Art on the ferry from CS

Your Museum Night 2023 starts on ferry F4 from Amsterdam CS to NDSM. It Amsterdam Ferry Festival at Museum Night, in collaboration with the Van Gogh Museum, presents how the changing city is a subject that fascinates artists. Six contemporary photographers (Sem Langendijk, Hans Boddeke, Simone Peerdeman, Anna Swagerman, Hanane El Ouardani, Sanja Marusic) who capture today's Amsterdam with their cameras have been invited to make new work. The ferry between CS and the NDSM site will become their 'canvas' from 4 November during Museum Night. For this presentation, they are not only inspired by the frayed edges along the IJ, but also by the paintings that Van Gogh and his contemporaries made of the transition areas around Paris.

In addition to watching these images, you can also listen to a spoken-word performance at the point between NDSM and CS by Luna Wicks between 19:00 — 20:00. Under the musical accompaniment of musician Froodough (Daniel Lee), this duo takes you into a story about the changing city.

Grand light installation by Boris Acket

NDSM-werf Foundation and Kinetic North Foundation will present two site-sensitive works during Museum Night, to be seen and listened to on this evening only. Boris Acket creates a grand passage that plays with the notion of boundaries, an installation of light and sound that connects the outdoor area with the interior of the NDSM Loods. The soundscape's echo system is powered by field recordings made around NDSM in the weeks before the event. We had a conversation with Boris about his work at NDSM during Museumnacht, you can find the entire interview in our online magazine.

With music specially composed for NDSM, Off-Track adds an extra layer to the environment, the water and the monumental buildings, and allows you, as a visitor, to experience NDSM in a different way.

New Dakota Art Space

Bee New Dakota you can immerse yourself in love and what love means. Artist duo Tengbeh Kamara & Sophie Engels take you on a loving journey into the exhibition Yes, I Do where you can also have yourself and your loved one (whether that's your partner, family member, or pet) captured. You can immediately take the polaroid photo, which is taken by the artists, as a witness to your special band.

During the evening, artist Marieke van Rooy, also one of the participating artists in the exhibition, will Yes, I Do, be present to perform an ongoing performance. In addition, New Dakota also organizes a silent disco where you can let your (and your loved one's) feet off the floor.

Restaurant and art space Contrast

Bee Contrast celebrate the wonders of the water. Immerse yourself in conceptual cocktails and delectable snacks while listening to live DJs, and descend into an exhibition exploring Symbiosis' intricate dance in a project by Italian photographer Giacomo d'Orlando. Learn how more than 3 billion people depend on marine ecosystems for their livelihoods and consider the delicate balance that is being disrupted by climate change and overfishing. An evening of music, art, and awareness.

STRAAT Museum

STRAAT, the largest street art museum in Europe, also opens its doors during Museum Night. In addition to wandering around among the impressive murals, you can also have several artists at work live on this evening. Do you prefer to take control of the spray can yourself? Participate in a collective work of art and let your creativity run wild.

So a lot to do at NDSM during Museum Night! Do you still want to know more about the program of other museums for this special evening? A special “Route Noord” has also been put together so that you can see all the gems of Amsterdam North during Museum Night. Click the button below for more information.

March 8, a day that focuses on equal rights and opportunities, women's freedom and militancy around the world. Throughout history, tremendous progress has been made towards gender equality, but we are far from there. Little by little, however, change is beginning to take effect, partly due to individuals who safeguard these values in their work. But what do you actually encounter as a curator and/or program maker when you work for an inclusive and equitable cultural sector? As soon as all three of us have a good cup of tea for us, Ewa gets started: “What equality and inclusiveness mean, and how they are implemented, is different for each cultural institution. I see that at NDSM, we are more concerned with accessibility from a broad perspective. I was very impressed with Sarah van Lamsweerde's performance at the Stedelijk in 2020 where, together with the visitors, we investigated how sharpened senses enable you to “see through” the works on display. At the foundation, we have been working with diversity and accessibility since 2020; who feels welcome in the public space, who can be there?”

“Woman (s) *” is used here as a term for any person who identifies as a woman.

“Since we relate to the public space,” Petra continues. We literally program outside and feel that these are necessary questions to ask. Through projects, we question the public nature of public space, that it is actually about making a multitude of different voices sound. Ask artists which under-represented people or themes deserve more attention. In the context of developments at ndsm, how do you ensure that you do not develop exclusive (public) spaces where only large chains nest for a certain group of people, but public space is created, programmed where the white straight cis man is not the norm. For example, we are now working with AFARAI's Afaina de Jong on a design for a “square/installation” at NDSM where she looks at various challenges from a feminist perspective and mainly wants to relate to the normative, white, male image of public space and its design. '

Then I ask my two interlocutors whether they still think International Women's Day is necessary. Ewa is the first to elaborate on this: “I would hope many things are no longer necessary: feminist march, international women's day, protests against racism, extinction rebellion, but we live in a reality where I think we should be glad that people are not accepting the current status quo and going out on stage for change. Unfortunately, there are a lot of reasons why March 8 remains necessary; femicide and abuse worldwide, the wage and orgasm gap, the unpaid work that is often done by women (tip, check the studies by Women Inc.)”. “And often not as unpaid work”, Petra adds, “but seen as' care '”. Ewa nods: “just to name a few examples”. “But I also find it complicated sometimes,” says Petra, “fighting for one issue seems to push the other issue for attention, even though so many issues are important. You can't rank them by importance.” I did tell my kids about International Women's Day today, but in the end, it's about leading by example.”

“Especially within the cultural sector, many steps have been taken in recent years,” Ewa continues, “at the front, better representation of non-dominant perspectives in collections and exhibitions (for example, look at enhanced collections from major museums, platforms such as Titty Mag, podcasts such as Naked on a Dress, etc.), there is more attention for forgotten/invisible icons, and a growing number of (young) non-male directors at the back. Making numbers or percentages leading doesn't seem like the sustainable solution to me, it's about embracing representation in the broadest sense, of different worldviews.”

“We also can't tar all women with the same brush and expect everyone to look the same.” Petra adds, “feminism is quickly seen as something that defines your identity, while education, background, etc. are also enormously decisive and are reasons why not every woman thinks or expects the same about feminism. Feminists and activists also sometimes attack each other harshly for not being activist enough or reacting or acting incorrectly. This makes it difficult. The sensitivities can also be crippling.”

