— A Day in the Life of the Holy Blood | 2015
Koen Theys

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF THE HOLY BLOOD stages its actors as a collective of naively costumed, archaic biblical figures. Whether by design or through inadvertence, this portrayal unmistakably verges on caricature, evoking the exaggerated visual rhetoric of popular religious parades, particularly the famed 'Processions of the Holy Blood' in Flanders. The ostensible simplicity of their attire and affectation introduces a subtle yet palpable irony, quietly undermining the gravitas traditionally ascribed to such ritualistic pageantry. In doing so, Theys deftly navigates the liminal space between reverence and subversion, allowing his work to oscillate between the sacred and the profane.

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The video production originates from a meticulously orchestrated performance at Etablissement d'en face, a Brussels art space. The sterile, white gallery is densely populated with amateur actors, their bodies ordered in successive rows that fill the space from wall to wall, ascending on a steep scaffold. This imposing structure reaches such a height that the actors in the uppermost rows are nearly pressed against the ceiling. To accentuate the theatricality of the scene, Theys applies exaggerated make-up to each performer, grotesquely amplifying their facial expressions, thereby heightening the sense of artifice.

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The actors—men, women, and children alike—embody a panoply of biblical characters, yet they remain unnervingly static, their gazes locked in quiet contemplation, entirely devoid of action. This stillness engenders an eerie detachment, transforming them from active participants into emblematic figures frozen in time. What initially suggests a procession is subtly reframed as an audience—a collection of passive onlookers who, despite their ceremonial garb, exist not to be observed, but to observe. Yet, their collective presence remains too uncanny, too singular, to be reduced to the status of mere spectators.

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Theys cultivates a tragicomic tension through his meticulous close-ups, capturing fleeting moments of vulnerability amid the actors' near-immobility: a character scratches their nose, bites their lip, or nervously clutches a prop—an understated oscillation between bravery and boredom. Over time, these expressions betray a deeper despair, as if the actors gradually comprehend the futility of their vigil—their grand expectations, however devout, will remain unfulfilled. They are ensnared in a spectacle that withholds the promise of catharsis.

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Ultimately, Theys positions the viewer as the external observer of an 'introspective' procession—a halted parade, teetering on the brink of collapse through its own inertia. Paradoxically, by immobilizing the spectacle, Theys implicates the audience in a meditation on non-spectacle. We, the viewers, are rendered witnesses to a spectacle that, in its very stillness, refuses to unfold, thereby destabilizing the very concept of spectacle itself.