Artist Frank Halmans’ work can give you flashbacks to specific periods in your life in the same way as a particular smell can. This winter, he’ll be exhibiting a series of strange, yet familiar objects in Galerie Larik.
‘Turn right at the end of the concrete path, right again at the big barn, then left when you get to the field.’ These directions will take you to Frank Halmans’ studio, located in one of the stables on a farm somewhere in the polder landscape near Bunnik. Although it looks out onto rows of knotted willows, verges of reed and a skyscape of racing clouds, the interior is very different. Inside, everything revolves around domesticity. House and home. The shoes in the hall, old-fashioned kitchen cupboards, a fly on the windowsill. These are the themes featured in Frank Halmans’ work. His drawings and objects bridge the gap between the present day and past memories, memories of places you used to know.
Perfect hook
Take My burned bridges are keepers: an average kitchen cupboard containing everything you’d expect to find, as well as three miniature burnt bridges. ‘The idea is that you leave things behind, but I’ve noticed that those burnt bridge always stay with you. You never really lose them,’ says Frank. He casually places the bridges between teabags and coffee cups, because that’s how memories work: they pop up when you’re least expecting them.
‘I don’t make anything up’, he explains. All his work is based on things he’s seen and places he’s lived. ‘The beginning is always visual. A powerful image, which acquires a deeper layer. And an emotional layer.’ His work is poetic and relatable, but also elusive. You can’t quite explain it, in the same way as thoughts and associations are sometimes just there, without a direct trigger.
Cupboards regularly feature in his work. Cupboards where you store things, hide things or try to keep them tidy. In Be my guest, a glass cabinet is divided into various sections fitted with hooks. Sometimes one hook, sometimes more, but all different. The infinite variety of objects as simple as a hook has fascinated Frank for years. ‘The perfect model was designed ages ago but people are still coming up with new variations. Hooks don’t usually match the rest of the interior; they’re something that people add later.’ Hooks are a sign of hospitality, homecoming. Hanging up your coat makes you feel welcome.
Subcutaneous
Home can be any house, or part of a house. The room you once slept in, a bed, or perhaps the technical side of the house. In the series Gebilde, Frank has constructed a 3D model of the inside of a house, showing the pathways of the water, electricity and drains. ‘I omitted all the walls and ceilings in the Gebilde and showcased the system instead. It’s like an anatomical model with veins and nerve paths, except that the colours match the construction.’ The red and blue cables and straight lines are reminiscent of the imagery of De Stijl, a 3D version of a Mondriaan. ‘That’s a coincidence’, he says, ‘but it gives the work a great extra layer.’ The models are houses (or fragments of houses) where he has lived, many of which he renovated himself and knows like the back of his hand.
Dustbuster
His work always features a mix of practical elements and emotion. The desire to keep things tidy and to organise, and the fact that there’s always something that won’t let itself be rationally organised. He is keen to show the aesthetics of the 1970s (his youth). The dustbuster is a prime example. The shape plunges you back into a somewhat clumsy past, reinforced by the image Frank has created. He sawed the casing that collects the dust in two, and then built a scaled-down model of a house within it. A mobile home or small bungalow; it shouldn’t be too perfect. By the way – the dustbuster still works. The dust builds up inside the house.
His work is actually a metaphor for life and everything that life collects along its way. Not just objects, but also experiences and memories, and the way they flow back and forth in a constant tidal movement. To Frank Halmans, time is not linear. Invisible lines run between then and now. You sometimes find something unexpected in a cupboard you thought you’d cleared out long ago.
And that’s fine. The memories that revive are always good memories. Not intense or sentimental, but light-hearted and funny. It’s an attempt to capture the sense of a particular moment. It’s often the everyday things that conjure up memories. Things you never took much notice of. Like a dustbuster or a kitchen cupboard: these objects play the lead in his work. And then they’ll never be the same again.
Be my guest, until 24 January, Galerie Larik
Lees in het Nederlands
Over dit artikel
text:
Marjolein Sponselee
images:
Jeannette Schols
Publication date:
12 December 2025
Magazine edition:
UITagenda Utrecht dec/jan 2025
