CURRENT exhibition

Living Within Walls

From May 4th to May 18th, six people from Beeld & Taal, Tamar, Francine, Wietske, Meike, Menno and Teun spent time in the capital of Europe. If you think about today's movements in Europe, or the European Union, you might think about debt, unrest, refugees, borders.
When you want to investigate these things, you must go to the place where they are concentrated and multiplied by twenty. Athens as the capital of modern Europe, and at the same time the originator of western democracy, twenty five hundred years ago.

For two weeks, which is not a long time, we tried to find out what it is like to live within walls: the walls of Fort Europe and those who dare to cross them, physical walls made out of bricks, metaphorical walls which limit your way of expression.

During the first week in Athens, each of us went their own way, exploring walls in a less or more engaged manner, but always with Athens as a centre source of inspiration. In the second week we brought our work together in a gallery in the most vibrant neighbourhood of Athens, Exarcheia. The physical exhibition "Living Within Walls" opened on Saturday May 13th and stayed open for four days, for a mostly Greek audience.

Now we bring the work to a wider audience, by making an exhibition which is not constrained within walls, available to anyone with a working internet connection. The website bent.rietveldacademie.nl is more of a digital space than a website like you would expect. You can wander around, horizontally and vertically, you can get lost and miss things.

The online space will be up for one month, after which bent.rietveldacademie.nl will keep existing, offering new work from Beeld & Taal, every time curated and redisigned by someone from the department. If you subscribe to the newsletter, you will receive an email every time the website is renewed.

ABOUT bent

We are Beeld & Taal students at the Gerrit Rietveld Academie Amsterdam.
Every month, in this space, one of us curates an exhibition consisting of the works of our group.

Hava Ozbas
Meike Legêne
Tamar Berends
Teun Grondman
Wietske Joan

Sign up for our newsletter and receive our monthly invitation for a new exhibition.

Upcoming curator(s):
Hava Ozbas - March, 2018 
Tamar Berends - April, 2018
Wietske Joan - May, 2018
Meike Legêne - June, 2018 
Teun Grondman - July, 2018 
All ( Augustus - September 2018 )

Contact

OTHER exhibitions

March

March is all about growth!
While everything in nature naturally changes, humans are forced by the phenomenon of free will to choose whether they like to change themselves in order to transform.
But what is required to become what we want to be? 

The Transformation exhibition does not answer a specific question. 
Instead it shows a vision on the subject itself. 

Definition of 'transformation'
/ˌtransfəˈmeɪʃ(ə)n,ˌtrɑːnsfəˈmeɪʃ(ə)n,ˌtranzfəˈmeɪʃ(ə)n,ˌtrɑːnzfəˈmeɪʃ(ə)n/

'' 1.    a marked change in form, nature, or appearance.
   2.    (mathematics logic) a process by which one figure, expression,  or function is converted into another one of  similar value. ''

The following artists participated: 
- Tamar Berends
- Teun Grondman
- Wietske Joan
- Meike Legêne 
- Hava Ozbas

This exhibition has been currated by Hava Ozbas.
Emailadress: hava.ozbas@rietveldacademie.nl  

Thank you for visiting ! 
 



 

March

juli

Time is just going on and on, the weather does its own thing, and past events keep running away from us.

The July exhibition is about memory.

juli

Living Within Walls

From May 4th to May 18th, six people from Beeld & Taal, Tamar, Francine, Wietske, Meike, Menno and Teun spent time in the capital of Europe. If you think about today's movements in Europe, or the European Union, you might think about debt, unrest, refugees, borders.
When you want to investigate these things, you must go to the place where they are concentrated and multiplied by twenty. Athens as the capital of modern Europe, and at the same time the originator of western democracy, twenty five hundred years ago.

For two weeks, which is not a long time, we tried to find out what it is like to live within walls: the walls of Fort Europe and those who dare to cross them, physical walls made out of bricks, metaphorical walls which limit your way of expression.

During the first week in Athens, each of us went their own way, exploring walls in a less or more engaged manner, but always with Athens as a centre source of inspiration. In the second week we brought our work together in a gallery in the most vibrant neighbourhood of Athens, Exarcheia. The physical exhibition "Living Within Walls" opened on Saturday May 13th and stayed open for four days, for a mostly Greek audience.

