Municipal cultural policy and experimental comics might seem like unlikely companions, but both occupy the working week of Brussels-based cultural organiser Rik Sturtewagen. As cultural policy coordinator in Anderlecht, he deals with public institutions, funding structures and the cultural needs of a borough of 130,000 inhabitants. Alongside that, he runs VROOM, an independent space for experimental comics and drawing, which grew out of an initiative at Muntpunt. One operates within the machinery of local government, the other largely outside it. Together, they give him a view of Brussels' cultural life from both inside and outside its institutions.

Before your current position in Anderlecht commune, you worked at the library Muntpunt in Brussels city centre. Tell me about that.

When I first arrived in Brussels, having lived in Ghent before, I worked as a musician and also organised music festivals around Brussels. I started at Muntpunt as a programme maker, and my initial focus was on connecting Brussels with Flanders, and on exploring Brussels more broadly.

During my first year, or perhaps the first year and a half, the Comics Art Museum approached us. They were organising an exhibition about Flemish comic artists and wanted to know whether Muntpunt might be interested in collaborating. Nobody else in my team was particularly up for it, but I was, because I like comics. I was also relatively new and didn't have too much on my plate yet, so I thought it was a good opportunity and threw myself into the project.

I travelled around Flanders to meet people involved in comics and quickly realised that something was changing. This was no longer comics as I had known them. Graphic novels had become quite popular in a relatively short time, and many artists studying comics or illustration were also moving into contemporary art.

The field had become much more fragmented. The commercial comics I had grown up with – Spirou, Tintin and so on – were still there, but alongside them a whole other field was emerging: comics for adults, experimental comics, artist books and publications that were also connected to the world of zines. I found this new scene exciting and decided it was something we should try to bring to Muntpunt.

How did that change materialise in terms of format and content?

I think the change came about because illustrators and people working in the visual arts became curious about the language of comics. They started exploring its conventions and sometimes quite stereotypical visual vocabulary, including those associated with comics from the 1970s.

The zine and fanzine scene were another important development. In Brussels, there was Zine Fest, for example: large fairs at Recyclart where all kinds of makers came together. Tattoo artists, people working with gender and activist issues, anarchists and comic makers were all producing and selling independent publications.

At the same time, there was a renewed interest in the physical book, almost as an antidote to the digital world. The book itself was becoming more of an object. I could feel that a whole movement was developing around this, and it was happening in Brussels.

How did you translate that interest into a programme at Muntpunt?

I started an activity called Zine Club. We organised sessions regularly, around 16 times a year. Each time, we invited a different artist to host a workshop about making zines. The artist could be an illustrator, but also a conceptual artist or a poet. In the beginning, we mainly invited people working with comics and illustration, but after a couple of seasons we decided to broaden the programme.

It was a very accessible format. The workshops lasted two hours, during which participants made a zine. If the result wasn't successful, it didn't matter. The following week there would be something else. It was an easy way to get to know an artist and understand how they worked. I think the format worked very well at Muntpunt because it allowed me to bring together different groups and experiment with all kinds of things in a relatively light and open setting.

I organised it together with Gabri, a friend from Barcelona who was working at Instituto Cervantes at the time. In total, I think we organised somewhere between 80 and 100 Zine Club sessions. It was also a very good way to bring together people from the Flemish-speaking and French-speaking communities, as well as international participants, because we held the workshops in English.

From these initiatives at Muntpunt, you took on an independent initiative.

I felt that, even though there was a real need for this kind of activity, the audience remained relatively niche. Muntpunt has a very broad mission, so I couldn't spend all my time organising activities for this particular group. It seemed strange that there wasn't a space dedicated to avant-garde comics and to the places where comics intersect with other art forms, where artists could experiment with different exhibition formats. Brussels is an important meeting point for artists, particularly between the north and south of Europe. This is especially true for comics, given Belgium's long history with the medium.

In a good comic, the book itself is the artwork, and the reading experience is perhaps the most important part. But there are also many comic artists who want to experiment outside the book format. They want to organise workshops and performances, work with music and create collective reading experiences. Gabri and I thought we should try to make that happen.

