In the latest edition of our interview series, we once again dive into the world of minimalist aesthetics. In inspiring conversations with creative minds from the fields of architecture, design, and art, we explore how they are guided by their vision and how they express it in their works. Along the way, they provide us with interesting insights into their creative process and reveal how they perceive and shape the world. This time, I had the pleasure of having an inspiring conversation with Tom Van Puyvelde.
Tom Van Puyvelde (b. 1985) is an emerging artist from Belgium whose minimalist compositions consciously question conventional categories such as abstraction and figuration. The artist describes himself as a “fundamental painter” whose works are less about depiction but more about translation. The minimalist aesthetic of Van Puyvelde’s works invites a contemplative dialog and addresses the interplay between visibility and disappearance. By subtly layering color and textures, his paintings invite viewers to discover the universal essence of light, color and space.
In this interview, I talk to Tom about his creative process and the development of his unique artistic language. Tom shares what it means to him to be a “fundamental painter” and why he finds the categorization of his work rather limiting. He also provides insights into his working process and shares his thoughts on how art can inspire deep personal reflection.
Tom, thank you for your time today! Please tell us how your artistic journey began. You initially studied architecture – what made you become an artist?
Hi Sarah, thank you so much for having me. From an early age, I had the need to create. I was lucky that my parents noticed this, and supported me in a creative study choice. I was allowed to go to secondary art school at the age of fifteen on condition that I kept enough hours of math. That’s how I ended up with architecture. Because I was quite good and passionate about what I did, I paved a road to higher architecture studies.
During my studies, I compensated for the computer’s takeover of the analogue working process, through evening classes charcoal model drawing and oil painting. I realized this amateur level wasn’t enough and started studying again after graduating architecture, this time fine arts: painting. I graduated after four years, in 2014.
How has your creative process developed over the years? Were there certain insights or experiences that shaped your artistic language?
There are two moments I would like to highlight: a painting titled ‘Spectrum’, and a series of paintings named ‘Variantes’.
In 2020, I created a painting that consists of twenty squared canvases. It was created in Berlin, for an event space overlooking the river. The canvases were painted individually, with no overview of the whole. Each is unique in its own way of painting, dictated by the development of the process. I have always had a kind of dissatisfaction in limiting myself to a coherent way of painting. This work is a reflection of this restlessness. When the canvases were finished, they were brought together as a whole.
The original image of a waterfall on which the work is based, still shimmers through the final result, but it is mainly the sampling of possible ways and intensities of painting each fragment that speaks. Through reflection, and an almost impenetrable text written by Domenico de Chirico about the work, it has become clear over the years how significant this work is for the development of my own vision: it became clear my work is not about the depiction, but about the translation.
Secondly, there’s the ‘Variantes’ series, created during my artist residency in 2022 at Chambre avec vue, in Saignon, France. This series of paintings, created in a picturesque town upon a hill in the South of France, conceptually relates to the earlier discussed Spectrum painting, but instead of having all the energy condensed in one artwork, the painterly explorations are spread over multiple, separate paintings. What was new here was that I used my own photography as source images for the paintings.
All photos were taken from the same viewpoint in the town. I have photographed the sight countless times, exposing a spectrum of color and light. From this archive of images, I selected some that I took as a starting point to paint. The series can be seen as painterly meditations on the essential question of how to deconstruct figuration through the painting process. To the point where only the essentials remain: light, color and space.
How would you describe your art to someone who has never seen it?
I find it difficult and dangerous to do, as I am too involved in the creation of the works. Therefore, I would like to quote Domenico de Chirico, an extract from his text in my publication ‘Variantes’:
[…] Now, here is this place without barriers Van Puyvelde’s fierce brushstrokes reach out for – a place that is situated beyond the figurative and the abstract. Van Puyvelde hastens to achieve this visual and inner spectrum that culminates in the depth and the blossoming of existence itself, paraphrasing and idyllic stillness, where ‘a cavern is situated, with ivy, shade and pleasantly sweet waters.’1
(¹ Torquato Tasso, Jerusalem Delivered, canto XVI, first published 1581)
You consciously refrain from categorizing your works into traditional categories such as abstraction and figuration and describe yourself as a “fundamental painter”. Could you please elaborate on what you mean by this term?