Now we bring the work to a wider audience, by making an exhibition which is not constrained within walls, available to anyone with a working internet connection. The website bent.rietveldacademie.nl is more of a digital space than a website like you would expect. You can wander around, horizontally and vertically, you can get lost and miss things.

The online space will be up for one month, after which bent.rietveldacademie.nl will keep existing, offering new work from Beeld & Taal, every time curated and redisigned by someone from the department. If you subscribe to the newsletter, you will receive an email every time the website is renewed.

Living Within Walls
MOEDER PARIKA

Plotseling realiseer ik mij dat er al een tijdje een man naast mij loopt. Het is een man in een slangenleren pak.
Ik had het eigenlijk al zeker een kwartier in de gaten, maar ik was me er niet werkelijk bewust van was geworden.
Hij wandelt heel rustig naast me, alsof het de normaalste zaak van de wereld is om in de drukte van de stad gezellig samen met iemand op te wandelen.

Ik besluit me aan hem voor te stellen.
“Hallo. Ik ben Francine”

“Oke” zegt hij.

Ik wachtte af tot hij zichzelf ook voor zou gaan stellen.
Ne enkele minuten stilte realiseerde ik mij dat dit niet gaat gebeuren.

Ik vraag hem wat het interessantste verhaal was dat hij ooit had gehoord.

Zonder te hoeven denken, begint hij te vertellen over een vrouw met een gave.
Ze kan leven van leegte.
Iedere dag eet ze niets anders dan leegte.
Als je een gat hebt in je sok had je laat haar er even aan knabbelen, is je sok weer heel.
Als je iemand vreselijk mist, knabbelt ze aan je gemis, en staat de persoon weer voor je.
Uiteindelijk stierf ze vanwege een pijnlijk gat in haar maag.

Ik ben zo verrast door dit verhaal, dat ik niet weet wat ik moet zeggen.
Ik graai in mijn tas om te kijken of er misschien iets inzat dat hem zo zou kunnen verheugen als dat zijn verhaal mij had verheugd.
Het enige dat ik bij me heb, is een aantekeningenboekje met een briefje van vijftig erin.

Ik rijk het hem het briefje van vijftig wat vertwijfeld aan.
Dan valt mijn oog op de groentekraam waar we op dat moment langs lopen.
Ik bedenk me dat ik liever een stuk fruit of groente voor hem had gekocht inplaats van hem vijftig te geven. Maar het geld hing al in de lucht.
In de hoop dat hij het geld niet aanneemt en ik alsnog een stuk fruit voor hem kan kopen, houd ik toch staande bij de groentekraam.

De man kijkt me aan met een grote warme glimlach. Hij maakt geen aanstalte om het uit mijn hand geld te pakken. Hij staat voor me met een uiterst neutrale gezichtsuitdrukking,
Zonder zijn blik van mijn gezicht af te wenden, brengt hij zijn hand naar achteren, naar de groentekraam.
Eerst tast hij langs de komkommers, dan langs de aubergines en dan grijpt hij een paprika beet.
Hij legt hem met een plof in mijn hand.
Dezelfde hand als waarin mijn vijftig euro nog lag.
Hij trekt nog even triomfantelijk zijn wenkbrauwen omhoog en beent gehaast weg.

Ik blijf voor de groentewinkel staan met de paprika in mijn hand.

Ik heb het gevoel alsof ik een raadsel op moet lossen. Ik probeer een link te leggen tussen het verhaal dat de man vertelde en de paprika.
Ik probeer mij voor te stellen er zou verschijnen als de vrouw uit het verhaal de holte uit de paprika op zou eten?
Een paprika is gevuld met leegte, maar het is geen leegte die is ontstaan door een gebrek.
Het is een leegte die is ontstaan omdat er iets nieuws is gegroeid. De lucht in de paprika is uitgeademd door de parika zelf; het is pasgeboren lucht.
Eigenlijk heeft de paprika een leegte gebaard.
Iedere paprika is de moeder van een kleine leegte.
Misschien is het geen leegte, maar een holte.
Een gevulde holte; een volte.

Met mijn nagel maak ik een gaatje in de paprika en stop mijn neus in het gat.
Ik adem heel diep in, leg de paprika terug, kijk of de groenteman niks heeft gezien en loop snel weg.

Nog nooit heb ik zo lang mijn adem ingehouden.

