Bendt Eyckermans
A young painter on transforming his generation and his surroundings into art.
Nederlandstalige versie
Date of interview: September 29, 2017
Estimated reading time: 13 minutes
Bendt Eyckermans (°1994) was born in Antwerp and graduated from its Royal Academy of fine arts as Master of Painting. He was raised in a creative family and from an early age on, with attending art-high school Sint-Lucas, the preparation for his current trajectory began. From a more graphic way of working, he transitioned to the more ‘classical’ art of painting when making the choice for the Academy of Antwerp. Yet Bendt’s surrealistic work is all but classical, since the painter’s ‘muse’ is his immediate environment and peers. With his alterations and intense use of color, he captures the ‘zeitgeist’ of his surroundings, the Generation Now.
In high contrast to the object of his work, the location where Bendt paints is a place where time has been standing still for the past decades: the former studio of his grandfather, where the last rays of summer sun are entering through the skylight. Especially the monumental gravestone that sculptor Lode Eyckermans created for himself, seems to catch most of the light. Lode shows off between two saucy women. “It was found to be a bit bombastic for a churchyard, but it suited his personality. He was a very extravagant, interesting figure.” It’s warm here now, but two weeks earlier the atmosphere in the studio, located in the Jewish neighbourhood of Antwerp, was quite different. After a day of heavy rainfall, the roof couldn’t protect the dozens of sculptures anymore and the studio was flooded with water. Luckily the old and new work of Bendt got away unharmed and on this September day we are guided through the impressive space that feeds his work. It’s no surprise that Bendt receives a lot of inspiration and energy from this spot. By working here, the painter literally surrounds himself with what he loves most: art.
Kusseneers Gallery : Bendt’s solo expo ‘The Clouds Have Gathered’ can be visited until the 25th of November at Kusseneers Gallery.
Has the studio been altered much since your grandfather worked here?
When my grandfather moved in, around the 40s, he shared the studio with five, six other painters. After a while they moved away and from then on he started filling the studio with art of himself as well as work of others that he had collected. That’s why it’s still pretty full. Personally, I don’t feel the need to change it or display my own art here. For me, this is a sort of time capsule that has been preserved and I find that very charming.
A while back you did an interview for the ‘accessible art fair’ and told them that it’s a big honour to work in the studio of your grandfather. Do you find it a burden sometimes as well, to walk in his ‘footsteps’?
No, not at all. Maybe I’d find the search for my own style more difficult if I were a sculptor as well, but up till now I haven’t experienced any kind of problems with it.
My father told me recently: “you’re actually a sculptor, but you just don’t realise it yet.”
And would you ever consider sculpting yourself?
My father told me recently: “you’re actually a sculptor, but you just don’t realise it yet.” So maybe someday (laughs).
Is there a certain routine connected to your day at the studio?
I don’t have any specific ‘rituals.’ What needs to happen is that I arrive here by 8 in the morning and I leave around 8 in the evening for dinner. That sounds like a long day, but it doesn’t feel like that at all since there’s nothing I’d rather do. Usually I look at the time and hours have passed without me even noticing it.
Do you work with music?
Sometimes. Music can give energy and work very motivating but I also really appreciate the peace and quiet and enjoy working on my own. If I do play something, it varies in genre, depending on the time. What I also enjoy listening to, are podcasts, talk shows, something informative to learn from. I listen to BBC’s ‘Witness Archive’ programs, as well as their ‘Arts & Ideas’ and film podcasts. Pretty much everything the BBC broadcasts.
You spend quite a lot of time alone in your studio. Does it get lonely?
It’s much better that I’m here on my own if I really want to work and I also enjoy that. I never have to feel lonely since I have friends stopping by here almost every day. They spend some time on the couch but the result is that I’m too distracted. It’s fun, but then I’m really not doing what I’m supposed to be doing here (laughs).
Do you also have days that the work doesn’t progress?
