Yves Velter (b.1967, Ostend) is a Belgian visual artist whose work is driven by a fascination with the human condition—particularly its contemplative and psychological dimensions. He explores the parts of ourselves we know intimately yet cannot fully grasp. His practice is an ongoing investigation of others, the self, and the space in between.

In the exhibition Reversing the Talk, Velter opens a dialogue between earlier and recent works. His visual language is instantly recognisable, having evolved into an alphabet of around thirty symbols. One recurring element is fragments of text from letters written by his autistic aunt—illegible and incomprehensible to anyone but herself, forming a private language of her own.

New to this visual alphabet are fluorescent lines in neon colours. These luminous paths are not mere visual experiments; they act as the inverse of shadows—projections of the many versions of a single person. We are always a variation of ourselves, depending on who perceives us. An invisible self moves between image and viewer, constantly shifting form. The neon lines become metaphors for the fragmentation of identity, endlessly reflected in the eyes of others—a mosaic of selves, both familiar and elusive.

The exhibition unfolds like a labyrinth where symbolism and sensory experience merge: hairs that turn into needles, mirrors that evoke self-recognition, shadow lines that make the fleeting tangible. The figures in Velter’s work appear familiar, yet remain unplaceable. They are given little context or background. Their gaze is encoded—their eyes or entire faces contain materials with symbolic meaning.

Velter’s oeuvre is about questions that resist answers, fears that mask desires, speech that fails to communicate, and the expressive power of the unreadable. A defining trait throughout his work is a sense of unease. This is not a cheerful body of work, nor a spectacle, but one that quietly inserts discomfort into the viewer’s mind—by revealing what we all feel, yet prefer not to know.