Manaf Halbouni was born in Damascus, Syria, where he spent most of his life and currently — as he says — “works and lives everywhere”. In 2008, he completed his studies in sculpture at the University of Fine Arts in his hometown, before moving to Dresden where he graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts. Halbouni's work covers a wide range of media, including everyday objects and materials, and is characterised by a socially critical approach to themes related to war, global conflicts, flights, borders and migration. The artist is not afraid to use public space as a stage for his art, which has certainly caused quite a stir in the past. This article illustrates the creation of one of Halbouni's most iconic works' Monument ', which is now on display at the NDSM.

With five different trucks, Halbouni's immense work is Monument transported from the warehouse in Berlin to the NDSM site in Amsterdam. This twelve-metre-high installation consists of three German passenger buses that are placed side by side and have their “noses” turned to the sky in an upright position. Due to its size and composition, it disappears Monument certainly not in the background of the expansive quay, but it immediately attracts attention when you get off the ferry. The installation was exhibited for the first time in 2017 at the Neumarkt in Dresden, Germany, and can still be admired at the NDSM until the end of August.

While he's at work “Nowhere is home” exhibited at the 2015 Venice Biennale, Halbouni read the news one morning and stumbled across the widespread image that Syrian photographer Karam Al-Masri made in the Bustan al-Qasr neighborhood of Aleppo. The March 14 photo shows how three destroyed public buses were raised to form a barricade to protect civilians from snipers when the country's civil war reached a climax. “I saw the image and thought how amazing it is what people do to protect themselves,” says Halbouni. “They blocked the streets for snipers so they could open their stores on the other side of the barricade,” Halbouni continues. “I started playing on paper by cutting out the buses with Photoshop. I placed them [hypothetically] in public squares in Europe and imagined that this is a peace sculpture against the war”.

Two years elapsed between experimenting with the idea and implementing it for the first time. During that period, Kunsthaus Dresden asked Halbouni to make a work for their cultural festival. Am Fluss, zu Cultures des Ankommens [By the river, about cultures of arrival]. Halbouni showed them the images he had taken with Photoshop and said, “How about doing that?” His proposal was met with some reluctance because — given its size — it was a very ambitious plan. However, the artist had already come up with an idea for the construction of the work so that the buses could stand firmly. After further negotiations with the city, they received permission to continue the project, and with donations from the local community, they were able to do so.

And there is always war, but there is also reconstruction.

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In 2017, Monument installed on the Neumarkt in Dresden near the Frauenkirche; a very symbolic location considering that the church was demolished in World War II and rebuilt after German reunification. “I've done historical research into the situation in Dresden in '45 when it was bombed and Aleppo in 2015, which was almost completely destroyed by the bombings. I wanted to show how war and peace can change very quickly,” says Halbouni. “And there is always war, but there is also reconstruction. Dresden was rebuilt after the war ended. So there is also hope for the people of Aleppo and the Middle East in general. But first, the war must stop”. The memorial — as an “undamaged” symbol of hope — was placed in the square a few days before the annual memorial day on February 13, where the victims of the city's bombing are commemorated.

Although Halbouni's Monument intended to bridge the war experiences of the Middle East and Europe, the work was — to say the least — not very well received by some of the spectators. Dresden is home to the right-wing anti-immigration movement Pegida, whose supporters were ready to vehemently disrupt the 2017 opening and criticize the work. Around 400 people shouted at Halbouni as he tried to elaborate on its significance. “They didn't see it as a peace memorial, but as a provocation by me to insult the German victims of the Second World War. That wasn't the intention at all!” , explains Halbouni. “It's a reference to all war victims, inspired by an image from Syria. But the far-right dynamic is always very interesting, as they try to tweak stories to make them fit their own alley. They had changed the meaning of the work to portray it in a hateful light. This had quite an impact”. Halbouni must be strong, because he has also faced countless hate emails and death threats. How he dealt with that? Well, Halbouni gave it an artistic twist. “I actually made a work of art out of it. I printed out 15 of those e-mails — 'the best of' — and showed them in an exhibition”.

A lot of people didn't see it as art. They called it Schrott or crap.

