Quinn Vermeersch
(They/Them, 1993, Belgium) is a ‘Cheminot.e’ and art student At Luca School of Arts Brussels. Economist & part-time existential (adult) performer. Part-time barmaid, part-time doorbitch, but in any case full time passionate at heart.
Living in the void of full-time working at the railways, and hence fighting an everlasting-battle between time rosters, they came up with the project/painting ‘*ANA*, A Queer lovestory’, dealing with this shortage of time and means whilst being confronted with a very vivid reality in times of ‘confinement’.
As an autodidact they started painting very early, and Is now working on a collection of paintings following in some line the mantra of Kerry James Marshall. In this most recent collection, they are rebranding cities and destinations with design from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s; which were the golden age for Belgian (Public) Transport. These paintings find their core in an imagery of Belgian landscapes and are often combined with at the time cis-models, corresponding to the view of that era.
While having been a visual artist for a very long time, these times demand something more direct, and it is exactly that energy that made them lean towards the performative arts.
With this performance and presentation of visuals, they don’t want to teach people economics, but at the least offer some insight, and launch some train of thoughts. And finally, with this proposal, they’d love to offer something that can maybe heal a number of people - contextualising the suffering we all went and still going through the past months, years, and, generations in some cases.
*ANA*
‘A Queer lovestory’
Lockdown has been hard for everyone, even harder for some. This challenge has been going on for a year, and increases inequalities on a big level. This inequality has a lot of dimensions, and one of the dimensions recently discussed is mental health. However, these discussions are in some way always dismissed from the actual discussion. Economic inequality, the lack of green accessible urban spaces, the lack of workspace, the lack of the voices of so many marginalised people. Besides that, there also has been a polarised discussion about who is useful, essential to society. Needless to say, artists don’t make the cut.
Why art when we can have Xanax? Why go to a doctor or psychologists -and take the place of someone who might need care more than you- when you can have an extra beer or cig (It’s much cheaper anyway)?
It’s these thoughts that makeup ‘*ANA*, A Queer Love Story’. It’s the first painting of this format made by Quinn in over a year, made on a canvas found in the basement of their apartment, left there by the previous owner, who told them they made it whilst having a difficult phase. And thence the journey begins, the paintings are covered first with à Keith Harring-like image, and then slowly, layer by layer worked to be finally one of those classic illustrations used in glamorous travel campaigns of rail and air. The Atlantic Ocean, with the artist, their boyfriend and Poï, their friend’s dog, running towards liberty.
The process is messy, The ‘Cassandra Effect’ flowing through the veins of the artist. The canvas, damaged from the beginning, but hence the relevance of it in a queer portraying.
Unlike the mantra of Cis, Heterosexual, or Perfect love stories, ours are starting with most of us already being damaged. Trauma, healing and community give us the power to restore, to integrate this into a narrative. But it’s not an easy one. This love, these journeys we undertake, the conflicts that arise, they won’t be able to be fixed by some (marriage/relationship) counselling, as Western narratives often like to portray. Some wounds are too deep, some battles so though, some constraints. Unlike the Good Person/Bad Person stereotype often found in heterosexual, and upper-middle-class LGBTQI* representations of love, sometimes we just get stuck. We’re addicted. We have financial problems. We are suffocating in a world tending more and more to socio-economic apartheid.
Hence the paradox of the painting, whilst it looks peaceful, it’s partly broken, and even the artist doesn’t know how many moons the image will last.
There’s hair, there are spats of beer and coffee, there are some mistakes considering the visual.
But in the end, it’s real.
‘*ANA*, A Queer Lovestory’
Oil on Canvas
100,00 x 120,00 cm
