Simon Willems – Practice and Research Integration
Simon Willems is a visual artist who often explores themes of narrative, identity, social behavior, and idealized realities, usually through figurative painting. His work frequently blurs the line between fiction and documentation, and his research examines how aesthetic form and conceptual content can merge meaningfully.
Key Observations from Willems’ Case Study (based on typical structure):
- Research informs practice:
- Willems doesn’t treat theory as separate from his studio work — instead, he uses conceptual frameworks (e.g., social psychology, utopian communities, or cultural critique) to shape the themes and forms of his painting.
- Narrative and fiction:
- His paintings often present fictional spaces or characters, but are grounded in real historical or cultural contexts. This shows a creative loop between imagination and critical inquiry.
- Reflective practice:
- He discusses how journaling, writing, and sketching help process the tensions between his intellectual ideas and aesthetic decisions.
Combining Practice and Research
Finding Poetic Voice Through Creative Integration
In my creative journey so far, I have come to realise that my work is deeply shaped by a dialogue between inner reflection and external influence, much like Simon Willems, who bridges practice and research to explore psychological and cultural themes. I, too, work in the intersection of life, memory, philosophy, and creative expression — and I see my art (both written and visual) as a way of giving form to thought.
Like Willems, I often draw from personal experience: the dislocation of moving across countries, the tension between family and ambition, the longing for connection. These are not just biographical details; they become metaphors, symbols, and recurring patterns in my work. My textile practice, particularly through knitwear and pattern-making, is more than technical. It’s tactile memory. Each thread, loop, or collar I make contains its own poetics, an architecture of resilience, of repetition, of softness under pressure.
A large part of my research is etymological; a personal obsession with Greek words that have survived into English: pathos, fantasia, melancholia, nostalgia, aletheia (truth), pandemonium, demon, idol, sycophant. These words carry with them both ancient meanings and emotional resonance. I often work these words into my poetry and thinking as anchors — not just as linguistic references, but as emotional blueprints that guide my thoughts and form the language of my work.
For example, the word disaster (from Greek dys-aster, “bad star”) evokes how fate and feeling intersect, how one can feel undone not by actions, but by forces beyond control. Similarly, idol and icon, both rooted in the Greek eidolon (image, phantom) help me explore my tendency to idealize people and then suffer from those fantasies. That self-awareness now shapes my creative decisions: I use irony to twist romantic or idyllic phrases; I expose the cracks behind the beautiful surfaces.
Simon Willems speaks about the balance between narrative and abstraction, between research and emotion. I feel I’m trying to find a similar balance, especially when I turn personal experiences into poetic reflections or transform lived reality into something metaphorical. I’m not interested in “documenting” life as it is, but rather in creating a resonant: something that invites others in, even if the source is deeply personal.
I often reflect on artists like Banksy and Basquiat, whose work mixes text, image, and socio-political commentary. Their blend of accessibility and complexity speaks to my own desire to merge layers visual, poetic, personal, ironic. I’m also inspired by poets like Cavafy, who used philosophical restraint and emotional clarity to write about desire, time, and exile.
Ultimately, my research is not purely academic. It’s lived. It’s felt. My poems, textile pieces, and reflections are ways of working through what it means to be human, foreign, male, father, son, artist, all at once. Each day I try to find meaning in moments, or give voice to emotions I don’t yet understand.
I don’t want to romanticize my struggles, but I do want to transform them. That’s what creative practice does: it makes pain meaningful, it turns longing into pattern, it creates rhythm from chaos.
As I continue with my Negotiated Project, I want to deepen this practice of bridging theory and making — combining Greek words with emotional insight, visual work with poetic voice, reflection with clarity. I’m starting to find not only my artistic voice, but also my view — a philosophical position that comes from within but looks outward.
This is not just art for me. It’s survival. It’s memory. It’s the quiet act of speaking truth (aletheia) — and being heard.
Critical Review Plan
Critical Review: Between Memory and Irony Finding Poetic Voice Through Creative Arts and Cultural Reflection
Introduction
This review reflects on the conceptual and artistic development of my Negotiated Project, where I explore how memory, language, and irony can reshape personal and cultural narratives. My practice merges creative writing with visual experimentation, often employing bilingual (Greek-English) wordplay and classical references. Through this blend, I seek to form a poetic voice that is at once introspective and culturally engaged.
Critical Context
The thematic core of my work revolves around romanticised imagery—nostalgia, longing, memory—and its ironic disruption. I am not interested in directly documenting life; instead, I aim to transform experience into metaphor, symbol, and language. This transformation allows for personal emotion to become universally accessible. In doing so, I’ve been influenced by artists such as Banksy, Warhol, and Basquiat, who demonstrate how humour, layering, and subversion can convey critique while remaining aesthetically engaging.
The Greek language plays a key role here—not only in terms of content, but in structure and meaning. Words such as “idol,” “melancholy,” “pathos,” and “pandemonium” (pan + daimones = all demons) become starting points for reflection. My own bilingual identity allows me to navigate between English and Greek in ways that produce both irony and resonance. For instance, “disaster” (from dys + aster, or bad star) becomes a poetic metaphor not just for failure, but for misaligned destiny.
Research and Influences
- Banksy: for his ironic juxtaposition of text and image.
- Andy Warhol: for transforming mundane imagery into cultural critique through repetition and surface aesthetics.
- Jean-Michel Basquiat: for layering visual symbols and handwritten text, creating emotional tension.
- Nikos Kavvadias: for his seafaring poems full of solitude, nostalgia, and philosophical yearning.
Beyond individuals, I’ve also explored philosophical concepts such as aletheia (truth as uncovering), eros, and catharsis. These ancient ideas filter into my poems as both language and lived experience.
Studio Practice and Reflection
I use journaling, sketching, and walking as part of my reflective process. Writing often begins as a spontaneous voice note or a visual impression, which then develops into a structured poetic fragment. These texts often evolve into image-text combinations using platforms like Canva. I experiment with layout, fonts, and background imagery to test the emotional or ironic weight of the language.
Recent poems like “The Sycophant and the Star” and “Orchestra of My Mind” exemplify my approach:
- Sycophant (from the Greek for fig-revealer) reflects how noble roles can become corrupted, echoing my own resistance to being seen only as a provider or pleaser.
- Orchestra (Greek: orcheisthai = to dance) is reimagined as a metaphor for mental chaos and longing, where pandemonium, nostalgia, and eros perform together.
Interdisciplinary Relationships
My project blends:
- Poetry: the central medium for personal voice and metaphor
- Visual/Text Design: image, font, layout, and composition create new poetic layers
- Cultural Reflection: philosophical and linguistic references ground my work historically and intellectually
Rather than viewing these disciplines separately, I treat them as overlapping languages. Each informs and reshapes the other. The poem becomes a visual object; the image becomes a poetic fragment. This dialogue allows deeper reflection.
Conclusion
My work exists between intimacy and distance, beauty and irony, memory and critique. The fusion of Greek etymology, philosophical reflection, and experimental poetic form is not simply stylistic—it’s a way of locating my voice within a wider cultural and emotional context. What began as a personal exploration of loss, longing, and survival has evolved into an aesthetic framework that I believe is both relevant and distinctive.
As I move forward, I aim to deepen this integration, refine my visual-literary balance, and continue exploring how ancient words and ideas can speak powerfully in the present. My goal is to let language—and especially poetic language—become not just a medium of expression, but a method of discovery
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