GERARD HERMAN

Instruments de champ

at Wouters Gallery, Brussels

November 23 - January 25, 2025

“Minimal, on the verge of lazy.”

Gerard Herman is a proud amateur. He loves classical music, traditions, acoustic instruments, whist... He would not call himself a professional since the aesthetics of failure are very dear to him, and there- fore he does not try to do anything perfectly. Even more than the aesthetics, Gerard Herman embraces the mindset of failure. The fretsaw is capable of creating flaws that a laser cutter could never produce as genuinely. Surprise or amazement only occur when something fails or turns out differently, so doing something without being able to do it perfectly is a necessary competence within his poetic artistic practice. Gerard Herman’s gallerist saw a connection with me – an amateur pole dancer, an aspiring representative of Belgium at Eurovision, and a supposed poet (as a teenager, I could already be reached at ilse@miskendschrijver.be) – which led me to have a conversation with the artist the day before the opening, the first and also the last day of setup, so I could write a supporting text for the exhibition ‘Instruments de champ‘, a title we forgot to discuss.

‘Instruments de champ’ winks at the ability to fail as it uses the most minimal gestures to bring to- gether a universe that leaves room for self-deprecation. At the same time, the exhibition refers to the most pompous, highbrow culture: classical music. Gerard Herman not only appreciates the artistic inventiveness of classical compositions, but above all, he loves the freedom that classical music provides. Pieces are frequently reinterpreted and reworked, creating a kind of community that works with the same material. Based on album covers from his personal record collection, Gerard Herman created portraits of several performers from this community. It can be seen as an indirect tribute to the composers, but it more sincerely shows his love for classical music and for everyone who shares this passion and identifies with it in one way or another, especially those without a name, talent, or ambition.

Extending this ode to all so-called second-rate musicians, Gerard Herman also designed a series of second-rate instruments that all visitors are free to play. (“Things will definitely break.” And be careful, I injured myself pretty badly on the nail guitar.) One instrument is isolated in the middle of a smaller room: a shortened bass drum with a score instructing us to press the pedal 80 times and declare, “I de-mand a big-ger room.” The room fills with the muffled bass sound and a desperate longing for more space. Accompanied by both large and small musicians, this song sounds like the inevitable thought of every artist who occupies the stage or museum, dreaming of more and bigger. Gerard Herman likes to poke fun at it, questioning his own position as an artist. What makes someone a successful, professional artist, and when is a career considered a failure?

Gerard Herman has made the perfect compromise. He perfected himself in the aesthetics of failure, uniting success and failure. The last of his concerns is to belong to an exalted club, which also explains my unanswered email from 2013: my invitation for a promising exhibition in Ninove was completely ig- nored. It’s all about the enjoyment, the love, the amateurism. Just like in pole dancing, Gerard Herman prefers to slide down, far away from the top, to focus on the groundwork. Because why aspire to success when it can also be “minimal, on the verge of lazy”?

exhibition text by Ilse Roosens (writer, curator at Mu.ZEE Ostend)