Hans Theys

 

 

 

 

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Hans Theys

 

 

Impressions

 

Some words on a parade by Joost Pauwaert

 

 

Xavier Van Eeckhoutte: I found it very surreal, very psychedelic. You had no idea what was going to happen next. Joost takes objects that sow death and destruction and ironizes them. He renders them harmless. He transforms them into Love Bombs and Love Rockets. Tools used for destruction become messengers of universal love. He reduces the phenomenon of war to what it essentially is: an infantile event in which petty people shoot at each other and wreak destruction to the point where nothing is left. Joost’s work is reminiscent of the sixties, of the flower in the gun. Not naive, but in line with the present day. At the same time, he makes history present. You always feel a connection with the past – in joyful processions, for example. He pulls the present and the past together in one event, thinking of the future.

Femke Vandenbosch: I didn’t see the actual procession because I was in the gallery. In the morning, I did help tie bombs together. The atmosphere was fantastic. It reminded me of my time with the scouts. Every year we would take part in the carnival procession and every year we would be up against the clock, barely finishing in time. I am a big fan of Joost’s work. 
I think it’s very fresh. I also like his approach. His work strikes a balance between the horror of war and the appeal of play and celebration. Horror and joy are interwoven in a spectacle that never really reveals what it is actually about. There is something mischievous about it too: we are going to play, but it will not be without danger. Just how dangerous, Joost never says. I am afraid of explosions myself, but that is also why I understand the appeal of his experiments. I am also fascinated by Marian apparitions and processions. In the past, people gathered outside to worship, hope, dream and celebrate. Many people experienced Joost’s triumphal procession as a celebration. This was obvious when the procession arrived at the gallery with hundreds of people in tow. That was also when it became clear that it had not just been a procession, but an exhibition that was passing through the city.

Klaas Vandenbroucke: How did I end up in the procession? Six months earlier, I was looking for a nice place to spend my days and I ended up in Joost’s studio. That period did me a lot of good. Joost has a casualness that I find difficult to describe and I believe is very rare. At one point, we were all working together in the studio. I was hitting a mould with a heavy hammer, François was working behind me with a grinding wheel and a third person was welding. A cheerful popping and crackling affair. Joost came and stood next to me for a moment. ‘Wow, we’re really working here,’ I said. ‘Isn’t it fantastic!’ he replied. 

     It was a strange way of working; one that took me back to my childhood when I sometimes pretended to be doing something ‘real’, like drilling a hole in the wall with my index finger. The procession was also pretend, but real nevertheless. A serious game. I was partly responsible for rolling and swinging the bell tower. It was the only vehicle without a manoeuvrable axle, so we had to dance with it to have it change direction. That was very tough. There was a lot of pushing and pulling. The nice thing was that we all had the same goal: to keep the procession moving. Meanwhile, Joost walked around keeping an eye open. He was everywhere at once, but very calm. Everything was tinged by his aesthetics, which I cannot describe, but I can sense. Those golden flags fluttering in the sunlight… Beautiful!

Gideon Kiefer: As soon as I heard Joost talk about his plan to stage a kind of Napoleonic entry, I was ready to pitch in. I am also very interested in history. I wanted to take on the role of a general. 

     There is a kind of camaraderie in our gallery, which has to do with Oliver Barbé’s generosity. There is no competition between the artists; we enjoy helping each other. The idea of ​​doing something crazy in Ghent and making a lot of noise certainly appealed to me, but so did the apocalyptic aspect. My work is also about that. I didn’t see much of the procession because I was pushing a bomb. It was spectacular: fantastic weather, the smell of gunpowder, the smoke, the size of the procession, the many bystanders. It reminded me of my youth in Neerpelt, where an uncle of mine organised an annual street theatre festival. I was there every year, but as a spectator. Now I was one of the actors. It looked like a carnival procession, but 
it was also a kind of theatre.

Anke Vandemeulebroeke: I loved it. I enjoyed it very much. As a child, I walked in processions. Once I walked at the front with my sister. I often travel to Spain and on one occasion I was there during Holy Week - Semana Santa. Processions connect people, even if they aren’t religious. The music alone is incredible. Even when you are in a foreign country, you feel connected to other people. You get close to yourself, but you share that experience with others. You feel that you matter.

