Ping Pong

During the first ses­si­on of The Sat­ur­days a 50×50 cm pa­inting was de­vel­oped that remin­ded me of a frag­ment of a ping­pong ta­ble. The so­cial de­sign of this game litte­ral­ly of­fered me a play­ground both rela­ting to the con­tent as vis­u­al­ly, where­in I could sea­rch in a vis­u­al man­ner. It conta­ined a space where­in my i­deas ab­out the a­rt of pa­inting ex­tend­ed them­selves. This is be­cause I can still vis­u­al­ly face the chal­lenge with Modernism, when spo­ken of de­p­th and sur­face, but where it still ex­ists on the same lev­el as da­ily life. The a­rt of pa­inting sud­den­ly was some­thing that could­n’t be brought to a log­i­cal con­clu­si­on, not end­ing and turned inwa­rd, but rath­er some­thing that al­ways co-ex­ists with some­thing else next to it.

For me, this in­stal­la­ti­on is a meet­ing point where dif­fer­ent dis­ciplines come to­geth­er (the a­rt of pa­inting, dra­wing, sculp­ture, and a­rchitecture). I see the who­le as a three-di­men­si­onal pa­inting that co­ope­rates with the space on a rhytmic lev­el. Most ma­teri­als a­re bought at the ha­rdwa­re store, exce­p­t the two pieces of playwo­od on the flo­or. These a­re left­o­ver pieces I found on the street in Brussels. There­up­on I put a cut out piece of lac­quered fi­breglass wall­pa­per.