‘Aucune histoire banale gravé dans ma mémoire’ (‘Not a single trivial story etched in my memory’), Thomas Renwart reveals the phrase with the patience of a saint. For sixteen hours, the artist worked on J’avais presque écrit ma lettre d’adieu (‘I had almost written my goodbye letter’). This series on suicide intertwines not only raw flax fibres, but also mental anguish with the physical torment of monumental manual weaving. Whirling maple leaves and graceful swallows envelop his words, and symbolise an explosion of a renewed vitality. He never wrote that goodbye letter, fortunately. Instead, he bestows a generous welcome party on himself – and us – with Highway Vagabond.
The chickens of his grandmother’s garden bring Renwart back to his childhood’s village. Magnified through the gaze of children’s eyes, the poultry flies away to lyrics by Françoise Hardy. La maison où j’ai grandi(‘The house where I grew up’) is an ode to the comfort and value of the everyday, exposing the myth and banality of the nomadic adventure at the same time. The house, the chickens, and his beloved grandmother are no more. Neither is the naivety, though it can be visited again sometimes. Renwart tackles the tension between childish innocence and the awareness of maturity with a razor-sharp sense for tragicomedy. The Prairietales feel like children’s book’s illustrations. With his woven pen drawings, the artist demystifies the secure bubble of cheery farm animals before bedtime. The seasons rushing past drove Renwart out of the magical forest, though he still dances the polonaise sometimes with the certainty that ducks, dragonflies, and flowers will always be there. With The day the heron took my prince away the artist winks at himself and his tapestries from the past. The mischievous thief becomes an impressive hero who steals the love interest in an astonishing manner. What’s the use of waiting for something that will never return and drowning in fairy tales when there are many frogs to be kissed? With one-liners like ‘Another Town, Another Lover, Same Old Life’, ‘Judged By The Plastic Virgin Mary On My (One) Night Stand’, and ‘Ghosted Like It Was Fucking Halloween’, the Hilbilly Poems are a hilarious testament to the contemporary quest for love that sparks with self-reflection. Through his own writing – inspiration from when he wakes up after a wild night – the artist proves to be a powerful storyteller. With just a few striking images and words, he evokes an entire world.
Discerningly, Renwart collects atmospheres and pathos. Erudite, multilingual, and greedy as ever, this vagabond does not shy away from any genre. His highway leads via natural lyricism and French chansons to the country music of rural areas. Country is the genre par excellence of heartbreak and storytelling. Born out of the tradition of the conservative hinterland, it got hijacked by the queer community. Armed with a cowboy hat, he creates a moving and emancipatory exhibition. Miranda Lambert’s album Palomino served as the soundtrack and artistic catalyst during hard times. Singer Lambert thought she could only create through suffering, until she understood that she didn’t have to keep breaking but could also city hop her scars as physical places to write her stories. With these words, Renwart commenced his wanderings, stopping over at moments, both fictional and authentic, through the universe he has composed in the past few years in his mind and life. The artist calls these visits to himself ‘postcards of the future’.
The gardener has become a cowboy. Swanlake City reads like self-portraits brimming with acceptance: tartan, patterns of the artist’s favourite sweater, the duckling that became a swan. The history of Belgium and textiles is also reflected in these typical tricolour floorcloths. The country, renowned for its traditional tapestry, sweeps the floor with its flag. Renwart is a patriot who proudly represents Belgium’s particular surrealism. To reinforce this, the artist ventures into sculptures. Geese on wheels, a fish stall, and cuddly toy flowers refer to fun fairs and cattle markets, inviting you to the inexhaustible source of childlike happiness.
Nostalgia gives way to the overwhelming joy of camp. Handicrafts merge with contemporary digital techniques. Experiments with glitter and shiny materials are added to linen and cotton. Renwart uses threads to paint flaming scenes, and emphasises the conceptual capacities of the material with an astounding technicality. Mischievously, this rebellious artist of life trivialises the majestic, while elevating the mundane to an audacious linedance.
March 2023
(Femke Vandenbosch for Barbé Gallery)