FROM TO EXPOPLU TO POST

On April 8, 1994, a vehicle named EXPO P.L.U. was launched at a notary office in Nijmegen. It was the formal establishment of something that had existed for some time, and in various forms, with the title “Kunstenaarsinitiatief Paraplufabriek”. From its location at Van Oldenbarneveltstraat 63a, this vehicle has been delving into the artistic landscape with an exceptional amount of energy for decades now.

Thus far in 2021, the vehicle has proven to be a three-stage missile. Expoplu is about to break new ground. The third stage launches under the new name POST.

In the early ’90s, Kunstenaarsinitiatief Paraplufabriek was founded in the mid-sized factory hall of the formerly squatted building “De Paraplufabrieken”.

This art initiative with its sizable exhibition space has been a catalyst for experimentation and free artistic thinking since its conception.

Within the atmospheric, idealistic live-work complex, the EXPO immediately proves to be the artistically odd one out. Back then, a show was simply called 'exhibition' or 'exposition'. The construction of Museum Het Valkhof had not even started yet. In this city generally known as 'left-wing alternative', there were similar spirited initiatives, however, such as Extrapool and Beam.

The unpolished atmosphere that the squatters brought with them resonated with the Kunstenaarsinitiatief Paraplufabriek. The mini-organisation runs like a small and fierce, but also sometimes stuttering, engine that requires constant tinkering in order for it to move forward as effectively as possible. Improvisation and 'not too long term' thinking are its core strengths, but they occasionally expose organisational flaws as well.

At the time, the exhibition roster was assembled annually by think tanks and ‘concept creators', mostly hailing from the art world. Initially, the artists were the face of the organisation. They employ their visual desires and any conceivable means in creating fantastic and groundbreaking projects. Art historians or full-time curators were not part of the equation yet. (They were only allowed to join later on... :-)

The initiative rests on four job positions made possible by the municipality. Together these four employees reflect, plan, stick stamps, print, and convene in a tiny office of only just 10 square meters. But with good cause: to create a bold and almost limitless stage for guest artists, either within or outside of the exhibition space.

Like any organisation, Kunstenaarsinitiatief Paraplufabriek had their supposed ups and downs too. At the opening of an exhibition by an artist from Vienna in 2001, for instance, only two visitors were present: a board member and an employee. Its theme, the poignant refugee problem, would normally be dear to many people, but unfortunately there was too little attention for PR at the time.

Luckily, however, there were many more projects that you should’ve bloody attended. Actual FOMO headliners. Explosive, defiant, imposing, poetic, audacious, beautiful. Afterwards, you will be cycling home drunk with a good feeling, excited with the energy that rushed through the artistic space with an unbridled spirit. The sometimes unusual combinations of crudeness, beauty, humour, disruptive absurdity and new imagery, coupled with socially intrusive processes, have yielded extraordinary projects these days.

Usually the exhibitions are organised in the hall, but every year there is also a substantial project elsewhere in the city. This can be at any place in town or even beyond, such as villages, community centres or even 'über die Grenze': in Germany. For example, eight installations were placed in eight shipping containers in the Kronenburgerpark (Standplaats, 2002).

Throughout the city, emergent fashion photography was displayed on ‘mupi’s’, large light boxes for advertising (Tegenlicht, 2000). Another project was the “disruption of a thousand-and-one city restrictions” as part of Para-city in 2001. There were stunning Korean women clad in traditional kimonos as well, blowing autumn leaves from the Marienburg Chapel with petrol-powered leaf blowers (Zucht, 2003).

Those outdoor projects with distinguished titles often leave their mark, as they drain the energy of the organisation. However, they also offer a lot in return, to the city, and certainly to the participating artists: Tegenlicht (2000), Intercom/para-city (2001), Standplaats (2002), Zucht (2003), HomeLessHome (2004) and Hidden Rhythms (2005) were a springboard for many, now well-known artists.

