It seems almost inevitable that Brussels’ most subversive artistic experiment would end up on Rue de Martoux, or Hammer Street in English. In early 2022, French visual artist Salomé Sperling, 25, then a fourth-year student at the Design Academy Eindhoven in the Netherlands, bought a 5,000-square-foot building about a 90-minute drive from campus. We found a 6-bedroom townhouse property. A 600 square foot studio was attached. Sperling and four schoolmates, Jaime Le Bleu (27), Ale Mangindaan (24), Line Marken (28), and Shijimen Verkoop (26), were killed in the city. They decided to build their own studio in their home in San Jose, a densely populated area. Tennode area. The fact that the building was abandoned, covered in at least 10 years of dirt, with patchy electricity and no heating only made them love it even more.
That winter, the five students (Mangindahn has since moved to Berlin) began renovating the four-story property, which was built as a private residence in the late 19th century and later used as an office. It took three months to make the place habitable. In the middle of winter, everyone slept in the same room to keep warm. However, they often worked through the night to make the furniture and other objects that filled the rooms. It was an opportunity for us not only to create our own creations, but also to try them out ourselves. “In school, you don’t learn how these things are actually applied,” Belkoop says.
A month after moving in, Espace Aygo was established, named after Le Bleu’s beloved Toyota Aygo. Le Bleu uses it to transport discarded tables and chairs, odd metal scraps, and other salvaged materials to its headquarters. “In the beginning, there was a rule that you couldn’t leave the house without bringing something with you,” Marken says. The artist collective describes their style as “patchwork.” This is the result of their own collage-like approach to creating furniture, as well as the contributions of other artists in residence as part of an informal residency program. Almost everything except kitchen utensils is handmade.
From the foyer, a long colorful hallway leads to the central staircase and the studio behind it. The salon to the right of the hallway features a ceiling fresco of a nude woman by artist Klartje van Essen and Rothko-style walls in shades of clementine and cobalt blue, as well as the building’s original stained glass windows and marble fireplace. is saved. The mantel is covered in stainless steel). Through an archway lined with plaster casts of his friend’s chest, he enters a cozy alcove known as the Grotto, with papier-mâché walls made from copies of novels he discovered in the basement. The room has a rustic, almost grotesque feel, with a bright green splatter-shaped rug and a sofa Sperling made from a tangled nest of distorted blue cushions atop welded metal rods.
The basement kitchen is reminiscent of what the group jokingly calls “The Hobbit’s industrial revolution.” Suspended above the Le Bleu metal and cardboard pulp dining table, the tentacle-like hammered steel light fixture has a magnetic end for storing cutlery. The group eats colorful glazed clay tablets that, when stacked, are made to resemble totem sculptures. (That way, even the pile of dirty dishes looks nice.) On the third floor, husband and wife Sperling and Le Bleu share a giant butterfly-shaped stainless steel bed they built together. I am. Marken’s bedroom on the top floor evokes a fleshy cocoon, with walls made of papier-mâché covered in insulating foam and plaster. Velcorp’s room is currently a work in progress, with only a temporary wooden bed frame and mattress.
In April 2022, Espace Aygo residents began hosting cultural events. The following November, they organized a life drawing class, which was so well attended that it became a wild party. “It was out of control,” Marken says. “The whole space felt a little abused after that,” Verekop adds gloomily. A week later, Sperling and Marken were completing a personal commission in their studio – a human-sized steel cage covered in polyurethane foam – when a spark from a heat gun ignited the highly flammable material. . Marken and Sperling were rescued by the fire department and spent the night at the house next door, where Sperling’s childhood best friend happened to live, but when they returned the next morning, thieves had stolen their tools and computer. Ta.
The destruction prompted a reset and deepened their bond. “When things are going well, it’s very easy to get along with each other,” Verekop says. “But when things get bad, it’s important to know that you can rely on each other.” As a cure, they built a chaise lounge and upholstered it with fireproof curtains that survived the fire. “We think the house told us to relax,” Sperling says. “We’ve lost track of what we’re doing here.”
They also recommitted themselves to finishing what they started. I made a vase for the hallway out of recycled wood from an axe-throwing bar. They often congregate in the bathroom, sometimes making an effort to all take a shower at the same time. Marken hoped the new bathtub, coated with urethane rubber that softens with hot water, would evoke the feeling of being inside the womb. The shower and sink are made from fiberglass and colored polyester, and petanque balls are repurposed as faucets.
When the lease ends in December, the building will be demolished. Still, the group is optimistic. The plan is to sell the furniture and start again. “You can put us anywhere and apply what we learn,” Le Bleu says. “We are literally creating a world that makes us happy,” Sperling adds. “We want to explore that further.”
Producer: Misha Khan