Then I ask about the practices at NDSM: what are the challenges you face when it comes to diverse and equal art programming at NDSM? Ewa: “We use the context of NDSM and the scale of the site to create large installations in the public space. However, finding female artists who work on the large scale that fits in a field like NDSM is sometimes a challenge.” The word phallus art (by men) is mentioned for a moment. “So here's an appeal to all female artists who have big plans/works or are looking for a place to grow in them,” Petra adds, “call us, all tips are welcome.”

“At NDSM, we try to work from an intersectionality, along different axes. A good example of a project last year that dealt with this theme was 'An-Sisters [NDSM] 'by belit sağ. belit commissioned us to create an audio-video installation in which they illuminate the invisible stories of Turkish female migrant workers by means of video portraits. belit interviewed several women for this work who worked at NDSM in sewing workshops after the shipyard, and a daughter of them who were now working at NDSM. happens to live at NDSM. We think it's important to realize such projects and show them in public space, in order to let a wide audience learn about these kinds of pieces of history of the place, of Amsterdam and the Netherlands, that are really underexposed.”

Finally, I ask Ewa and Petra if they have any reading tips for those interested in this theme. Ewa council I Am My Muse by Loes Faber, “about quirky women who changed art history”. Continue to check out the artist's work Carmen Schabracq, Umaversity, Yamuna Forzani's projects and love for my girlfriend Tina Fariteh which is now a expo curated with work by female Iranian artists.” Petra: “my little Bible until something takes its place is Witches, Witch Hunting, And Women by Silvia Federici. Shocking, but super relevant, and also check out videos/lectures of her, an incredibly inspiring woman! Furthermore, the artist inspires Agnes Denes me because of her grand project with the grain field in New York. In addition, I've been a fan of the Feminist Handicraft Party. And I would like to give a shoutout to a number of friends and power people in my life, such as Ama van Dantzig, and Orlando Maaike Gouwenberg, director of Jester and curator of the NL entry of the Venice Biennale with Melanie Bonajo (heart).”

The work 'STARS' that you are presenting at the NDSM not only looks like a beautiful shimmering starry sky, but also has a purpose. Can you tell us a bit more about how the idea for this installation came about?

We live in a very turbulent time; the climate crisis is the most threatening challenge for humans. As an artist and designer, I see it as a design assignment. Every morning I ask myself, “Is it possible to design a better world? Is it possible to invent a better future?”

My daily routine consists of experiments, tests, research, failures, and sometimes successes. 'STARS' was created during one of these days when I was experimenting with the beneficial effects of specific light waves on stressed plants. A stressed plant does not work as it should; too much stress can lead to permanent damage or even death to the tree. To achieve the global plan for atmospheric carbon sequestration, we need to heal and support the existing flora. Plants use the power of our nearest star for their metabolic process. 'STARS' replicates it, giving extra vitality to the surrounding landscape and at the same time transforming it into a dreamscape.

The light installation uses the solar radiation it is exposed to during the day and returns it at night. The bulbs show different shades that mimic the solar spectrum. Can you delve deeper into the stylistic choices such as the different sizes of the light bulbs?

It all started with understanding what part of the solar spectrum plants use for their metabolic processes and how they can capture and release it when it isn't supplied naturally. After deciphering the physics behind the process, I simply let the plants choose their favorite colors.

With 'STARS', I wanted to bring the sky a little closer to people, to make them feel part of the cosmos. When you look at the sky at night, some stars look brighter than others; some closer, some more brilliant. I wanted to bring all of this to Earth, recreate the beauty of a starry night and bring people among the stars.

In addition, with 'STARS', you ask the question: “is it possible to stimulate nature?” This work shows that there are ways to support the existing flora. What do you think we can do ourselves as individuals to stimulate nature, especially in an urban environment?

Everyone can actively contribute to a better future. We have a great opportunity to shape tomorrow's world today. Through our choices, we are the true designer of our own and collective future.

Dealing respectfully and thoughtfully with our choices — our daily choices — will already make the whole system better. Every thing counts right now.

Plants are highly sensitive to noise, light and pollution. If we think carefully about our carbon footprint, we can make the plants work at their best and create the basis for sustaining life on Earth as we know it, which for me is extremely beautiful.

Do you see this light installation as a message to give people a sense of hope about the future?

Absolutely. For centuries and millennia, humans have been following the stars to navigate safely across the dark oceans. Now, I'm hoping the stars can help us navigate through this threatening time of change. I really hope that the people who are watching or reading about the installation will come up with other solutions to make this a better place. We've just started a plan to combat climate change and we need everyone to fix it. I am a strong believer in people, in their ability to adapt and respond to threats, in their resilience, and in their imagination. What I like most is watching the people who stand just below the installation with their noses turned to the sky and find a private moment in the infinity of the sky.

What do you think of the NDSM as a rather industrial stage for your work that is more grey than green?

Honestly, I couldn't think of a better place for the project. It is indeed grey, but the greenery is still growing and it is our duty to make it healthy and lush. A place like the NDSM is a place where many factors can strain the plants, but it's also where we make the strongest statement. We're not letting greyness win, we're fighting. We are doing everything we can to succeed.

I think we've sent a message to the whole world. Even when the conditions are unfavorable and even when it seems impossible, there are always lights in our sky that we should chase. After all, we're all made of stardust.

click here to see more work by Cosimo Scotucci and click here to follow him on Instagram.

Can you tell us about the role that light and sound play in your work and what effect this has on the audience?

“Although I've been working with light and sound for years, I wouldn't consider myself a light or sound artist. I think one of my artistic goals is to create sensory environments that respond to a pre-existing context that can be physical, historical, or sociological. In this sense, light and sound, especially when combined, allow me to bring my own perishable landscape into public space, which mixes with light and sound that are already part of the environment.

I'm also inclined to regard light and sound as the most universal form of vibration imaginable, and even though this work uses language, the light and sound signals could also be seen as universal stimuli.”

The work The Great Indecision Council, shown at the NDSM, shows both abstract patterns and words. The previous times the installation was seen elsewhere, these words showed the most frequent Google searches in the country where the installation was located. How did you come up with this idea?

“Yes, that's how the installation usually works. To make it more location-specific to the NDSM, I've modified the algorithm for this version to combine the most popular words on Twitter in the Amsterdam region with the most accessed news nationally.

In fact, it's one step closer to my original idea: I wanted to reveal and reinforce what people really care about with this installation. My assumption is that what you look up on Google and Twitter when no one is watching you reflects your real thoughts in all their dimensions, and that's where the most trivial thoughts can meet conceptual or political content.”

The technical infrastructures behind the remote and wireless connections are huge and complex

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What's the most surprising online search you've come across?

