WET KUNST ​​

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(wet: law [NL], kunst: art [NL] — but in English, a glorious slippage.

 

At its core, WET KUNST is a provocation. A linguistic collision. A dirty pun. A defiant howl against propriety disguised as an exhibition. It plays on the duality of Dutch legality (wet) and creative practice (kunst), but its true meaning drips with subversion: the wet cunt—visceral, sexual, uncontrollable, and defiantly alive.

 

This exhibition at SHAME Gallery is not polite. It’s not interested in being safe, digestible, or clean. WET KUNST is a manifesto of ecstatic disobedience, an unapologetic dive into the perverse, the grotesque, the erotic, and the radically personal. Here, artists operate by their own laws—no moralistic gatekeeping, no institutional chokehold. Just desire, rage, and vision.

 

This is queer not as identity politics, but as rupture. Queer as a political snarl. Queer as punk. Not a rainbow-washed performance of acceptance, but a middle finger to assimilation. A scream in the face of heteronormative mediocrity. In WET KUNST, queerness is not just allowed—it’s weaponised.

 

Each artist in the show follows their own internal directive, their own messy, sacred, fucked-up compass. Together, they make up a chorus of deviants, freaks, visionaries, and sexual outlaws. Why conform when you can drip, moan, rupture, and scream?

 

This is not about inclusion.

This is about invasion.

CHLOE NICOSIA - HADRIEN MARTEAUX - HANNAH KIRCHER - KOMI AGAYI - MELANIE PAYEN - NATHAN FRENCH - SALOME MARTIN - SOPHIE COCHET - STANISLAS LEROUX- TATIANA GORGIEVSKI - THIERRY FALISSE - W LOUIS ROSA - ZOË NKWUGE 

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