If you want to read more about my artistic statement, artseries, opinions, paintings, photography and movies, please go to www.filipvanroy.com
“Taste is nothing more than a web of unprocessed impulses, I paint because I want to paint, period, and I sell only to find the means to make my next painting”
Froy, pseudonym for Filip Van Roy, born 1970 in Antwerp (Belgium).
After finishing highschool, he went on to study Communications management with high achievements. Later in life he travelled through France and Spain, where he worked as a columnist and enjoyed the local culture. After returning to his hometown he evolved as a self-taught man in the field of prosy and poetry to the field of sculpting and painting. Never completely able to let go of the written word he strives to combine his poetry in his paintings: every work of the hand of Froy is an expedition, every painting, story or poem, a search without ending or boundaries. Restless as he is he went on to specialize in the field of digital video art. The message seems clear: Giving free rein to his creativity he searches restlessly for new ideas or improves on his old Works in other forms.For the moment he is living in Gozo, Malta.
Does a self made man become a dilettante in the world of art? Maybe so, but then in the margin as for example ‘Le Douanier’ by Henri Rousseau, but being a dilettante…. in modern art, is that possible? Modern art is in many cases absurd, manic, exaggerated, pretentious, and sometimes indeed such a varnishing as conservative types often think. It is exactly this way of thinking that makes the risk worthwhile: he is simply a dilettante in his way of life. “Taste is nothing more than a web of unprocessed impulses”, says the artist with passion, “I paint because I want to paint, period, and I sell only to find the means to make my next painting”. His work is pure; a study of life on the edge, of the interaction of the individual with the others in a western city, of the communication (or the lack of it) between now a days people.
The mood is often astonishing; the human is sometimes pictured as an animal, and then as robot, estranged from reality. What meets the eye immediately are the compositions and symbolism of color, whether if he paints with acryl or oil paint. Because the art critics keep fencing with ‘isms’ since the birth of ‘realism’ in 1850; I would dare to call his work with a witticism ‘gagaïsme’, or as the artist puts it himself: “an intuitive form of enlightened soft neurotic punk”! (R. TEN)