Part of the concept of this art installation is that I cannot know in advance what will be shown. For an artist, this loss of control is both stimulating and challenging. In addition, I can usually only ask local people to explain to me what the installation depicts, because I don't speak the language. This sometimes makes for very interesting interactions.

One story I can share about how I was surprised by a Google search was the time I showed this installation in France in the middle of the 2019 Yellow Vest protest period, when there were massive strikes across the country and many people were asking for the government to resign. It was very interesting to see that the installation amplified these voices. I think it really made sense as an art project in public spaces.

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What do you find interesting about transferring the digital world into the physical realm and confronting the public with it?

I've never felt comfortable with the discourse where everything digital is presented as “non-material” (remember the words) cloud, air-something, wireless, light, smart and so on). The technical infrastructures behind the remote and wireless connections are huge and complex, and we are now also collectively beginning to realise how much energy they require. As an artist, my response is to make these structures visible: although I have a visual approach that is quite minimalistic, all technical structures and cables are visible in my work. Of course, the fact that I often work on a large scale is also part of that idea.

What do you think of the NDSM as a stage for your work?

I like that this temporary work takes place in such a vibrant artistic spot among other artworks — some official, some unofficial — because the area is also an important place for street art. I also see an interesting parallel in the different ways of using text: from graffiti to several previous neon works commissioned by Stichting NDSM-werf, where freedom of expression is a central part.

click here to see more of Romain Tardy's work.

For more than twenty years, he has been laying Muholi black queer, transgender and intersex people caught through his lens, resulting in powerful contrasting black and white portraits that reclaim the meaning of “blackness” and undermine the clichéd, stereotypical images of black people. His work is a genuine representation of the black and queer identity whose versatility is shown in a celebrated way. For the photographer, the people in their photos are not “just” models, but rather participants who contribute as much to the photo as themselves.

The works on display at the NDSM are all self-portraits by the artist, where Muholi in two cases looks directly into the camera, or rather, into the eye of the viewer. Muholi has increased the contrast of the images to highlight the color of his skin. In addition, Muholi takes on a different shape in each photo — through the use of everyday matter — changing it into different characters. In the work 'Kodwa I, Amsterdam' (2017), the artist is draped in hair, once again challenging stereotypes about Africans.

Over the years, his work has been exhibited in leading museums worldwide, such as Tate Modern in London and the Guggenheim Museum in New York. In 2017, Muholi debuted his photo series “Somnyama Ngonyama” (Hail, the Dark Lioness) in the Netherlands at the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam, along with a selection of photos from his series “Faces and Phases” and “Brave Beauties”. With several awards, Muholi has become one of the most acclaimed photographers of our time.

The compelling works shown on the NDSM Billboards were shown during Pride week Amsterdam.

García and Camargo met fifteen years ago and have been collaborating on various projects since 2011. García's work includes sculptures, videos and interventions in public spaces and addresses socio-political themes, including unequal housing opportunities in cities. Camargo is a visual artist whose work focuses on exploring stories about the notion of simulacrum (an image or representation of someone or something) in the context of an image-driven society. Together, they founded an artist collective in Mexico City called 'Colective Trafico Libre de Conocimientos', TLC (Free Knowledge Traffic Collective). The collective has five other members and experiments with public space, education and art and focuses on critical thinking, collective learning and knowledge sharing.

The rather compact city of Maastricht is a completely different world for the artist duo as they are used to traveling long distances in Mexico City. Their stay in the Netherlands has given them more time to focus on their projects and the residency at the Jan van Eyck Academy provided them with the opportunity to share their work and research with different people and gather their input. Thanks to the Open Call, the artists were also able to discover the capital. They had never heard of the NDSM in Amsterdam before, but during their research, they learned a lot about the rich history of the former shipyard and the city's possible wet fate. The latter inspired them to come up with the idea for the installation 'Are We Future Sediment? ' on the NDSM.

Water is a recurring theme in García and Camargo's work, which they approach in a very poetic way. They found that there is such a contrast in the relationship that the Netherlands has with water compared to Mexico. “In Mexico, we have a lot of problems with water, but unlike in the Netherlands. In Mexico, there is a shortage of them. There is a lot of rain, but nothing is being done with it. The water that falls mixes with the city's soil, making it dirty right away,” explains García. “The drought in Mexico is very complex. In that regard, we need to think about how we can capture the rain,” she continues. For the Open Call, she proposed an idea for a fog catcher that they had wanted to realize in Mexico but were not yet able to achieve. “It's a really good opportunity to learn how to do it, and maybe we can do it there too when we return to Mexico,” says García. “It's like a sketch for other projects,” Camargo adds.

The installation created by the artist duo consists of a five-metre-high banner whose structure is usually used for public advertising along roads in the Netherlands. Within this structure, there is a mesh fog catcher that captures water droplets in the air. It is essentially a water collector that condenses the rain and, via a piping system, the water is led to the mobile garden in front of it. The total height of the structure is five meters; the estimated level that the water will reach in five decades if no action is taken. The most striking is the message that is embroidered on it: “Are we future sediment?”

Instead of fighting against the water, maybe we can accept that it was here before we did. How can we live with it and not against it?

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The artists reflect on the idea that the current soil of Amsterdam can become the sediment of tomorrow. “In that sense, we are the future sediment. And we have to think about what kind of sediment we want to be,” says García. Their approach to the threatening waters is quite unique. “Instead of fighting against the water, maybe we can accept that it was here before us. How can we live with it and not against it?” , adds García. “The problem is that we now only see water as an object, in a very utilitarian way. Maybe it would be good if we could develop a kind of empathy for it,” she continues. That is why the work not only captures the water, but also welcomes it.

Before working on this project, García and Camargo started researching two underwater volcanoes located at the bottom of the sea in the north of the Netherlands. These volcanoes formed the bottom of the Jurassic era and are now part of the marine sediment. “You have to remember that volcanoes and water are entities of nature,” says Camargo. “Something we're thinking about is whether water and volcanoes have their own agency and how we can understand that. How can we develop a different relationship with them? Instead of seeing them as things or resources, we can see them as subjects with their own rights and way of life,” adds García. With their installation at the NDSM, they want to “continue this exploration of water as a living being with a geological memory.”

Public space isn't just the physical thing, the path, the park, the street or the square. It is the relationships that develop that space. It's about people sharing experiences.

The artists regard the NDSM as a very valuable public space where many different things and projects exist at the same time. They emphasise the importance of the human element in public space. “I think working in public spaces can cause that effect of weirdness. It's like a shock to people because they're not used to seeing something like that and it allows people to share something with each other. I think that public art can increase the 'public' in public spaces,” says García. “Public space isn't just the physical thing, the path, the park, the street or the square. It is the relationships that develop that space. It's about people sharing experiences,” she adds. After the public intervention, the duo wants to donate the plants that make up the mobile garden to people who live and work in the neighborhood.

