About 

A series of 3 lino prints representing fishes. Postcard format (A6)
Limited edition. Contact me if you are interested in purchasing some. 

A poster composed around two anagrams, Tedious and Outside.
Printed and design by myself :), with the help of Q Hisashi Shibata.
Screen-print, 4 layers, 70 x 100 cm, edition of 25.
Get in touch if you would like to get a copy! 

TAkEAwAY is a book written, edited and published by the Rietveld Academie’s graphic design department during the first national lockdown.

In my 32 p. contribution, eros until sore, I approach writing as an erotic act, using the letters of eros as a starting point. I reshuffle, add and subtract letters from this word in all sorts of combinations in the hope of exhausting its meaning, or of generating some new. Following my desire to capture what resists to language, I explore the tensions between speech and the body in an organic collection of diary entries, scores, mythologic references, poetry, and linocut experiments.

In these four short movies, cultic and occult sounds are juxtaposed with branded 3D symbols of eros. My voice becomes a new format for exploring the links between language and the body. Language is a weapon, captured in its double-edged capacity to heal and wound.

Prelude to eros, 01:00 min.
rosEROSe, 00:35 min.
Like a wind rose, 00: 40 min.
A virus with no cure, 00:28 min. 

The installation is a translation of the visual and textual content of my contribution eros until sore in a three dimensional space. 

Metal tables (90 cm high, 35 cm). Laser-cut wooden letters (12 cm high). 3D-printed sculpture (25 cm high).

An immersive voyage through the gemology of realities with Chloé Valorso's Spirit Stones. Open your eyes, hearts and gates to Disco Shamanism, charge your crystals and your laptop, join the liminal space.

The soundscape was created in collaboration with Chloé Valorso and Hinako Omori, premiering at NYC Jewelry Week 2020.

Chloé Valorso: iwasborninazoo.com
Hinako Omori: www.hinakoomori.com
NYC Jewelry Week: nycjewelryweek.com

My essay is a quest for physical traces within written language. This search continuously draws my focus to my own body as I write, so that at times I end up overwhelmed by swarms of impressions that both stifle and enrich my writing process. The trying introspection clears up the question underlying my prime interest: I am indirectly asking if the endeavour of writing liberates or hinders the body.

“Unlike silence, this deadly place in which women have learnt to lock themselves, breath bears life in a motherly way.”  (p. 37)

This publication takes away from the orange (tattooed by © Wieke Willemsen) its most precious attribute: color.

In this way, it survives the ruthless ravages of time.

This loss is thus a gain. This strange fruit had already lost part of its shine anyway.

Despite its coat of resin, its skin is rather pale.

Not only is the orange turnt blue, but it also turns on itself. 

A rotating blue sphere, whose form echoes that of a planet. 

Paul Éluard once wrote that "the Earth is blue like an orange".

This sentence remains in your head like a blueprint.

It gets tattooed in your mind.

Alike the orange peel, and alike these cyanotypes, tattooed with sunlight. 

As the paper gets soaked in cold water, winding patterns appear on its porcelain-like surface.

The result is bygone.

That might be caused by blue, that distant color that makes all things hermetic and elusive. 

This feeling of outer space is highlighted by that of timelessness.

This publication has no beginning nor end, it revolves on itself.

Reedition of La guerre au Luxembourg (1916), the first poem that Blaise Cendrars wrote after his right arm amputation at fight. It depicts children playing war in the “Jardin du Luxembourg”.

I copy Cendrars’ poem with my left hand. My clumsy writing holds the ambiguity on which the text is built: a hilly roughness and a childlike allure. The process feels playful and painful all at once. It gives me more time to feel the load of each word, as they unravel at a slower pace. The basics of communication seem reassessed, estranged. I become aware that being hindered by your body implies a reorganization of the self.

The British royal family is portrayed through rings, drinks, gossips, flowers and dogs in this publication. The selection of images is precise: each photograph is carefully cropped, as if zooming in was bringing me closer to these iconic characters. Every detail is a symbol of their rank: even hands manners are patently infused with nobility. The royals resist anonymity. The publication ends up on a spread showing a little girl, the only one whose face can be seen. For she is the only one that does not lie, that can still be in the world instead of appearing in it.

Cracks found in Amsterdam’s walls and turned into a font. 

"I notice small cracks in the walls of the stairwell of my flat. I take a closer look and realize that some forms strangely evoke letter shapes. I can see an O, an I, an X… All these marks, born from accidents, can be read as typographic signs. My mind starts to instill meaning in these meaningless defects. Language subjugates and distorts my gaze. Walls become the epicenter of communication."