©2025 Quelish
LET THE SLIME KNOW. LET IT GROW
06.06-28.06.2025
Brasserie Atlas
Rue du Libre Examen 15 1070
Brussels, Belgium
THE SLIME KNOWS
Anna Alexanina
Anna Charlotte Frevel
Anna Kulik
Antonella Doblanovic
Aurélie Bayad
Carole Mousset
Chankalun
Daniele Zerbi
David Krenz
Duccio Franceschi
Elena Bajo
Carole Mousset
Chankalun
Daniele Zerbi
David Krenz
Duccio Franceschi
Anna Charlotte Frevel
Anna Kulik
Antonella Doblanovic
Aurélie Bayad
Carole Mousset
Chankalun
Daniele Zerbi
David Krenz
Duccio Franceschi
Elena Bajo
Carole Mousset
Chankalun
Daniele Zerbi
David Krenz
Duccio Franceschi
Elena Bajo
Emma Romeo
Enya Burger
Emanuele Resce
Erika Rustamova
Esther Babulik
Fardau Visser
Georgios Ouzounis
Gerben Oolbekkink
Isadora Nahon
Iona Liddle
Ivy Vo
Jeltje Schuurmans
Jiwon Song
Katya Quel
Keyannah Isaacs
Emma Romeo
Enya Burger
Emanuele Resce
Erika Rustamova
Esther Babulik
Fardau Visser
Georgios Ouzounis
Gerben Oolbekkink
Isadora Nahon
Iona Liddle
Ivy Vo
Jeltje Schuurmans
Jiwon Song
Katya Quel
Keyannah Isaacs
Lale Willan
Lara-Nina Weber
Lu Hauhia
Luz Mercedes
Luzie Deter
Lydia Belevich
Madlen Hirtentreu
Marta Luna Valpiana
Matilde Sartori
Miha Majes
Mikii Krae
nenúhîr
Nicolò Baldi
Paula Rydel
Pei Shan Lee
Rafael Soto Acebal
Lara-Nina Weber
Lu Hauhia
Luz Mercedes
Luzie Deter
Lydia Belevich
Madlen Hirtentreu
Marta Luna Valpiana
Matilde Sartori
Miha Majes
Mikii Krae
nenúhîr
Nicolò Baldi
Paula Rydel
Pei Shan Lee
Rafael Soto Acebal
Ringailė Demšytė
Rizal Nugraha
Robert Tilbury
Ros Itzel Howes
Sahoko Yoshino
Sally Craven
Sara Pasternacki
ShuShu Sieberns
Sophie de Serière
Valerio Gelsomini
Veronika Svecova
Vincent Königs
Volodymyr Serhachov
Wiktoria Cwityńska
Yannick Jadoul
Ying “32”
Zack Nguyen
Rizal Nugraha
Robert Tilbury
Ros Itzel Howes
Sahoko Yoshino
Sally Craven
Sara Pasternacki
ShuShu Sieberns
Sophie de Serière
Valerio Gelsomini
Veronika Svecova
Vincent Königs
Volodymyr Serhachov
Wiktoria Cwityńska
Yannick Jadoul
Ying “32”
Zack Nguyen
Slime moulds are slow-moving, curious organisms. They operate without a brain, without hierarchy, without command structures. And yet, they solve problems, make decisions, and learn from experience. A single cell of Physarum polycephalum can trace the fastest path through a maze. It doesn’t belong to any respectable kingdom—neither animal, plant, nor fungi. And yet, the slime mould knows something. It navigates, remembers, and solves. It pulses with intelligence, distributed like a whisper across its body. In one experiment, researchers placed bits of food across a surface in the shape of the Tokyo metro map. The slime connected them using the most efficient routes. In another study, it made its way through a maze, finding the shortest path to food. Scientists have even used it to help model the large-scale structure of the universe—how matter might be spread across space.
There’s something steady and smart in the way slime moulds move. They don’t rush. They explore. They respond to their environment. They stretch out, retreat, and try again. They sense, adjust, and grow where it makes sense to grow.
The Slime Knows began with this quiet kind of intelligence. When we put out an open call, we weren’t expecting such a wide response. But what arrived felt timely— artists from across disciplines responded with a shared curiosity, as if tapping into a slimy zeitgeist, listening to the world’s softer signals, and working with forms that change, meander, or connect across space and time.The proposals showed artists already attuned to a shifting cultural terrain—working with systems that ooze, connect, absorb, and metabolize.
This show explores how artworks might listen to one another rather than compete for attention. In the wide, industrial space of Brasserie Atlas, the works appear almost hesitant at first—timid, even. But they gather, they take their time. They don’t fill the space, they settle into it. They seep, lean, ripple, and rest. Some works hang like skins or membranes. Others glow softly, or spread across the ground like roots or stains. Each piece seems to listen to the others—forming a kind of slow conversation, a quiet ecosystem, like veins of slime mould reaching out and retreating.
Materials melt, harden, seep, get sticky. Plastics slump. Foams expand and freeze mid-breath. Slime is not just wet—it’s a method. A tempo. A mode of attention that doesn’t rely on hierarchy or control. Some works lean into the vegetal, the biological, the decomposing. Others grow from petroleum derivatives, lab leftovers, or synthetic skins. What they share is a willingness to be in contact—with environments, processes, and each other.
This is not about purity. It’s about noticing what’s already there: the soft borders between nature and fabrication, decay and design. Coexistence isn’t framed as utopia. It’s messy, physical, sometimes gross. Still, things hold together. Sometimes barely. Sometimes beautifully.
The artists in The Slime Knows aren’t offering solutions or slogans. They work with what sticks, spreads, stains. Their gestures are small, porous, and often collaborative. Not to illustrate ideas, but to test out ways of being that don’t place humans in the centre of every structure.
This exhibition is a site for slow reactions. Shapes that don’t settle. Edges that blur. A kind of metabolism, collective and incomplete.
Opening Night with Performances:
06.06.2025 19:00
06.06.2025 19:00
4 pieces, each 90 × 200 cm, oil on transparent support, 2025
Components: ceramic frame + video, ceramic egg, transparent box. 2024–2025
inkjet prints A3, rocks
The Origin - inkjet print A1, 2025
120 × 120 × 180 cm, wood, resin, slime, plaster, tiles. 2025
Digital print on eco-silk, epoxy resin, polyester fiberfill, PVC board, 2025
Components: ceramic frame + video, ceramic egg, transparent box. 2024–2025
Digital print on eco-silk, epoxy resin, polyester fiberfill, PVC board, 2025
Epoxy, print on fabrics, found memory; 60 × 40 cm, 2025
Latex, dried flowers, pearls, recycled fabric, 2025
Wood, textiles, PU foam, glass paint, silicon, acrylic varnish, wax, 2025