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Moreover, art in public spaces was a hot topic of the discussion in Dresden at that time. The three-part 'readymade' installation touches strongly on the perpetual question of what art is or isn't. “A lot of people didn't see it as art. They called it Schrott or crap,” notes the artist. Here in Amsterdam, too, some people have expressed skepticism on social media about why this is considered art, possibly without knowing its background. However, Halbouni deliberately uses a lot of ready-made art in his work that people can recognize from everyday life. “You can reach people much better with that and let them interact with or think about your work than if it were something complicated,” Halbouni explains. The artist likes to observe how people engage with his work in public spaces, and he noticed that something interesting happened at the Neumarkt in Dresden in 2017. “The funny thing was that everyone met in front of the buses to have those discussions; both those who were in favor of public art and those who were against it were standing there talking the whole time. That was great. They weren't yelling at each other. It was like in a parliament,” explains the artist. The installation was on display in Dresden for two months, and it was always busy during that period. “Normally it's a place where only tourists come, but during those two months, the whole of Dresden was there”.

For Halbouni, exhibiting his work in public spaces allows him to discuss with people and understand what they think about it. “Public space is that innocent place where you can reach everyone. Technically, you're forcing people to watch something because they can't escape it. In contrast to indoor galleries where people decide to go,” says the artist. “I show things in a different way than you know them. Most of the time, people are annoyed at my work at first. But then I notice how they're going to think about it and later have that “Oh, I get it now” moment. This often happens with Monument”. Halbouni even took the courage to visit a far-right demonstration in Dresden in 2015, where he was Sachse auf der Vlught [Saks on the run] created a refugee scenario at Theatherplatz and engaged in talks with protesters to understand their opposition position. This was his first public art installation and even though a demonstration was underway, the encounters that took place were not aggressive. “A very important fact is that when you talk to people who don't share your views, you need a neutral meeting point. Monument was exactly that in 2017,” Halbouni explains.

With the events in Ukraine and all the aggressions everywhere, we need it more than ever. We need peace.

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After Dresden became Monument set up in 2017 at the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin during the Berliner Herbstsalon festival. Here, too, the context of this location added an extra layer of symbolism to the work, as the gate once embodied the division of the city into East and West, but also represents the reunification since the fall of the Berlin Wall. Now, five years later, Amsterdam has the honor of hosting this memorable work and drawing attention to and connecting the voices of the Middle East with those from Ukraine and other conflict zones. The unveiling of the work took place on July 7 under the musical accompaniment of the Marmoucha Orchestra. Halbouni's project will be presented at the shipyard as part of the '(Un) Monumenting' programme series by the NDSM-Werf Foundation. At the heart of this program is the question: “What should or could a monument be or could be today and for whom?” on which the artist is asked to reflect. According to Halbouni, a monument should convey a message to the public. ”Monument sends the message to think about war and peace. I hope we all take a moment and reflect on our actions and their consequences,” says the artist. “With the events in Ukraine and all the aggressions everywhere, we need it more than ever. We need peace.”

For more than twenty years, he has been laying Muholi black queer, transgender and intersex people caught through his lens, resulting in powerful contrasting black and white portraits that reclaim the meaning of “blackness” and undermine the clichéd, stereotypical images of black people. His work is a genuine representation of the black and queer identity whose versatility is shown in a celebrated way. For the photographer, the people in their photos are not “just” models, but rather participants who contribute as much to the photo as themselves.

The works on display at the NDSM are all self-portraits by the artist, where Muholi in two cases looks directly into the camera, or rather, into the eye of the viewer. Muholi has increased the contrast of the images to highlight the color of his skin. In addition, Muholi takes on a different shape in each photo — through the use of everyday matter — changing it into different characters. In the work 'Kodwa I, Amsterdam' (2017), the artist is draped in hair, once again challenging stereotypes about Africans.

Over the years, his work has been exhibited in leading museums worldwide, such as Tate Modern in London and the Guggenheim Museum in New York. In 2017, Muholi debuted his photo series “Somnyama Ngonyama” (Hail, the Dark Lioness) in the Netherlands at the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam, along with a selection of photos from his series “Faces and Phases” and “Brave Beauties”. With several awards, Muholi has become one of the most acclaimed photographers of our time.

The compelling works shown on the NDSM Billboards were shown during Pride week Amsterdam.

Who SpY is is is quite a mystery. Although what you do — your work — has (been) seen in many cities around the world. How would you describe the essence of your work?

