One might begin, in preparing to assemble a text on the highly
evolutionary work of Belgian artist Narcisse Tordoir (born in 1954),
which spans over four decades, by stating a word which sets
the tone, the key term that unravels self-generative paths and
simultaneous weaves: the word “flow”. By observing Narcisse
Tordoir’s complex work as a whole, we are confronted with a flooding
river that tremendously runs. At times slowing down to meet other
influxes and new elements, and then retreating, changing direction,
opening up unusual paths, each time welcoming new and increasingly
articulated ways of expression, as well as atypical iconographic
entities. Far from creating futile tangles, fluidly, they manage to
dance together in an aesthetic rhythm that takes the word to the
word and decants not the pure form, but the image in all its historical
complexity scrutinised and sniffed from the moment of its very
formation, and then questioned from an ontological point of view until
reaching the bustle of meanings that the modern world has assigned
to it. Tordoir is certainly known for having broken pre-existing
models, mainly his own; his productive ardour is punctuated by
methodological deaths and rebirths that stimulate the internal
energy of his research, always spurring new impulses of renewal.
This is how his polyphonic choreographies, in which the chromatic
language enters an intimate conversation with the abstract form,
while the vaguely figurative elements filter current events through the
remnants of representations belonging to various cultural spheres,
are born. The group of works Z.T., among others, developed between
2019 and 2020 and presented in the exhibition, seem to make up a
further evolutionary step in the artist’s prolific production. Indeed,
compared to the early works in which fields of pure colour, geometry
and enigmatic signs interacted, and to later works characterised by
the collage technique, in which fragments were stacked one on top
of the other and in which no hierarchy distinguished the abstract
compositions from the colour fields, the spatial supports from the
cut-out images, we can now observe a more mature methodological
result, in which everything appears decidedly more relaxed, where
colour has already shouted out its value amidst the intricacies full of
hermeneutic references and each element, though vivid, carves out
its own moment in the crowd: People.
Text by Domenico de Chirico
Translated from Italian by Colombe Fassin
Peoples, Peoples, Peoples
In the opening of Jimi Hendrix’s cover of Elmore James’ Bleeding Heart,
he seems to mispronounce the words “Peoples, Peoples, Peoples”
as double plurals. The lyrics of the original song are ‘People, People,
People’ and Hendrix does use the correct form later on in his version,
hinting on the fact that he was aware of this deviation. Was Hendrix
addressing an entire population group, as the translation of the word
peoples implies? Blues musicians were by no means averse to some
boasting and big talk with a healthy dose of humour. In doing so they
claimed their spot within the ‘established’ music culture. Therefore,
“Peoples, Peoples, Peoples” is perhaps not only a sigh, which goes
hand in hand with the blues, but also a relational statement.
In addition to his in-situ solo exhibition PEOPLE at TICK TACK,
Narcisse Tordoir collaborated with graffiti artist Yvon Tordoir, better
known as RiseOne. The result is a permanent work of art in the public
space, a painted tram stop pavilion, strategically located opposite
the art space designed by Léon Stynen, which already has its own
specific facade. The tram stop across the street is part of a key
transfer point for commuters in Antwerp. The front of the building
highlights the exhibition title disguised as the DHL logo. This is a
reference, among other things, to the transport of people as if they
are goods. The backside depicts some creatures, waiting for the
tram. Yvon Tordoir’s waiting animals are in turn depicted against a
graffiti-stained wall, possibly a nod to the dirty image of street art. In
its entirety, the work functions as the stage of a theatre, commenting
on its own ongoing play. Sometimes big gestures and bold winks
are necessary to draw our attention to, for example, ourselves,
the people. Will the commuters at this tram stop-turned-public
artwork be aware of the decor they themselves are a part of? Or will
the decor, the People painted by these two artists, merge into an
unsuspecting crowd.
