Belgian artist William Sweetlove gained recognition as one of the founders of the Cracking Art Group, a collective that foresaw and addressed the implications of industrial plastic use in the early 1990s. Now, as part of the James Ensor year, Sweetlove is creating a major exhibition at the basilica in Leffinge, where he poses the question: how much freedom does an artist have when the value of the artist’s work and future is determined by the CCCs: curators, conservators and critics? A glimpse is revealed in Double jeux, a joint exhibition with Jacques Charlier.
The decision to combine Sweetlove's latest project with work by Jacques Charlier is a logical one. In the early 1960s, Charlier decided to illustrate every idea that came to him in the style and medium he found most suitable, an attitude that stands in stark contrast to the quest for a definitive style pursued by many other artists. To Charlier, his work only became visible to an informed audience after a longer period of time. But Charlier's criticism is more fundamental than that: through his changing styles and expressions, he challenges the prevailing mainstream system, his followers, superstitions, snobbery, implications, changing moods, periodic infatuations and rejections.
Double jeux / Dubbele betekenis with work by Jacques Charlier and William Sweetlove can be seen until 12 February at Sofie Van den Bussche in Brussels.
Where is your studio and what does it look like?
My studio is in two locations: at home and at a storage facility 17 km away. At home in Leffinge, I have three containers for polyester work. Outside, there is ventilation for the odours emitted by the synthetic products. A canopy between the containers is used for sanding and repairs. The large pieces are usually created in collaboration with companies. The prototypes are made at my home.
Over the past years, you have created a large number of life-sized plastic sculptures of dogs. Is enough space the most important studio requirement for you?
Without enough space, this would not be possible. The largest project is under construction. It will be a gigantic Neapolitan bulldog that is seven metres in height. It was commissioned by an American football club. It will be made in pieces and then shipped and assembled on-site.
What does a typical day in your studio look like? Do you have routines, do you like to listen to music while working or is it completely quiet, do you receive visitors or prefer not to?
I don't have any routines. The material always needs time to harden and dry. I finish the small pieces in between.
At the moment, some of your work is on display at Sofie Vandenbussche in the joint exhibition Double jeux – Dubbele betekenis. Most of the work is from the series The Curator. What is the double meaning here?
This year, I am creating a new installation with 200 works focusing on the theme of ‘the curator’. It will be on display from 28 March in the basilica in Leffinge (Middelkerke). The work ties in with the Ensor year and questions the power dynamics between artist and curator, conservator and critic (the CCCs). How much freedom do artists still have?
The CCCs set their own standards and therefore determine the future vision of an artist. The public and CCCs are invited to provide an answer to this. It is a very complex issue because it also determines the subsidy policy. As an artist, I have never received any subsidies. The question is: who gets one and who doesn't? It often happens that important artists have had to wait to even be discovered. Louise Bourgeois is a good example of this, as is someone like Eugene Leroy.
At Sofie Vanden Bussche, the curtain is lifted a bit to reveal the large installation in the church. It is an exploration and questioning of who determines artistic value. Is the artist dependent on the curator and conservator or art critic? Ensor's masks conceal characters that often represent corruption, honesty, falsehood, etc. Ensor was too revolutionary for his time, which is why he was hindered on his difficult path by the CCCs. My path is also filled with stumbling blocks and misunderstandings. And all of it created without any grants.
Most people know you as the creator of large sculptures, some of which are also on display in the gallery. Those sculptures are easily accessible and seem playful, yet convey a serious message. Can you briefly tell us what that message is?
I have built up a body of work based on a philosophy that I developed. The problem statement is ‘no plastic in heaven’.
What advice do you have for colleagues at the start of their career?
I quickly understood that if you want to end up in a museum, you have to be unique in what you do and how it looks. I was young and penniless, yet I tried to put myself on a pedestal, only not alone. I had respect for and placed other artists on a pedestal before they were actually known and honoured. I bought work from artists who fit my message.
In 1972, I bought my first Joseph Beuys for 5 DM. Imagine that! I bought a few more when I had money. All work that was difficult for the general public to grasp. They were often still unknown, but always young living artists and affordable. Most of them didn't have a gallery yet. All of them time-bound and affordable. There are gems among them: Pistoletto, Warhol, Damien Hirst, Cindy Sherman, Keith Haring, David Shrigly, Tracy Emin, Ai WeiWei.
What are you currently working on?
My latest work is about the power of the curator, with Ensor as the perfect example. Reviled when he was young, revolutionary and reactionary. Christ’s Entry into Brussels now hangs in the Getty Museum. The masks hide malicious people who often derided him. We also share a few background details. Ensor died in 1949 and I was born that same year in Ostend. Our parents were both English migrants who arrived in Ostend during the same time period in 1860 by mailboat. He has always been my greatest role model. We have also both had trouble establishing ourselves.