Peter Depelchin in conversation with SARAHCROWN
We had the privilege to sit down with Peter Depelchin (1985, Belgium) to learn more about his intricate drawing practice.
Peter Depelchin in the studio
1. What does a typical day in your studio look like? Do you follow any routines or rituals to get into the right creative state?
I usually get up quite early. Usually, that's around 6:20 a.m. Once I'm up, I make breakfast for my family. Then, when they leave for work and school, I start working. If I'm lucky, that's at 8:00 a.m. The earlier, the better. So, when I suffer from insomnia in the early morning hours, I am a happy man. Apart from starting work, there is no real ritual. I often write down a list of things I have to do or finish each day, and when I'm done, I check them off. It’s a helpful way to track my progress. While drawing, thousands of ideas come to mind, and the sheets of paper that I use to prevent smudging serve as notebooks. I make notes while listening to podcasts, radio shows, and audiobooks, and sometimes they end up as ideas. I am also a fanatic about phone calls. I can talk for hours while drawing and chat about anything and everything. At noon, I take a short lunch break, and then I work for another three to four hours. After my evening routines, I often plan one last drawing session for the day. These sessions are reserved for smaller projects and paperwork. My creative state is always present. My mind keeps traveling day and night. Conscious thoughts, experiences, conversations, daydreams, and dreams all find their way into my artwork.
L'oiseleur, 2025, color pencil and graphite pencil, pen and ink on Canson paper, 39.5 × 22.4 cm
2. Art history, literature, and astrophysical imagery are all key sources in your work. Do you see these as distinct threads, or are they part of one interconnected system within your visual language?
In my artwork, everything is interconnected. Often, interests that seem distinct at first slip into my work as individual studies or examinations of specific art historical cases, such as Persian miniature, or astrophysical phenomena, such as black holes. Gradually, however, they become intertwined and ultimately take on great importance in my drawn universe. Nowadays, my artwork is an intricate web of connections that functions as an endlessly nourishing structure. It is structured as a contemporary cosmogony, in which every element gradually finds its place.
Peter Depelchin in the studio
Detail of one of Peter Depelchin’s intricate drawings
3. You often stage real-life tableaux vivants with family and friends. How does this embodied practice inform the drawings themselves, and what kind of energy or intimacy does it bring into your work?
The "tableau vivant" is at the heart of my practice. Its importance dates back to my youth. I grew up in a family of theater makers. My father wrote and directed fifteen plays, all of which were successfully staged. I believe that my work with tableau vivants is a remnant of that inspiring period of my childhood. In my opinion, creating art is modeling time. As an artist, you place yourself within a historical perspective that goes back millennia. It's important to be aware of that. The art history that inspires me is trapped in my mind and stirred up with all kinds of other elements. However, the resulting mixture needs to comprehend our contemporary era as well. Tableau Vivant is, in a sense, my tool for grasping different layers of time and evoking a certain universality and timelessness. Once I start a study, I immediately know who should model for it. Rather than typecasting, I prefer soulcasting—who could capture the essence of my desired outcome?
Minotauromachia, 2025, Color pencil, graphite pencil, pen and Chinese ink on Canson paper, 29.7x40.5 cm
4. In an era of image overload and rapid visual consumption, your drawings demand a slower, more attentive gaze. What do you hope viewers take away from this slower encounter with your cosmogony?
In this era of image consumption, I expect the spectator to slow down and read my drawings. I want them to follow the compositional lines, appreciate the colors, and savor the textures and the philosophy behind the use of objects and symbols. In my opinion, this is a simple necessity. I also see this work as a counter to contemporary processes and as a way to position myself in the art world. This makes me avant-garde, or even iconoclastic, depending on how you view my work in relation to today's trends. My creations offer viewers a chance to explore a universe that is not self-reflective. Instead, it touches their inner fibers by embodying time, space, and experience.
La Mascarade dans la nef des fous, 2024, red, blue, turquoise and graphite pencil, pen and ink on Canson paper, 29 x 42 cm
5. If you could collaborate with any figure—living or dead, from any field (art, science, philosophy)—who would it be, and what kind of work might come out of that meeting?
What a question! If I could collaborate with anyone, it would be Giordano Bruno, the mystic philosopher, cosmologist, and scientist who unfortunately died in 1600, burned as a sorcerer at the Campo de' Fiori in Rome. I would like to discuss poetry, theater, and the meaning of the universe with Victor Hugo, but unfortunately, he left us long ago. More recently, I was profoundly shaken by Thomas Mann’s novel The Magic Mountain. Rather than a conversation with Mann, I would have a fruitful discussion with Settembrini, one of the main characters in the book. Yesterday, I listened to a podcast about the macrocosmos. The professor interviewed, Hélène Courtois, mapped a large (though still very small) part of our universe. She refined the edges of our mother supercluster, "Laniakea," and named it. Now, she has defined the neighboring five superclusters as well. I am not sure what a collaboration would look like, but it could be very interesting.
Peter Depelchin in the studio
Peter Depelchin will be part of our KIAF 2025 presentation. For more information please reach out at info@sarahcrown.com
ABOUT THE ARTIST
The artistic practice of Peter Depelchin (°1985, Ostend, Belgium; lives and works in New York, USA) consists largely of a new contemporary approach to the tableau vivant, built on a web of inspirations drawn from art history, literature, and high-resolution astrophysical imagery. The works evoke mystical cults, distorted and dreamlike architectures, and astronomical phenomena that seem to be traces of a bygone past. They bring together the signs and symbols of an iconography that makes myth resonate with the contemporary world. The meticulous use of geometric motifs and an eclectic approach to the representation of space produce abstract features and artistic outcomes that are both stimulated and challenged by a radically archetypal, allegorical, and theatrical approach to figuration. The staging of real-life “tableaux vivants” involving the artist's family and friends contributes concretely to this dialogue between naturalism and abstraction. The juxtaposition of these seemingly anachronistic elements inevitably evokes a certain timelessness, at the crossroads of past and future. Through his incomparable aesthetic language, the artist creates his own cosmogony, shedding new light on contemporary drawing and questioning the current context of unlimited image availability.