My goal is to address the audience directly to induce reflection and dialogue, to interrogate them and to allow them to act as active rather than passive subjects. In this sense, the urban environment facilitates and promotes this process.

I look beyond the formalism or aesthetics of the works, so that my own artistic attitude and that of the audience becomes a way of building the work in its entirety.

Observing and being receptive to dialogue with the city has been the process and framework in which I have expressed and communicated my ideas for years.

Your work is very public, but you, as an artist, are not. What is the motivation behind staying under the radar?

We're living in a time of social media overexposure that creates confusing realities. We're navigating a blur of misinformation and hectic social conditioning. Distraction is preferred over concentration, the automatic over the reflexive, and confrontation over empathy. The earthly order is being replaced by the digital order that denaturalizes the world's things and emotions by automating them.

All this overwhelms me and by staying in the background, I can move quietly without exposing myself too much to the media that should create a “SpY” character where everyone expects a witty and brilliant summary of the intentions of the works.

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How did you get started with what you do and how did your public interventions evolve over the years?

At the end of the 80s — attracted by the paintings I saw on the street — I started painting graffiti.

As an autodidact, I started developing my own paintings and identifying myself with my own style, I had no experience nor was educated at an art school, but I was strongly attracted to the idea of seeing my name everywhere.

After many years of working on the streets, it was as a natural evolution that I developed a keen sense of seeing the city as an artistic medium with great opportunities to create my current urban artworks.

From graffiti to the present, I have been characterised by a determination and curiosity to explore other means and formats in my work. I spend a lot of time thinking, theory, practice and managing projects. My aim is to raise important questions that generate reflection around the work, and I try to formalize and communicate these approaches through different formats.

It has been a journey where I have transformed my working method and proposed new ways of working within this framework.

There are a lot of people involved in developing your ideas, can you explain what SpY Studio's platform is and how you work?

It is a highly dynamic studio that adapts quickly to the new challenges of each project. The studio is both a laboratory space and an eclectic team of specialists, technicians and craftspeople who work together with a strong desire to learn and explore. Intertwining disciplines and collaborating with other professionals from different areas presupposes a solid work methodology that adapts well to different challenges while being flexible enough to be open to experimenting with the unexpected.

The Studio is currently researching and experimenting with kinetic art in motion and the use of new tools and media that combine the digital, mechanical, and electronic with elements of the urban imagination that we usually find on the streets of every city.

For example, we are working on a large permanent kinetic installation for the atrium of a hospital in Switzerland. It requires sophisticated engineering that integrates seamlessly into architecture and a customized programming system that will bring all the movements of the work to life. It is a project on which we will be collaborating with an engineering firm and two architecture studios, and it will take two years for the hospital to be completed and operational.

In a more ephemeral way, we recently created a 60-metre-long kinetic sculpture called ECLYPSES in the warehouses of the old weapons factory, consisting of 20 backlit mobile drives and a sound system. This work involves visitors in a unique experience through the modulation of scale, light, color and music. The different elements are combined through choreographies that form a sequence of hypnotic and compelling patterns.

And how have you developed as an artist now that your works are increasingly being picked up in many cities and by diverse cultures on different continents?

Each project is ultimately a learning process, because there is never a work like the last. It's always about new challenges where we try to understand and connect new tools, propose different research processes, and surround ourselves with the best possible team to carry them out.

As I said, through my works, I try to raise important questions that we, as a society, need to keep an eye on. This quest is formalized by conceptual contrasts between the aesthetics of my works and the difficult connotations of the objects they are built with, often elements used to condition people's behavior.

The work 'Barrier Tape' on the NDSM relates to the natural elements around it, creating a hypnotic (multi-sensory) experience for the audience. Can you tell us more about how your idea for this work came about and where this fascination with using everyday objects in your public works of art comes from?

It's about creating new works from the everyday. You start the process based on elements that are already familiar to most, but if you regroup them into a new combination, you are already creating something new and memorable.

This is a sound sculpture made with recycled deposit tape that continues the line of kinetic works with hypnotic patterns that I've explored in my latest projects.

Something fundamental in the work is the dialogue with the context and effect of the wind that plays and dances with the tapes, creating beautiful choreographies and wavy movements throughout the installation, almost as if it were a sea wave.