There was an opportunity to use a beautiful space in the Kuregem area of Anderlecht. I had often passed it on my bicycle when going to music rehearsals in the centre of Anderlecht. It had a large green gate and a very distinctive appearance. We were able to use the space for a while, and that's how the project started. In many ways, it grew directly out of Zine Club, Muntpunt and the network we had built there.

The space is called VROOM. What happens there?

We've brought together quite a lot of different networks, and I think we've become a space where Dutch-speaking and French-speaking artists meet. It's important to us to maintain that balance and to remain a meeting place where people can discover artists they might not otherwise encounter and exchange knowledge around avant-garde comics.

Our programme has several different components. One is a clear focus on Brussels-based artists. Alongside that, we have an international programme. Because the field is quite niche, you quickly get to know the networks in France, the Netherlands and Germany. The idea is to make the space a place of exchange, where different scenes can meet and where Brussels can function as a point of intersection.

How often do you organise exhibitions and other events?

Normally, we have four or five exhibitions per year. In addition, we organise smaller events, most of which are book launches. Quite often, these are accompanied by a small exhibition or other related activities.

There's a small room within the larger space that used to be the carpenter's office. We've transformed it into a community library. The library collection consists of all the books that have been presented at VROOM. Whenever we organise a book launch, we ask for a copy. We also put out an open call to the community around us, inviting people to send us books if they would like them to be included in the library. We now have around 100 to 120 books. Some are very unusual publications that you wouldn't find in a public library.

We've been around for almost five years now. Next April will mark our fifth anniversary.

For the past year and a half, you also have a full-time job in the borough of Anderlecht. What does your position in the borough involve? The two activities seem connected, geographically and culturally, but how do they work together in practice?

I'm a cultural policy coordinator – cultuurbeleidcoördinator – and I'm also head of the Culture and Youth Service, the Cultuur en Jeugddienst. My job takes up four days a week, so I have a fifth day that I can use for everything related to VROOM. That arrangement gives me a certain amount of flexibility.

As cultural policy coordinator, I'm responsible for coordinating the Flemish cultural networks within the borough. They develop a policy plan for a five-year period, which they write together with the community centre, the library and the other organisations in the network.

One part of my work is therefore following up on cultural policy and acting as a liaison between the organisations and the elected politician responsible for Dutch-speaking matters in the borough. I'm the link between the politician and the people working in the cultural services.

Anderlecht is a fairly large borough, isn't it? What does its cultural landscape look like?

Anderlecht has around 130,000 inhabitants, which is more than Leuven. A significant number of its institutions are connected to the Flemish community. We have around 23 Flemish-speaking primary schools, for instance, and quite a lot of cultural institutions.

There's GC De RInck, Zinnema and Werkplaats Walter, among others. There are also many artists' studios and workshops because space is relatively cheap here. Anderlecht is well connected too, and it's close to Brussels-Midi station. So, there's a very rich cultural life in the borough.

At the same time, there's quite a big gap between what the inhabitants need and what some of these cultural organisations offer. Anderlecht isn't one of the wealthiest borough. It's relatively poor, and many inhabitants haven't pursued higher education. There are also people who don't speak either Dutch or French, and there are a number of social issues that need to be addressed, like serious drug-related problems and crime in certain parts of Anderlecht.

I think the challenge is how to create a cultural ecosystem that accommodates both very specialised artists and high-quality artistic production, while remaining relevant to the people who actually live in the borough.

The borough has a very particular character. You have industrial heritage, African churches, mosques, car workshops and all kinds of other places. It's a varied and sometimes quite wild environment. There are also parts of Anderlecht that feel like the countryside. Around Neerpede, for instance, you find some of the nicest natural areas in the Brussels region. So, my job involves dealing with a very broad range of issues and communities.

Do your two professional roles influence each other in any way?

I think they're very complementary.

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Rik is one of the 73 locals who has generously contributed to our city guide 'Brussels by locals' by sharing his favourite spots in town.


Interview: Sisse Bro
Photography: Stephanie De Smet
VROOM, Dokter De Meersmanstraat 19, 1070 Anderlecht, Brussels