In the meantime, the initiative's name is changed to Expoplu, a change that ignites stage two of the three-stage missile. The subsidised jobs have slowly but completely been cut. Despite some dynamic years, the Mondrian Fund is no longer really interested in our cause. The organisation moves back to square one. Artists could hardly be paid in those days. A new strategy was sought after, a way out, an opportunity to return our former status of catalyst. But quitting all together was also in consideration. Turn the key and leave.

Fortunately, the story continues. Out of necessity, new partnerships are forged with the university and art academies. From there, we have organised programs with teams of one-year curators and new think tanks, often consisting of a mix of visual artists and art historians. 

Together, we have discovered a new energy and slowly but surely found our way back to the present. Once again, the rough and rickety factory hall is filled with challenging and controversial exhibitions, which fortunately means that we have also found resonance again. We drew a positive response from funds and governments, allowing the organisation the ability to grow again. A young and loyal team of freelancers has now been working hard to ensure all aspects required in a contemporary cultural organisation are met.

In the summer of 2010, a small caravan makes its way to Germany, two cars escorting a 1985 Nissan Prairie hauling a trailer and an oversized kit. From Nijmegen, to Dortmund, to Essen and back to Arnhem. For the nomadic exhibition Brachen Siedlung, our delegation builds a strangely idyllic, mobile landscape, a very impractical and clumsy outcome of an optimistic quest for the functional design of a travelling exhibition encampment. It actually ends up a failure, but the project actually fares better because of it. This illustrates the pleasure, optimism and the inquiring energy that has been hiding in the genes of the organisation from the start.

Unforgettable moments loom in a warm, nostalgic mood. People eating pastry rolls off the walls. A sex worker in a mobile home nearly no one dares enter. A Moroccan kickboxing match in the pub at the Paraplufabriek. Two girls swinging pallidly through the hall dispensed from hooks in the skin of their backs. An uncomfortable councillor falteringly unveiling a golden bicycle rack in the city centre. A duo of clowns from Zeeuws-Vlaanderen making balloon animals in a wry party setting. Someone trying to keep part of the party 'party free'. 'No party here' is his motto. Enormous hallucinatory murals fill the exhibition space. Yet there is also an empty hall which on first glance displays nothing and does not allow to be talked about. This really is nothing. But that is a part of it too.

Thoughts lead back to the opening event with just a little too much absinthe. And to the Kunstvlaai in the Westergasfabriek. To the highschool bands that deployed pubescent vigour to blow away the national 'art avant-garde' with their violent drums and guitars. To the installation of 1500 cardboard boxes that was dismantled due to fire safety. Simply hadn't thought about that. Apologies, artist.

The ice drawings on the floor of the Triavium crowded with thousands of ice skaters. A quite bizarre performance that exposes all the most cliché of clichés in performance through naked nudity and soggy jelly. Immediately followed by a completely inappropriate: “The best we’ve ever had...” A deep-internet image generator that turns all the weird stuff you could never dream up into a revolting image raffle. And lest we forget, the graphic designers and their beautiful publications surrounding all the annual programmes. This in itself is a true feast for the eyes! The interplay between photography, typography, binding methodology and high-quality printing was championed by a variety of graphic designers, driven by the breathtaking and photogenic exhibitions. Time and time again this played out exceptionally and resulted in stunning publications.

And now, in 2021, the fog has lifted and we look at all the impossibilities that we turned into possibilities, with the help of all those employees, volunteers, artists, think tanks and curators. On the board we call it 'Heritage', with a big smile on our faces.

The third stage ignites. It is called POST. Museum Het Valkhof can finally be modernised with a substantial injection, a new museum is in construction in Arnhem. New initiatives have been born and some have already disappeared. More and more, the two cities are sticking together. It will soon be called 025. The government is already behind this slow amalgamation. Now it is up to the people to embrace it.

POST is Kunstenaarsinitiatief Paraplufabriek/Expoplu in a new guise, moving in a different landscape. A stage with legs in two cities. With a program in thoughtful response to global issues, seen and imagined through the eyelashes of the artists and thinkers, and cleverly made available to a wide audience. POST shoots into space, towards a future in which it explores the unknown.

Text by: Jan Wieger van den Berg, Bas Mühren, Gerard Koek, Niek Audenaerd, March 2021