In any case, Narcisse Tordoir is referring to you and I, since he
himself is standing solitarily across the street. The artworks of this
exhibition oversee the graffiti spectacle from behind TICK TACK’s
high vitrine window. These witnesses, however, are neither silent nor
compassionate. The artist translates his observations into a blatant
sense of monumentality. Every now and then a good stirring of the
pot can catch our gaze and hopefully inspire us. Tordoir’s attractive
visual language is a way of seducing us and sometimes give a slap on
the wrist.
Some visual artists try to construct a kind of dam, a stillness or even
rigidity regarding the extensive flow of images with which we are
confronted. Tordoir once noted that for him reality is an endless
source of images.1 At TICK TACK, he is presenting himself as a
Luftmensch, a man of smoke, unwilling to comply. A free mind that doesn’t rely solely on intellectual references but on the image itself
which, ultimately, cannot be restrained by logical terminologies. He
bombards us with razor sharp images of current affairs without, at
any moment, the need to be discursive. For Tordoir, it’s all about a
kind of logic that only unfolds through images. Although derived from
reality, these images are completely reconstructed. In this case, the
image as method is of great importance since the artist’s practice
is not based on a concept but directly on an image. Tordoir is not
producing manifestos and the original image must always undergo a
transformation.
Most of the works are untitled because the use of language could
distort our gaze. How can one come up with a name for something
that is, and must remain, so fragmented. A title could diminish the
work and turn it into something tangible, something Tordoir seems
to want to counteract. Of course he offers a helping hand by using
recognizable images, but places them next to formal geometrical
forms. For example, the work (Untitled) which features the black wall
painting: a man (with the divine name Divino!) is carrying a television
set, next to the image of an androgynous model. That which could
be attributed a literal meaning by the viewer is being disrupted by
the artist through the jet-black, distorted shadow of a projection that
hangs menacingly over the work. Ultimately, the work interlinks with a
series of constructed variables, which might have a different meaning
for each viewer. Narcisse Tordoir’s variables cannot be captured in
a clearly defined airtight language, he’s after all a man of smoke, and
invites us to be one as well. The image grabs him and not the other
way around. His ego is subordinate. There’s still room for the other.
Sometimes, the artist reveals his source material, which results in
works that are a little more explicit, for example the work with the
red pallet. From our conversations it became clear that an Iranian
refugee once tried to cross the ocean on a pallet. The man didn’t
make it and his identity remained unknown until a journalist got hold
of his mobile phone which had a selfie on it. Tordoir placed a negative
print of the portrait in the middle of his work. The man is staring at us
through some sort of filter. It’s a fateful story and a raw image which
sensitive viewers can censor with a red sliding panel. Meanwhile,
George Orwell’s 84, is dotted around the work as a warning. Linking
this work to the graffiti across the street, Tordoir seems to envision
a (clandestine) DHL service for people, more precisely emigrants. It
might even be a more humane alternative than the cur-rent situation
where people attempt to make the crossing in boats not fitted for
sea. This is of course no solution, only a sigh reflected in an image.
Peoples, peoples, peoples (my oh my).
Hilde Borgermans, May 2021
Translated from Dutch by Mathias Swings
Narcisse Tordoir (Mechelen, 1954) is a visual artist who lives and
works in Antwerp, Belgium. He works with various media, ranging
from drawings, prints and paintings to photography and installations.
Through this, seemingly effortless, versatility, Tordoir digs into
historical references to painting, while at the same time placing
himself outside of the medium. With an explicit focus on the act of perception, his well thought-out and complex image montages
challenge the intersections between romanticism and reality,
between history and current affairs.
Tordoir’s practice spans over four decades with exhibitions at Paleis
voor Schone Kunsten, Brussels; Venice Biennial, Belgian Pavilion;
Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo; Centraal Museum, Utrecht; M HKA,
Antwerp; Koninklijke Musea voor Schone Kunsten, Brussels; Museum
Plantin Moretus, Antwerp; CC Strombeek; SMAK, Ghent; Roger
Raveel Museum and Emergent, Veurne.
Tordoir’s works are included in museum collections such as M HKA, Antwerp; Mu. ZEE, Ostend; SMAK, Ghent; Stedelijk Museum,
Amsterdam; Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo and Centraal Museum,
Utrecht.
