THE HAPPINESS I FEEL - LEON VERMEULEN

There is a ‘storytelling’ tradition in visual art, although it might not have one specific definition to go by, and this is without referring to the magical art of book illustrators here. I am thinking about the narrative frescos Giotto painted in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua in the early 14th C depicting scenes from the Old and the New Testament and the life of Jesus. Although… that was inspired by a book too. The Bible. But I am thinking even more of those who painted their own life stories like Charlotte Salomon (1917-1943). She worked on her "Leben? oder Theater?" until she was executed by the Nazi’s at the age of 26. Leon paints his life too, with the books, the music and the films he loves informing his perception. He is not a young man anymore starting his diaries. He is a man with many years of flashbacks and jump cuts, all part of this body that draws and remembers himself drawing, seeing writing overlapping drawing, seeing his own solitude and reflection. The artist is the vulnerable figure, not only in the surroundings of home and hospital, not only walking down memory lane, but also in the landscapes of his dreams.

- Marlene Dumas 2024

Artist Statement:

"I chose the title for my exhibition from the extract by André Aciman. The melancholic tone speaks to me. Aciman also said: form is not for expressing experience. And I agree.

After reading his work, I wanted to paint ordinary things in a moving and touching way. Sunlight, wet sand, water and my dog’s shadow. It also brought me to memories and personal histories.

In 2020 I had open heart surgery and ended up staying in hospital for 5 weeks. It gave me time to do a lot of thinking and I realized it was not important anymore to make big statements or cutting-edge art or be part of the art discourse. It was fine to be an outsider.

In hospital I kept a sketchbook to kill time and keep fear at bay. Back at home drawings of other patients became little paintings. I started making small paintings of the sea, that I never made for my father, because I was too busy making what I thought was cutting edge and important art. There was no need anymore.

Now, at 67, I know that I will never be able to say or paint everything I want to. And I will never do it in the best way possible either. But that does not matter. I keep going, walking and painting. My work is about walking and painting, the body and its pleasures and failures. It is also about form and technique. Now it is about returning to where I started in childhood. Drawing and painting to be less afraid. Loving the failing body through painting."