As you can see, it's a living work that interacts with the audience, making it part of the experience and creating a memorable moment for everyone.

Your works are in dialogue with their urban environment. 'Barrier Tape' explores the urban context of the NDSM and recalls the ever-changing nature of this place and the city of Amsterdam. How do you view or approach these changes as someone who is not from here and how do you translate this into a work?

I believe that, as an artist, you should not strive for the complacency and acceptance of the widest possible audience with your propositions. You have to be faithful and consistent in what you want to express, and work within an artistic rigor, even if not everyone likes it. But you also need to understand the context in which you are exhibiting your works and enter into dialogue with it, because we have an important responsibility when we share our creations with neighbours and residents who give up their space, otherwise we are not much different from the mass advertising noise.

Finally, you'll explore the urban environment as a “playing field full of untapped opportunities”. What kind of “playing field” do you think the NDSM is?

Without a doubt, the urban environment is a framework that offers great opportunities to work and propose artistic projects. From micro, as a small intervention on an urban element, to macro with a large installation in the urban core of a city.

Cities can generally be quite rigid, but the street acts like a living entity with blood flowing through it. It is not an aseptic space like the gallery, museum, or stock exchange. It is constantly evolving and that is part of the creation process of the works.

In the case of 'Barrier Tape' at NDSM, the artistic proposal in this public space is aimed at making passers-by complicit in their own city, and thus leaving behind the monotony that usually takes up their lives in big cities.

Rarely do we find artistic performances that break into the everyday life of cities to generate reflection and dialogue between creators, cities and citizens.

García and Camargo met fifteen years ago and have been collaborating on various projects since 2011. García's work includes sculptures, videos and interventions in public spaces and addresses socio-political themes, including unequal housing opportunities in cities. Camargo is a visual artist whose work focuses on exploring stories about the notion of simulacrum (an image or representation of someone or something) in the context of an image-driven society. Together, they founded an artist collective in Mexico City called 'Colective Trafico Libre de Conocimientos', TLC (Free Knowledge Traffic Collective). The collective has five other members and experiments with public space, education and art and focuses on critical thinking, collective learning and knowledge sharing.

The rather compact city of Maastricht is a completely different world for the artist duo as they are used to traveling long distances in Mexico City. Their stay in the Netherlands has given them more time to focus on their projects and the residency at the Jan van Eyck Academy provided them with the opportunity to share their work and research with different people and gather their input. Thanks to the Open Call, the artists were also able to discover the capital. They had never heard of the NDSM in Amsterdam before, but during their research, they learned a lot about the rich history of the former shipyard and the city's possible wet fate. The latter inspired them to come up with the idea for the installation 'Are We Future Sediment? ' on the NDSM.

Water is a recurring theme in García and Camargo's work, which they approach in a very poetic way. They found that there is such a contrast in the relationship that the Netherlands has with water compared to Mexico. “In Mexico, we have a lot of problems with water, but unlike in the Netherlands. In Mexico, there is a shortage of them. There is a lot of rain, but nothing is being done with it. The water that falls mixes with the city's soil, making it dirty right away,” explains García. “The drought in Mexico is very complex. In that regard, we need to think about how we can capture the rain,” she continues. For the Open Call, she proposed an idea for a fog catcher that they had wanted to realize in Mexico but were not yet able to achieve. “It's a really good opportunity to learn how to do it, and maybe we can do it there too when we return to Mexico,” says García. “It's like a sketch for other projects,” Camargo adds.

The installation created by the artist duo consists of a five-metre-high banner whose structure is usually used for public advertising along roads in the Netherlands. Within this structure, there is a mesh fog catcher that captures water droplets in the air. It is essentially a water collector that condenses the rain and, via a piping system, the water is led to the mobile garden in front of it. The total height of the structure is five meters; the estimated level that the water will reach in five decades if no action is taken. The most striking is the message that is embroidered on it: “Are we future sediment?”

Instead of fighting against the water, maybe we can accept that it was here before we did. How can we live with it and not against it?