Martijn De Meuleneire: I felt healthy stress. Joost had asked me to take photographs and I wanted to do my job well, but I also felt a sense of euphoria. A combination of stress and fun it was. The preparations in the morning were almost as enjoyable as the procession itself. Suddenly the sun came out. The light was amazing. The best moment was the falling piano. Expensive cars and people at street cafés everywhere. They couldn’t believe their eyes! At least twenty people came to inquire about our political stance. They assumed they were witnessing a fun protest march. As an activist, I have participated in many mass actions in Germany. Before we break into some place, we always walk together, as in a procession. It felt a bit like that. At a certain point, we realised that the flag bearers were going to touch the overhead cables powering the trams. François was just in time to push someone’s arm down and warn them. Joost had permission, of course, but he doesn’t always conform to rules. He will always try and push the boundaries!

Inge Braeckman: Joost created a Napoleonic vibe, taking the onlookers back to another era, where there is not only room for cannons, but also for a cracking romance? The procession was magical. Objects such as rockets and cannonballs that we associate with war, battles, destruction and fire were transformed into an artistic experience in which cannon shots caressed the onlookers who became part of a lived performance.

David Van Belleghem: Joost is an old friend. I am a drummer. He asked if I would play the drums in the procession. I was to walk in front with another musician and set the tempo. He wanted it to sound a bit like a death march. He quickly outlined the route we were to take. It was an 800-metre walk, from St. Bavo’s Cathedral to the gallery. The police suggested a change of route and we followed their advice. Joost was busy elsewhere. He let us do what we wanted. My overriding memory is seeing us being overtaken by a cloud of smoke. I turned around and saw that the mega rocket being pushed behind us was spewing out a huge plume of black smoke. Members of the public relaxing at the outdoor cafés were slowly being engulfed. I saw police officers cycling past, but they didn’t stop us. Lots of people spoke to us. They thought we were political activists. I enjoyed seeing a suited and booted Joost, trousers fluttering as he scurried around, happily hectic. 

Oona Theys: I enjoyed being part of it and working on it. It was really funny. The way it was made. The cake exploding. The piano falling. The sound of the piano falling! And on the bell tower there was a machine with a handle, which Joost had to turn. That sounded nice, too, and I thought it was funny as well. He asked if I wanted to decorate the sculptures with balloons. He showed me how to fill them with gas and tie a string round them. And he told me where I could hang them. Everywhere actually.

Willem Boel: I thought it was important to be there. An artist who organizes a parade in a city deserves to be supported. You need a lot of enthusiastic people for something like that. It was exuberant and chaotic. When you organize something on that sort of scale, you don’t have time to prepare everything down to the last detail. It is bound to be chaotic. That’s how it was announced. By the way, I didn’t expect anything less from Joost, who always goes one step further than what he expects of himself. The first thing I should say about it is that I didn’t get any information from Joost. He only told us to dress up as a king, a soldier or something in-between. I wore a tailcoat and bowler hat. I think I looked like an aristocrat, but an aristocrat who puts himself at the service of a higher power, not a man who only thinks of himself. Joost’s father and I were put in charge of pushing a kind of gigantic V2 bomb, which looked a bit like a Tintin rocket. The weather was incredibly beautiful and all the street cafés were packed. The departure of the procession was delayed slightly, so people were asking what the idea was, what was going on. It was exuberant, light-hearted chaos. When the smoke bombs were set off, everything was covered with a thin layer of soot, including our clothes and the beers and desserts on the café tables. The smoke was so thick that at one point the sun was completely obscured, even though it had been shining brightly. We felt a strange sense of power. All it took was a small hand gesture from me and the crowd parted like the Red Sea. People moved with the procession. On the one hand, we were actors, but at the same time there was something real about it. You genuinely felt you were conveying something to the onlookers.

Karel Thienpont: It was great. I had learned by swiping that Joost was looking for volunteers. A public transport strike left me stranded somewhere, but Anke Vandemeulebroeke came to my rescue. Originally I was going to carry a flag, but then they asked me to push the cart with the piano. It was super nice. Oona also carried a flag. It was very beautiful. The whole thing reminded me of my childhood. As children during the celebrations for 150 years of Belgian railways, we were allowed to climb onto a steam train and ride along. This gave me the same feeling. We drove back to Oudenaarde and went to a nice restaurant. It was a perfect day.

 

Montagne de Miel, 25 February 2025