García and Camargo deliberately chose to incorporate a familiar object — the banner — into their work to take it out of its usual context. “I love works that use ordinary street objects, such as billboards like this. I see them a lot in the Netherlands for marketing and advertising purposes. They can sell anything on it: products, houses or dreams. But we can also use them for other ideas, and people will recognize them anyway,” says Camargo. “It shows the possibility of objects,” adds the artist. In this context, the banner is used to convey a message that the artists hope people will think about. “I think it's kind of a joke in a way. The billboard is like a tombstone,” notes Camargo. “It's a question about time. The time is huge, it is massive. Human life takes 100 years, but Earth's time is another concept,” he continues. “So it's an invitation to think about the future, but also about the present. What kind of future are we building right now?” , adds García.

click here to follow Amauta García and here to follow David Camargo on Instagram.

Who SpY is is is quite a mystery. Although what you do — your work — has (been) seen in many cities around the world. How would you describe the essence of your work?

My goal is to address the audience directly to induce reflection and dialogue, to interrogate them and to allow them to act as active rather than passive subjects. In this sense, the urban environment facilitates and promotes this process.

I look beyond the formalism or aesthetics of the works, so that my own artistic attitude and that of the audience becomes a way of building the work in its entirety.

Observing and being receptive to dialogue with the city has been the process and framework in which I have expressed and communicated my ideas for years.

Your work is very public, but you, as an artist, are not. What is the motivation behind staying under the radar?

We're living in a time of social media overexposure that creates confusing realities. We're navigating a blur of misinformation and hectic social conditioning. Distraction is preferred over concentration, the automatic over the reflexive, and confrontation over empathy. The earthly order is being replaced by the digital order that denaturalizes the world's things and emotions by automating them.

All this overwhelms me and by staying in the background, I can move quietly without exposing myself too much to the media that should create a “SpY” character where everyone expects a witty and brilliant summary of the intentions of the works.

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How did you get started with what you do and how did your public interventions evolve over the years?

At the end of the 80s — attracted by the paintings I saw on the street — I started painting graffiti.

As an autodidact, I started developing my own paintings and identifying myself with my own style, I had no experience nor was educated at an art school, but I was strongly attracted to the idea of seeing my name everywhere.

After many years of working on the streets, it was as a natural evolution that I developed a keen sense of seeing the city as an artistic medium with great opportunities to create my current urban artworks.

From graffiti to the present, I have been characterised by a determination and curiosity to explore other means and formats in my work. I spend a lot of time thinking, theory, practice and managing projects. My aim is to raise important questions that generate reflection around the work, and I try to formalize and communicate these approaches through different formats.

It has been a journey where I have transformed my working method and proposed new ways of working within this framework.

There are a lot of people involved in developing your ideas, can you explain what SpY Studio's platform is and how you work?

It is a highly dynamic studio that adapts quickly to the new challenges of each project. The studio is both a laboratory space and an eclectic team of specialists, technicians and craftspeople who work together with a strong desire to learn and explore. Intertwining disciplines and collaborating with other professionals from different areas presupposes a solid work methodology that adapts well to different challenges while being flexible enough to be open to experimenting with the unexpected.

The Studio is currently researching and experimenting with kinetic art in motion and the use of new tools and media that combine the digital, mechanical, and electronic with elements of the urban imagination that we usually find on the streets of every city.

For example, we are working on a large permanent kinetic installation for the atrium of a hospital in Switzerland. It requires sophisticated engineering that integrates seamlessly into architecture and a customized programming system that will bring all the movements of the work to life. It is a project on which we will be collaborating with an engineering firm and two architecture studios, and it will take two years for the hospital to be completed and operational.

In a more ephemeral way, we recently created a 60-metre-long kinetic sculpture called ECLYPSES in the warehouses of the old weapons factory, consisting of 20 backlit mobile drives and a sound system. This work involves visitors in a unique experience through the modulation of scale, light, color and music. The different elements are combined through choreographies that form a sequence of hypnotic and compelling patterns.

And how have you developed as an artist now that your works are increasingly being picked up in many cities and by diverse cultures on different continents?

Each project is ultimately a learning process, because there is never a work like the last. It's always about new challenges where we try to understand and connect new tools, propose different research processes, and surround ourselves with the best possible team to carry them out.

As I said, through my works, I try to raise important questions that we, as a society, need to keep an eye on. This quest is formalized by conceptual contrasts between the aesthetics of my works and the difficult connotations of the objects they are built with, often elements used to condition people's behavior.

The work 'Barrier Tape' on the NDSM relates to the natural elements around it, creating a hypnotic (multi-sensory) experience for the audience. Can you tell us more about how your idea for this work came about and where this fascination with using everyday objects in your public works of art comes from?

It's about creating new works from the everyday. You start the process based on elements that are already familiar to most, but if you regroup them into a new combination, you are already creating something new and memorable.

This is a sound sculpture made with recycled deposit tape that continues the line of kinetic works with hypnotic patterns that I've explored in my latest projects.

Something fundamental in the work is the dialogue with the context and effect of the wind that plays and dances with the tapes, creating beautiful choreographies and wavy movements throughout the installation, almost as if it were a sea wave.

As you can see, it's a living work that interacts with the audience, making it part of the experience and creating a memorable moment for everyone.

Your works are in dialogue with their urban environment. 'Barrier Tape' explores the urban context of the NDSM and recalls the ever-changing nature of this place and the city of Amsterdam. How do you view or approach these changes as someone who is not from here and how do you translate this into a work?

I believe that, as an artist, you should not strive for the complacency and acceptance of the widest possible audience with your propositions. You have to be faithful and consistent in what you want to express, and work within an artistic rigor, even if not everyone likes it. But you also need to understand the context in which you are exhibiting your works and enter into dialogue with it, because we have an important responsibility when we share our creations with neighbours and residents who give up their space, otherwise we are not much different from the mass advertising noise.

Finally, you'll explore the urban environment as a “playing field full of untapped opportunities”. What kind of “playing field” do you think the NDSM is?

Without a doubt, the urban environment is a framework that offers great opportunities to work and propose artistic projects. From micro, as a small intervention on an urban element, to macro with a large installation in the urban core of a city.

Cities can generally be quite rigid, but the street acts like a living entity with blood flowing through it. It is not an aseptic space like the gallery, museum, or stock exchange. It is constantly evolving and that is part of the creation process of the works.

