Krijn de Koning (Amsterdam 1963) studied art at the Rietveld Academy (NL), De Ateliers (NL) and the 'Institut Des Hautes Etudes En Art Plastique' (FR). Since the 1990s, he has been creating site-specific sculptures and installations for exhibitions, museums, galleries and public places.

In your work, you discuss the experience of spaces and how, by making various interventions, you can change them for the visitor. How did you work for (Un) Monumenting? What (new) experience of the North Strip in the NDSM Loods did you have in mind?

It's not so much my goal to change a space and make it experience differently for others, it's more of a means and an attempt to 'really' look at a space again, or if you like. Sometimes you have to ruin or even ridicule something for that. For me, art is largely about “watching”. A priori, this is not directly a mental or formal thing. That is why aspects such as' feeling ', intuition and a certain directness are important to me. Rational thinking is certainly interesting, but in my opinion, that comes after it.

For the exhibition (Un) Monumenting, I initially mainly looked at space. It is already monumental in itself and that is mainly due to its enormous volume. But what you actually see is the limit of the volume, which is enormously unsettling, a total cacophony of current and historical details with all kinds of different meanings.

The 'Un-Monumenting' consists in the fact that I attack the objects.

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The sparse details and objects that are still part of the original space are somewhat dwarfed in the current situation. My idea and feeling was that it would be interesting to highlight some of the warehouse's original objects. This ultimately happens in two works, one for a large lifting beam that hangs high in the ridge, and one for an old magnetic crane, which also hangs in the air. Both objects are 'framed' by me in a temporary architectural setting.

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How do you think the work In Here/up there, two works for (Un) Monumenting relates to the subject of “monuments”?

You can say that the NDSM warehouse is an (architectural) monument and that the few sparse original objects that are now functionless are a kind of reminder of that warehouse's' grand 'past and are therefore also a kind of monuments to it. You increase the attention for a monument by placing a large pedestal underneath it. On the one hand, that's what's in my two works happens, and what you might associate with the idea of 'Monumenting'. The objects and what they stood for are “lifted”. The 'Un-Monumenting' consists in the fact that I attack the objects. For me, this is mainly about trying to rid them of their conditioning and meaning again.

Do you think monuments are still relevant in contemporary society? And if so, what should monuments look like, and who should they be for?

One of the classic ideas for a monument is to link a person to a major historical act and then create an image of it, but monuments are also created as a result of grand, impressive events. Logically, such an image is always exaggerated, serves a social, political or other interest and rigidly appeals to an often not entirely realistic reality.

What you actually and especially see in the NDSM Loods is precisely the limitation of the volume

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It's hard to get away from that in more modern versions. Regardless of whether you agree with the reason for a monument or not, I usually find it quite grotesque and kitch, and not immediately very pleasant and human. When it comes to very serious matters, I'm more in favour of very dry and modest monuments, but that conflicts a bit with his own idea.

(Un) monumenting: The Future Should Always Be Better can be seen on the outside of the NDSM shipyard and inside the NDSM Loods until February 18. For more information, click the button below.

Elsemarijn Bruys (1989, NL) is a visual artist with a strong curiosity about sensory perception. In her hybrid practice, she alternates between sculptures and architectural interventions, but the spatial experience is always her starting point. She works primarily with inflatables and kinetic mirrors.

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My background in fashion has influenced my material and sculptural work to a great extent.

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Elsemarijn, how would you describe yourself as an artist? What does your practice look like?

Messy 🙂

Haha check. For the exhibition (Un) monumenting, you are creating a new work, called Volume 20.0. How do you see this work in the context of the (Un) monumenting theme?

I am interested in how space and material influence each other and the effect this has on the existing architecture. With Volume 2.0 I'm creating a cube of air that seems to be bursting at the seams and fighting for space. Trapped between the pillars and the ceiling of the industrial warehouse, the semi-transparent inflatable simultaneously seems to let the environment through while blocking the view. The work is part of my research into how space can be deformed by a temporary intervention that affects human movement. In addition, refers Volume 2.0 about who and what can take up space when there is only limited space and themes such as changeability and temporality, which often form the basis of my practice. This is in line with the theme of (Un) monumenting: who can take up space in public space? Who should feel represented?

To continue “fighting for space”, the architecture and the material you choose work together. Volume 2.0 can be seen in the NDSM Loods, how does it relate to this location specifically?

The work is firmly embedded in the structure of the NDSM Loods. As a result, there is an emphasis on the gigantic scale in which you are when you enter the NDSM Loods. At the same time, the object is also of a large scale, and clasped into the pillars of the Underscate, the space takes on a different character. When you come Volume 2.0 when you walk around, you see the edges of the pillow pressing against the pillars of the NDSM Loods, almost as if it were about to splash. It gives an ominous, but also a soft feeling. The semi-transparent material also contributes to this.

I ask a lot of questions when it comes to “taking up” public space.

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You just said that temporality and changeability are recurring themes in your work. Words that also apply to NDSM; a place full of projects that exist in temporality, a place of movement. Can you explain what interests you about these themes?

The inflatables that I make only exist by virtue of the given air: a “material” that always surrounds us without us seeing it. By filling a bag with that material, the object suddenly takes up space. In that sense, my work is temporary; it exists by the grace of air.

With the exhibition (Un) monumenting, we also want to open up the conversation about monuments in general. What are your own ideas about what monuments should be and for whom, or if they should be there at all?

I ask a lot of questions when it comes to “taking up” public space. I like to go to places where supposedly everyone goes, such as a station. What everyone uses for a purpose without interfering too much with differences in cult and culture. They are, as it were, anonymous spaces. I hope those places are not about claiming space, because I think that's a complicated topic. Whose street is it and which monument can rightfully stand there? Who does it stand for? I myself see many sculptures in public spaces as images of time and I am very happy that there are more and more different monuments for many more different people/groups/cultures.

Check out the work Volume 2.0 by Elsemarijn Bruys during the exhibition (Un) monumenting: The Future Should Always Be Better, on view until February 18, Tue to Sun from 11:00 — 18:00 at the outdoor area of the NDSM shipyard and in the NDSM Loods.

On November 4, during Museum Night Amsterdam, Acket will use the philosophical concept of borders as the starting point for a work of light and sound at NDSM. The work can only be seen this evening. Time for a catch up with this versatile artist.

In your installations, all kinds of disciplines come together to create an experience together. As an artist, this now gives you a recognizable style that continues to develop. How would you describe your own practice, the point where you are as an artist right now?

My practice has always had sound as a starting point. In the beginning, this was always' musical 'sound; in recent years, this has changed more and more in the sound of the installations: sound that is characterized by the rules, parameters and boundaries of the artwork itself. In my work at NDSM, for example, I will use my echo system, a system that I developed with a classmate at art school and then developed into a complex instrument with percussion in The Hague, among others, into a complex instrument that develops an endlessly drastic effect of duplicates in light and sound from a single sound source.

The cool thing about this very temporary work is that it will be located in a place that is very dear to me, the Docklands and the NDSM Loods at NDSM. A few years ago, I made SKYLINE I in the North Strip, in collaboration with 4DSOUND and Bob Roijen, among others. This work was also located in a transition area, above an entrance where 20,000 people had to go through every day anyway.