You have hard days and better days. That’s normal, everyone has those and I’m no exception to it. Usually, I leave the studio to go outside and try to meet with some friends. I have the feeling that if I stay here at a moment like that, I continue doing the same thing over and over again. If I leave the studio for a new environment, see new things, talk to people or simply watch a movie, it offers me new ideas.
Your immediate environment plays an important role in your work. Do they find it comfortable to serve as a sort of ‘inspiration’ or have people complained about it?
No, my friends feel honoured and Gaëlle, my girlfriend, also enjoys that I can paint her.
It would be great if in a couple of decades people could still relate to what I have made.
Your immediate environment is also your generation. Is there anything specific that you’d like to highlight in your work of this generation?
For the exposition that I’m currently working on, I’m mostly focusing on the pessimism of my environment and their dark outlook on the future. That is something I’m working with. It’s definitely not the only thing I want to capture, but I do like to create a sort of atmosphere, a vibe.
Is it important to you that your work stays intact for future generations?
Of course, I’d really like it if in a hundred years time a new audience looks at my work and finds a completely new meaning in it, that they start to think about what the work could mean for them. It would be great if in a couple of decades people could still relate to what I have made.
And what is the feeling that you want to carry forward to the audience?
I just hope that they feel the love that I have for my craft. I don’t aim for a specific emotion that they ‘must’ feel, I just hope that they can dwell on the image and think about it. That they fantasize for themselves and start adding reasons to why this painting was made in this particular way. There are concrete reasons why the paintings look the way they do, but I don’t find that important. I find it important that people can give their own meaning to them.
So it’s not that your work absolutely needs to transfer a message to the audience?
I don’t like to talk about my own paintings that much and don’t feel the need to forward a specific message. If other painters want to do that, it can be amazing, but it’s not my goal. My work shows who I am and I’m not looking for a narrative, I’d rather capture a form of visual poetry.
Are there artists that you admire?
Yes, but not really painters. Mostly, I look up to film directors like Michael Mann and Michael Scorcese. When I was young I always wanted to make films. Now I’m sort of my own DOP, cameraman, screenwriter, set-designer, and director through my paintings. They might be stills instead of moving images, but that’s the only difference. It’s not that I don’t find inspiration in pictorial art, but that’s still different than really looking up to someone. I have to admit that I experience that feeling more often with people such as Mann and Scorsese.
Recently someone also told me that I work like a printer: I don’t work from zone to zone; I work from corner to corner.
How do you start after you’ve decided what you’re going to paint?
I start off with a black and white picture, but the elements in that picture are more anchor points that I can revert to. Sometimes, when I have a composition in my head that looks interesting, I’ll ask my friends, people that I know to pose for me. But it’s not my intention to make the result look like the actual image. I try to give it my own spin, but once and awhile I’ll take a glimpse at the picture to see how something is formed and then I’ll make my own version of it. It wouldn’t satisfy me personally if I simply copied a photo. I want to make it interesting to look at in my own way. Often I find myself looking at a specific element and then I imagine what it would look like if it were enhanced for example. The result contains somewhat surrealistic alterations, which have grown naturally as well as been chosen deliberately.
Technically I start with a sketch of the drawing so that I have a sense of where everything is supposed to be situated. The old masters did it like that too: first a drawing in gray scale and afterwards they painted on top of it with paint. I think that it might be the academic part of me that makes me do it like that. Recently someone also told me that I work like a printer: I don’t work from zone to zone; I work from corner to corner.
Does that academic part, for instance your education at the academy of Antwerp, have a big influence on your work?
Technically? Yes, definitely. Stylistically? Absolutely not. If you take a look at the class that I graduated with and our work throughout the years, I was the only one that painted like this. There was no one that really chose to paint figuratively. All my teachers were very free in their vision of what we ‘must’ do. It’s not because you’re a student at the academy, that you’re pushed in a certain direction opposed to what people often think.
Did they hammer a lot on technique or more on freedom of expression?
