The less of me, the more of you
Maybe not at first.
Look again.
In many of them, something is missing. Sometimes it’s only a head. Only a body. An arm. A back. A leg. As if I’m gradually removing pieces of myself from the frame.
It wasn’t until much later that I realized this wasn’t a coincidence. My favorite self-portraits are almost always the ones that leave something out. A body without a head. A head without a body. Something like that.
Perhaps, without even realizing it, I’ve been guided by a single question: How much – or how little – of myself do I need to show in order to say something universal?
The more specifically I portray myself, the harder it becomes for the viewer to make the image their own. Sometimes you have to remove information to add meaning. Maybe that’s why I instinctively leave out anything that might keep someone from entering the photograph.
The less of me you see, the more room there is for you.
That may sound strange, but when I make a self-portrait, I’m rarely thinking about myself.
I’m thinking about an image.
A question.
A story.
A story that begins with me, but doesn’t have to be about me. (…)
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Gisteren was reeds een eerste dag vol gesprekken en verhalen. Omdat over grensoverschrijdend gedrag móet worden gepraat. Als je zelf slachtoffer bent op de Gentse Feesten ga dan naar het meldpunt tussen Steendam en de Vlasmarkt.
Vandaag en de volgende dagen kan je komen kijken naar werk van 
