19.02.26 – 02.03.26, #189 Lâle Lootens, Washing The Soul

Beste Jack,

We kennen elkaar niet. Dit is een uitnodiging. Een instructieboekje. Zo een die je tegenkomt bij je nieuwe aangekochte monopolydoos. Iets wat je niet opent omdat je allang de spelregels, of je eigen versie kent. Beste Jack, ik vraag: wil jij met mij dit spel spelen?

Het spel van het onwetende, van vrijheid en van ontdekking.

Ik speel niet graag alleen. Lees jij de instructies?

Dus Jack, wat is spel voor jou? Speel jij wel volgens de spelregels? Of ga je mee met mij de spelregels overtreden. Dan kunnen we op het einde samen onze onverdiende overwinning vieren. Je moet wel weten, wie graag de regels breekt, botst natuurlijk wel op muren, want valspelers worden uiteindelijk altijd uitgesloten.

Groetjes

Launch of the first official issue of the post porn magazine, CUNTISH MAGAZINE

Cuntish Magazine is a sexual and political publication, edited and designed by master student Inès De Laender.

Cuntish Magazine is part of a research into the wide movement of post-pornography. Instead of censoring sexual imagery, it could be reclaimed and reimagined — forming a political stance on the body, sex(uality), gender and image, resisting normative representations. It aims for another way of producing pleasure through looking, creating a counteraction to mainstream internet-porn culture.

In collaboration with experimental publisher copyshop— and bookstore Out of Stock

Curated by Nora Franco

A scenography of memories

This place refers to a space beyond itself

A space that no longer exists as it once did

This is how I remember it

At least, I think it is

This is a desperate attempt to hold on

Onto something temporary

keep writing

keep drawing

And above all, to keep dreaming

Of how everything once looked

Until I can no longer distinguish

What is still real

And what I have imagined

But does that still matter?

A memory is temporary. They fade, they deform and eventually, they disappear. We cannot perceive or recall time as merely a physical dimension, but only through its traces, places, images, and  events. 

We remember through space, especially through the intimacy of the house. To remember is to dream; to dream is to create memory. In trying to translate this, we encounter limits. Walls, details, and sharpness cannot contain the multidimensionality of memory. Incompleteness and fragmentation hold a suggestive, emotional power. They force us toward memory and imagination. Shadows, as reductions, leave space to complete what is missing. 

Within this, I question textile as a material for scenography. Rather than filling space, I explore how it can expand through shadow, transparency, and reflection, existing beyond its physical form. 

As a costly and temporary medium, textile calls for adaptability rather than fixed, site-specific design. Atmosphere emerges not from covering a space, but from engaging with it, working in relation to what is already there.

In this project, scenography is simply a space that refers to a place outside itself. It does so without imitating it, without creating an exact copy. The opportunity to fantasize is stronger than the realistic image.

RANDVOORWAARDE is a collaboration between Margaux De Pauw and Charlotte Bracke.

Together, they explore the role of fire extinguishers within an exhibition space and how they can relate to paintings without being perceived as a distraction. Rather than ignoring the fire extinguisher, Charlotte aims to draw attention to it. We are all familiar with the accompanying pictograms, but they often disappear from view until danger threatens.

In this exhibition, they bring the fire extinguisher, pictogram and painting together. What is normally ignored becomes a playful interaction here. For perhaps the fire extinguisher is the most successful object in the art world: it hangs in every museum.

‘Have you ever heard a nightingale scream?’, tells the story of Philomela, one of the many women in Greek mythology whose voice has been silenced. Through audio works, Anne Rosa Lut explores how women, just like songbirds, have altered their voice in order to be heard within a patriarchal society filled with noise.

Frilly Blouse Syndrome takes its cue from Linda Nochlin’s essay Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists? (1971), and examines the representation and visibility of women within art history.

Taking Rosa Bonheur as a starting point, we encounter a 19th-century female artist who did not so much find her place as take it — and then simply stayed there.

On February 11, starting at 20:00, we will celebrate the construction and launch of the KopieKar in Het Paviljoen!

That same day, we cordially invite everyone to our first print workshop, from 15:00 to 18:00. Everyone is welcome: to print, to try out the tools, or just to come and watch.

Participants are encouraged to bring their own anti-tools: unconventional tools (nothing is too strange!) that we can use to print and experiment together.

The results of this first meeting will be exhibited and celebrated in the evening (with free drinks!).

The Kopiekar is a mobile meeting place and workshop where exchange is stimulated through alternative printing techniques. The cart is a small printing studio: a portable collection of tools and materials. Its mobile nature creates an unpredictable dialogue with the immediate environment.

The focus is on collective creation and learning around so-called anti-tools: unpredictable, playful and unconventional tools that invite experimentation rather than efficiency. These tools influence not only the creative process, but also the content and form of the resulting printed matter.

The concept of the Kopiekar is rooted in the idea of commonism, where joint management and shared use of resources are central. This principle is reflected in the way the collection is structured. Tools and materials from personal collections are loaned out and thus made temporarily available to a wider audience. These sustainable resources form the core of the ever-changing collection. Non-sustainable materials, such as paper and ink, are replenished through a system of free contributions.

The collection is activated during gatherings: meetings in which makers are invited to bring an anti-tool, introduce it and share their working methods. Participants then explore this tool collectively by experimenting with it and making prints together. The outcome of each gathering is influenced by three factors: the tool, the chosen theme and the location of the KopieKar. Each gathering results in a series of jointly (re)produced prints.

In addition to the gatherings, the Kopiekar organises open studio days. During these walk-in moments, the workshop is accessible to anyone who wants to use the printing techniques available. In this way, the Kopiekar becomes a mobile hub that opens up resources and knowledge to people who do not have access to them themselves. Outside these fixed times, the Kopiekar can also be used on request for collaborations and projects. Each (anti-)tool will be included in an inventory so that people know which materials are available at any given time. For accessible use, all tools will be accompanied by a logbook in which previous applications and material composition are noted.

In this way, the Kopiekar aims to be a place of exchange between makers, tools and knowledge. Through encounters, shared ownership and collective experimentation, the Kopiekar contributes to the democratisation of printing techniques and the revaluation of making as a collaborative process.