Born in Antwerp, Belgium, in 1958, Jan Fabre is the epitome of the modern Renaissance man.
Unanimously regarded as one of the most influential and original figures in today’s art scene, Fabre has nimbly and successfully navigated various artistic avenues for almost four decades. From sculpture to design; from drawing to performances and playwriting – Jan Fabre has proved his versatility time and time again.
His multifaceted practice conflates an ever evolving technique and visual language with a constant yearning for innovation. Rich in references to the work of Flemish masters such as Hieronymus Bosch, Jan Van Eyck and Pieter Brueghel, Fabre’s artistic oeuvre explores notions of the body as a symbolic entity, of metamorphosis and transformation, while reflecting on the interrelationship between art-making and science, human and animal.
The only author to have been awarded the Cour d’Honneur at the Festival of Avignon on three separate occasions (2001, 2005, and 2006), Fabre is the first living artist to have featured in large-scale solo shows at prestigious venues such as the Louvre Museum in Paris (2008) and the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg (2017).
Running until 25th January 2025, Songs of the Gypsies (A Tribute to Django Reinhardt and Django Gennaro Fabre) is Jan Fabre’s new solo exhibition at Mucciaccia Gallery, London. The show was conceived as a continuation of Songs of the Canaries (A Tribute to Emiel Fabre and Robert Stroud) – 12th October – 23rd November, Mucciaccia Gallery – which offered a poignant reflection on the fragility of life and the pursuit of dreams.
Bringing together a selection of never-before-seen works including three large Carrara marble sculptures and several drawings, Songs of the Gypsies draws from personal memories and the artist’s love of jazz music to delve into themes of transience, creation and spiritual transcendence. Informed by Fabre’s abiding fascination with symbolism and ancient traditions, the artworks on display exude a distinctive energy and liveliness that leaves the viewer to ponder the marvel and frailty of the human condition.
1883 Arts Editor caught up with Jan Fabre to talk art, jazz music and personal memories, and to find out more about Songs of the Gypsies.
Hello Jan, thank you for finding time for 1883 Magazine. I would like to ask you about Songs of the Gypsies. How did the exhibition come to be?
The exhibition I present at the Mucciaccia Gallery in London and in Rome, Songs of the Gypsies, emerged from the profound love I have for my son, Django Gennaro Fabre, and my admiration for the legendary musician Django Reinhardt. Naming my son Django was a tribute to Reinhardt’s genius, a fellow Belgian who transformed adversity into innovative gypsy jazz.
My son, I love him; he is the beginning of everything, his innocence and endless curiosity are a never-ending source of inspiration for me. Through these works, I wanted to honour both Reinhardt’s brilliance and the infinite joy my son brings into my life – a wandering mind, forever grasping at wonders and worlds.
Can you give us an insight into what we may expect from the show?
It features three marble sculptures of my son Django when he was six months old, but scaled to my own size. You’ll see him flying – The Freefaller (of Art) – sitting with the peace sign – The Peacemaker (of Art) – and crawling – The Partisan (of Art). I wanted each pose to be filled with a childlike energy, something that resonates joy and curiosity. On his back, I’ve placed the musical scores by Django Reinhardt, a nod to the spirit of improvisation and resilience.
What makes this exhibition very special for me is the collaboration between Django and me. While we listened to Reinhardt’s music, pieces like Minor Swing and Nuages, Django just painted without rules. I then added my own touches with pencil. His uninhibited energy merged with my detail. It was just an exchange of energy and joy. The beauty of creating together.
Music, and jazz in particular, plays an important role in Songs of the Gypsies; how did you become interested in jazz music?
I certainly feel a deep connection with jazz musicians. The night is my sanctuary, a space free from taboos. For me, being alone is like being a jazz musician playing their instrument in solitude. When I’m alone at night I am compelled to write and draw. It’s as essential as breathing – my oxygen. On a small piece of paper, I can create an entire universe. In one second, I can turn a square into a flying carpet. It is the easiest way to turn an insect into a celestial body.
Everything is possible in a drawing. My imagination can go wild because everything can be drawn. It is thinking by drawing, and drawing by thinking. These days I still do everything by hand, I don’t use a computer. For me writing is also drawing, because when I’m writing I often ‘scrap’ or discard texts. Many of these remnants often transform into drawings. I feel this really connects to the improvisational essence of jazz.
And how does music inspire and inform your work?
