. “I once created an installation where I hung imprints of fallen trees back on standing trees, as if I were giving them their skin back.”
He doesn’t hesitate to touch his own work — something that viewers often instinctively avoid. “It invites touch. And that’s okay. It’s a skin.”
The influence of Freud
During our conversation, one name comes up repeatedly: Lucian Freud. “His work was a revelation. That raw skin, those clumps of paint, that vulnerability. It really moved me. I immediately felt I could never do the same in paint. But maybe I was looking for something similar with my latex — which also becomes skin-like, also contains something fragile.”
Where does nature end and art begin?
When does an imprint become art? “That’s a great question,” says Vandervelde. “For me, it lies in the assembly: how you bring the pieces together, how you present them. Sometimes it starts with a simple charcoal drawing, followed by the imprint and then the composition. Art is created in the totality, as well as in the search. First for myself, then for the viewer.”
Luc Vandervelde Lux, Untitled, MTLA 014/scheutbos, 2025
A rhythm of time and intuition
Vandervelde’s process is slow, almost ritualistic. Making imprints takes time. Weather plays a role, as do temperature and humidity. “I work less in winter and more intensely in summer. You also have a lot of time to think while working — I need that time.” Some pieces stay in his studio for months before finding their purpose. Others become part of installations — such as a metal circle over three meters wide in which viewers can literally step into a tree trunk.
Dreams and rhythms
How does he view his future? “I want to continue with this process. To archive trees, to keep working with latex. But I also need variation. Sometimes I return to painting — using coloured latex on canvas. That too is a search.” His dream? “To exhibit in a place that gives me carte blanche. It could be a decaying building or a clean white cube. As long as I have the freedom to do whatever I want.” And who would he like as a neighbouring artist in a joint exhibition? He laughs. “Lucian Freud, of course. But I’m also grateful for dialogue with fellow artists, like recently during the couleurs tendances exhibition at TaLe Art Gallery. It doesn’t have to be grand — as long as it works.”
And if it all had to be summed up in one word?
He thinks for a moment. “Perhaps... connection,” he says. “Between human and nature. Between material and form. Between time and memory.”
Luc Vandervelde Lux, Untitled, 2025
Saturday 24 May 13u vernissage HUISBURG – EXPO 08, with works by Luc Vandervelde Lux, artist in residence in Château de Suronde – millésime 2023.
May 24 to June 1 – every Saturday & Sunday from 1pm to 6pm.