Where does your inspiration come from?

I love philosophy, science and human issues about their own consciousness. I think that experiential or phenomenal art is the ultimate way to trigger people's thoughts. Time, and our experience of it, fascinate me enormously. How a person, with all her memories and expectations, always constructs their own 'now', completely different from that of the person next to her, them or him, just because you have a different background and a different expectation for tomorrow, fascinates me immensely.

Time, and our experience of it, fascinate me enormously. How a person, with all her memories and expectations, always constructs their own “now”.

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In the experiences I make, I often notice that the conversations between visitors or participants afterwards are very interesting. The shared experience of a new ritual — for example in an ultrasound piece in collaboration with Slagwerk Den Haag — can remove social boundaries. Although everyone has seen, experienced, and constructed a completely different experience, everyone who shared the experience can still talk to each other and sometimes even come closer to each other.

Impression of Boris Acket's work on NDSM, credits anna bogmolova, blitzkickers

My practice — just like it always was — is actually still very diverse. From theater scenography to a full exhibition, and from a show for a pop idol to a temporary sound light tunnel like this one at NDSM. For me, the constant lies more in themes and thoughts than in media and project form, and I love that.

Your work has been shown in clubs such as De School and festivals such as DGTL and Down The Rabbit Hole, as well as in public spaces such as the upcoming Museumn8. What fascinates you about working in the public domain?

When it comes to this specific work, I am reminded of the theme of PASSAGE — a work I made at the shipyard last year in collaboration with Bob Roijen. I then found a book by Thomas Nail about borders:

“Fundamentally, boundaries are inflection points where flows change direction. Any social construct — fence, wall, passport, browsing history — that changes people's movements is part of the social kinetics of borders.

It follows from this definition that borders are not about stopping things from moving, they are about movement itself.” — freely after Thomas Nail

I think this is the ultimate definition of public space. Public space is full of man-made borders, temporary villages that call themselves festivals, barricades that function as a doorway again a day later. NDSM is one such area, and I think it's very important that we cherish and preserve these kinds of areas. That is why I am so close to that with the theme of the work on 4 November.

In the experiences I make, I often notice that the conversations between visitors or participants afterwards are very interesting. The shared experience of a new ritual can remove social boundaries

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The sounds that run through the echo system all come from the environment itself — I go out in the week of the museum night with a field recorder. This way, the work becomes a kind of feedback loop that suddenly makes the tranquil place a little more important. Acoustic ecologist Gordon Hempton — someone I worked with a few years ago — aptly said that everything you put a microphone on becomes more important. You could say that in this journey, you spend a moment listening and watching a self-manifesting piece of living NDSM, in light and sound.

As with all my works, the exact meaning may not be very interesting, but the conversations and interpretations of people who have walked the procession: ultimately, it's about them.

Art on the ferry from CS

Your Museum Night 2023 starts on ferry F4 from Amsterdam CS to NDSM. It Amsterdam Ferry Festival at Museum Night, in collaboration with the Van Gogh Museum, presents how the changing city is a subject that fascinates artists. Six contemporary photographers (Sem Langendijk, Hans Boddeke, Simone Peerdeman, Anna Swagerman, Hanane El Ouardani, Sanja Marusic) who capture today's Amsterdam with their cameras have been invited to make new work. The ferry between CS and the NDSM site will become their 'canvas' from 4 November during Museum Night. For this presentation, they are not only inspired by the frayed edges along the IJ, but also by the paintings that Van Gogh and his contemporaries made of the transition areas around Paris.

In addition to watching these images, you can also listen to a spoken-word performance at the point between NDSM and CS by Luna Wicks between 19:00 — 20:00. Under the musical accompaniment of musician Froodough (Daniel Lee), this duo takes you into a story about the changing city.

Grand light installation by Boris Acket

NDSM-werf Foundation and Kinetic North Foundation will present two site-sensitive works during Museum Night, to be seen and listened to on this evening only. Boris Acket creates a grand passage that plays with the notion of boundaries, an installation of light and sound that connects the outdoor area with the interior of the NDSM Loods. The soundscape's echo system is powered by field recordings made around NDSM in the weeks before the event. We had a conversation with Boris about his work at NDSM during Museumnacht, you can find the entire interview in our online magazine.

With music specially composed for NDSM, Off-Track adds an extra layer to the environment, the water and the monumental buildings, and allows you, as a visitor, to experience NDSM in a different way.

New Dakota Art Space

Bee New Dakota you can immerse yourself in love and what love means. Artist duo Tengbeh Kamara & Sophie Engels take you on a loving journey into the exhibition Yes, I Do where you can also have yourself and your loved one (whether that's your partner, family member, or pet) captured. You can immediately take the polaroid photo, which is taken by the artists, as a witness to your special band.

During the evening, artist Marieke van Rooy, also one of the participating artists in the exhibition, will Yes, I Do, be present to perform an ongoing performance. In addition, New Dakota also organizes a silent disco where you can let your (and your loved one's) feet off the floor.

Restaurant and art space Contrast

Bee Contrast celebrate the wonders of the water. Immerse yourself in conceptual cocktails and delectable snacks while listening to live DJs, and descend into an exhibition exploring Symbiosis' intricate dance in a project by Italian photographer Giacomo d'Orlando. Learn how more than 3 billion people depend on marine ecosystems for their livelihoods and consider the delicate balance that is being disrupted by climate change and overfishing. An evening of music, art, and awareness.

STRAAT Museum

STRAAT, the largest street art museum in Europe, also opens its doors during Museum Night. In addition to wandering around among the impressive murals, you can also have several artists at work live on this evening. Do you prefer to take control of the spray can yourself? Participate in a collective work of art and let your creativity run wild.

So a lot to do at NDSM during Museum Night! Do you still want to know more about the program of other museums for this special evening? A special “Route Noord” has also been put together so that you can see all the gems of Amsterdam North during Museum Night. Click the button below for more information.

A pop-up exhibition, spatial installation or a performance; the interpretation is open. The idea is to open up and make working in public spaces, outside a white cube setting, more accessible. This year is Anne-Jet de Nas invited as Young Curator. On Thursday, September 28, 2023, she will program a performance with Henk Schut's work IN TUNE, a bronze tuning fork in the water of the Y-slope at NDSM that addresses the balance between people and the environment. Time to get to know this young Amsterdam curator better and hear all about the program she wants to show at NDSM.

Anne-Jet, can you tell us about yourself and your background?

I've been fascinated by art, fashion and design all my life. As a creator and as an observer. That's why I graduated from ArtEZ (a Dutch University of the Arts, ed.) and took a Master's degree in Art History. To learn how to use my creativity more broadly and commercially, I worked as a creative at an advertising agency. With these experiences, I learned to speak the language of the artist, art and the wider public. And I call myself a creative translator. Someone who connects and builds bridges. Someone who listens, watches, thinks and translates. Someone who brings ideas to life.

