Le plat pays qui est un peu le mien is a long-term documentary project made during the years I lived in Belgium. The title borrows from Jacques Brel’s love letter to his flat country — but adds the qualifier “a little bit mine,” because belonging was always partial, always negotiated.
The work portrays the people and landscapes of a country I came to know intimately without ever fully becoming part of. Butchers and bus riders, pub regulars and market vendors, children on concrete ledges and workers in reflective vests — each photograph is a small encounter, a moment of mutual recognition between a foreigner with a camera and the person in front of it.
Belgium revealed itself to me in contrasts: the warmth of its interiors against the grey of its skies, the formality of its institutions against the informality of its street life, the quiet of its flat countryside against the density of its cities. I was drawn to the spaces where these tensions were visible — friteries at the edge of villages, canal towpaths near cooling towers, ornamental grasses catching the last light on a suburban terrace.
The project is shot in both color and black-and-white, mixing 35mm and medium format. The shift between the two is intuitive rather than systematic — some encounters demanded the directness of black-and-white, while others needed the warmth and specificity that only color can hold.
What remains is a portrait of a place that shaped me profoundly, made by someone who was always, in some sense, just passing through.
Artist Statement
Belgium taught me that belonging does not require permanence. Over the years I spent there, I photographed the people and places that made the country partly mine -- always partly, never fully. This incompleteness became the subject itself.