Belgian artist Leon Vranken makes minimalist objects and installations that often toy with the spectator’s perception. Unlike many of his fellow artists and predecessors, he does not outsource his polished, machined-looking works, but insists on realising every piece himself with an extreme sense of detail and precision, hence touching on notions of craftsmanship – in terms of skill as well as concept.
DAMN°: You are trained as a landscape architect and you also studied carpentry. Were you interested in art during your studies?
Leon Vranken: No, not at all. I come from a family that was not art-minded. I think I went to a museum for the first time when I was in my 20s! After studying garden and landscape architecture, I didn’t feel like continuing with urbanism. Instead, I followed a course on in-situ art. I had thought it would be about dealing with public space, but in reality those studies were much larger in scope. At a given moment, I started making a sculpture – it all came very spontaneously. I had never thought of becoming an artist, but especially after the in-situ art training, I acquired a taste for it. I really love it. And there is nothing else I can do anyway. (laughs)
DAMN°: One can readily detect your carpentry training in your work. What about your background in landscape architecture?
LV: To me, the influence of my studies is very obvious. Landscape architecture is about dealing with space. I also made my first scale models then. Every time I make a new work, I make a scale model in order to get a better idea of space. I think both backgrounds are clearly reflected in my work.
DAMN°: The notion of craftsmanship is also very important in your practice. Unlike other conceptual artists, you do not outsource the practical aspects of the job. Do you make everything yourself?
LV: Yes, or at least in collaboration with somebody else. I want to witness the entire process from up close: from the concept to the final result. I find it very interesting to see how an idea in your head becomes a work of art. I would not like to outsource the work and just receive pictures of its evolution every now and then.
DAMN°: The installation The Travelling Riddle, presented at Stella Lohaus Gallery in 2009, is one of your most iconic works. Can you describe it?
LV: I made a corridor through which the visitors entered. The end of the corridor was blocked off by a wooden panel. People had to push on the panel in order to enter the gallery space. Once in, they realised they had shoved aside some of the objects that were standing in front of the panel. That assembly of objects was connected to a paintbrush. Every time somebody came in, the brush was pushed against the wall, adding a new layer of paint. The work was therefore a kind of a minimal collaboration with the audience; they participated in making it. I had made a scale model prior to this, with all the objects. Initially I had not aligned these different pieces, but in the model I saw that it didn't work. I then had the idea of building a corridor and putting all the objects at the end of it.
For me, it’s also the sort of piece that brings together all the things that are important in my practice. There is a reference to painting, to my love for materials and forms, to the expectations you create for the audience, etc. I do take the spectator into consideration as much as I can, which is reflected in this work.
DAMN°: That was also the case with your solo show at Z33 in Hasselt. You stripped the original walls, added extra railings, and made a hole in the floor through which a fountain spurted water up through the next floor. Did you want to play with the expectations of the visitors there as well?
LV: Yes, I sometimes like to do things that are not always visible at first but are still very present. In that way, the spectator will look more closely and ask himself what has been added and what was already there. For example, the entire ground floor was stripped to show only one intervention: the fountain. That was different from the first floor, where many works were exhibited. It created a nice contrast: a full and an empty room.
DAMN°: The fountain was basically an adaptation of a work you showed earlier in the Middelheim Open Air Sculpture Museum in Antwerp. What was your initial idea?
LV: The exhibition was called My Little Paradise (curated by Sara Weyns and Hans Op de Beeck). The theme was the paradise garden. With my training in mind, I thought of the paradise garden of the Middle Ages that consisted of a source or fountain located at the intersection of two lines forming a cross. I also liked the idea of being able to look at the fountain from above. A scaffolding structure is normally something very fixed, whereas here it encapsulated a movement, a kind of line. As if the fountain was enveloped in armour.
DAMN°: In your work, you deliberately choose for a restricted vocabulary of geometrical forms, such as circles, squares, or cones. These forms are part of a long tradition. How do you relate to that tradition?
LV: I like these basic forms. I think it’s pretty clear that I have a penchant for minimalism (laughs). But I try to add something to it. I am not sure whether the minimalists had a great sense of humour. Judging from their work, you would rather say they didn’t. I try to add another layer. I see it as a challenge to do something with something that has already been done and give it a new meaning.
DAMN°: Your work is very sculptural, tackling the medium’s basic characteristics of balance, gravity, the notion of the pedestal and the column...
LV: I am not a trained sculptor, but there are certain aspects of the medium I address. Like with the classical pedestal that I cut into pieces and then reassembled... When you go to a stonecutter to buy stone for making a sculpture, you also see those blocks of stone on slices of wood. I refer to that in Raised Elevation. But the piece also refers to a sculpture on a pedestal; in this case, the pedestal becomes the sculpture.