Nowadays, you work, among other things, as an independent curator, for example, you have the exhibition this summer About.Life. co-curated at Sexyland World. Which artists or works inspire you?

Yes, that's right. In collaboration with artist, curator and collector Appie Bood, an (un) retrospective exhibition has been made of his art and collections. The most important point of this was that we completely let go of time and chronology in order to arrive at new insights and installations. Along with Sexyland World we turned these ideas into a physical exhibition.

Apart from the fact that working with Appie Bood (and his wife Agata Zwierzyñska, also a good artist!) inspiring me, I also recently developed a fascination for the American painter and musician Issy Wood. Her work evokes a melancholic, powerful feeling in me. She paints everyday objects in a tangible yet anonymous way. Because she often paints with oil paint on velvet fabric, her work becomes almost fetishistic. I find it fascinating how she attracts but also repels with her work.

I am very curious about the future of NDSM, and about the future of sanctuaries like this in the city

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You will soon be curating an intervention at NDSM with Henk Schut's work IN TUNE. How do you know NDSM as a terrain, what is your association with the place?

Hmm, a tough question! My association with NDSM varies. For me, the NDSM symbolises creativity, freedom and autonomy on the one hand. The history of NDSM as a sanctuary shows that you can make big changes with art and literally take up space to give art a voice. But on the other hand, for me, this place also stands for urban LED culture regeneration, or gentrification through art. In a way, art and artists at the NDSM are also an instrument for (cultural) policy and gentrification in this urban district.

Fortunately, the NDSM-werf Foundation is carefully considering the impact that gentrification has on the original function of this site. It is important that a place like NDSM continues to strive to be a place to thrive as a person and an artist, and not to become a particular urban experience. I am very curious about the future of NDSM, and about the future of free spaces in the city. Where there used to be room to claim a free spot, this is more difficult today. I therefore hope that the city takes care of this place.

Your intervention focuses on the work of Henk Schut, an installation of a tuning fork in the dock near the Y slope. What was your first impression of the work when you saw and heard it for the first time?

Yes, the big iron tuning fork in the dock. I really like the installation to blend in with the environment, as if it has always been there. Coincidentally, the sound of IN TUNE sounded right away the first time I was there. A low frequency spread across the Y slope, which also subsided. To be honest, I felt a bit awkward for a moment. What exactly should I feel? I became aware of myself for a moment. Henk's work is about finding a new balance between people and the environment. And it took a while for the sound to work on me, but I later realized that experiencing this conscious awkward feeling might be the goal.

The city seems to be overcrowded in many ways, and IN TUNE calls on us to think about this.

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Can you take us into your creative process; how did you end up with an idea?

After my first impression, I started to delve into Henk Schut's work. What does he want to achieve with the work? I particularly noticed two aspects here; firstly, the appeal to people's ability to hear and listen through sound. Secondly, with this installation, he asks questions about the value of emptiness, both in the city, at the NDSM shipyard, and in ourselves. This value of emptiness also inherently reveals the problems of our city. The city seems to be overcrowded in many ways, and IN TUNE calls on us to think about this. These insights were the starting point of my own creative process.

Because the city, the immediate surroundings and the people in the city are at the center of Henk's work and are connected by a sound, I thought it would be nice to follow this up by having a voice respond to this sound. A voice that can expand and question the underlying ideas of the work.

It's the first time you're curating a performance in the public space, what makes that context different from what you're used to?

I've only just started my own business and this is indeed the first time I'm curating a performance in the public space. What makes this different, for example, from the exhibition at Sexyland World that ran over several weeks, is that I now have to think about how to create a powerful story and a lasting impression within a much shorter period of time.

What are you looking forward to the most?

I think I would formulate it as 'the moment of the transfer'; the moment N TUNE creates a new work of art, Ray's spoken word performance. I'm looking forward to seeing Ray's words and how they resonate with me and the audience in their own way. Just like Henk's sound does it in its own way.

Daniele, can you tell us a little bit about yourself and your background?

I was born in 1985 in San Francisco, California. I moved to New York City to study at the Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art and graduated in 2007. Since then, I've stayed in New York, and I currently live between Manhattan and the rural north of the state. Here I have a studio where I sculpt, draw and write. My work usually deals with the politics inherent to public art itself, within that framework I address topics such as gender inequality, the difference between public and private space, and the definition of ownership.

Can you explain the idea behind the work 'It Takes Two'?

'It Takes Two' is a piece that uses the material language of advertising to address issues of cooperation, miscommunication, the politics of urban development, and the use of public space. As undermines many of my works, 'It Takes Two” familiar images to humorously encourage people to think about complex issues — in this case the relationship between art and gentrification. As the hammer and nail try ceaselessly to carry out their goal (the hammer that hits the nail on the head), their unfortunate movements and repeated failures comically signal to passers-by that on the empty lot they occupy, construction activities are “really coming soon”. Unlike an ad for a car shop or a car wash, these anthropomorphic figures announce the futility of their own message: that change is imminent and there is nothing you can do about it.

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'It Takes Two' is now available on NDSM. We found it interesting to exhibit your work in the context of the former shipyard, but also with current housing developments on NDSM-West and the relationship between those two identities with the many artists who now have their studios and maker spaces in this area. But It Takes Two has also been shown at other locations, can you delve deeper into these locations and what they mean in the context of this work?

'It Takes Two' was originally designed specifically to be installed on a vacant lot in Miami, Florida, that was intended to be developed into luxury real estate. While the circumstances of the occasion were unique, the phenomenon of gentrification is universal, contributing to the portable nature of the work. Other locations asked for the work to be shown because the message, while nihilistic, uses humor to appeal to viewers who wouldn't normally think about the politics of empty public space.

The work is an intentional “vulgar extravaganza”

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The work has been shown at Socrates Sculpture Park (a former landfill that has now become a public art site), The Oxbow School (an interdisciplinary high school boarding program in the rapidly gentrifying Napa Valley), Central Park (a man-made piece of nature), Sweet Pass Sculpture Park (an artist-run nonprofit site in a vacant lot in Dallas, Texas), and City Hall in Boynton Beach, Florida (not far from affluent West Palm Beach and Mar-a-Lago, areas that are seriously threatened by rising sea levels due to climate change).

You have 'A Vital Mess' created especially for the NDSM context, can you share your ideas behind this work with us?

'“A Vital Knife” is my first text-based work. The title comes from Learning From Last Vegas by Roberts Venturi, Denise Scott Brown, and Steven Izenour, a groundbreaking architectural text that formally explores the postmodern architecture and signage of the Las Vegas comic in the context of the history of architecture in general. Equipment closes'“A Vital Knife” similar to many of my public kinetic and wind-based works because of the convenient ability to reach a monumental physical scale (8 meters high in this case) with hollow volumes such as these. Since my work in the past has undermined the typical associations of the materials I use (plastic-based performance textiles for outdoor use), '“A Vital Knife” also the thing itself: a roadside ad — visual pollution — designed to make people stop and watch. To quote Robert Venturi again: “The play is an intentional 'vulgar extravaganza'”. Instead of criticizing capitalism's visual and material language sideways, this hodgepodge of “sky dancers” loudly proclaim themselves as a monument to the stickiness and tactlessness of contemporary ways of persuasion and seduction. The human-like forms and anthropomorphic movements reflect the viewer; they are a mirror. The culture has been hypnotized by these omnipresent roadside spectacles that look like us, which is why we recognize ourselves in them. We are the ad and the ad is us.

