Words for the opening of the last exhibition of 2015 in ruimteCAESUUR, Words on Giel Louws, and especially on his work. I met Giel for the first time in 1999. We took part in a special exhibition; Boeken Boven Water (Discovered Books). In this show Zeeuwse artists’ books were presented. I knew all participants, except for one; Giel Louws. After the opening in the Zeeuwse Library, the participants were invited to dinner. By chance Giel and others joint the same table as me. I saw a Young fellow, observing his surroundings with an open mind. Curious, modest, maybe a little shy, and observant. I am leaving out what we talked about. It was a pleasant encounter with a starting artist, fresh from art-school. What surprised me: he returned to his roots. And still he is not afraid to show that, and sometimes dresses in a jacket worn by previous generations. Giel is a genuine artist from Zeeland, not in a narrow sense, but with a worldly vision, in the right meaning of the word. His work even transcends that, by telling universal stories full of wonder. In the past 15 years the work of Giel developed enormously. Parallel to his thinking, his way of discussing, assaying and discovering. I visit Giel regularly in his studio. When he is present his door is always opened a little. About 30 cm's. Enough to pass without being seen, but inviting enough to step in. A lot happened in that space. Giel established himself as a painter. The painter that for instance made self-portraits. I saw large works come to existence on the wall. He depicted myths, symbols, and old messages. Bearing history and tradition into new forms of expression. I saw huge animals there with antlers, sometimes struck by lights from above. Works plastered with cut-out roses. Big stories in big gestures! Paint was applied in broad gestures and enormous energy. Elements were pasted in, and over-painted. Layer upon layer. Even the walls beside the canvas took their share. Work upon work. Series arose. Not as a goal on itself. It was a process witnessing a search without knowing its ending. The series of hare’s. Hare’s in all shapes and forms. The hare, the soloist. On the run or in his lair, running or vanishing in the landscape. And the walls became a big mess. So did the floor. And then there was a turning point, no, a turning-process. Giel coated his studio. The smeared edges, the borders of pursued symbolism and mythology were covered. Everything became white. Walls, floor, everything. He started new series. Small sizes. A new quest. Series of portraits. Eyes shut. First I thought they were death-masks. But the portraits were not deathlike, they were to colourful. Dreamers they were. Giel dreaming. They were presented on the new white walls. Side by side on a lattice. A slat resting on two screws.

And then it speeds up. The portraits are bundled. Bound by a string to an object. An object with things unseen. Nothing left. Remember; NOTHING. Briefly I saw birds. But they have flown. Disappeared into thin air. And with them figuration disappeared. Slats and beams on two screws is now a balancing act. Acrobatics from circles and changing colours. Précised proportions searching for their mutual placement. Potentially moved. Even as a viewer I could easily intervene. Even provoked to do so. All of a sudden the slat sticks out of the wall as a flagpole. Carrying the work as a flag. Or am I mistaken. Is the flagpole part of the artwork ? All sorts of materials get access to his work. Dried out paint from his palette is pried out en re-used. He looks around, annexes things, allows them in his creation. Giel takes old works out of his storage, and sees what his enthusiastic painters-urge caused. Works are dismantled. Reduced to essential elements. New life is possible. A new creation. The painter becomes a tinker. Fools around with stuff. Sees what happens in his hands. Rams in a staple, binds with a string. Asks himself if it really became something. If it could be done otherwise, or if it should be done otherwise. Hangs it or puts it down. It is a struggle with materials hoping this struggle becomes part of his stories. That’s what makes the work vulnerable. But it is internally supported. Literally. Born from the lattice with the two screws the supports are essential parts and pop-up in many different appearances. It is no longer a question if there is a support, or what the support is. It is a unity. A few months ago I entered his studio. Giel was cutting a shoebox. In the side a little door was cut, flanked by two large windows. A model for Art space Caesuur. I am making plans for an exhibition, Giel said. Look, the upright wall for hanging works is coming down. It will become part of my work. Part of the support. A week later the supporting table stood real size in his studio. After that I witnessed the process which result is shown here. I don’t think Giel made it in seven days but I saw a creator building his paradise. And sometimes he saw it was good. Many times there was hesitation, knowing there are other ways to do things. Decisive in the end: this is how I want it, so it shall be. More objects appeared on the large surface. And the proportions amongst them became more important. An installation grew. As I entered the studio I franticly looked around. What changed, what was added. What does that mean ? Was it there last time ? Did it move ? Giel stood there with questioning eyes. Sometimes I stated what I saw, what an element made me think of. A twinkle in his eyes expressed: yes, he sees it. But other times he talked about his object or find. I was thrown back into my school bench. I thought myself a loser because I did not get it, but left the studio enriched.

And Giel’s garden grew. It is what you see, and sometimes it’s not. Certainty is abandoned. And walking through his garden, you are certainly bewildered. A painter interfering with elements that were accessory before. He tells a new story. A story you will not hear right now and sometimes just looking is enough. Is that piece of stone actually stone, and this wood actual wood ? You would like to touch the objects to check your vision. Don’t ! The possibility is real that the whole story collapses. The works are fragile and the connections vulnerable. That’s what makes the underlying stories so exciting. On the invitation you can read next sentence: Nothing exists that does not touch something else. A sentence of Jeroen Brouwers. Last week he won a literary award. He showed how he writes his books. With what materials. Used packaging-materials. Upon what is doomed to be destroyed he creates his art. His stories. Giel has the same attitude. He tells his stories and creates with what is doomed to disappear. Nothing exists that does not touch something else. That same sentence I came across De stilte van het licht (The silence of the light) by Joost Zwagerman. It is in the crucial chapter: Nothing, looking at nothing. You should re-read that chapter and put it next to the installation Drager. Joost stepped out to soon, he should have seen Giel’s work. This would be a great ending of a story. But at the end of the genesis of Drager another element appeared. A branch. Grafted in the middle of the garden. A tree. In an old story men came after that. Giel shifts reality and remakes artspaceCAESUUR into one large work of art. Caesuur in a process of twenty years in which many contributed. Caesuur as a remarkable place of beauty in Middelburg’s society. Ko de Jonge Saturday November 11 2015