How did you find this beautiful building?

Borremans: I bought the building in 1994 with my girl-friend at the time. It was in ruins, we renovated it from top to bottom. I don't like the feeling of having to go outdoors to feel space, that is why this is a good building for me. But I have to be able to work at any moment, that's why it's essential my studio and house are one.

You never know when you might be inspired.

Borremans: Exactly. I am quite chaotic when I work, I need to have everything within reach. I don't need that much room for my paintings, I usually work small. In principle I could work in the kitchen of a small house. Art is created by necessity, the artist's studio is here (taps his head). Not having a studio is a bad excuse to not work, even if I were homeless I'd keep on working. Every limitation can be a blessing.

You're originally from Dendermonde, how did you end up in Ghent?

Borremans: I went to school here; 'Vrije Grafiek' at Sint Lucas. Afterwards I lived in Brussels with my girl-friend. I taught evening classes in Ghent and she worked during the day, we hardly saw each other and needed two cars. It wasn't easy for a young couple, so out of pure misery we moved back to Ghent. (quickly) Oops, I shouldn't have said that I guess? (laughs).

You stayed here, I assume you didn't mind.

Borremans: Not at all! It’s just that at the time I was really enjoying living in the cosmopolitan city of Brussels.
Actually it doesn't really matter where I live, but here in St. Amandsberg I feel very much at ease as an artist. For my exhibitions I regularly have to be in New York or Tokyo where you are driven around in limousines and invited to exclusive parties. When I come home from one of these trips and am able to ride my bicycle over Ghent's cobblestones I am a very happy man (laughs).

Have you ever considered living abroad?

Borremans: My daughter goes to school here, I am tied to Ghent for a while still. Soon I'll have a country house in Wallonia in the middle of nowhere – I'm looking forward to retreating there from time to time.

Wallonia is kind of like being abroad as well.

Borremans: To be quite honest, I like the climate and the light in Belgium. I like bad weather. I even considered naming my company Bad Weather Production.

What name did you choose?

Borremans: ‘Michaël Borremans’ (laughs).

Currently there is a Borremans exposition in Denver with the great title ‘Looking at the face I had before the world was made’ – it seems to describe you perfectly.

Borremans: Be that as it may but I didn't come up with it, the exposition fits in a series of six different expositions around the same theme. But I agree, it's a great title.

The sentence is from a poem of John Keats.

Borremans: A good trick. In my spare time I write songs and nowadays I am not averse to using fragments from literature. Plenty of inspiration.

How important are the titles of your paintings?

Borremans: Very important, they are an essential part of the work. Nowadays, we look at art with the title, it's a conceptual given. A title can lead or mislead you, it makes you think. Take my painting of a man in a straitjacket with the title Advantage – the title is an extra element you provide. Sometimes it leads to confusion, as does the piece itself. The objective is that you question your point of view as a spectator.

You play guitar and write songs. Do you know of any musician who is a good painter or vice versa?

Borremans: I think Bent Van Looy of Das Pop is a decent painter, although I don't know whether he still does it. Don Vliet, alias Captain Beefheart, was already a good painter before he became known as a musician. Why do you ask?

Because good musicians rarely make good painters and vice versa.

Borremans: I'm not a technically gifted guitarist and I'm a bad musician. It's a hobby. A way to let off steam. My group The Singing Painters regularly meets up to improvise, our repertoire ranges from very modest to pure, freewheeling rock’n roll. The songs I write I write for myself, I don't feel the slightest need to tell the world. You have to choose, I find. My paintwork also contains a lot of rock’n roll.

Do you have music on when you paint?

Borremans: Never. I don't hear it anyway, and when I do hear it it works on my nerves (laughs). I am extremely concentrated in a kind of Medieval atmosphere: daylight and complete silence.

Do you still paint in your suit?

Borremans: That's a ritual, yes. I can't produce nice work if I wear dirty clothes - the nicer the suit, the better the painting. The ritual has to do with respect, respect for what you do. When people used to go to church, they wore suits as well, didn't they? Well, painting is my church! I have about twenty suits but some of my suits seem to have bad vibes because I produce bad work if I wear them. I really must give them away (laughs). Part of it is superstition of course, just like footballers who always wear the same underpants for an important match. Sometimes I paint on my bare feet and in the summer I sometimes paint in the nude. That's when I'm the painting nudist.

You're just a hippie, Michaël!

Borremans: Exactly! ‘I'm a hippie’, and there's nothing you can do about that (laughs).

Are you a born painter?

Borremans: I only started painting at the age of thirty but I have always worked with images. It was simply the way it was, I never asked any questions. Everything starts with the imagination. I could also have been a writer, I can also work with language, but I never applied myself. I drew. With a pencil and a sheet of paper you can evoke a suggestion you could not express in language. In a drawing everything is possible, not in a painting.

Why not?

Borremans: Because the impact of a painting is much greater. A drawing is like literature, more fleeting. A painting is a presence. Painting has been around for as long as people have. There are so many paintings we have in our collective memory, as a stage it's sacred. When you make a mistake in a painting it's a big mistake!
Look at Breughel. His paintings depict more than just a scene, sometimes they're an entire world view. A complete reality. With a thick frame around it, very condensed. I find it very fascinating.

Do you prefer compliments about the content or the aesthetic aspect of your work?

Borremans: For me the content prevails. Aesthetics is a tool, a lubricant. Although of course I'm happy it's there. Compliments go in one ear, out the other. I am always thinking about the next piece, the next problem. But when I make a good painting I drink champagne, invite some friends over and take them out to a restaurant!

When is a painting good?

Borremans: When I surprise myself with what I made. Then it's party time. That's when I want journalists to come knocking at the door, not when some piece was sold for a lot of money at an auction.