I have always been attracted to artists who relate to their own medium in fundamental ways: artists who do not take for granted the existence of their own medium: artists that refuse a naive approach to their medium. The work of fundamental artists asks more questions, rather than formulating answers, or settling comfortably into a genre or classification. Obviously, it takes more time, courage, knowledge and effort to get in touch with the work. Some artists who inspire me in this light are Robert Ryman, Gerhard Richter, Rudolf Stingel and Thomas Ruff.
As for my own work, I find categories (such as abstraction – figuration) rather limiting and flattening. My more figurative paintings often balance on a border with recognizability. Some people find them abstract, but for me, they are an afterglow of light and color: a remnant of a figurative landscape. My more abstract ‘Residu’ works are made with surplus paint from my palette, as daily registrations of color.
And my ‘Index’ works are compositions of the monochromatic base colors I use for my figurative paintings, sometimes combined with figurative painting within the same work. This in itself shows how irrelevant classification is, it leaves no room for nuances.
The work of fundamental artists asks more questions, rather than formulating answers, or settling comfortably into a genre or classification.
Take us into your studio. How do you start a new work of art, and how does your painting process unfold? Do you work on several pieces at the same time or do you prefer to concentrate on a single work?
Let’s start to briefly describing what my studio looks like. It is clean and orderly, and has evenly spaced tube lighting in daylight white. The light is unsociable, but the best light for color fidelity. I like to create in an empty, bright space with as few distractions as possible.
I always start from imagery: found or self-taken photos. The content or choice of image is not important. It is only a trigger to start painting. I tell a story about ‘how to translate an image into a painting’ rather than a picture story where the significance of what is depicted is important. That is why I often repeat the same exercise. Through repetition, it loses its uniqueness. What then makes the painting unique is the physical presence it has acquired in the translation, through painting and all the choices made in that conversion. From this arises a versatility, a richness, or better: a spectrum.
Back to the process: after selecting the photographic images, I decide on the sizes of the canvases. After the canvases are stretched, I mix the basic colors that are enclosed in the image, usually working with eight basic colors. I then build up the image using a grid until the painting is constructed in analogy with the basic image. After that, the actual painting process starts: then I erase it through brushes, scrapers, rags, until something emerges that amazes me: the afterglow of what was once a figurative image. A painting that is no longer an image, but a distillate of its underlying essence: light and color.
I structure the process in steps so that I can be as fundamentally engaged in the specific phase as possible. Of course, it does happen that I deviate from the plan during the further development of the process. I usually work on several canvases at the same time, as this gives me the freedom to immediately follow a different path dictated by the process, on a different canvas.
Your works embody a nuanced interplay between visibility and disappearance. What fascinates you about this balancing act?
What fascinates me about this process is that some kind of essence emerges: a universal energy embedded in the image materializes in the hazy transitions. How to materialize the invisible? How to visualize the immaterial? The cadence of the repetitive brushstrokes is almost like a meditative performance that leads to something bigger than my own mind and being. It’s my way of connecting with the otherness.
What do you think is necessary for art to inspire deep personal reflection? And what do you hope your works will evoke in the viewer?
This is a difficult question given that it is a very individual matter. I look at the world around me as a function of wonder. What experience do I get? I try not to think too much, rather to feel. Which is not always easy. For me, a work of art is powerful if it can give me a deep experience.
I still vividly remember the first time I visited Anish Kapoor’s permanent installation ‘At the Edge of the World’ (1998) at Axel Vervoordt’s headquarters in Belgium. It was an incredible experience, looking into an infinite dark red universe. Another example is the work of Caravaggio. Every work of his I have seen to date has touched me deeply. It is extraordinary, the light is almost tangible. The energy it radiates is brilliant.
I hope that in some way my own works will give viewers a sense of wonder.
The cadence of the repetitive brushstrokes is almost like a meditative performance that leads to something bigger than my own mind and being.
And finally: what are you working on right now and what are your plans for the future? Are there topics you would like to explore in more detail?
Currently, I’m working on paintings of my latest Evanescence series, based on a different image from the same subject but with different angles and colors. I’m very excited about the vibrant blues that are arising. I’m also making studies for a new series of works that will be based on different genres of source imagery. Lastly I’m organizing upcoming projects: exhibitions, fairs and residencies.
Thank you so much, Tom!
