Mark is part of the h3h biennial team. But what is his role?
Mark: “You might say I’m a technical producer. Though that sounds a bit too technological, but ‘creative producer’ doesn’t quite cover it either. It’s more something in between, so I think ‘artistic producer’ describes it well.”
Mark is self-employed; his company is called KOW projects. That name arose organically, it doesn’t actually stand for anything. So how do your customers find you?
“I’m not much for what they call ‘cold acquisition’. My work is always in motion, and a lot of contact comes from my network. My expertise is very multifaceted. I’ve studied at an art academy, but I’ve also run an interior decorating company. I know how things are made and I’ve got an aesthetician’s eye, so I’m essentially an allrounder. A few words are often enough for me to get a clear picture – and to determine whether a project is doable. You could say I speak all ‘languages’ in the field: the artist’s tongue, and the curator’s, but also the technician’s and the artisan’s. There’s no better advertisement than working with people and getting a sense for each other.”
So you’re there to help with constructive thinking, but what is it that a curator could ask of you?
“Arranging things to be exhibited is part of a curator’s job. There’s a hundred different ways to do this, which are all connected to the artwork itself. A painting hanging on the wall may seem simple enough, but you still have to deal with the way the light hits it, and whether artificial light is needed. A site-specific installation requires even more planning. You have to consider the construction, the material, technical facilities, and weather resistance.”
An example
“This h3h biennial, we’re screening a film in St. Catharinadal, in a room that wasn’t built as a film room. The easy solution would be to install a television and call it a day. But we’re talking about art; the piece is meant to leave an impression, to be experienced. The room, the sound, and everything around it are all part of that experience. The film is provided as-is, but it’s got a lot of black tones and somewhat tinny sound. A film with a lot of blacks requires a high-quality projector. And it’ll require sound insulation to make sure the noise doesn’t bother the sisters in the monastery. The room has a lot of windows, which means the daylight shining inside will have to be blocked in order to keep the space dark. There are technical factors such as routing to be considered, along with the things that are allowed in the building or absolutely forbidden, and, crucially: what the curators are trying to convey. As simple as it sounds, this requires a lengthy process of planning, consultation and review.”
Other solutions
“I sometimes try to change people’s minds, as it’s all too easy to get stuck on a given ‘mental path’ that doesn’t lead to a solution. That’s when I might propose some left-field idea to see if that gets things unstuck. It can have very effective results.
The biennial features a few works whose exhibition is very straightforward. Stick them on a wall and Bob’s your uncle – but these make up a minority. About 90 percent of the pieces require some extra work involving the site or location. Even the ones that are seemingly good to go may need a little construction work. A wall built here, a door sealed away there. Sometimes you need to pull out all the stops to fix something that looks completely straightforward.”
I SPEAK ALL “LANGUAGES”.
Are you more of a builder or an organiser?
“It depends on the job. I’ve got a workshop full of machines and I can build things myself. This exhibition isn’t my only project. But for the h3h biennial, I oversee the construction and dismantling. When I work with other parties, I involve them in the process. I coordinate, I build, I make, and I install certain components.”
You also assist the artists in the realisation of their work?
“Yes, especially the more conceptual projects, like LOVE GRAVE. This is a work that’s been realised before, but on the other side of the world, where the soil and climate can be totally different. That requires some serious mulling over. We need to keep the production safe, but we can’t break the bank either – keep in mind the biennial is just a six-week exhibition. We have to weigh all these factors in the realisation. This is a piece where the concept is supplied by the artist, but the execution is all ours.”
The acquaintance between Mark and director Monique Verhulst goes back to a prior project they worked together on.
But what else is he working on?
“I’m actually not working on other exhibitions at the moment, but I am involved in other projects. Like building outdoorsy campervans, an interior design project, and developing a modular event space. In summer I do presentation and activation work for various festivals, developing and building something concrete based on commissioners’ moodboards.”
So you really are the man behind the scenes?
“Right, I’m happy to stay away from the limelight. I focus on taking pleasure in my work over becoming famous. My work is my life; I can’t separate it into a working life and a private life. It’s important for me to have a good time when I’m at work. The best ideas can pop up right when I’m in the shower, or in bed. That process doesn’t shut down when I clock out.”
Any fun anecdotes about the last biennial?
“Berlinde De Bruyckere’s sculpture, Arcangelo V, had to be placed right underneath a great big chandelier hanging from a chain in Sint Paulusabdij. The chandelier looked just like a halo crowning the statue – it was communicating far too strongly with the art, and so it had to go. Sounds straightforward, but it absolutely wasn’t… We had to open the roof of the church from the outside, climb onto the dome, pull up the chandelier, and close the roof back up again. And then of course after the biennial had ended, we had to restore the building to its original state, which meant doing it all over again. That was no small feat!”
What’s the main challenge this biennial will pose?
“Nothing so far, really. There’s no problem that can’t be overcome. I’m very keen to see Frank Havermans’ work though. He’s building a bridge to the monastery garden. It’s simultaneously a work of art and a functional entryway into the area, which requires consideration of accessibility, integration with the monastery wall, and a way to shut down access outside of opening hours. That’s a lot of things to balance. I’m a fan of his work, so I can’t wait to see how he solves this and how the bridge will end up looking.”
Sounds like you’re more curious than worried?
“Yes, there’s a solution for anything. There are still a lot of uncertainties at this stage, but it’s just too early in the process to start worrying. I’m fairly stress-proof. It’s something people admire in me, the ability to stay calm in situations like this. I’m not the panicky type; I’d rather try to keep everyone involved in sorting the problem and looking how a given solution works out. Doesn’t matter if it’s about money, construction or aesthetics. ‘This is the issue at hand: how are we going to deal with it?’ That attitude will get you far.”
Photographs: Mark working with artists and curators.
