THE DECLINE (2016)
"The 'Decline': An Artistic Reflection on Fragility, Authority, and Human Struggles"
Weighing a substantial sixty tons, 'The Decline' is an intricate installation that takes the form of a massive house of cards, creatively crafted using nine concrete playing cards. Its towering dimensions, standing at thirty-five feet tall and spanning nineteen and a half feet in width, make the artwork a strikingly sizeable structure.
Unconventionally, the recognizable symbols typically seen on playing cards have been replaced with a thoughtfully chosen array of historical figures, world leaders, and dictators. This contrast between familiar faces and the delicate structure of the cards serves as a metaphor, representing the delicate balance of various political, philosophical, and religious viewpoints that shape human perspectives and global outlooks. By incorporating the concept of concrete walls into the construction, the installation also draws a connection to the historical and contemporary use of barriers for political purposes, adding another layer of meaning to the artwork and its message about the consequences of dogma and authoritarian rule.
The title of the piece, "The Decline," introduces an element of uncertainty, inviting contemplation on whether the house of cards is still being built or if it's on the brink of collapsing. Through this uncertainty, the artist prompts us to consider essential questions about societal progress and the adaptability of human society. The unique design of the card arrangement, with its lack of traditional vertical stability, captures a suspended state that symbolizes the ongoing tension between progress and regression, effectively illustrating the complexities inherent in the evolution of societies.
Censorship (2017):
Upon the installation's unveiling, the artist found themselves embroiled in a contentious episode following an impassioned telephone call from the city's mayor. Expressing vehement offense at the inclusion of the Hitler card within the installation, the mayor directed municipal personnel to enshroud the card in plastic. This decision was ostensibly motivated by the municipality's historical scars, having endured significant tribulations during the Second World War. Subsequent to this act of censorship, news of the incident reverberated through national media channels, catalyzing a collective response from the city's populace.
In a display of civic dissent, the citizens of the municipality undertook a clandestine operation, clandestinely dismantling the plastic encasement under the cover of nightfall. The ensuing crescendo of public sentiment placed mounting pressure upon the artist and local authorities. Notably, the artist, steadfast in their commitment to artistic integrity and the preservation of free expression, remained resolute in their refusal to acquiesce to the mayor's demands.
Ultimately, the installation persevered in its unaltered configuration, emblematic of an unwavering commitment to the sanctity of artistic discourse and freedom of expression. Subsequent to this tempestuous period, a year elapsed, and the installation garnered augmented recognition. In a gesture that underscored the newfound appreciation for the work, permanent illumination was installed, affording the populace an opportunity to engage with the artwork during nocturnal hours, thereby accentuating the significance of the installation within the public domain.
Vandalism (2024):
After remaining untouched for eight years, the artwork was vandalized at night by an individual from the city's mental institution, using acrylic paint. The artist chose not to file a complaint with the police; however, the city did. One month later, the artist restored the artwork to its original state.
Text by Tom Simons.
Photos by Erik Jamar, Jelle Sterkmans.