08 april 2025, Yves Joris
The silence of form – on the work of Freddy Van Parys
There are artists who speak in volumes, who drench their works in explanations, manifestos and commentaries. Freddy Van Parys (b. 1952, Aalst) is not one of them. His sculptures and graphic art are more to be guessed than explained, as if they remain turned inward, far from any words that may try to pin them down. Perhaps that’s also why his work often hides behind the familiar ‘untitled’ title. 'A silent trace of love', the title of the exhibition at Rik Rosseels Gallery, seems to offer a clue: something is left behind here, but without explanation, without a cry or a compelling narrative. It’s about a subtle movement that invites the viewer into a sensory exploration.
The discipline of form
Van Parys’ oeuvre is an exercise in silence — not as emptiness, but as a charged space. The strict geometric shapes, the monochromatic play in his graphic work, the use of materials like PVC film, foil and photography all point to a kind of control that is not merely technical, but existential. Here, form is not an optional aesthetic, but a discipline, an attempt to create order in a world in which chaos always threatens.
With Van Parys, nothing is accidental. Every element — no matter how fragile or minimal — holds meaning, even if this meaning does not immediately reveal itself. His work evokes architectural constructions, structures reduced to their purest essence. His abstraction is not sterile, but meditative. The subtle ways in which forms and materials relate to one another reveal a sensuality that is not overt, but slowly creeps under the skin. His art invites observation, not explanation. The lines, the shadows, the tensions between materials—these say more than any commentary could.
a silent trace of love, Rik Rosseels Gallery
Constructivist thought
This search for order is rooted in the Constructivist tradition in which geometry and abstraction are not merely formal choices, but reflect a fundamental attitude toward reality. Constructivism is art that refuses to be illustrative, that sidesteps anecdote and personal expression to craft a purer, more essential image of the world. In the legacy of artists like Kazimir Malevich and El Lissitzky, art becomes not a window onto reality, but an autonomous reality in itself—a notion that resonates in the precision and austerity of Van Parys’ work.
But whereas early Constructivists in Russia believed in a utopian world in which art served a societal function, Van Parys seems aware of the impossibility of such an ideal. His work is not revolutionary, but reflective. It complies with reality without imposing upon it. It requires active participation from the viewer, who must bring the work to life. It makes no claims, but permits.
Tension between tactile and industrial
His work, as seen in 'A silent trace of love', reveals a subtle layering. An installation like this—where a fragile piece of drawn paper, an industrial plastic sheet and an austere architectural image interact—reveals his fascination with the tension between the organic and the mechanical, the tactile and the absent. The rough texture of the paper contrasts with the hard lines of the object, while the pencil marks cast the shadow of something that once was.
This field of tension is characteristic of his oeuvre. Van Parys works with contrasts: between the handmade and the serial, the unique and the standardised, the imperfection of graphic work and the clinical precision of industrial materials. The artist seems to be asking how we can relate to a world that is becoming increasingly abstract (and even incomprehensible). These tensions are never proclaimed aloud, but always subtly felt; they invite attentive, sensory presence, making the viewer part of the work. Perhaps he is making a desperate attempt to leave behind a trace — a ‘silent trace’, a mark that may not last forever, but still signifies a moment of presence.
Freddy Van Parys, Untitled, Rik Rosseels Gallery
Layering and the passage of time
Another piece in the 'A silent trace of love' exhibition reveals a new dimension in Van Parys’ work: the combination of abstraction and fragmentation, layering and the interaction between transparency and imprint. Unlike his strictly geometric compositions or sculptural installations, here we see a more poetic dialogue between image and colour, between figuration and abstraction.
At first glance, the composition appears serene: a collage-like structure of black-and-white imagery intersected by a pink, almost ethereal colour field. But within that seeming calm lies a tension. The black-and-white image fragments suggest movement, memories, perhaps even a remembrance of times past. The hand visible against the background appears to be gesturing—as if trying to hold on to something elusive.
Van Parys works here with overlapping layers, a technique that creates a distance between the viewer and the image. The pink plane acts as a veil, a filter that both reveals and obscures the underlying image. This layering is not only visual, but also emotional: the work becomes a space where memory, loss and longing are intertwined. This interaction with transparency raises questions: What exactly are we seeing? What is hidden and why?
There’s a melancholic undertone to this work, an awareness of impermanence, as if the artist is not only experimenting with form and colour, but also with the idea of memory and imprint — the residue of an image, a moment, a presence. This piece fits seamlessly within A Silent Trace of Love, in which he continually searches for traces, for that fragile balance between material and emotion, the visible and the invisible. Here, too, the viewer is not a passive observer, but a participant in the process of unveiling and imagining.
Freddy Van Parys, Untitled, 2024, Rik Rosseels Gallery
What remains is a trace
In the art of Freddy Van Parys, love is not a sentimental affair. It is not a romantic gesture nor exuberant celebration. Rather, it is a subtle presence, a devotion to form, a reverence for material. It is found in the way a sheet of paper is carefully fastened, in the soft shadow cast by a graphic drawing, in the serenity of a composition that allows for nothing superfluous.
Perhaps Van Parys remains silent about his work because he knows it needs silence to keep breathing. After all, the moment an artist begins to speak, his work becomes an illustration of his words. And that is exactly what he seems to be wanting to avoid: he wants no explanation, no guide, no imposed interpretation. His images and graphics must stand on their own, an autonomous universe in which the viewer can lose him or herself. With Freddy Van Parys, this is a universe in which subtlety and sensuality lead the way, where the layering of image and meaning is revealed only when the viewer consents to being carried away.