In the case of 'Barrier Tape' at NDSM, the artistic proposal in this public space is aimed at making passers-by complicit in their own city, and thus leaving behind the monotony that usually takes up their lives in big cities.

Rarely do we find artistic performances that break into the everyday life of cities to generate reflection and dialogue between creators, cities and citizens.

Manaf Halbouni was born in Damascus, Syria, where he spent most of his life and currently — as he says — “works and lives everywhere”. In 2008, he completed his studies in sculpture at the University of Fine Arts in his hometown, before moving to Dresden where he graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts. Halbouni's work covers a wide range of media, including everyday objects and materials, and is characterised by a socially critical approach to themes related to war, global conflicts, flights, borders and migration. The artist is not afraid to use public space as a stage for his art, which has certainly caused quite a stir in the past. This article illustrates the creation of one of Halbouni's most iconic works' Monument ', which is now on display at the NDSM.

With five different trucks, Halbouni's immense work is Monument transported from the warehouse in Berlin to the NDSM site in Amsterdam. This twelve-metre-high installation consists of three German passenger buses that are placed side by side and have their “noses” turned to the sky in an upright position. Due to its size and composition, it disappears Monument certainly not in the background of the expansive quay, but it immediately attracts attention when you get off the ferry. The installation was exhibited for the first time in 2017 at the Neumarkt in Dresden, Germany, and can still be admired at the NDSM until the end of August.

While he's at work “Nowhere is home” exhibited at the 2015 Venice Biennale, Halbouni read the news one morning and stumbled across the widespread image that Syrian photographer Karam Al-Masri made in the Bustan al-Qasr neighborhood of Aleppo. The March 14 photo shows how three destroyed public buses were raised to form a barricade to protect civilians from snipers when the country's civil war reached a climax. “I saw the image and thought how amazing it is what people do to protect themselves,” says Halbouni. “They blocked the streets for snipers so they could open their stores on the other side of the barricade,” Halbouni continues. “I started playing on paper by cutting out the buses with Photoshop. I placed them [hypothetically] in public squares in Europe and imagined that this is a peace sculpture against the war”.

Two years elapsed between experimenting with the idea and implementing it for the first time. During that period, Kunsthaus Dresden asked Halbouni to make a work for their cultural festival. Am Fluss, zu Cultures des Ankommens [By the river, about cultures of arrival]. Halbouni showed them the images he had taken with Photoshop and said, “How about doing that?” His proposal was met with some reluctance because — given its size — it was a very ambitious plan. However, the artist had already come up with an idea for the construction of the work so that the buses could stand firmly. After further negotiations with the city, they received permission to continue the project, and with donations from the local community, they were able to do so.

And there is always war, but there is also reconstruction.

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In 2017, Monument installed on the Neumarkt in Dresden near the Frauenkirche; a very symbolic location considering that the church was demolished in World War II and rebuilt after German reunification. “I've done historical research into the situation in Dresden in '45 when it was bombed and Aleppo in 2015, which was almost completely destroyed by the bombings. I wanted to show how war and peace can change very quickly,” says Halbouni. “And there is always war, but there is also reconstruction. Dresden was rebuilt after the war ended. So there is also hope for the people of Aleppo and the Middle East in general. But first, the war must stop”. The memorial — as an “undamaged” symbol of hope — was placed in the square a few days before the annual memorial day on February 13, where the victims of the city's bombing are commemorated.

Although Halbouni's Monument intended to bridge the war experiences of the Middle East and Europe, the work was — to say the least — not very well received by some of the spectators. Dresden is home to the right-wing anti-immigration movement Pegida, whose supporters were ready to vehemently disrupt the 2017 opening and criticize the work. Around 400 people shouted at Halbouni as he tried to elaborate on its significance. “They didn't see it as a peace memorial, but as a provocation by me to insult the German victims of the Second World War. That wasn't the intention at all!” , explains Halbouni. “It's a reference to all war victims, inspired by an image from Syria. But the far-right dynamic is always very interesting, as they try to tweak stories to make them fit their own alley. They had changed the meaning of the work to portray it in a hateful light. This had quite an impact”. Halbouni must be strong, because he has also faced countless hate emails and death threats. How he dealt with that? Well, Halbouni gave it an artistic twist. “I actually made a work of art out of it. I printed out 15 of those e-mails — 'the best of' — and showed them in an exhibition”.

A lot of people didn't see it as art. They called it Schrott or crap.

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Moreover, art in public spaces was a hot topic of the discussion in Dresden at that time. The three-part 'readymade' installation touches strongly on the perpetual question of what art is or isn't. “A lot of people didn't see it as art. They called it Schrott or crap,” notes the artist. Here in Amsterdam, too, some people have expressed skepticism on social media about why this is considered art, possibly without knowing its background. However, Halbouni deliberately uses a lot of ready-made art in his work that people can recognize from everyday life. “You can reach people much better with that and let them interact with or think about your work than if it were something complicated,” Halbouni explains. The artist likes to observe how people engage with his work in public spaces, and he noticed that something interesting happened at the Neumarkt in Dresden in 2017. “The funny thing was that everyone met in front of the buses to have those discussions; both those who were in favor of public art and those who were against it were standing there talking the whole time. That was great. They weren't yelling at each other. It was like in a parliament,” explains the artist. The installation was on display in Dresden for two months, and it was always busy during that period. “Normally it's a place where only tourists come, but during those two months, the whole of Dresden was there”.

For Halbouni, exhibiting his work in public spaces allows him to discuss with people and understand what they think about it. “Public space is that innocent place where you can reach everyone. Technically, you're forcing people to watch something because they can't escape it. In contrast to indoor galleries where people decide to go,” says the artist. “I show things in a different way than you know them. Most of the time, people are annoyed at my work at first. But then I notice how they're going to think about it and later have that “Oh, I get it now” moment. This often happens with Monument”. Halbouni even took the courage to visit a far-right demonstration in Dresden in 2015, where he was Sachse auf der Vlught [Saks on the run] created a refugee scenario at Theatherplatz and engaged in talks with protesters to understand their opposition position. This was his first public art installation and even though a demonstration was underway, the encounters that took place were not aggressive. “A very important fact is that when you talk to people who don't share your views, you need a neutral meeting point. Monument was exactly that in 2017,” Halbouni explains.

With the events in Ukraine and all the aggressions everywhere, we need it more than ever. We need peace.

