“Off-Season”with Karl Philips

April 17th - May 9th, 2026.

‘Off-season’ names the moment when activity slows. Infrastructure pauses. Maintenance begins. For Karl Philips this interval becomes a point of observation.

A diving mask is transformed into an object that feels both politically charged and adventurous. Functioning as a body cam, it captures both worlds simultaneously. Nearby, a beach umbrella lies collapsed. Fabric has been replaced by industrial metal. The object resembles both shield and weapon. The work recalls an image widely circulated after a confrontation between tourists on the beach of Blankenberge in the summer of 2020. Removed from the event, the umbrella returns as a fragment, familiar yet unsettled.

Across the exhibition, everyday objects reappear slightly altered: a diving mask (‘Scuba’, 2025), sandals (‘Teva’, 2025), references to informal street economies (‘Liquidity’, 2021), and global payment systems (‘Mastercard’, ‘Bankcontact’, ‘Maestro’, 2025). Each object points outward: to routes, to exchange, to movement across borders and/ or markets.

Downstairs in the gallery, for ‘Les Routiers sont Sympa’ (2025), Philips compiled the names of transport companies encountered on Belgian motorways. The material is assembled in a watercolor poster drawing that echoes roadside advertising while introducing references to well-known Belgian artists. Here, the focus lies on a series of works that turn toward the landscapes of logistics and transit crossing Belgium. Highways, trucks, and service stations usually pass unnoticed. Here they become sites of attention.

Other works extend this field of attention. ‘Drive Light’ and  ‘Drive Night’ (2025) reflect on continuous mobility and the infrastructures that sustain it. ‘Trickle Down’ (2025) and ‘Go Pro’ (2024) shift the focus toward the delicate reciprocity between human activity and natural environments. In Philips’ installations, objects do not illustrate these systems. They linger within them. Slightly displaced, they allow everyday structures—routes, transactions, crossings—to briefly surface.

Amid the ordinary language of transport culture, it asks a simple question: what else passes through these routes? What happens after? (‘Van de Poel Transport’, 2026)

The work moves between documentation and speculation. Each piece is interconnected, delving into the delicate balance between tourism and migration. In an era where some capture their lives with GoPro cameras, others are simply documenting their survival.