Laurens De Nil creates hybrid human forms, figures that inhabit the uncertain space between body and imagination, between the recognizable and the strange. His work begins with the human form as a starting point, then gradually pulls it toward something else: a shape that breathes differently, that carries weight in unexpected places, that refuses to settle into a single reading.

These are not distortions. They are expansions. Each figure holds within it the memory of a body, its posture, its tension, its quiet vulnerabilities; while simultaneously reaching beyond it. Flesh becomes structure. Movement becomes sculpture. The familiar turns gently, persistently uncanny.

De Nil's hybrids occupy a space that is neither fully real nor fully imagined. They are creatures of the threshold: half human, half dream, suspended in a moment of becoming. There is something playful in them, and something unsettling. They invite you closer, then shift beneath your gaze.

At the heart of his practice lies a fundamental question: what does it mean to have a form? Not just a body, but a shape in the world, a way of being seen, of taking up space, of existing in relation to others. His figures probe this question without answering it. They stand as mirrors, but distorted ones, reflecting back a version of ourselves that is slightly off, slightly other, and precisely because of that, deeply honest.