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After Dresden became Monument set up in 2017 at the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin during the Berliner Herbstsalon festival. Here, too, the context of this location added an extra layer of symbolism to the work, as the gate once embodied the division of the city into East and West, but also represents the reunification since the fall of the Berlin Wall. Now, five years later, Amsterdam has the honor of hosting this memorable work and drawing attention to and connecting the voices of the Middle East with those from Ukraine and other conflict zones. The unveiling of the work took place on July 7 under the musical accompaniment of the Marmoucha Orchestra. Halbouni's project will be presented at the shipyard as part of the '(Un) Monumenting' programme series by the NDSM-Werf Foundation. At the heart of this program is the question: “What should or could a monument be or could be today and for whom?” on which the artist is asked to reflect. According to Halbouni, a monument should convey a message to the public. ”Monument sends the message to think about war and peace. I hope we all take a moment and reflect on our actions and their consequences,” says the artist. “With the events in Ukraine and all the aggressions everywhere, we need it more than ever. We need peace.”

From Open Call to multi-functional basketball court

Anyone who walked across NDSM on a sunny day last year saw enthusiastic dunk attempts, spontaneous competitions and professional moves. Since we worked with our partner 3×3 Units, who are committed to empowering young people through street basketball, have created a 3X3 Legacy Court at the shipyard, it is in full use. By young and old, local residents, artists and casual passers-by. By: Ewa Scheifes, program maker Stichting NDSM-werf

After a year and a half of intensive use, the field needed repair, and we also think it's time for the location to get a new, fresh look. The enthusiasm for the field was also so great that we would like to create an additional 3X3 field so that more people can play. That's why we thought it was the right time to make our long-term dream of transforming the spot where the field lay into a visually appealing, multifunctional living space come true. A space that amazes — for example, is the basketball court also a changing canvas for art? A public place where functions intersect, for example, imagine the field transforming into a festival stage or a hang out and meeting point during events.

For example, is the basketball court also a changing canvas for art?

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In our search for who would best design a suitable and exciting concept for this — do you ask an architect, designer or graphic artist? — during a conversation with 3X3 Unites, the idea came up with a Open Call to launch. Anyone who felt addressed by the call was allowed to come forward and experience was not required, but a sharp vision was. In this way, we also hoped to reach creatives who are not yet on our radar and discover new names unknown to us.

What's next?

Mission accomplished; in the end, we received 25 applications from individuals, duos, collectives and agencies. The submissions came from the community at NDSM, from Amsterdam and the whole of the Netherlands, but also from Copenhagen and Berlin, among others. Our inbox was filled with original ideas for crossovers, declarations of love to basketball as a metropolitan street sport, and visual references for the location. From these submissions, we have chosen three parties that we are most curious about, they were invited to make a sketch proposal.

Our inbox was filled with original ideas for crossovers and declarations of love

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Because we like to be surprised and are looking for distinctive concepts, we deliberately chose three parties with different starting points and expertise, namely from architecture, spatial design and visual arts. With them, we shared a briefing with a number of hard preconditions that the concept must meet, and a set of soft values that can be played with. For example, we think of original ways of greening, circularity and sustainability, how festivals can also make use of the site and the multi-functionality of the space.

In the next phase, they will present their idea in a short pitch to the team at the NDSM-werf Foundation, 3X3 Unites and potential other partners, after which we will see which concept best suits the site. This includes whether the preconditions have been met, but also whether the idea emotionally has the “NDSM factor”, matches the appearance and use of the shipyard, and whether circularity and sustainable use of materials were taken into account in the design. The sketch proposals will be presented at the beginning of June, and in mid-June we will know which designer (s) we will be collaborating with to come to an executable design!

The two friends, Jasper Van Den Berg and Roel Wouters, sell this soup for a good cause. Under the name Mirror Soup Kitchen, they mirror the same soup dishes at the shipyard every Friday as those of the activist artist collective. Kukhnia from the Ukrainian city of Lviv.

This collective cooks simple, vegetarian soups from home and distributes them to war refugees or other people in need. They now do this from 7 locations in Lviv.

Because direct access to goods and money is currently very difficult in Lviv, Roosje Klap and her network ensured that, with the proceeds from Mirror Soup Kitchen, among other things, a large truck full of necessary goods and grains and two coaches could be sent to Lviv. They took more than a hundred people fleeing back with them.

The NDSM-werf Foundation strongly supports this initiative and on May 5, 2022, we will host a XL Edition at the Tower of Babel.

Direct remote support

The idea for Mirror Soup Kitchen came about more than two years ago when, in Beirut, Rani Al Rajji, a friendly club owner, started cooking for his community in the devastated center of the city. The explosion in the port was the last push to stop dancing but to prepare and serve hundreds of simple meals a day from his club. To support him, neighbors Jasper van den Berg and Arne Hendriks decided to mirror exactly these recipes every week from their homes and sell them to their friends and people in the neighborhood. This way and regularity ensured that attention was maintained at the place of urgency and did not fly away with time.

Want to cook soup yourself?

Have you become enthusiastic to help yourself, but don't live near the NDSM shipyard? Then you can now recreate the recipes at home. Download here the first recipe and read how you can also find and cook other Kukhnia recipes. Invite your friends and family and let's make sure we pick up as much as possible together for Kukhnia 💙💛

Want to stay up to date? Then follow us @mirrorsoupkitchen and @ndsm.

Can you tell us more about your background and your experience as a curator?

My background is mainly in event management and production. I've been circling the hospitality industry for about ten years, but at some point I also started doing events — for example in the A'DAM Tower. I haven't been working as a curator very long; the first major project I did was this one at NDSM. Via Serginho (Stekkel, ed.), I ended up at the NDSM-werf Foundation. The ensuing conversation was about giving opportunities to new curators. That was absolutely right for me, because I've been doing events for a long time, but had never put together a program of this format myself.

However, as operational manager of the Members Club at the A'DAM Tower, I was already involved in community-focused and social events — a big contrast to the commercial events I've always done — and I noticed that I felt very much at home there. I want to devote part of the time I spend in this sector to events that mean something to many different Amsterdammers.

I do my job because I want to create an unforgettable experience

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Corona is a big one for many people switch been. Many event managers, including me, had to quit or have a lot downtime had. That makes you wonder: when everything starts up again afterwards, what do I really want to do with this work?

Where do you get inspiration from as a curator? And what ambitions do you have when it comes to curating in the future?

I think that the value of what curators do — bringing people together through events — is underestimated. I've always said I do my job because I want to create an unforgettable experience for people. I want to touch people with a story. In that regard, a program must be right in every aspect and ensure that you are included in a story.

That's why I find it so interesting to combine my work as a curator with my experience as a producer and event manager. If the story and experience are both correct, the program will be unforgettable. I'm constantly looking online for artists and how they've been brought together at events that have already taken place.

