I can hardly imagine places as unpleasant as the toilet on a train. You don't need to have claustrophobia or germophobia to feel claustrophobic there. It's a place I prefer to avoid. When the need is urgent and I step into the tiny cubicle, whose walls are covered in tags and stickers, while I fly at a speed of 200 kilometers per hour over the Belgian railways, I want to get out of there as quickly as possible. That probably applies to you as well. But not for the artist Okan Mentes. This nineteen-year-old from Brussels knows how to find beauty even in the ugliest places. In this exhibition, there is a photo he took of the water that was cyclone-like sucked into the depths through the stainless steel bottom of the train toilet bowl. This may sound like a joke – a kind of Duchamp-like stunt – but it is not. Okan did not take the photo with the intention of making a conceptual artwork. He took the photo solely because he saw something aesthetic. And the fact that this aesthetic lay in the bottom of a toilet bowl is actually irrelevant.
Artists are not known for being modest. I can assure you that Okan is an exception to this. When I first met him a few weeks ago, I was surprised by his infectious enthusiasm and eager-to-learn attitude. He seemed to be well aware that as a young artist, he still had much to learn. I see that modesty reflected in his artworks as well. This exhibition is certainly not a loud declaration of a coherent philosophy. It is rather an uncertain search for fragmented beauties.
When we behold a terracotta sculpture, we are curious about whose handprints are in the clay. Although there are no literal impressions of the artist left in the photos, we are still curious about what the creator put of themselves into their art. Even the greatest proponent of “the death of the author” cannot turn off this instinctive curiosity. Yet I would like to ask you exactly this. Try to forget Okan for a moment while viewing Okan's work and see the work for what it is. You may also feel the urge to find out what is in the photos. But as mentioned earlier, whether a photo was taken of a traffic sign, a sidewalk stone, or even a toilet bowl is actually irrelevant. In fact, you should even forget that the artworks you are viewing are photos. Try to set aside the who, what, where, and when. All that remains is the pure experience of the black-and-white compositions. And when you fully let that in, then you will understand, in my opinion, the true value of these artworks.
It is easy to be charmed by the young Okan. Especially when he reveals the funny anecdotes behind his artworks in his Brussels accent and with his youthful enthusiasm. If you ever find yourself in such a situation: be vigilant. It is not the intention for you as a spectator to find the artist in their works. The intention is for you to lose yourself in them!