Sunflowers for spring

What pieces or projects have you been working on lately?
Last year, I self-published my second photobook, Sunflowers for Spring. It’s a photography project that reflects on the taboo surrounding grief and mental suffering.

What did you learn (or unlearn) while working on them?
Good things take time. I’m someone who likes to see quick results, or at least I used to. But I’ve been working on this project for four years. In the beginning, I was very stressed because I couldn’t see the final outcome. Luckily, I had a great mentor who convinced me that if I kept working and photographing in my own way, something would eventually emerge. Over time, I started to enjoy the process and learned to trust it. After a few years, I began to notice a red thread running through the work. Suddenly, pictures I had taken three years earlier made more sense when combined with more recent images.

What words, ideas or emotions were going through your head?
Time, change, love, and hope are central themes in this project. I was often overwhelmed by a mix of opposite emotions. The project is very personal. It reflects on the sudden loss of my father, who took his life on the first day of spring, 11 years ago. Mental suffering is a heavy subject, but I also want to create images that convey hope and recognition. I’m not very good with words, which is why I try to communicate through my images.

Were there any conversations, movies, music, or books that made their way into that work?
Aftersun is a movie about a young girl, Sophie, who looks back on a summer holiday she spent with her father when she was 11. While they enjoy small adventures together and she films moments on a camcorder, subtle cracks reveal that her father is struggling with depression and inner turmoil. As an adult, Sophie reflects on these memories and the fragments of video, trying to understand her father more deeply. The film blends nostalgia with a quiet sense of loss, showing how memories shape the way we hold on to those we’ve loved.

This movie somehow inspired me to use archival material of my father, who used to film with his camcorder all the time. I found a box of old videocassettes that I had never seen before. In the beginning of this project, I spread sunflower seeds to my father’s friends. I chose sunflowers very intuitively. I think they look hopeful, bright, big, and fragile, just like my father. Three years later, I looked at the long-lost videocassettes of my father. Without knowing it, he had filmed us while painting sunflowers. For me, the circle was complete.

What's been the most difficult thing you've faced recently in your creative process?
Since I try to continue working analog in a time where everything has to happen as fast as possible, meeting deadlines can be challenging. This process takes much more time than digital shooting. But again, good things take time.

What is your favorite restaurant and what do you recommend we order?
For an aperitif, I would go for a good glass of wine at Winebar ONA, in Ghent. For dinner, I would definitely choose Italian. Probably something with pulpo and pasta. I can always eat pasta.

If your life were a movie this month, what would it be called and who would write the soundtrack?
Last month, I visited the final exhibition at the Centre Pompidou in Paris, which will close for renovations for five years. One of my favorite photographers, Wolfgang Tillmans, was presenting a large retrospective. He combines his photography with video material. The video that caught my attention was a seemingly banal study of peas boiling in a pot of water. Yet, the peas reveal a rhythmic movement in the water and a sense of solidarity between forms over time. By focusing on these minor details from everyday life, the work explores the formation of community.

The choice of soundtrack adds a different kind of vibe: Le Vent Nous Portera by Noir Désir. The song suggests that everything, our moments of joy, our struggles, even our very existence, is temporary and will eventually be carried away by the wind. It carries a bittersweet acceptance that change, loss, and impermanence are natural.

Recommend one or more artists you follow who inspire you, and tell us what you like most about their work or their way of working.
Lara Gasparotto is a Belgian photographer I discovered during my student years. She taught me that photography has no boundaries. She photographs her surroundings and friends, prints her photos on paper she finds at flea markets or collects herself, and draws or paints on her images. She made me realize that there are no rules, and that you don’t have to look far to find inspiration.