Athens, let me exotisize you








Zwangere stad

In every revolution somebody needs to clean the toilet





Searching refugees

Refugee Plaza
After refugees have finally found a place to situate themselves for a while, hopefully, living in a semi-safe and perspective place. There will be people against them for being there. They might not know if they want to be there. People will support them as well, wanting to help and others will want to understand them.
Even when accepted in a society; they are still put in a box. They’re stuck with an image people have of them. You can not nót have an opinion about refugees.
In some places they might get overwhelmed by all those interested. The ones against and in favor and all in between. Whatever is their opinion, many people want something from them.
Even though I am aware of this; I’ve been trying to get an honest image of refugees. An insight view. Their living situation and perspective of the future.
Therefor, I have been searching for refugees.

Athens, Greece

Squat
I have to push myself inside. I’m standing in front of a squat around Exarchia where a lot of refugees live. When I have found my courage, I go inside. On the left in the back there are some couches and on the right there is a black woman sitting alone. I ask her where she’s from and explain her that I am working on a project on refugees and would like to interview some people. She leads me to some young people sitting on the couches. They are from Syria. After I tell them what I’m here for and ask if they would talk to me, answer a few questions; there is a long silence.
A guy points at a girl “She wants to”. They laugh and the girl says it might be better if I’d come back another time, later on that day or another moment.

City Hall
Because I typed in “city hall” in stead of “city plaza” in google maps, I find myself in a square. Omonia. I can not find the hotel where refugees live; the City Plaza. There are a lot of people of different nationalities sitting on the square. When I walk away from the square, a guy starts talking to me “hey super model!” I look at him and ask if he knows the hotel. He never heard about it. I don’t remember where he comes from, but he is not a refugee. He tells me that on this quare a lot of refugees come together. Also friends of him, who will be there in about one hour.
I go to a café to have a coffee and look up the right adress of the City Plaza.
In about an hour I arrive back at the square. The guy tells me his friends didn’t arrive yet, and that he’s actually here selling marhiuana.
I walk around the square for a little while and ask a young guy who’s standing there with some friends where he’s from. He’s not a refugee.
I continue my way to City Plaza.

City Plaza
When I enter the old hotel, there’s a man sitting behind a table. I tell him about my project and he leads me to the reception, one floor up. I have a conversation with the girl behind the desk about this place. She explains me a little bit about the people living here. She says many journalists, interested people, and also artstudents come here to do a project with refugees. So some refugees might not feel like cooperating with them anymore. She tells me to please try, and to be discrete. I think about the videocamera in my bag, and how I could use it secretly. But I don’t think that’s what she is talking about.
There is a communal space. I can enter the café and the kitchen on the first floor. But not upstairs, that’s where people live. I sit down and have a coffee and take in the space. There are people talking, guys are playing backgammon. On my leftside and across the room around a couch there are some extremely white and West-European looking, young people.
It gives me a strange feeling to sit there and see them, I get this feeling I usually get when I think about West-Europeans who are volunteering in a foreign country.
After my coffee I walk up to two guys sitting at a table talking together. I tell shortly about what I’m doing. They are from Syria. One of them tells the other one something in Syrian and the other one tellls me he could talk to me for my project, but not right now because he has to work downstairs at the security. We decide to meet tomorrow at 4 o’clock.
I’m back at City Plaza.
The refugee didn’t show up. I don’t have any coins for a cup of coffee, that drips extremely slow out of a machine. The guy at the bar tells me I can come back later to pay for it.
I sit down in one of the very comfortable chairs. A German blonde guy asks me for a cigarette and I ask him if he’s Dutch. He sounded Dutch to me. He’s reading Siddartha and lives in City Plaza. He teaches refugees and cleans the toilets. “It’s like a village”, he tells me. “There are vertical villages and horizontal villages. This is a vertical village.”
“People forget that in every revolution somebody needs to clean the toilet.”
He tells me this is a very nice place, to live as well. Many people from different cultures live here, many refugees, but not only. Actually anybody could live here, if there’s space. For single men it’s a little bit more difficult. Anyone can come here to do something. “If you come here and start cleaning something, nobody would make a problem about it.”