Both works use a medium that is often used for advertising purposes: the “sky dancers”. Why do you specifically use this medium?

What undermines the material and shape of these objects is the text. I specifically chose phrases and words that are vague, philosophical, open and confrontational. The messages on both sides of the sky dancers are contradictory. The entire “system” that dictates the rules of this piece is intended to challenge the principles of advertising but ironically deliver the same in the sense that I propose that the promises of the visual capitalist lexicon are empty. These promise everything and nothing. These types of signs indicate desperate and cheap requests for attention, but what I present are the signs as the destination itself, imploring the viewer to expect one thing from afar, only to see that expectation distorted upon investigation: an 8-meter-long figure adorned with TRUTH, APPEARANCE, SHAPE, CONTENT. I ask the viewer, what is the truth and content of the shape and appearance of our commercial visual landscape?

Then a little bit more about yourself and your approach to work: What do you like/find interesting about making work in public spaces? And how does this relate to other art you make?

Making work in public spaces satisfies my desire to work outside, generate work on a large scale and to make the viewer's creation and reception of work social and egalitarian. Most traditional galleries are inevitably linked to (commercial) market systems and rely on selling works of art to maintain space. I'm drawn to working outside that system, literally and figuratively, in the idealistic hope that art that doesn't depend on ownership will be inherently radical.

I keep notebooks full of fragmented ideas

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What are your general thoughts about NDSM, what do you think about the idea of making art for a place like this?

NDSM is a suitable location for my work because of the diverse functions that the warehouses and outdoor spaces have. It's an excellent place for me to address the complexities of art and commercial endeavors, which sometimes share the same physical space.

And finally: which artist (s) inspires you and for what reason (s)?

I can really fill hours so I'll keep it short: here's a short list of artists I appreciate for their humor, criticism, use of materials, and attitude to the culture of the art world: Lawrence Weiner, Mike Kelley, Rosemary Mayer, Ree Morton, Rosemarie Trockel, Robert Smithson, Paul Thek, Hans Haacke, Fred Wilson, Christo & Jeanne Claude, Isa Genzken.

March 8, a day that focuses on equal rights and opportunities, women's freedom and militancy around the world. Throughout history, tremendous progress has been made towards gender equality, but we are far from there. Little by little, however, change is beginning to take effect, partly due to individuals who safeguard these values in their work. But what do you actually encounter as a curator and/or program maker when you work for an inclusive and equitable cultural sector? As soon as all three of us have a good cup of tea for us, Ewa gets started: “What equality and inclusiveness mean, and how they are implemented, is different for each cultural institution. I see that at NDSM, we are more concerned with accessibility from a broad perspective. I was very impressed with Sarah van Lamsweerde's performance at the Stedelijk in 2020 where, together with the visitors, we investigated how sharpened senses enable you to “see through” the works on display. At the foundation, we have been working with diversity and accessibility since 2020; who feels welcome in the public space, who can be there?”

“Woman (s) *” is used here as a term for any person who identifies as a woman.

“Since we relate to the public space,” Petra continues. We literally program outside and feel that these are necessary questions to ask. Through projects, we question the public nature of public space, that it is actually about making a multitude of different voices sound. Ask artists which under-represented people or themes deserve more attention. In the context of developments at ndsm, how do you ensure that you do not develop exclusive (public) spaces where only large chains nest for a certain group of people, but public space is created, programmed where the white straight cis man is not the norm. For example, we are now working with AFARAI's Afaina de Jong on a design for a “square/installation” at NDSM where she looks at various challenges from a feminist perspective and mainly wants to relate to the normative, white, male image of public space and its design. '

Then I ask my two interlocutors whether they still think International Women's Day is necessary. Ewa is the first to elaborate on this: “I would hope many things are no longer necessary: feminist march, international women's day, protests against racism, extinction rebellion, but we live in a reality where I think we should be glad that people are not accepting the current status quo and going out on stage for change. Unfortunately, there are a lot of reasons why March 8 remains necessary; femicide and abuse worldwide, the wage and orgasm gap, the unpaid work that is often done by women (tip, check the studies by Women Inc.)”. “And often not as unpaid work”, Petra adds, “but seen as' care '”. Ewa nods: “just to name a few examples”. “But I also find it complicated sometimes,” says Petra, “fighting for one issue seems to push the other issue for attention, even though so many issues are important. You can't rank them by importance.” I did tell my kids about International Women's Day today, but in the end, it's about leading by example.”

“Especially within the cultural sector, many steps have been taken in recent years,” Ewa continues, “at the front, better representation of non-dominant perspectives in collections and exhibitions (for example, look at enhanced collections from major museums, platforms such as Titty Mag, podcasts such as Naked on a Dress, etc.), there is more attention for forgotten/invisible icons, and a growing number of (young) non-male directors at the back. Making numbers or percentages leading doesn't seem like the sustainable solution to me, it's about embracing representation in the broadest sense, of different worldviews.”

“We also can't tar all women with the same brush and expect everyone to look the same.” Petra adds, “feminism is quickly seen as something that defines your identity, while education, background, etc. are also enormously decisive and are reasons why not every woman thinks or expects the same about feminism. Feminists and activists also sometimes attack each other harshly for not being activist enough or reacting or acting incorrectly. This makes it difficult. The sensitivities can also be crippling.”

Then I ask about the practices at NDSM: what are the challenges you face when it comes to diverse and equal art programming at NDSM? Ewa: “We use the context of NDSM and the scale of the site to create large installations in the public space. However, finding female artists who work on the large scale that fits in a field like NDSM is sometimes a challenge.” The word phallus art (by men) is mentioned for a moment. “So here's an appeal to all female artists who have big plans/works or are looking for a place to grow in them,” Petra adds, “call us, all tips are welcome.”

“At NDSM, we try to work from an intersectionality, along different axes. A good example of a project last year that dealt with this theme was 'An-Sisters [NDSM] 'by belit sağ. belit commissioned us to create an audio-video installation in which they illuminate the invisible stories of Turkish female migrant workers by means of video portraits. belit interviewed several women for this work who worked at NDSM in sewing workshops after the shipyard, and a daughter of them who were now working at NDSM. happens to live at NDSM. We think it's important to realize such projects and show them in public space, in order to let a wide audience learn about these kinds of pieces of history of the place, of Amsterdam and the Netherlands, that are really underexposed.”

Finally, I ask Ewa and Petra if they have any reading tips for those interested in this theme. Ewa council I Am My Muse by Loes Faber, “about quirky women who changed art history”. Continue to check out the artist's work Carmen Schabracq, Umaversity, Yamuna Forzani's projects and love for my girlfriend Tina Fariteh which is now a expo curated with work by female Iranian artists.” Petra: “my little Bible until something takes its place is Witches, Witch Hunting, And Women by Silvia Federici. Shocking, but super relevant, and also check out videos/lectures of her, an incredibly inspiring woman! Furthermore, the artist inspires Agnes Denes me because of her grand project with the grain field in New York. In addition, I've been a fan of the Feminist Handicraft Party. And I would like to give a shoutout to a number of friends and power people in my life, such as Ama van Dantzig, and Orlando Maaike Gouwenberg, director of Jester and curator of the NL entry of the Venice Biennale with Melanie Bonajo (heart).”

