met:
LUNA Antwerp
This dress is made to move through every season, pieces are attached and detached through zippers, becoming something else as the year turns. But really, it is about a different kind of season: the ones we live through, and struggle to let go of.
We mortals have never mastered the art of accepting change. Nature does it so easily, leaves fall, seasons turn, nothing holds on too tightly while we resist, afraid of what comes next.
And yet change is what surrounds us always. Isn't that the strange beauty of it?
We hold onto summer the way we hold sand, tightly, desperately, as if grip alone could keep it close. But the tighter we hold, the faster it slips through our fingers.
We want to stay in the moment. We want to catch time in our hands.
This dress is our attempt to do just that to hold every season at once, refusing to let any of them go.
Shakira Haidari & Chiara Maruani
LUNA Antwerp
Carla Martín
During my residency period at Bosacademie, I further developed my research into online “aeromorph” communities connected to furry fan-art practices. Artists working within this branch of what we might broadly consider furry art draw humanised airplanes, creating speculative anatomies and fictional backstories around them through complex processes of worldbuilding. The resulting images reflect the collective passions and irrational desires of a diverse group connected by a shared interest. Aeromorph artists circulate across forums such as DeviantArt, Rule34 and FurAffinity, with the balance between male-gaze-driven and queer content varying from platform to platform. I am particularly interested in desire as a force of equivalence.
Because of their formal ambiguity, smooth surfaces and dynamic shapes reminiscent of cetaceans or birds, airplanes become flexible templates: image-moulds into which specific desires and passions can be poured. In my own work, this research materialises through different attempts to translate and move between the sculptural and the graphic.
Valéria Martins
I am a Portuguese artist who moved to Brussels two years ago to study. I thought I would become grounded in Belgium, but my practice keeps me moving between Portugal and Belgium. This projection brings together portraits of people I meet along the way and before. These encounters become part of my movement between places. I move, knowing that I will meet someone. Valéria Martins
Jenske Eeckhout & Aiko Annaert | Deery
Deery is een langdurige en ambitieuze samenwerking tussen Aiko Annaert en Jenske Eeckhout, waarbij ze stap voor stap een stop-motion film maken. De kortfilm volgt de personages Holger en Lef, grootvader en kleindochter, en is een poging mens en dier liefdevol maar complex naast elkaar te zetten. Aiko en Jenske ontmoetten elkaar in hun opleiding Schrijven & Maken aan Luca School Of Arts, waar ze in hun eerste jaar samen Deery's scenario schreven. Vanuit een liefde voor animatie en stop-motion, beide kunstvormen vol fantasie, en een appreciatie voor DIY, zoeken ze hun weg in de wereld van sets, poppen en frames per second. Neem een kijkje in de twee decors die ze tijdens Bosacademie in elkaar staken, en beeldt je alvast in dat de poppen erin tot leven komen. Neem mee plaats aan de tafel en ontdek wat er gebeurt als je de tijd neemt om mee te bouwen aan een wereld. Coming soon!
Maya Scarcelli & Martin Gécé
Martin Gécé and Maya Star
FR: Notre travail questionne les hiérarchies culturelles à travers les objets de consommation de masse et populaire, à travers la santé mentale et à travers les réseaux sociaux. Nous ne nous contentons pas d'emprunter les codes de ces tendances, mais bien de créer des dispositifs qui s'ancrent de manière saine dans ces cultures.
EN: Our work questions cultural hierarchies through objects of mass and popular consumption, through mental health, and through social media. We do not simply borrow the codes of these trends, but rather create dispositifs that are rooted in these cultures in a healthy way.
Erisa Bakalli
When reassembling the idea of what a space is, I often think of it in fragments, almost like a quick capture of a situation on the street or a few words related to a situation. This type of fragmentation has always fascinated me when playing games such as Tekken when I was younger or when I revisit games such as Earthbound or The Binding of Isaac. As this heavily embeds itself in memory, the idea of space works in a similar manner, where it is never a fixed thing but a constant vague memory that can be altered. The way space is constructed within these realms (video games) is fragmented, almost like objects and environments sit at the periphery of your eye. Either by a small glitch occurring in the background, a change of scenery or even a movement that happens quite frontally. These fragments almost capture the presence of an object, or a feeling or a movement, yet it escapes you the very second you’re about to see it or slightly understand it. This constant back and forth, this game, was how I constructed this installation. A way of stubbornly trying to capture, constantly, what I see when I’m gaming. The way this installation works is as that chase or a never-ending battle, the work presents itself only in this moment, slightly static, in one setting. But changeable when removed or placed in another. The viewer witnesses this chase and becomes equally part of that process, as much as the space the work occupies.