You just turn on your Spotify, but what you don't get is the artist's entire process

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What aspect of the work and the identity of curators and creators do you prefer to make visible?

In addition to the fact that people and themes were highlighted by the creators of the (Come To) Light artworks, we wanted to highlight not only individuals, but also certain professions and types of work in this program. Anna (Martinova, stage name Tulpa Dusha, ed.), for example, did a performance with live synthesizers. She thus explains the labour and expose the process of making music. Among other things, we wanted to show how many artists can't hide behind one work of art.

It's so easy for us these days. You quickly turn on your Spotify, but what you don't get is the entire process of the artist behind it. That is so understudied today. Actually, we also wanted to work with a scenographer — someone who designs plays with costumes, sets, lights, you name it. At the end of a theater performance, everyone claps and the actors are the recipients of this applause. But the scenographers are actually never in the spotlight, even though they are such a big part of it. A lot of the artists I know are very humble. They do such beautiful work, but are not exposed to enough light.

Would you describe a program as a total work of art that brings together all kinds of artists?

Absolutely. Everything you see in a program contributes to a (hopefully) unforgettable experience. We also tried to show that in this program, and it's something I try to do with every other event.

At the opening of (Come to) Light, you and Serginho Stekkel presented a number of performances about creating light and giving light. This was provided by Gershwin Bonevacia and Alistair Sung (spoken word + cello), Charissa Chotoe and Soortkill, Tulpa Dusha (synthesizers) and Charmaine Wartes (music). A very diverse list. What made you choose these names and settings? What was the main idea behind this?

As a program maker, you make a lot of considerations. I would like diversity — in the sense that all cultures are represented — to be a matter of course in every program. We are talking about Amsterdam's public space here. Of course, NDSM belongs to the North district, but for this program, I also liked to invite Soortkill from the Bijlmer, for example. Normally, he wouldn't come to NDSM so quickly, but I think it's important to bring people from different corners of the city together.

Gershwin (Bonevacia, ed.) is a vocabulary artist. He can tell the complete story so beautifully, and that makes the whole thing even stronger. But especially when a program takes place in the public space, it goes beyond a single artist and must reflect the relationships of the entire city, for example with regard to the participation of men and women and different cultures and backgrounds.

You recently participated in the very first edition of NDSM's Young Curator program, where we annually ask “young” or not so experienced program makers to put together a program or event. Here we are looking for programs that connect to the shipyard as a cultural place, but with an urban and industrial character in which public space, outdoor programming, is the starting point. What is the importance of young people in the field of curatorship for you?

If we want public space to offer space for polyphony (an important spearhead of Stichting NDSM-werf, ed.), it is important that there are curators who also attract younger people to a program. My age group connect not always good with a museum or an exhibition. By putting together a program that is indeed inviting for young people, you contribute to who they are, to their inspiration and their social, cultural and social development. That's why the story should appeal to them, and if the curators themselves are also young, this connecting function is filled more quickly.

In this edition, we speak with visual artists Alice Wong and Crys Leung. Anyone who recently took an evening walk at NDSM may have already passed their new project without even realizing it: the work Cohesion is because it is so big that it cannot be seen at a glance.

How did this project start for you?

Alice (A): Last August, we were asked to participate in this open-air exhibition. At that time, we were on a summer vacation together. We had never done a project in the public space before, but we decided: “Why not?” This is the seventh project we're working on together, and we were excited to challenge ourselves with something new.

It's always fascinating to work with a new medium. I call myself a “story designer”: I love to embed narratives in my work, and it works well to use different media for that. If a certain story is best told in a podcast, I'll create a podcast. If it needs to be shown with a chair, then I'll push myself to make a chair. If it has to be a circle, we'll make a circle.

What a nice, open-minded attitude! How did a concrete idea come about then?

Crys (C): We had to think deeply about how best to make a work of art for the public space. We wanted to do something that wasn't too technical, with lots of wires and cables.

A: We also focused on the text that explains “(Come To) Light”: it was about inclusivity, visibility, bringing people together, about what is seen and what is not. After that, we sat in a café for a few days and thought about this in the context of NDSM. We agreed that this is a place where everything happens, but also a place that people call home. For many people — from migrants to artists — NDSM has been a kind of gateway. What histories does this area have, how can we bring them together, and what should be visible here after this pandemic? That's when we decided to name the project “Cohesion”.

When you stand next to it, you can't see exactly what it is

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C: It was not an option to use high-end technology, such as cables, programming, TV screens, or anything else that is susceptible to damage.

A: We wanted to make something analogous that, as a medium and concept, still manages to bring people together well. At one point, we looked at the NDSM map and asked ourselves, “Why don't we just create one big circle?” The first idea was to create a huge shape, almost one kilometer wide, that would cover the slopes and various buildings such as the Hilton hotel. That was kind of our male ego talking; we wanted to do something really big and paint the walls all over.

C: That's when we were confronted with reality. We couldn't just place a piece of art in so many places, so we made the circle smaller. That's when we started glow-in-the-dark paint to consider, or thermoreactive material, or anything that would invite people to touch the work.

So the goal was to keep it analog yet interactive?

A: Yes, it was supposed to surprise people and make them wonder, “What is this about?” We wanted to make something light-reflective.

C: Next, we spent a lot of time researching materials — a big part of this project. We've reached out to suppliers in many different countries to find material that can withstand wind, rain, and outdoor temperatures. This turned out to be 3M Stamark road marking tape.

A: We needed a lot of help from friends. Making the proposal, writing out the concept, setting up the material inventory; it all took a lot of math. Without the help of all these people, we would not have been able to make this circle.

C: And since the project is called 'Cohesion', it has even more meaning.

Can you tell us more about what 'Cohesion' symbolises?

A: We've created a circle that's too big to see at a personal glance — that's what it starts with. When you stand next to it, you can't really see what it is exactly. A line? A circle? Am I inside or outside? We want people to ask themselves these kinds of things and give them different meanings.

We can't really judge the things we see until we look at them from different perspectives and have the full picture in front of us. Especially nowadays, everyone clings to different information, assuming that what we know is the correct version. But we seldom realize that one perspective isn't always better than the other — it's often just the knowledge that fed us or what we've been told. Together, all these perspectives contribute to our reality, and that is what the circle should symbolize. In addition, by placing the circle in this specific spot, we remind the audience that, despite our differences, we must keep coming together in physical space.

The work already brought people together, even when it wasn't there yet

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How do people respond to work?

