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À la loupe
Werner Moron
7 Rue de l'Official
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Cloakroom
Charlotte Delval
37 Rue Souverain Pont
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Biospheric City
Xavier Mary
25 Rue Saint Paul
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This Is Not a Theory
Giuseppe Arnone
40 Rue Hors-Château
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Barbaro after the hunt
Andréa Le Guellec
56 Rue Saint-Gilles
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Nos lieux de bonheur
Benjamin Hollebeke
141 Féronstrée
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Between Two
Adrien Milon
31b Rue de la Cathédrale
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Your Parcel Is Coming
Aurelien Lacroix
5 Rue Saint-Michel
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Marcher, cueillir, jardiner, teindre
Benjamin Huynh
32 Rue de la Madeleine
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À nos jours heureux
DIAAAne (Diane Stordiau)
28 - 30 Boulevard d'Avroy
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One Loft Race — Pigeon Paradise
Lucas Castel
20 Rue de la Sirène
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Les envahisseurs
Dimitri Autin
85 Rue de la Cathédrale
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Vous êtes toustes flou·e·s
Marcelle Germaine
107 - 109 Rue de la Cathédrale
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Le jeu d’un destin
Mikaïl Koçak
52 En Neuvice
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Rue Monrose, 62 : La chambre L’enfant Le train
Paul Gérard
180 Rue Saint-Gilles
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Peek
Raphaël Meng WU
75 Rue Hors-Château
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Un buisson de clés (Sleutelbos)
Amber Roucourt
16 Rue du Palais
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Brownfields
Cesare Botti
108 Féronstrée
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Never Finished
Dirk Bours
84 Féronstrée
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Empty Reflections
Jason Slabbynck
21 Pont d'Île
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On « Sexy Magico »
Louis Gahide
7 Rue Lambert Lombard
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Opalima Kupina: Liège episode A Stop Pavilion: On the Soft Underbelly of Europe.
Nikolay Karabinovych
1 Féronstrée
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Untitled
Reza Kianpour
14 Rue de la Populaire
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Angle Mort
VIVONS CACHÉ·ES
31a Rue de la Cathédrale
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Haya al salat, haya ala falah*
Sarah Van Melick
4 Rue de la Cathédrale
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LOBSTERS AND OYSTERS PLEASE !
#7
Coline Gaulot
Open call
15850 En Féronstrée
Her work goes through stories of variable intimacies. From the most autobiographical to the most common, for many years, the artist has tracked the experience through different supports such as the installation, painting, writing and ceramic. A love story, nocturnal bathing, anniversaries appear and make us stagger. These variations satisfy our abundant singular and universal turbulences. The Kairos is precious.
Lobsters and oysters please ! is a festive contemporary fictional archaeology, crystallized in porcelain. The leftovers of a ghostly feast, finished, dropped there. Let’s look at the leftovers. What lives on us. Time stops between the Curly, the oysters, the cocktail sausages, the cigarette butts…Where are our leftovers going ? Are you bothered by the fact I find our leftovers so nice ? What will we do when we won’t be able to dip our cocktail sausages into mustard ? What will we become when we will stop stirring our straws in our glasses ? As long as you can ask yourself these questions, it means that everything’s fine. I turn chips, toothpicks and olives into totems. Still have the time to highlight the details. Time flies but suspending it is still possible. Stop this instant. This party. I smile when I think of you looking at these details, these precious vestiges of banal stories. These things that are only important because you have just stopped. I hope that you enjoy our party and that you can imagine the smell of our skin in the middle of this feast. Unfortunately, our vestiges will not have the smell of sweat.