The work uses materials such as vacuum formed shapes, the usage of multiple different resins, pigments, paper, stickers, silicones, wax, plaster, aluminium, tape, polymer, pvc and other plastics, gloves, shoes and shoe laces. And references heavily to titles such as Vectorman (1995)
Hadrien Loumaye
I will present an assembled work from my ongoing series of modular paintings. The piece brings together multiple canvases, creating a dialogue between distinct fields of colour. Rather than existing as a single flat surface, the work is constructed in layers, with different canvases overlapping one another to form a subtle sense of volume. This layered structure reveals certain areas while concealing others, creating a dynamic interplay between visibility and absence.
Tobias Huycke
Tijdens mijn Vruchtbare Grond-residentie maakte ik drie geluidsinstallaties waar je telkens een korte scène van het luisterverhaal ‘Lijfrente’ kan luisteren. Lijfrente is een auditief fictieverhaal over het zoeken naar een eigen fysieke plek, de waarde hiervan en de moeilijkheden die hierbij komen kijken. In dit werk ging ik voornamelijk op zoek naar hoe we als maatschappij kijken naar wonen en vastgoed.
Nastia Shchukina
Treasure hunting
The video work brings together everyday objects the artist took with her when she emigrated. Acquired largely by chance and used over time, these belongings have become reminders of her life before the emigration. The memories associated with them concern small, unrelated moments rather than significant milestones. The work invites the viewers to engage in close scrutiny and brings the intimacy of familiar belongings into contact with the impersonal security checks and immigration policies.
Arseniy Litviniuk
Arseniy Litviniuk If you can't love yourself, how are you gonna love somebody else? Do love for the self and love for the other intersect? How do we love, and who do we really love when we love someone? If you can't love yourself, how are you gonna love somebody else? is a memory game that sits with these questions . Play the game and guess who is dating who.
Helena Severens
Mijn project vertrok vanuit de passieve weergave van vrouwen in de kunst. Ik wou deze stereotypering tegengaan en de focus leggen op actie. Aan de hand van workshops konden mensen participeren aan mijn project. Doorheen deze collectieve momenten verschoof de focus van mijn werk. Ik werd uit mijn comfortzone gehaald. Afschuwelijk, maar wel interessant. Nieuwe mensen leren kennen, hun verhalen horen en elkaar dingen bijleren. Zien hoe ook zij zich openstellen. Samen kijken we nu vanuit onze plaats in de gehaakte collage naar jou.
Karl Joonas Alamaa
After the Monument
This work is part of my ongoing artistic research into the relationship between the individual, collective memory, and structures of power. It takes as its starting point a 1948 monument by Estonian sculptor August Vomm depicting an anonymous Soviet soldier, erected in Viljandi during the Soviet occupation of Estonia. Presenting the Soviet soldier as a liberator, the monument instead became a symbol of occupation and imposed political power, and was removed on 3 September 1991, only fourteen days after Estonia restored its independence. The original sculpture was made during a post-war shortage of materials, using concrete that gradually deteriorated in the local climate. By the time of its removal, the soldier had been “disarmed”: the machine gun originally held in his left hand, together with part of the arm itself, had disappeared, either through material decay or a possible act of resistance. Now held in the collection of the Estonian History Museum, it is one of the few ideologically charged monuments of the “unknown soldier” type in Estonia to have been preserved, and became the basis for this textile reconstruction, for which I took a pattern directly from the surface of the original sculpture. In its translation from concrete into fabric, the monument loses its permanence and authority: the soldier sags, becomes tired, and vulnerable. The floral fabric recalls Soviet-era domestic textiles and wallpapers while simultaneously resembling camouflage, bringing together the visual languages of private life and military power. The work considers the contradiction between the soldier as a symbol of an occupying regime and as an anonymous individual caught within larger systems of war, ideology, and state power. By softening and destabilising the monument, the work connects ongoing debates in Estonia and Belgium around contested monuments and colonial heritage, asking how transformation and recontextualisation might offer ways of confronting difficult histories beyond the binary of preservation and removal.
Merlijn Beullens
When was it, exactly, that the sky tore itself apart?
Met deze experimentele archiefvideo experimenteert Merlijn Beullens met technieken van direct animation op 16mm-pellicule en found footage. Aan de hand van chemisch gestimuleerd verval, krassen en schilderingen creëert zij nieuwe ecologieën van een geheugen.
