I wrote in a recent article “If contemporary art is your scene, then the Knokke Biennale should be in your diary.” To be honest though, I’m not really sure that it’s my scene. Of course it depends on how you define contemporary art, but when I walked into Hoet Bekaert’s summer gallery in Knokke - grandly/ironically called the Knokke Biennale – my immediate reaction was “is this it?”
A replica of a matchbox, a donkey’s head that had been used as a stage prop, a photograph resting on two drums of cat food, pieces of carbon copy paper with phrases such as “This looks like something I’ve seen before” mounted on light boxes...you get the picture.
Once the ideas behind the works had been explained, I started to appreciate them more. There is definitely a part of me that seeks to understand and analyse, wanting context and background. And I like to think that I have a relatively open mind. But had I seen these works anywhere but in a gallery, would I really have given them a second glance?
As I was shown round the small garage-like space, I still had a lingering doubt that I was perhaps being taken in by one big joke. After all, the whole Knokke Biennale idea had been done tongue-in-cheek (and brilliantly so), so maybe this was just one more element.
But no, these were works by well-known names on the contemporary art circuit: the donkey’s head was by Thai artist Surasi Kusolwong, who has exhibited at London's Tate Modern; and the work using cat food drums was by Amanda Ross-Ho, with whom the Hoet Bekaert gallery will be going to London’s Frieze Art Fair this year.
Gallery co-founder Jan Hoet Junior was keen to dispel the assumption of many that contemporary art is something that anyone can do. For me though that wasn’t the source of my doubts. It was rather the fact that when I viewed the works, I didn’t feel anything (other than perhaps bewilderment). I want colours or shapes or textures to prompt some instinctive response, to have aesthetic appeal - is that too old-fashioned a thought? or am I just missing the point?