The work 'STARS' that you are presenting at the NDSM not only looks like a beautiful shimmering starry sky, but also has a purpose. Can you tell us a bit more about how the idea for this installation came about?

We live in a very turbulent time; the climate crisis is the most threatening challenge for humans. As an artist and designer, I see it as a design assignment. Every morning I ask myself, “Is it possible to design a better world? Is it possible to invent a better future?”

My daily routine consists of experiments, tests, research, failures, and sometimes successes. 'STARS' was created during one of these days when I was experimenting with the beneficial effects of specific light waves on stressed plants. A stressed plant does not work as it should; too much stress can lead to permanent damage or even death to the tree. To achieve the global plan for atmospheric carbon sequestration, we need to heal and support the existing flora. Plants use the power of our nearest star for their metabolic process. 'STARS' replicates it, giving extra vitality to the surrounding landscape and at the same time transforming it into a dreamscape.

The light installation uses the solar radiation it is exposed to during the day and returns it at night. The bulbs show different shades that mimic the solar spectrum. Can you delve deeper into the stylistic choices such as the different sizes of the light bulbs?

It all started with understanding what part of the solar spectrum plants use for their metabolic processes and how they can capture and release it when it isn't supplied naturally. After deciphering the physics behind the process, I simply let the plants choose their favorite colors.

With 'STARS', I wanted to bring the sky a little closer to people, to make them feel part of the cosmos. When you look at the sky at night, some stars look brighter than others; some closer, some more brilliant. I wanted to bring all of this to Earth, recreate the beauty of a starry night and bring people among the stars.

In addition, with 'STARS', you ask the question: “is it possible to stimulate nature?” This work shows that there are ways to support the existing flora. What do you think we can do ourselves as individuals to stimulate nature, especially in an urban environment?

Everyone can actively contribute to a better future. We have a great opportunity to shape tomorrow's world today. Through our choices, we are the true designer of our own and collective future.

Dealing respectfully and thoughtfully with our choices — our daily choices — will already make the whole system better. Every thing counts right now.

Plants are highly sensitive to noise, light and pollution. If we think carefully about our carbon footprint, we can make the plants work at their best and create the basis for sustaining life on Earth as we know it, which for me is extremely beautiful.

Do you see this light installation as a message to give people a sense of hope about the future?

Absolutely. For centuries and millennia, humans have been following the stars to navigate safely across the dark oceans. Now, I'm hoping the stars can help us navigate through this threatening time of change. I really hope that the people who are watching or reading about the installation will come up with other solutions to make this a better place. We've just started a plan to combat climate change and we need everyone to fix it. I am a strong believer in people, in their ability to adapt and respond to threats, in their resilience, and in their imagination. What I like most is watching the people who stand just below the installation with their noses turned to the sky and find a private moment in the infinity of the sky.

What do you think of the NDSM as a rather industrial stage for your work that is more grey than green?

Honestly, I couldn't think of a better place for the project. It is indeed grey, but the greenery is still growing and it is our duty to make it healthy and lush. A place like the NDSM is a place where many factors can strain the plants, but it's also where we make the strongest statement. We're not letting greyness win, we're fighting. We are doing everything we can to succeed.

I think we've sent a message to the whole world. Even when the conditions are unfavorable and even when it seems impossible, there are always lights in our sky that we should chase. After all, we're all made of stardust.

click here to see more work by Cosimo Scotucci and click here to follow him on Instagram.

Can you tell us about the role that light and sound play in your work and what effect this has on the audience?

“Although I've been working with light and sound for years, I wouldn't consider myself a light or sound artist. I think one of my artistic goals is to create sensory environments that respond to a pre-existing context that can be physical, historical, or sociological. In this sense, light and sound, especially when combined, allow me to bring my own perishable landscape into public space, which mixes with light and sound that are already part of the environment.

I'm also inclined to regard light and sound as the most universal form of vibration imaginable, and even though this work uses language, the light and sound signals could also be seen as universal stimuli.”

The work The Great Indecision Council, shown at the NDSM, shows both abstract patterns and words. The previous times the installation was seen elsewhere, these words showed the most frequent Google searches in the country where the installation was located. How did you come up with this idea?

“Yes, that's how the installation usually works. To make it more location-specific to the NDSM, I've modified the algorithm for this version to combine the most popular words on Twitter in the Amsterdam region with the most accessed news nationally.

In fact, it's one step closer to my original idea: I wanted to reveal and reinforce what people really care about with this installation. My assumption is that what you look up on Google and Twitter when no one is watching you reflects your real thoughts in all their dimensions, and that's where the most trivial thoughts can meet conceptual or political content.”

The technical infrastructures behind the remote and wireless connections are huge and complex

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What's the most surprising online search you've come across?

Part of the concept of this art installation is that I cannot know in advance what will be shown. For an artist, this loss of control is both stimulating and challenging. In addition, I can usually only ask local people to explain to me what the installation depicts, because I don't speak the language. This sometimes makes for very interesting interactions.

One story I can share about how I was surprised by a Google search was the time I showed this installation in France in the middle of the 2019 Yellow Vest protest period, when there were massive strikes across the country and many people were asking for the government to resign. It was very interesting to see that the installation amplified these voices. I think it really made sense as an art project in public spaces.

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What do you find interesting about transferring the digital world into the physical realm and confronting the public with it?

I've never felt comfortable with the discourse where everything digital is presented as “non-material” (remember the words) cloud, air-something, wireless, light, smart and so on). The technical infrastructures behind the remote and wireless connections are huge and complex, and we are now also collectively beginning to realise how much energy they require. As an artist, my response is to make these structures visible: although I have a visual approach that is quite minimalistic, all technical structures and cables are visible in my work. Of course, the fact that I often work on a large scale is also part of that idea.

What do you think of the NDSM as a stage for your work?

I like that this temporary work takes place in such a vibrant artistic spot among other artworks — some official, some unofficial — because the area is also an important place for street art. I also see an interesting parallel in the different ways of using text: from graffiti to several previous neon works commissioned by Stichting NDSM-werf, where freedom of expression is a central part.

click here to see more of Romain Tardy's work.

García and Camargo met fifteen years ago and have been collaborating on various projects since 2011. García's work includes sculptures, videos and interventions in public spaces and addresses socio-political themes, including unequal housing opportunities in cities. Camargo is a visual artist whose work focuses on exploring stories about the notion of simulacrum (an image or representation of someone or something) in the context of an image-driven society. Together, they founded an artist collective in Mexico City called 'Colective Trafico Libre de Conocimientos', TLC (Free Knowledge Traffic Collective). The collective has five other members and experiments with public space, education and art and focuses on critical thinking, collective learning and knowledge sharing.