Geïnspireerd door de zonsverduistering van 12 augustus 2025 onderzoekt de film wat we zien, maar ook wat aan ons zicht ontsnapt. Ze stelt de vraag hoe onze blik verbonden is met hemellichamen: hoe wordt de manier waarop we kijken en wegkijken gevormd door wat zich boven ons afspeelt? En wat kunnen we daardoor wel en niet meer rondom ons zien?
Alle Rivieren worden één
Deze tekst werd geschreven in het kader van de schrijfresidentie van deBuren in Parijs en onderzoekt het samenspel van verschillende lagen van herinneringen, en hoe deze samen een mythisch landschap vormen.
Elisa Verkoelen
NL
Elisa Verkoelen werkt vanuit de achtergelaten ruimte in schelpen, de stilte in gesprekken en de
restjes zeep waarmee we onze handen wassen. Haar werk als multidisciplinair kunstenaar en
schrijver focust zich op fysieke vormen van herinneren en de manier waarop het dagelijks leven
in verband staat met rouw en verlies. Ze maakt gebruik van plaatsgebonden technieken en
landschaps-afhankelijke materialen, met een voorkeur voor brons, zeep, hout en papier. Haar
werk bestaat uit installaties, sculpturen, gedichten, voordrachten, prints en site-specific werk.
EN
Elisa Verkoelen works from the empty space in shells, the silence in conversations and the
leftovers of soap we wash our hands with. Her work as a multidisciplinary artist and writer
focuses on physical ways of remembrance and the relation between daily life and grief. She
uses site-specific techniques and landscape-dependent materials, with a preference for bronze,
soap, wood, and paper. Her work consists of installations, sculptures, poems, recitations, prints,
and site-specific work.
Tato Greve | Klinkers
Klinkers te koop
a e i o u — zo hinkel ik van de ene klinker op de andere. Elke klinker opent een andere ruimte in de mond, een andere vorm, een andere beweging van lucht. Ik ben gefascineerd door de klinker als bouwsteen: onmisbaar in de taal en op straat. Het woord klinker beweegt tussen klank en steen, tussen iets wat uitgesproken wordt en iets waar je overheen loopt. Ik probeer klank vast te houden, te bevriezen; de mond wordt mal, de klank wordt vorm. De taal als bouwpakket. Opgeborgen, gesorteerd, voorradig.
Kerya Mushimiyimana
The Soundtrack of Our City explores how we experience the places we live through sound and music. For its first edition, Pass Me The Aux focuses on Antwerp, collecting the sounds and music young people associate with the city. Through street interviews, conversations and field recordings, these different perspectives come together in a short audiovisual piece. This project is created by Pass Me The Aux, a music platform by Kerya Mushimiyimana, focused on connection and storytelling through music. PMTA is driven by a curiosity about how people experience music and how sharing music can open up conversations and bring people together.
Lize Maekelberg
Arne Verschaeren
Table for Two – Thank You for Your Patience
Table for Two – Thank You for Your Patience revises a scene I staged three years ago: two figures seated across from each other, their faces built from strangers’ features, endlessly reassembling. They talk without arriving anywhere, unable to remember what they are waiting for, or who is sitting across from them. The wait outlives whatever it was waiting for. The table has hosted a thousand other conversations before this one. Language itself keeps failing them – half-remembered phrases, borrowed registers, recombined and slightly wrong, static dressed up as memory. Nothing sticks long enough to add up; each exchange starts over, certain only that something was once promised. A stain spreads across the tablecloth. Horizons quietly cancel themselves. Something is owed, a ghost arrives instead. A missing tooth still shapes the tongue.
Brent Decraene
At the end of summer, as days get shorter and wind gets colder, travels seem further away and Instagram reveals who's been where. A single-use camera brought in for developing. 'The photos will be there in 1 week' says the cashier. At the interval between the drought and the rain, I want to convey a feeling. A fleeting feeling, depicted in stories, coming from movies, rarely seen by our generation in person. The people shown in these images are purely fictional and are meant to be filled in by your own memorized faces. A moment that resembles a dia night, the ones where people gathered to see your travels. To see how you rode camels in northern Africa, saw the world's tallest cactus in Mexico or the never-ending days of the North. These pictures are meant to be abstract memories; mine are fleeting too. Each year is getting further away from me. But as it seems now, I am hosting my first dia night.