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The artists reflect on the idea that the current soil of Amsterdam can become the sediment of tomorrow. “In that sense, we are the future sediment. And we have to think about what kind of sediment we want to be,” says García. Their approach to the threatening waters is quite unique. “Instead of fighting against the water, maybe we can accept that it was here before us. How can we live with it and not against it?” , adds García. “The problem is that we now only see water as an object, in a very utilitarian way. Maybe it would be good if we could develop a kind of empathy for it,” she continues. That is why the work not only captures the water, but also welcomes it.

Before working on this project, García and Camargo started researching two underwater volcanoes located at the bottom of the sea in the north of the Netherlands. These volcanoes formed the bottom of the Jurassic era and are now part of the marine sediment. “You have to remember that volcanoes and water are entities of nature,” says Camargo. “Something we're thinking about is whether water and volcanoes have their own agency and how we can understand that. How can we develop a different relationship with them? Instead of seeing them as things or resources, we can see them as subjects with their own rights and way of life,” adds García. With their installation at the NDSM, they want to “continue this exploration of water as a living being with a geological memory.”

Public space isn't just the physical thing, the path, the park, the street or the square. It is the relationships that develop that space. It's about people sharing experiences.

The artists regard the NDSM as a very valuable public space where many different things and projects exist at the same time. They emphasise the importance of the human element in public space. “I think working in public spaces can cause that effect of weirdness. It's like a shock to people because they're not used to seeing something like that and it allows people to share something with each other. I think that public art can increase the 'public' in public spaces,” says García. “Public space isn't just the physical thing, the path, the park, the street or the square. It is the relationships that develop that space. It's about people sharing experiences,” she adds. After the public intervention, the duo wants to donate the plants that make up the mobile garden to people who live and work in the neighborhood.

García and Camargo deliberately chose to incorporate a familiar object — the banner — into their work to take it out of its usual context. “I love works that use ordinary street objects, such as billboards like this. I see them a lot in the Netherlands for marketing and advertising purposes. They can sell anything on it: products, houses or dreams. But we can also use them for other ideas, and people will recognize them anyway,” says Camargo. “It shows the possibility of objects,” adds the artist. In this context, the banner is used to convey a message that the artists hope people will think about. “I think it's kind of a joke in a way. The billboard is like a tombstone,” notes Camargo. “It's a question about time. The time is huge, it is massive. Human life takes 100 years, but Earth's time is another concept,” he continues. “So it's an invitation to think about the future, but also about the present. What kind of future are we building right now?” , adds García.

click here to follow Amauta García and here to follow David Camargo on Instagram.

Can you tell us about the role that light and sound play in your work and what effect this has on the audience?

“Although I've been working with light and sound for years, I wouldn't consider myself a light or sound artist. I think one of my artistic goals is to create sensory environments that respond to a pre-existing context that can be physical, historical, or sociological. In this sense, light and sound, especially when combined, allow me to bring my own perishable landscape into public space, which mixes with light and sound that are already part of the environment.

I'm also inclined to regard light and sound as the most universal form of vibration imaginable, and even though this work uses language, the light and sound signals could also be seen as universal stimuli.”

The work The Great Indecision Council, shown at the NDSM, shows both abstract patterns and words. The previous times the installation was seen elsewhere, these words showed the most frequent Google searches in the country where the installation was located. How did you come up with this idea?

“Yes, that's how the installation usually works. To make it more location-specific to the NDSM, I've modified the algorithm for this version to combine the most popular words on Twitter in the Amsterdam region with the most accessed news nationally.

In fact, it's one step closer to my original idea: I wanted to reveal and reinforce what people really care about with this installation. My assumption is that what you look up on Google and Twitter when no one is watching you reflects your real thoughts in all their dimensions, and that's where the most trivial thoughts can meet conceptual or political content.”

The technical infrastructures behind the remote and wireless connections are huge and complex

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What's the most surprising online search you've come across?

Part of the concept of this art installation is that I cannot know in advance what will be shown. For an artist, this loss of control is both stimulating and challenging. In addition, I can usually only ask local people to explain to me what the installation depicts, because I don't speak the language. This sometimes makes for very interesting interactions.

One story I can share about how I was surprised by a Google search was the time I showed this installation in France in the middle of the 2019 Yellow Vest protest period, when there were massive strikes across the country and many people were asking for the government to resign. It was very interesting to see that the installation amplified these voices. I think it really made sense as an art project in public spaces.

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What do you find interesting about transferring the digital world into the physical realm and confronting the public with it?