As a child, music was always present in my life. My father had a love for jazz, and it became a part of the atmosphere at home. My mother, on the other hand, introduced me to the French chansonniers like Boris Vian, Lucien Delille, Georges Brassens, and Léo Ferré. This mix of influences shaped the way I think about music and sound.
From the beginning I have always used different media; I never felt obliged to follow the rules of the art world. For that reason, I created works such as my The Bic Art Music Performances (1979, No. 20) to try and find a mediating position between visual arts and music. For me when you listen to music you can hear and feel the physicality of different types of drawings. The drawing as a musical score. Aside from the memories with my father, jazz, with its improvisation and complexity, always felt natural to me.
As you were saying, the exhibition is a tribute to your son, Django Gennaro Fabre, and to Django Reinhardt. What is it about Reinhardt and his music that you connect with? What makes him such an important figure in the music industry, in your view?
Django Reinhardt’s life has always struck a chord with me. His mastery with only four working fingers speaks to a human capacity for reinvention – a kind of metamorphosis through limitation. This is something I explore constantly in my work, this idea of metamorphosis: how fragility and strength coexist, how constraints can drive creativity.
Django’s music feels alive, like it’s constantly adapting, shifting, no matter how many times I listen to it – an example of resilience made tangible (or audible). Naming my son Django was a tribute to this spirit. Songs of the Gypsies is an homage, not just to Reinhardt, but to this idea of flexibility – of freedom. It’s about the art of resilience. Maybe beauty or art can heal the wounds in our hearts caused by the wars in our minds.
The work on display at Mucciaccia Gallery is related to personal memories and experiences; I wonder, what do you hope visitors will take away from the exhibition?
My father once told me, “Jan, when you taste something, taste it slowly,” and this has stayed with me. It taught me to savor life and the materials I work with, allowing them to reveal their story. I hope the public approaches my work the same way, taking the time to truly taste it slowly.
For me, the audience is both voyeur and mirror. An audience judges my work – I hope! – in a positive or negative light, but I never let their vision have an impact on my future creations. I don’t want to prescribe how someone should feel about my work. Rather, I want my works to remain suspended in the air, a free spirit, alive and spontaneous, untethered by rules or expectations. I never start a project with the intention of provoking. My most sincere wish is to heal the wounds in the viewers’ minds, to shift their thinking in some way and change the way they feel. All my work is fed by curiosity and a need to delve into a world that always brings me back to the position of an outsider as an artist.
Out of curiosity, how would you describe your approach to making art?
I’m above all a servant of beauty. It begins with pleasure and joy. Then there is curiosity. If you have to choose between experience and curiosity, curiosity must win. I have 40 years of experience, but I always choose curiosity. I destroy what’s already made and always start from scratch. When you think you know everything because you have some experience, you’re lost. It’s all over.
Discipline and repetition, too, lead to freedom. The more I draw or sculpt turtles, the more I understand them – and yet, the more questions I have. With every discovery, there is room to go deeper.
Even today, I believe that you cannot create or make art: I would almost say that art comes out of the pores of my skin. We have a beautiful word in Flemish, afscheiden, which means to secrete. You do not make it, it comes out of you…
Your work straddles visual art, theatre and literature; if you don’t mind me asking, which medium do you find you are most drawn to at present and why?
I am on my knees for beauty and I choose the best medium for what the idea demands from me. Because I am a consilience artist. All these mediums are essential to my practice; each enriches, influences and shapes the other.
My artistic universe and oeuvre are like a butterfly. The body of the butterfly represents my performance art. One wing of the butterfly represents my visual arts. The other wing represents my theatre and dance creations. Literature intertwines with all these forms. I believe that the real vanguard is rooted in tradition. You can’t be a vanguardist in a vacuum. For example, in visual arts, giants like Hieronymus Bosch, Van Eyck, Van Dyck, Rubens, and Bruegel still influence me. Even today, I find myself stealing from these masters.
Yet, at the same time I practice the art of an escape artist. I always escape from the art world, I always escape from the theatre world, I always escape from the performance art world. And even from the literary world.
As a final question, what does the future hold in store for you?
To become a young artist. It takes a lifetime to become a young artist. And it’s true that the more I get from life, the more I can give back.
Songs of the Gypsies (A Tribute to Django Reinhardt and Django Gennaro Fabre) is on display at Mucciaccia Gallery, London, until 25th January 2025.
For further information on the show go to www.mucciaccia.com and for Jan Fabre go to www.janfabre.be.
Interview Jacopo Nuvolari
