29.5 x 29.5 cm, 2023
I’ve never bought a handkerchief. They’re usually passed down to me from my father and grandfather. Each of these bits of cloth carries with it the portrait of its (former) owner: my granddad wiped away his tears with it after a moving concert, my dad blew his nose on it theatrically and I myself use it mainly for capturing allergic leakages.
The washing machine attempts to erase the traces of use but mostly it succeeds in adding some structure to the lives of the handkerchiefs. Sometimes the handkerchief’s tenure is long, sometimes it is short. The rhythm is determined by the seasons. Though the soap may remove the bacteria, any marks remain emblazoned in the cotton by the heat of the iron.
For Les Mouchoirs de Poche, I actually did buy new handkerchiefs. They arrived in my mailbox. Not a single mark or trace of life on them, suspiciously white and aloof. I took one of these handkerchiefs and imprinted it with a self-portrait of my face from ear to ear.
Handkerchief made for ‘Les Mouchoirs de Poche’, exhibtion at CONVENT Art Space Ghent.
Part of the amazing publication ‘Great Noses Are Blown Alike’, Posture Editions. Translation of the text by Jonathan Beaton.
Screen-printed at Het Lab, Entrepot, Brugge.
Special thanks to Julia Walk.