The rather compact city of Maastricht is a completely different world for the artist duo as they are used to traveling long distances in Mexico City. Their stay in the Netherlands has given them more time to focus on their projects and the residency at the Jan van Eyck Academy provided them with the opportunity to share their work and research with different people and gather their input. Thanks to the Open Call, the artists were also able to discover the capital. They had never heard of the NDSM in Amsterdam before, but during their research, they learned a lot about the rich history of the former shipyard and the city's possible wet fate. The latter inspired them to come up with the idea for the installation 'Are We Future Sediment? ' on the NDSM.

Water is a recurring theme in García and Camargo's work, which they approach in a very poetic way. They found that there is such a contrast in the relationship that the Netherlands has with water compared to Mexico. “In Mexico, we have a lot of problems with water, but unlike in the Netherlands. In Mexico, there is a shortage of them. There is a lot of rain, but nothing is being done with it. The water that falls mixes with the city's soil, making it dirty right away,” explains García. “The drought in Mexico is very complex. In that regard, we need to think about how we can capture the rain,” she continues. For the Open Call, she proposed an idea for a fog catcher that they had wanted to realize in Mexico but were not yet able to achieve. “It's a really good opportunity to learn how to do it, and maybe we can do it there too when we return to Mexico,” says García. “It's like a sketch for other projects,” Camargo adds.

The installation created by the artist duo consists of a five-metre-high banner whose structure is usually used for public advertising along roads in the Netherlands. Within this structure, there is a mesh fog catcher that captures water droplets in the air. It is essentially a water collector that condenses the rain and, via a piping system, the water is led to the mobile garden in front of it. The total height of the structure is five meters; the estimated level that the water will reach in five decades if no action is taken. The most striking is the message that is embroidered on it: “Are we future sediment?”

Instead of fighting against the water, maybe we can accept that it was here before we did. How can we live with it and not against it?

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The artists reflect on the idea that the current soil of Amsterdam can become the sediment of tomorrow. “In that sense, we are the future sediment. And we have to think about what kind of sediment we want to be,” says García. Their approach to the threatening waters is quite unique. “Instead of fighting against the water, maybe we can accept that it was here before us. How can we live with it and not against it?” , adds García. “The problem is that we now only see water as an object, in a very utilitarian way. Maybe it would be good if we could develop a kind of empathy for it,” she continues. That is why the work not only captures the water, but also welcomes it.

Before working on this project, García and Camargo started researching two underwater volcanoes located at the bottom of the sea in the north of the Netherlands. These volcanoes formed the bottom of the Jurassic era and are now part of the marine sediment. “You have to remember that volcanoes and water are entities of nature,” says Camargo. “Something we're thinking about is whether water and volcanoes have their own agency and how we can understand that. How can we develop a different relationship with them? Instead of seeing them as things or resources, we can see them as subjects with their own rights and way of life,” adds García. With their installation at the NDSM, they want to “continue this exploration of water as a living being with a geological memory.”

Public space isn't just the physical thing, the path, the park, the street or the square. It is the relationships that develop that space. It's about people sharing experiences.

The artists regard the NDSM as a very valuable public space where many different things and projects exist at the same time. They emphasise the importance of the human element in public space. “I think working in public spaces can cause that effect of weirdness. It's like a shock to people because they're not used to seeing something like that and it allows people to share something with each other. I think that public art can increase the 'public' in public spaces,” says García. “Public space isn't just the physical thing, the path, the park, the street or the square. It is the relationships that develop that space. It's about people sharing experiences,” she adds. After the public intervention, the duo wants to donate the plants that make up the mobile garden to people who live and work in the neighborhood.

García and Camargo deliberately chose to incorporate a familiar object — the banner — into their work to take it out of its usual context. “I love works that use ordinary street objects, such as billboards like this. I see them a lot in the Netherlands for marketing and advertising purposes. They can sell anything on it: products, houses or dreams. But we can also use them for other ideas, and people will recognize them anyway,” says Camargo. “It shows the possibility of objects,” adds the artist. In this context, the banner is used to convey a message that the artists hope people will think about. “I think it's kind of a joke in a way. The billboard is like a tombstone,” notes Camargo. “It's a question about time. The time is huge, it is massive. Human life takes 100 years, but Earth's time is another concept,” he continues. “So it's an invitation to think about the future, but also about the present. What kind of future are we building right now?” , adds García.

click here to follow Amauta García and here to follow David Camargo on Instagram.

Who SpY is is is quite a mystery. Although what you do — your work — has (been) seen in many cities around the world. How would you describe the essence of your work?

My goal is to address the audience directly to induce reflection and dialogue, to interrogate them and to allow them to act as active rather than passive subjects. In this sense, the urban environment facilitates and promotes this process.

I look beyond the formalism or aesthetics of the works, so that my own artistic attitude and that of the audience becomes a way of building the work in its entirety.

Observing and being receptive to dialogue with the city has been the process and framework in which I have expressed and communicated my ideas for years.

Your work is very public, but you, as an artist, are not. What is the motivation behind staying under the radar?

We're living in a time of social media overexposure that creates confusing realities. We're navigating a blur of misinformation and hectic social conditioning. Distraction is preferred over concentration, the automatic over the reflexive, and confrontation over empathy. The earthly order is being replaced by the digital order that denaturalizes the world's things and emotions by automating them.

All this overwhelms me and by staying in the background, I can move quietly without exposing myself too much to the media that should create a “SpY” character where everyone expects a witty and brilliant summary of the intentions of the works.

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How did you get started with what you do and how did your public interventions evolve over the years?

At the end of the 80s — attracted by the paintings I saw on the street — I started painting graffiti.

As an autodidact, I started developing my own paintings and identifying myself with my own style, I had no experience nor was educated at an art school, but I was strongly attracted to the idea of seeing my name everywhere.

After many years of working on the streets, it was as a natural evolution that I developed a keen sense of seeing the city as an artistic medium with great opportunities to create my current urban artworks.

From graffiti to the present, I have been characterised by a determination and curiosity to explore other means and formats in my work. I spend a lot of time thinking, theory, practice and managing projects. My aim is to raise important questions that generate reflection around the work, and I try to formalize and communicate these approaches through different formats.

It has been a journey where I have transformed my working method and proposed new ways of working within this framework.

There are a lot of people involved in developing your ideas, can you explain what SpY Studio's platform is and how you work?

It is a highly dynamic studio that adapts quickly to the new challenges of each project. The studio is both a laboratory space and an eclectic team of specialists, technicians and craftspeople who work together with a strong desire to learn and explore. Intertwining disciplines and collaborating with other professionals from different areas presupposes a solid work methodology that adapts well to different challenges while being flexible enough to be open to experimenting with the unexpected.

The Studio is currently researching and experimenting with kinetic art in motion and the use of new tools and media that combine the digital, mechanical, and electronic with elements of the urban imagination that we usually find on the streets of every city.

For example, we are working on a large permanent kinetic installation for the atrium of a hospital in Switzerland. It requires sophisticated engineering that integrates seamlessly into architecture and a customized programming system that will bring all the movements of the work to life. It is a project on which we will be collaborating with an engineering firm and two architecture studios, and it will take two years for the hospital to be completed and operational.

