The home of Merel Van de Casteele functions both as workshop and a living space. From the attic to the conservatory, the Belgian artist develops sculptures and drawings. Her drawings often begin as words on paper, a practice she calls ‘drawn writing’, moving from left to right as if they tell a story. In her newest drawings, the works carry the names of colors. Once a form emerges, Van de Casteele searches for the color that suits it best, resulting in works that are both graphic and painterly.
The objects in her home become part of her sculptural dialogue. By holding branches and plants, Van de Casteele senses whether they invite touch or instead create distance. Her drawings and sculptures are currently on view in the exhibition "The Surface Holds No Secrets" at TaLe Art Gallery in Vlierzele, through October 19.
Where is your studio, and how would you describe this place?
My studio is in the attic, but I actually work in different places around the house. Sometimes in the garage, sometimes in the conservatory, and occasionally in one of the bedrooms. Sculptures are scattered throughout the house because we live with them and care for them. In the studio, drawings hang on the walls, both half-finished pieces and very old works. Looking at the older works helps me find new references and inspiration for what I am making now. There are also various sticks and vegetal elements, like pieces of corn or branches. They are not always practical, but I like having them around or holding them while I think. Although I love order and structure, I have had to accept that I work best when there is considerable chaos in my studio.

What is the first thing you do when you enter your studio? Are there certain rituals that help you get into your work mode?
I usually make tea first when I begin in the studio. I also try to work in "units," a method I picked up from the book Finish on Time by Åsa Burman. It helps me to start and immediately tackle the most difficult artistic challenges. I often write in my journal if I struggle to begin, then set it aside after five minutes to start working effectively. I don’t know why it works, but it does. My best work moments are in the morning or very early, and sometimes late at night. In the afternoon I prefer to focus on practical tasks in the studio that require fewer creative decisions. During these times, the radio is on; otherwise, it is silent.
What material can we find on your worktable? Do you have a favourite tool you can't work without?
Because I work across disciplines, there are many different materials. You will find stored textiles, drawing paper, screen-print transfers, pencils, oil paint, and wood storage. One of my favorite tools is a small rounded wooden block I made myself, which I often use to flatten paper without damaging it.

You move between printmaking and sculpture. Is it difficult to switch between disciplines or does it feel natural?
That is a good question, and it depends heavily on the moment: how I approach it and how I feel. From childhood I was used to combining disciplines and never saw problems or limitations in doing so. For me it has always been a natural way of working, without consciously imposing boundaries. Only during further studies did I notice labels and divisions being placed between the different disciplines.
You are described as "a painter by origin." Can you explain what that means?
Painting has always been my first great love. That is why I initially chose to study it. Despite specializing in painting, I have always worked multidisciplinary, but even today my love for paint occupies a large part of my studio. Currently, copies of Peter Doig are in the conservatory and an article in De Witte Raaf about origin and a work by Fontana is in the bedroom. I have always felt that to go in depth, you must first begin with the surface. For me that surface was painting.

When did your fascination with ethnographic aesthetics begin? Are there artists who inspire you in this regard?
My fascination mainly comes from the travels I have undertaken. Traveling far and encountering other lives, cultures, and ideas constantly allows me to return with fresh eyes to our own world. Artists currently engaging me include Els Dietvorst, Dana Schutz, Vivian Suter, and Pierre Huyghe.
Your new works carry the names of colors, yet at the center we see one of your graphic forms. Is that a visual translation of the corresponding color?
No, the form always comes first. Then I look for the color that best suits it. The colors have largely emerged in my work through the summer. I have always worked in black and white and needed a new method to bring the shapes into a different light. Since using colored pencils, some drawings have acquired a painterly quality. Drawing wet-on-wet creates a thicker layer, allowing the colors to blend and flow across the paper.
What was your starting point for your work Tekening voor Ovidius: Toren en Lam?
The drawings for Ovidius function as letters to the book Metamorphoses by Ovid. I try to practice drawn writing, working from left to right as if noting words. They are often conceptual sketches and symbols, interspersed with elements moving between doubt and recognition. That space is crucial: many of my ideas are born there.

Your work is currently on view in “The Surface Holds No Secrets” at TaLe Art Gallery. Were there surprising or inspiring connections between your work and that of other artists?
The exhibition’s title says a lot. A painting or support can carry action, memory, or meaning, which is a key connection. Looking at the patina and nature of my sculptures, I often seek structures and surfaces that challenge touch. Some sculptures invite touch while others create distance. The contrast with the surface of a painting was made compelling by placing the sculptures alongside works by Svelte Thys, Lode Laperre, Daniel Mattar, and Marc Van Cauwenbergh.
What are you working on at the moment? Are there future projects you are already excited about?
I am currently deeply engaged in a site-specific project at the Sint-Jozefkapel in Bruges: KOM! I am artist in residence there for a year, interacting with the local community. Within this residency I am developing The Game of Objects, an interactive project where sculptures are temporarily taken into the homes of Bruges families or individuals.
Participants receive a piece from the Flock sculpture group with instructions and a corresponding ritual. In return they give me a meaningful object, which is then incorporated into the exhibition at Sint-Jozefkapel. This creates an exchange of care and stories, a playful presence with objects.