C: People respond to it in different ways. Sometimes they come to us to talk to us. But today, people also started parking their cars next to the line — something they're more likely to do if the line is a little thinner. That way, it matches their perception of real signage. And when we swept the ground before we could attach the road marking tape, we received compliments from some police officers for keeping the area clean.

A: All these public reactions and incidents made us realize that even though we created the whole circle, it's impossible even for us to see the full picture, and therefore the different ways of dealing with it.

What's it like for you to show work in the public space? What do you find valuable or important about that?

C: This is the first time we've done a project in public space, and also the first time we've talked to so many different people throughout the process. Because we do something with the surface on which people walk, everyone had to cooperate. At one point, a car was in the way, and we had no choice but to go find that person. After all, it's hard to keep drawing a circle if you skip a piece and the lines are no longer connected.

Would you like to work in the public space more often?

C: We could certainly do it again, but maybe on a smaller scale. In the future, we will also take more account of external factors, such as weather conditions.

A: Working in public spaces means working automatically with many different people, and that requires commitment from all sides. That can be challenging, but it also brings cohesion.

By doing this project and talking to a lot of people, we became part of this area ourselves. And our recognisable, bright green suits helped with that, too. The process itself became almost a performance in itself. It's not like people wake up on a Monday morning and work is suddenly there. As we worked on it, ran around and widened the circle bit by bit, people started questioning it. So that's another layer: the work was already bringing people together, even when it wasn't finished.

C: Sometimes, however, we couldn't keep talking to people; we don't have all day, and the project has to be completed! Until last week, this led us to the following conclusion: the circle is the result, but cohesion is the process.

The exhibition '(Come To) Light' can be visited free of charge at NDSM in the winter of 2021 - 2022, with different durations and dates per work.

How did this project start for you?

I came to the so-called Free Energy conspiracy theory on track by watching videos suggested to me by the YouTube algorithm. The protagonists in the Free Energy The Internet's niche claim that there are better, cheaper, and more efficient and ecological ways to produce energy. This caught my attention because I think it's one of the biggest challenges we face today. There are voices in that scene who are sure that this knowledge is being suppressed by the authorities and the oil or nuclear lobby. However, this seems to me to be a conspiracy theory. I found videos and guides from Free Energy prototypes, such as machines and batteries, that promise to produce energy without wasting resources but by using undiscovered energy sources. What fascinates me is this idea of making inventions that should revolutionize our society and our way of life. It's like looking for the “stone of wisdom”: trying to make gold with alchemy, inventing machines that bring peace, and so on. Some of these projects work as a perpetual mobile machine (which is impossible under the laws of physics), others use energy fields from the Earth or space. Their creators (critical voices would say “pseudo-scientists”) make the fair point that there are many things we don't know yet — just like humanity believed the Earth was flat for a long time. That brings us to another niche of the conspiracy theory on YouTube.

What do you find most compelling about these theories?

I find it interesting to see how these “utopian” machines are claimed as disruptive technologies and how they are presented in these underground scene. The tech industry loves disruptive technology, referring to a catharsis or cleansing storms that wipe out old systems and habits. Presentations of tech products are usually less questionable than when presenting a perpetual mobile machine. And I agree that there are good reasons for this on one level. On the other hand, the tech industry largely determines what is seen as utopian today and also what should be swept away by their disruptive technology. We are constantly confronted with new technologies that promise to make our lives better. This technology is also so present that it is very difficult to beat around it. When you are then confronted with a presentation of a machine that produces electricity and thus drives a light bulb — and its inventor tells you that this offers an opportunity to change the world and liberate humanity — that is somehow poetic.

I'm not sure if this Free Energy movement should be brought to light.

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I got in touch with some of these hobby scientists and asked them if they would provide me with some of their inventions. Eventually, I started working with “crystal batteries”, consisting of sticks of aluminum, copper and magnesium, that make tiny LEDs blink. The myth of these batteries is that they last forever as an endless supply of energy.

The second work, “Peak Panic,” includes two photos — one of a Coca-Cola bottle mask, and the other shows a DIY candle made from a light bulb. It was interesting for me to revisit this 2016 work through the lens of our current times and the global pandemic. I knew DIY masks and protections from protests and also found manuals for building them in Prepper community forums, which are preparing for all kinds of apocalyptic scenarios. When I saw images of people wearing these items in supermarkets and public transport at the start of the pandemic, it felt like the battlefield was expanding. We've become accustomed to masks and other safety measures as part of our awareness to take care of ourselves. It's interesting how easily these things can change, and how a homemade mask can take on a new meaning over time.

What role do the elements of light and visibility play in your work?

I'm not sure if this one Free Energy movement “must come to light” or that everyone should know about it. I don't really think so. I'm not trying to give this specific group of people a stage and visibility. Rather, I project my own story about how these ideas are told and developed and confront that with an aesthetic of science fiction and utopian architecture. I don't know how these batteries work. I don't even know if they work. People might say, “These batteries will work forever!” Do we believe in that or not? Or maybe, we just hope it works, fascinated by this promise.

I enjoy leaving the protection of an art space behind

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For me, the beauty of light is that it reminds me of things that come to life. Electricity brings a machine to life: when it blinks, it works, and that's when we begin to identify with it.

What is it like for you to show your work in the public space? What do you find valuable or important about that?

I like to show my work in a public space and enjoy leaving the protection of an art space behind me. Frames, protective walls, the white cube, or simply the fact that we call something an “art space” — all of this makes us handle objects carefully. It is a challenge for me to produce work outside. How does it enter into a dialogue or communicate with the place where it is being exhibited? What is it doing there?

How do you expect the audience to respond to the work? What kind of interaction do you think they're going to have with it?

The audience may consist of a few people who deliberately come to see work, but most people just walk by. I try to work with a research background, but that can also be understood by people who do not share this knowledge.

Your work was previously shown at Into Nature in Drenthe. How do you like to transfer your work to other locations?

The images were first exhibited in nature, and now they have moved to NDSM. That means they already have their scars — they've seen a lot. They come from their forest retreat, where they recharged in the shade of the trees, and now they're out in civilization. Already a little bit injured, a little bit dirty, and they're likely to get hurt even more in the near future, I hope. I wonder what they will look like in a month. Maybe it has some graffiti on it — I would really like that. The first location was a nature reserve, which was really beautiful and had forces like wind and rain at play. But at NDSM, there was not only bad weather, but also a carnival in the background, and people coming out of the bars were probably drunk. I'm really glad that my work is facing that.

The exhibition '(Come To) Light' can be visited free of charge at NDSM in the winter period 2021 - 2022, with different durations and dates per work.