An old wooden cabinet is illuminated on the inside by a single bare bulb. The door tilts open. The light is warm. A dark cushion rests at the base. The texture of the object corresponds with its age and sets up a particular channel of domesticity to view the many small paintings that hang upon it, both inside and outside. It’s not comfortable, but it calls for the nearness of intimacy, and up close its strangeness is only amplified. The paintings depict heads, and the heads share the rippled and bumpy surface of the earth after an earthquake. They’re turbulent, but charming. The way Trude Viken paints a mouth brings joy.
This past weekend, in the midst of cancellations that have been sweeping events through Europe and the US, the inaugural edition of Art Antwerp took p.