In a more ephemeral way, we recently created a 60-metre-long kinetic sculpture called ECLYPSES in the warehouses of the old weapons factory, consisting of 20 backlit mobile drives and a sound system. This work involves visitors in a unique experience through the modulation of scale, light, color and music. The different elements are combined through choreographies that form a sequence of hypnotic and compelling patterns.

And how have you developed as an artist now that your works are increasingly being picked up in many cities and by diverse cultures on different continents?

Each project is ultimately a learning process, because there is never a work like the last. It's always about new challenges where we try to understand and connect new tools, propose different research processes, and surround ourselves with the best possible team to carry them out.

As I said, through my works, I try to raise important questions that we, as a society, need to keep an eye on. This quest is formalized by conceptual contrasts between the aesthetics of my works and the difficult connotations of the objects they are built with, often elements used to condition people's behavior.

The work 'Barrier Tape' on the NDSM relates to the natural elements around it, creating a hypnotic (multi-sensory) experience for the audience. Can you tell us more about how your idea for this work came about and where this fascination with using everyday objects in your public works of art comes from?

It's about creating new works from the everyday. You start the process based on elements that are already familiar to most, but if you regroup them into a new combination, you are already creating something new and memorable.

This is a sound sculpture made with recycled deposit tape that continues the line of kinetic works with hypnotic patterns that I've explored in my latest projects.

Something fundamental in the work is the dialogue with the context and effect of the wind that plays and dances with the tapes, creating beautiful choreographies and wavy movements throughout the installation, almost as if it were a sea wave.

As you can see, it's a living work that interacts with the audience, making it part of the experience and creating a memorable moment for everyone.

Your works are in dialogue with their urban environment. 'Barrier Tape' explores the urban context of the NDSM and recalls the ever-changing nature of this place and the city of Amsterdam. How do you view or approach these changes as someone who is not from here and how do you translate this into a work?

I believe that, as an artist, you should not strive for the complacency and acceptance of the widest possible audience with your propositions. You have to be faithful and consistent in what you want to express, and work within an artistic rigor, even if not everyone likes it. But you also need to understand the context in which you are exhibiting your works and enter into dialogue with it, because we have an important responsibility when we share our creations with neighbours and residents who give up their space, otherwise we are not much different from the mass advertising noise.

Finally, you'll explore the urban environment as a “playing field full of untapped opportunities”. What kind of “playing field” do you think the NDSM is?

Without a doubt, the urban environment is a framework that offers great opportunities to work and propose artistic projects. From micro, as a small intervention on an urban element, to macro with a large installation in the urban core of a city.

Cities can generally be quite rigid, but the street acts like a living entity with blood flowing through it. It is not an aseptic space like the gallery, museum, or stock exchange. It is constantly evolving and that is part of the creation process of the works.

In the case of 'Barrier Tape' at NDSM, the artistic proposal in this public space is aimed at making passers-by complicit in their own city, and thus leaving behind the monotony that usually takes up their lives in big cities.

Rarely do we find artistic performances that break into the everyday life of cities to generate reflection and dialogue between creators, cities and citizens.

For more than twenty years, he has been laying Muholi black queer, transgender and intersex people caught through his lens, resulting in powerful contrasting black and white portraits that reclaim the meaning of “blackness” and undermine the clichéd, stereotypical images of black people. His work is a genuine representation of the black and queer identity whose versatility is shown in a celebrated way. For the photographer, the people in their photos are not “just” models, but rather participants who contribute as much to the photo as themselves.

The works on display at the NDSM are all self-portraits by the artist, where Muholi in two cases looks directly into the camera, or rather, into the eye of the viewer. Muholi has increased the contrast of the images to highlight the color of his skin. In addition, Muholi takes on a different shape in each photo — through the use of everyday matter — changing it into different characters. In the work 'Kodwa I, Amsterdam' (2017), the artist is draped in hair, once again challenging stereotypes about Africans.

Over the years, his work has been exhibited in leading museums worldwide, such as Tate Modern in London and the Guggenheim Museum in New York. In 2017, Muholi debuted his photo series “Somnyama Ngonyama” (Hail, the Dark Lioness) in the Netherlands at the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam, along with a selection of photos from his series “Faces and Phases” and “Brave Beauties”. With several awards, Muholi has become one of the most acclaimed photographers of our time.

The compelling works shown on the NDSM Billboards were shown during Pride week Amsterdam.

Manaf Halbouni was born in Damascus, Syria, where he spent most of his life and currently — as he says — “works and lives everywhere”. In 2008, he completed his studies in sculpture at the University of Fine Arts in his hometown, before moving to Dresden where he graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts. Halbouni's work covers a wide range of media, including everyday objects and materials, and is characterised by a socially critical approach to themes related to war, global conflicts, flights, borders and migration. The artist is not afraid to use public space as a stage for his art, which has certainly caused quite a stir in the past. This article illustrates the creation of one of Halbouni's most iconic works' Monument ', which is now on display at the NDSM.

With five different trucks, Halbouni's immense work is Monument transported from the warehouse in Berlin to the NDSM site in Amsterdam. This twelve-metre-high installation consists of three German passenger buses that are placed side by side and have their “noses” turned to the sky in an upright position. Due to its size and composition, it disappears Monument certainly not in the background of the expansive quay, but it immediately attracts attention when you get off the ferry. The installation was exhibited for the first time in 2017 at the Neumarkt in Dresden, Germany, and can still be admired at the NDSM until the end of August.

While he's at work “Nowhere is home” exhibited at the 2015 Venice Biennale, Halbouni read the news one morning and stumbled across the widespread image that Syrian photographer Karam Al-Masri made in the Bustan al-Qasr neighborhood of Aleppo. The March 14 photo shows how three destroyed public buses were raised to form a barricade to protect civilians from snipers when the country's civil war reached a climax. “I saw the image and thought how amazing it is what people do to protect themselves,” says Halbouni. “They blocked the streets for snipers so they could open their stores on the other side of the barricade,” Halbouni continues. “I started playing on paper by cutting out the buses with Photoshop. I placed them [hypothetically] in public squares in Europe and imagined that this is a peace sculpture against the war”.

Two years elapsed between experimenting with the idea and implementing it for the first time. During that period, Kunsthaus Dresden asked Halbouni to make a work for their cultural festival. Am Fluss, zu Cultures des Ankommens [By the river, about cultures of arrival]. Halbouni showed them the images he had taken with Photoshop and said, “How about doing that?” His proposal was met with some reluctance because — given its size — it was a very ambitious plan. However, the artist had already come up with an idea for the construction of the work so that the buses could stand firmly. After further negotiations with the city, they received permission to continue the project, and with donations from the local community, they were able to do so.

And there is always war, but there is also reconstruction.