Refugee Plaza
Searching refugees
After refugees have finally found a place to situate themselves for a while, hopefully, living in a semi-safe and perspective place. There will be people against them for being there. They might not know if they want to be there. People will support them as well, wanting to help and others will want to understand them.
Even when accepted in a society; they are still put in a box. They’re stuck with an image people have of them. You can not nót have an opinion about refugees.
In some places they might get overwhelmed by all those interested. The ones against and in favor and all in between. Whatever is their opinion, many people want something from them.
Even though I am aware of this; I’ve been trying to get an honest image of refugees. An insight view. Their living situation and perspective of the future.
Therefor, I have been searching for refugees.

Athens, Greece

Squat
I have to push myself inside. I’m standing in front of a squat around Exarchia where a lot of refugees live. When I have found my courage, I go inside. On the left in the back there are some couches and on the right there is a black woman sitting alone. I ask her where she’s from and explain her that I am working on a project on refugees and would like to interview some people. She leads me to some young people sitting on the couches. They are from Syria. After I tell them what I’m here for and ask if they would talk to me, answer a few questions; there is a long silence.
A guy points at a girl “She wants to”. They laugh and the girl says it might be better if I’d come back another time, later on that day or another moment.

City Hall
Because I typed in “city hall” in stead of “city plaza” in google maps, I find myself in a square. Omonia. I can not find the hotel where refugees live; the City Plaza. There are a lot of people of different nationalities sitting on the square. When I walk away from the square, a guy starts talking to me “hey super model!” I look at him and ask if he knows the hotel. He never heard about it. I don’t remember where he comes from, but he is not a refugee. He tells me that on this quare a lot of refugees come together. Also friends of him, who will be there in about one hour.
I go to a café to have a coffee and look up the right adress of the City Plaza.
In about an hour I arrive back at the square. The guy tells me his friends didn’t arrive yet, and that he’s actually here selling marhiuana.
I walk around the square for a little while and ask a young guy who’s standing there with some friends where he’s from. He’s not a refugee.
I continue my way to City Plaza.

City Plaza
When I enter the old hotel, there’s a man sitting behind a table. I tell him about my project and he leads me to the reception, one floor up. I have a conversation with the girl behind the desk about this place. She explains me a little bit about the people living here. She says many journalists, interested people, and also artstudents come here to do a project with refugees. So some refugees might not feel like cooperating with them anymore. She tells me to please try, and to be discrete. I think about the videocamera in my bag, and how I could use it secretly. But I don’t think that’s what she is talking about.
There is a communal space. I can enter the café and the kitchen on the first floor. But not upstairs, that’s where people live. I sit down and have a coffee and take in the space. There are people talking, guys are playing backgammon. On my leftside and across the room around a couch there are some extremely white and West-European looking, young people.
It gives me a strange feeling to sit there and see them, I get this feeling I usually get when I think about West-Europeans who are volunteering in a foreign country.
After my coffee I walk up to two guys sitting at a table talking together. I tell shortly about what I’m doing. They are from Syria. One of them tells the other one something in Syrian and the other one tellls me he could talk to me for my project, but not right now because he has to work downstairs at the security. We decide to meet tomorrow at 4 o’clock.
I’m back at City Plaza.
The refugee didn’t show up. I don’t have any coins for a cup of coffee, that drips extremely slow out of a machine. The guy at the bar tells me I can come back later to pay for it.
I sit down in one of the very comfortable chairs. A German blonde guy asks me for a cigarette and I ask him if he’s Dutch. He sounded Dutch to me. He’s reading Siddartha and lives in City Plaza. He teaches refugees and cleans the toilets. “It’s like a village”, he tells me. “There are vertical villages and horizontal villages. This is a vertical village.”
“People forget that in every revolution somebody needs to clean the toilet.”
He tells me this is a very nice place, to live as well. Many people from different cultures live here, many refugees, but not only. Actually anybody could live here, if there’s space. For single men it’s a little bit more difficult. Anyone can come here to do something. “If you come here and start cleaning something, nobody would make a problem about it.”

I was familiar with the story of war criminals like Adolf Eichmann, who, according to Hannah Arendt, maybe could have been normal people during non-war times. I think it was Sartre who said something like: people have the most freedom in wartime, because then they can choose options that aren’t available in peacetime.
But those options are always available, and every child knows it. When I was about six years old, my teacher at school told me and my classmates something about bullying. He said: there are three positions to be in: the bully, the one who is bullied, and the ones who see it happen but don’t react, even though they maybe think bullying is wrong.
Resistance is necessary in all times and a lot of situations, not only in wartime, and mostly, it’s not easy and it’s not fun.