They didn’t hammer, but of course you learn it quite elaborately and I find that very important too. As an artist you must know what you’re dealing with. You must know your trade and from there on you can start free styling.
I’m insecure about my work, but that’s normal.
Do you always have a specific idea of what the work is going to look like or does it happen that the work starts to lead a life of its own?
I always have an idea when I start, but it never becomes exactly what I had in mind and that’s ok.
Is there a favorite work of yourself of which you think: if the studio is set on fire right now, then I’ll go running with this one?
(laughs) No, not really. I let go of my work when I’m finished, but maybe in a few years time I’ll look back on it and think: yes, this work I consider my favorite of that period. It’s not that I can’t be satisfied with the result, but it only lasts a couple of seconds and then I already have to put the painting somewhere else. I find myself not being able to look at it anymore because I’m so tired of it already. I’m insecure about my work, but that’s normal.
You’re quite critical of yourself, are you sensitive for other people’s criticism?
I’m only annoyed by critique that I can’t do anything with. If it’s constructive, if I can learn from it, critique can be a wonderful thing. But if it’s just a negative opinion, then I can’t grow from that.
When did you realise you wanted to become a painter?
It was a relatively impulsive decision. After the sixth year Sint-Lucas, I graduated and realised I couldn’t paint at all. I didn’t know how to handle color. I had a pretty graphic education and worked mostly in black and white. Then I entered the admission exam for the academy, got in and two difficult years ensued but I found my way eventually.
How does painting influence your mood?
When it fails, I’m unbelievably bad tempered and you can’t have a decent conversation with me. But when I succeed, I’m happy, optimistic. It satisfies me enormously and I can’t live without it. If I don’t paint for a couple of days, my girlfriend notices it immediately and she’ll say: “Go to your studio, you’re annoying.”
Are you attracted to people who are also part of the creative field?
I have a pretty creative friend group, but that was definitely not a conscious decision. It is pleasant to be able to stimulate each other. I have a friend for example whose studio is close by and sometimes we meet halfway to show each other new work. We can discuss in a constructive way about what we like or dislike about each other’s work and at the same time we can stimulate the other to continue working.
The best compliment that I received recently was from a friend who told me that because of me he started loving Antwerp again.
Your studio is located in Antwerp, you live nearby and Antwerp is a recurrent subject of your work. Is that a conscious decision?
I often find that the people who live here forget how beautiful it is. There’s a hate/love relationship that I sometimes experience myself. But I try to incorporate what I see, the beauty, in my work. The best compliment that I received recently was from a friend who told me that because of me he started loving Antwerp again.
Antwerp is important in my work because this is the city I live in and the beauty of it surrounds me daily. But not just Antwerp, all of Belgium has something very particular that I find very stimulating to work with and that offers me a lot of inspiration. If I were to live somewhere else, I think that a little bit of my heart would remain here forever.
A while back some work of you appeared on fabric. Are there other things, apart from painting on canvas that you would like to use your art for?
Those were forty handmade creations, but I’ve stopped doing that for now. Maybe in the future I’ll pick it up again but for now I don’t want to become a one-man shop. I mainly want to focus on oil paint on linen, making interesting paintings and discovering the possibilities I have with that.
Is there a profession of which you think: if I were to quit as an artist, I’d give this a shot? Something completely different?
Cook maybe? Or, like I said earlier, film director but maybe that would be too close to the arts. I think I’d become very unhappy if I couldn’t be of any more meaning to the art scene. If I have to, financially, of course I’d be willing to do something completely different but on the side I would always infuse my life with something more creative.
At the moment you’re preparing your solo exposition that will open on the 25th of October in the Kusseneers Gallery in Brussels, do you have other plans after that?
After the exposition the future is still undecided but I’m not concerned with that. I want to focus on the now and prepare the best possible exposition. What happens after that, we’ll see.
Interview & English translation: Tyche Beyens
Photography: Maartin Warpy