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In 2017, Monument installed on the Neumarkt in Dresden near the Frauenkirche; a very symbolic location considering that the church was demolished in World War II and rebuilt after German reunification. “I've done historical research into the situation in Dresden in '45 when it was bombed and Aleppo in 2015, which was almost completely destroyed by the bombings. I wanted to show how war and peace can change very quickly,” says Halbouni. “And there is always war, but there is also reconstruction. Dresden was rebuilt after the war ended. So there is also hope for the people of Aleppo and the Middle East in general. But first, the war must stop”. The memorial — as an “undamaged” symbol of hope — was placed in the square a few days before the annual memorial day on February 13, where the victims of the city's bombing are commemorated.

Although Halbouni's Monument intended to bridge the war experiences of the Middle East and Europe, the work was — to say the least — not very well received by some of the spectators. Dresden is home to the right-wing anti-immigration movement Pegida, whose supporters were ready to vehemently disrupt the 2017 opening and criticize the work. Around 400 people shouted at Halbouni as he tried to elaborate on its significance. “They didn't see it as a peace memorial, but as a provocation by me to insult the German victims of the Second World War. That wasn't the intention at all!” , explains Halbouni. “It's a reference to all war victims, inspired by an image from Syria. But the far-right dynamic is always very interesting, as they try to tweak stories to make them fit their own alley. They had changed the meaning of the work to portray it in a hateful light. This had quite an impact”. Halbouni must be strong, because he has also faced countless hate emails and death threats. How he dealt with that? Well, Halbouni gave it an artistic twist. “I actually made a work of art out of it. I printed out 15 of those e-mails — 'the best of' — and showed them in an exhibition”.

A lot of people didn't see it as art. They called it Schrott or crap.

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Moreover, art in public spaces was a hot topic of the discussion in Dresden at that time. The three-part 'readymade' installation touches strongly on the perpetual question of what art is or isn't. “A lot of people didn't see it as art. They called it Schrott or crap,” notes the artist. Here in Amsterdam, too, some people have expressed skepticism on social media about why this is considered art, possibly without knowing its background. However, Halbouni deliberately uses a lot of ready-made art in his work that people can recognize from everyday life. “You can reach people much better with that and let them interact with or think about your work than if it were something complicated,” Halbouni explains. The artist likes to observe how people engage with his work in public spaces, and he noticed that something interesting happened at the Neumarkt in Dresden in 2017. “The funny thing was that everyone met in front of the buses to have those discussions; both those who were in favor of public art and those who were against it were standing there talking the whole time. That was great. They weren't yelling at each other. It was like in a parliament,” explains the artist. The installation was on display in Dresden for two months, and it was always busy during that period. “Normally it's a place where only tourists come, but during those two months, the whole of Dresden was there”.

For Halbouni, exhibiting his work in public spaces allows him to discuss with people and understand what they think about it. “Public space is that innocent place where you can reach everyone. Technically, you're forcing people to watch something because they can't escape it. In contrast to indoor galleries where people decide to go,” says the artist. “I show things in a different way than you know them. Most of the time, people are annoyed at my work at first. But then I notice how they're going to think about it and later have that “Oh, I get it now” moment. This often happens with Monument”. Halbouni even took the courage to visit a far-right demonstration in Dresden in 2015, where he was Sachse auf der Vlught [Saks on the run] created a refugee scenario at Theatherplatz and engaged in talks with protesters to understand their opposition position. This was his first public art installation and even though a demonstration was underway, the encounters that took place were not aggressive. “A very important fact is that when you talk to people who don't share your views, you need a neutral meeting point. Monument was exactly that in 2017,” Halbouni explains.

With the events in Ukraine and all the aggressions everywhere, we need it more than ever. We need peace.

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After Dresden became Monument set up in 2017 at the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin during the Berliner Herbstsalon festival. Here, too, the context of this location added an extra layer of symbolism to the work, as the gate once embodied the division of the city into East and West, but also represents the reunification since the fall of the Berlin Wall. Now, five years later, Amsterdam has the honor of hosting this memorable work and drawing attention to and connecting the voices of the Middle East with those from Ukraine and other conflict zones. The unveiling of the work took place on July 7 under the musical accompaniment of the Marmoucha Orchestra. Halbouni's project will be presented at the shipyard as part of the '(Un) Monumenting' programme series by the NDSM-Werf Foundation. At the heart of this program is the question: “What should or could a monument be or could be today and for whom?” on which the artist is asked to reflect. According to Halbouni, a monument should convey a message to the public. ”Monument sends the message to think about war and peace. I hope we all take a moment and reflect on our actions and their consequences,” says the artist. “With the events in Ukraine and all the aggressions everywhere, we need it more than ever. We need peace.”

From Open Call to multi-functional basketball court

Anyone who walked across NDSM on a sunny day last year saw enthusiastic dunk attempts, spontaneous competitions and professional moves. Since we worked with our partner 3×3 Units, who are committed to empowering young people through street basketball, have created a 3X3 Legacy Court at the shipyard, it is in full use. By young and old, local residents, artists and casual passers-by. By: Ewa Scheifes, program maker Stichting NDSM-werf

After a year and a half of intensive use, the field needed repair, and we also think it's time for the location to get a new, fresh look. The enthusiasm for the field was also so great that we would like to create an additional 3X3 field so that more people can play. That's why we thought it was the right time to make our long-term dream of transforming the spot where the field lay into a visually appealing, multifunctional living space come true. A space that amazes — for example, is the basketball court also a changing canvas for art? A public place where functions intersect, for example, imagine the field transforming into a festival stage or a hang out and meeting point during events.

For example, is the basketball court also a changing canvas for art?

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In our search for who would best design a suitable and exciting concept for this — do you ask an architect, designer or graphic artist? — during a conversation with 3X3 Unites, the idea came up with a Open Call to launch. Anyone who felt addressed by the call was allowed to come forward and experience was not required, but a sharp vision was. In this way, we also hoped to reach creatives who are not yet on our radar and discover new names unknown to us.

What's next?

Mission accomplished; in the end, we received 25 applications from individuals, duos, collectives and agencies. The submissions came from the community at NDSM, from Amsterdam and the whole of the Netherlands, but also from Copenhagen and Berlin, among others. Our inbox was filled with original ideas for crossovers, declarations of love to basketball as a metropolitan street sport, and visual references for the location. From these submissions, we have chosen three parties that we are most curious about, they were invited to make a sketch proposal.

Our inbox was filled with original ideas for crossovers and declarations of love

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Because we like to be surprised and are looking for distinctive concepts, we deliberately chose three parties with different starting points and expertise, namely from architecture, spatial design and visual arts. With them, we shared a briefing with a number of hard preconditions that the concept must meet, and a set of soft values that can be played with. For example, we think of original ways of greening, circularity and sustainability, how festivals can also make use of the site and the multi-functionality of the space.

In the next phase, they will present their idea in a short pitch to the team at the NDSM-werf Foundation, 3X3 Unites and potential other partners, after which we will see which concept best suits the site. This includes whether the preconditions have been met, but also whether the idea emotionally has the “NDSM factor”, matches the appearance and use of the shipyard, and whether circularity and sustainable use of materials were taken into account in the design. The sketch proposals will be presented at the beginning of June, and in mid-June we will know which designer (s) we will be collaborating with to come to an executable design!