paintings in heaven - hubert nijmegen - september 2021

With its function as a cultural breeding and meeting place for the neighbourhood, city and region, the Hubert Foundation connects artists, designers, scientists and the public by offering space to make art, research social themes and present the results thereof. In 2019 Bart Drost did a try-out of 'in paradiso'.

Now, two years later, he shows 'paintings in heaven' in the Hall 1 from Hubert and he gives the short performance 'Die Heimkehr, een ode aa Pina Bausch en de Jongen dan de Touwtjestrekkraam',
accompanied by Silvia Schildkamp (bassoon), René van Haren (trombone), Pink Tarenskeen & Maurice Willems (calling horn), DJ The O'Berlie and Luuk van de Laar (stage manager). The DAREbrothers filmed the entire spectacle.


paintings in heaven - hubert

From September 22 to 26, 2021, all 36 paintings from the series 'ik deed niets'    hang on ropes high in the sky above the cafe space that Hubert Nijmegen has furnished in Hall 1.


Die Heimkehr

In the beginning there was only the bold plan to hang the whole series of 36 paintings 'Ik deed niets'  high in the ceiling of Hubert's Hall 1.

Then the idea came up to let all the paintings come down. As an act, as an action, as a performance.

And from that idea sprang the small show 'Die Heimkehr, een ode aan Pina Bausch en aan de Jongen van de Touwtjestrekkraam'.


the standing paintings

The exhibition 'Paintings in Heaven' concluded with the short performance show 'Die Heimkehr, een ode aan Pina Bausch en de Jongen van de Touwtjestrekkraam'. As a result, the overall picture of the exhibition has undergone a true transformation: suddenly the Floating Boys stand on the floor.


back home - the story behind the exhibition


After a long year of waiting - finally - the time has come. He is coming!

A colorful procession of trucks enters the city. The cars painted with fantastic scenes in shamelessly clashing colors. They bring beautiful promises of spectacle and fun. Gather around the main market square and then slowly but steadily unpack it. Tough guys busy with planks and beams. High into the posts and tension ropes from left to right.

The Boy lives not far from there. In a quiet street where cars rarely drive. Less than a five minute walk from home to market. For him - after all, he is already nine! - a piece of cake. The Little Boy looks forward to the building up of the fair every year. He admires the muscular lugging and the constant running back and forth. He immensely enjoys the godless whining and the thunderous laugh that resounds across the square. But most of all he is looking forward to seeing him again.

How devilishly fast it all goes again: suddenly everything is in its familiar place. The caterpillar, the high Ferris wheel, the merry-go-rounds and the bumper cars. The candy stall well stocked with cinnamon sticks, red wine balls and soft nougat blocks. And don't forget the freshly twisted cotton candy. Pink as it is. Long ribbons with lights are hung everywhere, exuberant decorations have been applied, the sound installations have been tested again. The merry go rounds are doing their last test round. Let the customers come now! One more round! Three balls for a quarter! Children always prize!

Our Boy knows his way around the fair like his own pocket. He knows where all the stalls are standing and knows very well where to go. But he doesn't go straight for his target. He prefers to take a detour. Don't get to it right now. Not yet. And there - look! - there is the stall where treasures are up for grabs: a harmonica, the set with bow and arrows, the plastic water pistol. And of course there is also his favorite: the funny monkey, made of feathers and fur. But that should never be taken home because 'there are definitely fleas in it'.

A large hand holds reaches out the bundle of ropes to him. One pull and the loot is in. You always know what you want. You never know what you'll get. The big hand belongs to a father and there is also a mother in the stall. In the front left corner - yes, there he is - stands the son. Ten years now, maybe eleven, and still beautiful. Just like last year, our Little Boy just gets warm and soft inside. He averts his eyes, though he doesn't want to. His nose fills with the strangely familiar smell of sweltering sweat mingled with that of dust and mothballs. And immediately there is again that unutterable wish: I want to go with the fair! To join the guy from the tug-of-war. Out into the wide world together.

In the distance, father's call is heard. The Boy turns resolutely and walks back home. Away from the boy, his friend. Full of longing and forever in love.

 Back to archive 


Bart Drost

free artist

Graafseweg 183a
6531ZR Nijmegen
The Netherlands