DAMN°: The contrast between mechanical, serialised production and handcrafted work is also recurring. You made a pallet by hand instead of simply using an industrially produced one. In Rule of Three you stacked three small self-made tables, although it might initially appear as if the tables were bought at IKEA.
LV: I often find objects in the street that I recreate. I made a work consisting of two chairs on top of each other. The upper one is upside down, resting on the second one. I constructed that chair twice and then made a sculpture from the two. The same goes for those tables. It is important to me that I make these chairs and tables myself. I just like making them. If I wouldn’t have felt like it, I wouldn’t have done it, but then it wouldn’t have resulted in a new work. In the process of making, new ideas sometimes come up. And although I am really not a fan of IKEA, these works are not a condemnation of IKEA, by the way. (laughs)
DAMN°: You are trained as a landscape architect and you also studied carpentry. Were you interested in art during your studies?
DAMN°: One can readily detect your carpentry training in your work. What about your background in landscape architecture?
DAMN°: The notion of craftsmanship is also very important in your practice. Unlike other conceptual artists, you do not outsource the practical aspects of the job. Do you make everything yourself?
DAMN°: The installation The Travelling Riddle, presented at Stella Lohaus Gallery in 2009, is one of your most iconic works. Can you describe it?
LV: I made a corridor through which the visitors entered. The end of the corridor was blocked off by a wooden panel. People had to push on the panel in order to enter the gallery space. Once in, they realised they had shoved aside some of the objects that were standing in front of the panel. That assembly of objects was connected to a paintbrush. Every time somebody came in, the brush was pushed against the wall, adding a new layer of paint. The work was therefore a kind of a minimal collaboration with the audience; they participated in making it. I had made a scale model prior to this, with all the objects. Initially I had not aligned these different pieces, but in the model I saw that it didn't work. I then had the idea of building a corridor and putting all the objects at the end of it.
For me, it’s also the sort of piece that brings together all the things that are important in my practice. There is a reference to painting, to my love for materials and forms, to the expectations you create for the audience, etc. I do take the spectator into consideration as much as I can, which is reflected in this work.
DAMN°: That was also the case with your solo show at Z33 in Hasselt. You stripped the original walls, added extra railings, and made a hole in the floor through which a fountain spurted water up through the next floor. Did you want to play with the expectations of the visitors there as well?
LV: Yes, I sometimes like to do things that are not always visible at first but are still very present. In that way, the spectator will look more closely and ask himself what has been added and what was already there. For example, the entire ground floor was stripped to show only one intervention: the fountain. That was different from the first floor, where many works were exhibited. It created a nice contrast: a full and an empty room.
DAMN°: The fountain was basically an adaptation of a work you showed earlier in the Middelheim Open Air Sculpture Museum in Antwerp. What was your initial idea?
LV: The exhibition was called My Little Paradise (curated by Sara Weyns and Hans Op de Beeck). The theme was the paradise garden. With my training in mind, I thought of the paradise garden of the Middle Ages that consisted of a source or fountain located at the intersection of two lines forming a cross. I also liked the idea of being able to look at the fountain from above. A scaffolding structure is normally something very fixed, whereas here it encapsulated a movement, a kind of line. As if the fountain was enveloped in armour.
DAMN°: In your work, you deliberately choose for a restricted vocabulary of geometrical forms, such as circles, squares, or cones. These forms are part of a long tradition. How do you relate to that tradition?
LV: I like these basic forms. I think it’s pretty clear that I have a penchant for minimalism (laughs). But I try to add something to it. I am not sure whether the minimalists had a great sense of humour. Judging from their work, you would rather say they didn’t. I try to add another layer. I see it as a challenge to do something with something that has already been done and give it a new meaning.
DAMN°: Your work is very sculptural, tackling the medium’s basic characteristics of balance, gravity, the notion of the pedestal and the column...
LV: I am not a trained sculptor, but there are certain aspects of the medium I address. Like with the classical pedestal that I cut into pieces and then reassembled... When you go to a stonecutter to buy stone for making a sculpture, you also see those blocks of stone on slices of wood. I refer to that in Raised Elevation. But the piece also refers to a sculpture on a pedestal; in this case, the pedestal becomes the sculpture.
DAMN°: The contrast between mechanical, serialised production and handcrafted work is also recurring. You made a pallet by hand instead of simply using an industrially produced one. In Rule of Three you stacked three small self-made tables, although it might initially appear as if the tables were bought at IKEA.
LV: I often find objects in the street that I recreate. I made a work consisting of two chairs on top of each other. The upper one is upside down, resting on the second one. I constructed that chair twice and then made a sculpture from the two. The same goes for those tables. It is important to me that I make these chairs and tables myself. I just like making them. If I wouldn’t have felt like it, I wouldn’t have done it, but then it wouldn’t have resulted in a new work. In the process of making, new ideas sometimes come up. And although I am really not a fan of IKEA, these works are not a condemnation of IKEA, by the way. (laughs)
