Hélène Cane

Discovered alongside a dock at the Eilandje, Antwerp’s now en vogue harbour district, this weathered panel feels strangely peaceful against the constant movement surrounding it.

A swan glides through faded turquoise water beneath a pale sun, surrounded by reeds, clouds, and fragments of a landscape slowly dissolving into the surface itself.

Almost naïve. Almost dreamlike, the image sits somewhere between public signage, forgotten decoration, and accidental poetry. Moisture, rust, scratches, and time softened the original illustration until parts of it nearly disappeared completely. Which only improved it.

Turquoise greens, oxidised blues, faded whites, and washed-out yellows merge into a palette that feels both aquatic and industrial at once. Around it: bicycles, apartment blocks, traffic, markets, construction, passing conversations. Antwerp continuing exactly as Antwerp does.

And then suddenly, a swan. The contrast gives the image its charm. Fragile nature trapped inside an urban object already halfway eroded by the city itself. Decorative serenity surviving surprisingly well beside concrete, steel, and bad weather.

On textile, the faded textures and softened colours created remarkable depth. The washed surfaces almost behaved like old pigments absorbed directly into the fabric.

A romantic landscape quietly surviving in one of the least romantic places imaginable.