turning pages
On Sunday 26 September at 7.30 pm the exhibition 'Paintings in Heaven' at Hubert in Nijmegen will concluded with a performance of roughly 25 minutes. 36 paintings from the series 'ik deed niets' played a leading role in this, 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.
home
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.
