May I take a picture of you? The work of photographer Jacques Sonck starts from that simple question. His solo exhibition 'Portraits 1977-2019' in Brussels shows a cross-section of the extraordinary personalities of our small country.

Strange that there is not yet a verb for 'looking at people walking by from a bench'. Soncken would fit. Ghent-born photographer Jacques Sonck has been a fanatical observer for nearly fifty years of anyone who crosses his gaze in the street scene, especially around Ghent, Antwerp, Brussels or the Belgian coast.

Anyone who catches his eye for any reason - a gap between teeth, a special piece of clothing, an accessory - he asks to take a seat in front of his analog lens on the spot. The superficial encounters last no more than 15 minutes, but result in revealing black-and-white portraits. Foundation A in Brussels is exhibiting a selection of 120 portraits Sonck made between 1977 and 2019.

'I always follow my gut feeling,' says Sonck, as we stroll through the three rooms of his photographs as if we were 'sonckend' into a random street at . 'I look for something unusual that I think might make an interesting image. Usually my feeling is right.'

It certainly produces interesting images. All the people portrayed stand in front of a nondescript background and look frontally into the lens, often gravely. So much for the similarities. The photographs show a mishmash of people who are each special in their own way, and at the same time quite ordinary. After all, what is normal? And does it even exist?

A bespectacled man with a pipe in his mouth stares mischievously into the lens. A woman in a bathing suit poses proudly, while a man in the background tries to steal a piece of the show and a third thinks his own way. A businessman in impeccably tailored suit walks around in high heels. The photographs exude sincerity, giving them something heartfelt. Many of the intimate, tender images make one smile, without falling into mockery of the sometimes eccentric figures.

No smalltalk

A few bleary-eyed, and therefore just comical, photographs of twins in assorted outfits wink at the work of American photographer Diane Arbus (1923-1971). With the major difference being that Sonck does not want to express anything about the social position of his models. Nor are the anonymous portraits ever given a title.

'I don't care who these people are, what they do or how old they are. It's all about the photo,' he says. You won't catch the introverted man having smalltalk or profound chats with his models. It is the paradox of my work. It is not in my nature to chat with strangers. But this form of photography forces me to. Which is good, otherwise I would tend to shut myself up too much.'

Most of the photographs exhibited in A Foundation were taken on the street. Beginning in the 1990s, Sonck also took portraits in his studio when he sees a detail he wants to photograph in close-up. That the expo opens with a large wall of his studio photographs is somewhat unfortunate in terms of the sequence in the scenography. While the images are certainly equally successful in quality, the street photographs better express the spontaneity of the diverse street scene. A reverse construction of the track therefore seems more logical.

Regardless of the dichotomy between street and studio photographs, the images do not hang in chronological order. With an eye for detail, however, you can recognize the zeitgeist through garments, hairstyles or subcultures. 'The expo is about being yourself and being able to be different from others,' says Sonck. 'In the most recent pictures you see more members of the lgbtq+ community, which was not the case in the 1970s. That diversity makes the work more interesting. It sneaks in spontaneously. I never focus on certain subgroups and don't work in thematic series.

In this way, the timeless-looking portraits also tell something about the social context. 'In that documentary element lies for me the strength of photography,' says Sonck. 'A painter can put anything on the canvas, but as a photographer you inevitably always make a link with reality. My very first street portrait dates from 1975: a photo of a child on a bicycle with an Eddy Merckx sticker on it. That detail immediately tells a piece of history. Although I hope my photographs have artistic value in addition to their documentary character.

'Jacques Sonck, Portraits 1977-2019' runs through March 31 at A Foundation. fondationastichting.com

Our colorful streets through the lens of a black-and-white photographer May I take a picture of you? From that simple question stems the work of photographer Jacques Sonck. His solo exhibition "Portraits 1977-2019" in Brussels shows a cross-section of the extraordinary personalities that make up our little country.