I've never felt comfortable with the discourse where everything digital is presented as “non-material” (remember the words) cloud, air-something, wireless, light, smart and so on). The technical infrastructures behind the remote and wireless connections are huge and complex, and we are now also collectively beginning to realise how much energy they require. As an artist, my response is to make these structures visible: although I have a visual approach that is quite minimalistic, all technical structures and cables are visible in my work. Of course, the fact that I often work on a large scale is also part of that idea.

What do you think of the NDSM as a stage for your work?

I like that this temporary work takes place in such a vibrant artistic spot among other artworks — some official, some unofficial — because the area is also an important place for street art. I also see an interesting parallel in the different ways of using text: from graffiti to several previous neon works commissioned by Stichting NDSM-werf, where freedom of expression is a central part.

click here to see more of Romain Tardy's work.

The work 'STARS' that you are presenting at the NDSM not only looks like a beautiful shimmering starry sky, but also has a purpose. Can you tell us a bit more about how the idea for this installation came about?

We live in a very turbulent time; the climate crisis is the most threatening challenge for humans. As an artist and designer, I see it as a design assignment. Every morning I ask myself, “Is it possible to design a better world? Is it possible to invent a better future?”

My daily routine consists of experiments, tests, research, failures, and sometimes successes. 'STARS' was created during one of these days when I was experimenting with the beneficial effects of specific light waves on stressed plants. A stressed plant does not work as it should; too much stress can lead to permanent damage or even death to the tree. To achieve the global plan for atmospheric carbon sequestration, we need to heal and support the existing flora. Plants use the power of our nearest star for their metabolic process. 'STARS' replicates it, giving extra vitality to the surrounding landscape and at the same time transforming it into a dreamscape.

The light installation uses the solar radiation it is exposed to during the day and returns it at night. The bulbs show different shades that mimic the solar spectrum. Can you delve deeper into the stylistic choices such as the different sizes of the light bulbs?

It all started with understanding what part of the solar spectrum plants use for their metabolic processes and how they can capture and release it when it isn't supplied naturally. After deciphering the physics behind the process, I simply let the plants choose their favorite colors.

With 'STARS', I wanted to bring the sky a little closer to people, to make them feel part of the cosmos. When you look at the sky at night, some stars look brighter than others; some closer, some more brilliant. I wanted to bring all of this to Earth, recreate the beauty of a starry night and bring people among the stars.

In addition, with 'STARS', you ask the question: “is it possible to stimulate nature?” This work shows that there are ways to support the existing flora. What do you think we can do ourselves as individuals to stimulate nature, especially in an urban environment?

Everyone can actively contribute to a better future. We have a great opportunity to shape tomorrow's world today. Through our choices, we are the true designer of our own and collective future.

Dealing respectfully and thoughtfully with our choices — our daily choices — will already make the whole system better. Every thing counts right now.

Plants are highly sensitive to noise, light and pollution. If we think carefully about our carbon footprint, we can make the plants work at their best and create the basis for sustaining life on Earth as we know it, which for me is extremely beautiful.

Do you see this light installation as a message to give people a sense of hope about the future?

Absolutely. For centuries and millennia, humans have been following the stars to navigate safely across the dark oceans. Now, I'm hoping the stars can help us navigate through this threatening time of change. I really hope that the people who are watching or reading about the installation will come up with other solutions to make this a better place. We've just started a plan to combat climate change and we need everyone to fix it. I am a strong believer in people, in their ability to adapt and respond to threats, in their resilience, and in their imagination. What I like most is watching the people who stand just below the installation with their noses turned to the sky and find a private moment in the infinity of the sky.

What do you think of the NDSM as a rather industrial stage for your work that is more grey than green?

Honestly, I couldn't think of a better place for the project. It is indeed grey, but the greenery is still growing and it is our duty to make it healthy and lush. A place like the NDSM is a place where many factors can strain the plants, but it's also where we make the strongest statement. We're not letting greyness win, we're fighting. We are doing everything we can to succeed.

I think we've sent a message to the whole world. Even when the conditions are unfavorable and even when it seems impossible, there are always lights in our sky that we should chase. After all, we're all made of stardust.

click here to see more work by Cosimo Scotucci and click here to follow him on Instagram.