Naar aanleiding van de recente richtlijnen met betrekking tot het coronavirus stopt Lost & Found haar activiteiten tot nader bericht. In de tussentijd heten wij u welkom in het Lost & Found archief.

Sinds 1997 heeft Lost & Found meer dan 200 avonden voor verdwaalde beelden en geluiden samengesteld. Kunstenaars, schrijvers, wetenschappers en muzikanten laten werk in ontwikkeling zien, experimenteren of tonen werk dat (nog) niet in hun oeuvre past. Een specifiek en uniek podium voor divers en hybride werk dat in een museaal circuit geen plaats heeft.

Laurence Henriquez


  1. Something that has to be seen to be understood, if that is actually possible

    ‘Helloooo, Mr. Henriquez?’ 
    ‘Yes, speaking.’
    ‘Please hold the line, we will put you through immediately.’
    ‘Wait… who is this?’
    ‘I’m sorry Mr. Herniquez, but I am not allowed answer that question, you will have to hold the line for…’
    ‘But wait I—’

    Of course… a prank call from Juliaan Andeweg, my old green-haired friend whose penchant for Versace sunglasses and the occult is only topped by his borderline unhealthy infatuation with The Ramones, Archie comics and Lil B. In the machine gun paced conversation that followed I was informed in about 45 seconds that (A) Andeweg was co-curating an event called Lost & Found taking place in 48 hours at the Waag in Amsterdam; (B) that the press release I wrote for his previous gallery event was well received and that I was invited to be the official stenographer for the evening; (C) there will be food, friends, illusionists and music. Walking down the hallway just outside my scholastic tomb, my eyes darted left and right in hesitation as I was unsure if this last minute assignment could fit into my nonscheduled life, but knowing my preference for procrastination and combining work and play, it was an offer I could not refuse. 

    Written for L&F Theatrum Anatomicum (06–02–2015)