a turn in its line / tomorrow is my turn
September 28 - November 15, 2025
CEASUUR
Lange Noordstraat 67 | Middelburg

Micha Patiniott brings together paintings and a video in which expression does not simply move outward. It turns, folds, gets caught, and comes back as image. A hand reaches. A figure is seen from behind. A face or body appears near the surface, then withdraws again. The works return to a simple but unstable question: what kind of contact is possible when inner life can only appear as surface?
In the paintings, figuration becomes intimate without becoming fully available. Bodies are partial, turned away, doubled, or held at a distance. Paper, skin, screen and paint function as membranes: places where something appears, where it is held back, and where it is changed. The surface is not only a limit. It is where inner life becomes visible, reflected, emptied out, or charged with an erotic and spiritual tension.

In the video, Nina Simone’s voice moves through a loop, while a text folds into repetition and tautology, with echoes of Gertrude Stein’s continuous present. Across the exhibition, looking, touching and speaking become recursive. An opening does not lead inward once and for all. It opens onto another surface.


A self-published artist’s book (A5, 86 pages, edition of 25) accompanies the exhibition.

The paintings are placed across three walls, with the video suspended between them. The installation moves from bodies seen in fragments, to openings and dark centres, to works in which the image seems to press back through the surface.

The space itself becomes part of this movement. Its worn walls, exposed brick and traces of earlier use give the works a setting that is already layered. The paintings do not sit in a neutral room. They meet a surface that also carries time, touch and repair.

On the left wall, the body appears indirectly: a figure from behind, a hand, a fold that can read as an opening, a wound or a soft doubling. The works feel close to the body, but they keep their distance. Something is offered, then held back.

In the middle, the focus shifts toward openings: black ovals, hollows, apertures. They can suggest a navel, an eye, an orifice or a portal, but they do not settle into one reading. Their scale keeps slipping between the bodily and the cosmic.

On the right, the image pushes back toward the viewer. A face appears through the paper-like surface. A hand seems to press outward. Against the brick arch, the works become almost theatrical, as if the wall itself has become another opening.

The video The Whole Story hangs between the walls. Nina Simone’s voice moves through the space, while a text loops and folds back on itself. The sound gives the installation another kind of surface: temporal, repeated, unstable.