In Where I End and You Begin, two artists meet who, each in their own way, explore the boundary between form and dissolution, between the individual and the environment, between the past and renewal. The title, taken from a Radiohead song, refers to that elusive moment when something stops being itself and transforms into something else.
In the work of Anouk Griffioen, the forest is not a backdrop, but a space for thought. Her monumental black-and-white drawings breathe like living organisms: trunks rise up, branches intertwine, roots search for their way into the depths. Griffioen draws without erasing — each line is final, each movement an imprint of time and attention. In this way, worlds emerge in which nature is not merely depicted, but seems to emerge from the paper itself. Her darkness is not threatening but fertile; from the shadow, something new grows. Griffioen’s work is about the persistence of life, about the ability of nature — and of humans — to start anew over and over again.
Bram Ellens, on the other hand, directs his gaze to what remains. His sculptures Orphans consist of stacked second-hand paintings with the painted sides turned inward. What remains are the bare wooden stretcher frames, frayed canvases, and traces of use — the backside of the image, the underlying layer of meaning. Through this simple reversal, Ellens transforms the painting from a decorative object into a carrier of memory. What was once meant to be shown is now hidden; what is usually concealed becomes visible. His Orphans speak of uprooting and origin, of the moment when something loses its context and, as a result, becomes something new.
Together, Griffioen and Ellens form a diptych about disappearance and becoming — about the ongoing process in which identity, nature, and culture push away from and embrace each other. Where I End and You Begin shows that border zone: the fragile yet fertile moment when something stops being itself and, as a result, truly comes to life.