“I don’t believe in the word contemporary art”, states contemporary artist Jan Van Imschoot. Born in Ghent, Belgium, 1962, the artist recalls his time at the Charlatan, a bar and night club in the city. He describes living in Ghent as a period of feeling “always young.” Later, he moved to France, where he now works in his studio. In his free time, he relaxes on his boat or spends time with his wife and cats.
“Two years ago, my mother passed away, and I am still holding onto a painting I promised her I would keep until her death. It is my favourite piece I have ever created – a self-portrait of me as a boy, which holds a personal significance to me. The painting captures a moment from when I was seven years old, waiting for my communion to become a member of the catholic church. You can see the discomfort in my expression – I was bored and unwell leading up to the event, something my mother knew. When I showed her the painting, she was in tears. She made me promise to keep it, me, until her death. I have decided never to sell it.”
“Coming from a working-class background, no one in my family had an interest in art until I discovered my passion for it. When I was ten, my school organised an excursion to the Sint-Baafskathedraal, where I saw the Ghent altarpiece by Jan and Hubert van Eyck for the first time. An elderly man revealed the painting through panels he had been working on for seventeen years. At that point, seventeen years was more than a lifetime for me; I was captivated. He opened the panels and, with that, a whole new world for me.”
“I began my studies at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Ghent. For the first time, my enthusiasm for school made me eager to wake up early. Drawing became a source of freedom, with every new work offering a sense of liberation. My parents were concerned about my future. They could not understand my desire to become an artist and warned that it would be my economic downfall. Everything shifted when my work started to sell. I was able to pay my taxes with my art. It felt like I was reclaiming the pride I had as a child, a moment of validation that made me feel a part of society. The same year, I was awarded the Culture Prize for Plastic Arts in Ghent. My father was in shock, my mother in awe, but the most gratifying moment of all was knowing my work had made it to a point where I could sustain myself — a turning point in my life and career.”
“I am not good at making contacts; over time, I have learned that success can be dangerous. It is important for me to stay under the radar, avoiding the pressure of external expectations so I can continue doing what I want. In the world of commercialised art, there are people trying to push you in a direction, making your work more marketable. That does not align with my values; my world is an illusion of liberty. I have always been true to myself, following my own path. Being a professional artist is not without challenges. When success comes, everyone applauds; when there is a dry spell, people assume you are finished. I never felt pressure, I made a conscious decision that my independence and freedom were not for sale. I have always had others to encourage me to push my art internationally, staying connected within the industry, but my sense of autonomy has driven me the most.”
“Even though I have spent my life creating art, painting hundreds of pieces and exhibiting them around the world, each new project feels like the first time I have ever painted. It is always a fresh start. To remain true to yourself as an artist, you must create a sense of purpose and meaning behind the work. Once a painting is finished, I let it go, even forgetting the meaning behind it.”
“When I turned 50, my wife and I moved to France. Today, I live a fulfilled life with my wife, who is my complete opposite, and that is what makes us work. I find peace in my studio or out on my boat. Looking ahead, I want to continue living with the changing seasons in France.”
