Jeroen Jongeleen Rotterdam – Brussel


“Jeroen Jongeleen builds on his recent work ‘100km,’ increasing the distance by 40km as he runs from his studio in Rotterdam to his exhibition in Brussels to give an artist talk on Saturday, June 28th at 17:30. (expected time)”

Kortom 3,5 maraton rennen en dan artist talk.

Vanochtend vroeg vertrokken.

Volg Jongeleen op


Korte stop, Haringvliet. Still smooth forward


Heinenoord and still there


Nu mand wakker in Numansdorp


And a goodmirning to you from Hel(wijk)


Roosendaal, beautiful!


A little little slower as planned, maar het begint ergens op te lijken


Back on track and blessed by the gods of minimal art with some sunbeams breaking through


Still alive (on kawara)




Border at 59km = 177000 steps. This way Brouwn


Nog zo’n gek (@74km)

Volg Jongeleen op

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  1. Harlan Levy over het wachten in Brussel en de aankomst: “Around 23:00 on Friday night, Jeroen called to say that Team Jongeleen was on the move. Around 15:00 on Saturday, he wrote that his arrival would be later than planned. Just after that Louise told me that she had a certain confidence throughout the day. ‘I woke up and I knew he was running. I thought about him at noon and he was running. At 3, he was running. Even now, he’s running.’

    As it turned out, 24 hours later he was still running. The rest of us were waiting. Waiting is never pleasant. Sometimes it’s difficult. Things happen while you wait though. There are always interruptions. It started with the rain. Would it be refreshing for Jeroen? Would it wear him down as his shoes, socks, shirts and skin absorbed the water?

    As talk of Team Jongeleen filled the room, the rain crept in. The sewer blocked, the road flooded, and the pipes in the basement burst. Suddenly we were scrambling to stop the water from spreading and futilely using buckets to reduce the water on the street. By this time, Brazil had snuck through to the quarterfinals and his facebook updates let us know that Jeroen was getting closer.

    More waiting. Not everybody could do it. The crowd changed and changed again, but as people came and went they left their energy behind. By 23:00 on Saturday night, the gallery was festive.

    People were starting to wonder if he would make it; if he were actually running, if this weren’t some sort of perverted conceptual joke… and that’s when Team Jongeleen started to arrive.

    Jeroen had 3 people with him. They took turns cycling and driving to support him. Paco was the first to enter the gallery. He sat down trying to recalibrate and gather his bearings. After a few minutes in the chair, he told me that he had slept the last hour in the team van as they all approached Brussels. I thought he was going to pass out. He asked about Jeroen and realizing that he hadn’t arrived, jumped up as if he were about to save a baby from a fire, hopped on his bike and rode back out into the night to find him. Fortunately, he did. Otherwise, Paco might have been riding around Brussels until he did pass out.

    Just before midnight, Paco and Jeroen, were seen coming around the corner.

    The crowd stood and started to clap, whistle and scream. Jeroen ran until he was only a meter away and still had the composure to add some Sinatra and take a stylish bow. It was a performance, after all.

    We grabbed him a chair and stuck a bowl of hot bath of Epsom salts by his feet. Somebody gave him a bottle of water. Somebody else put down a bottle of cola. Before touching either of those, he had a beer to his lips. ‘I drank one of these before leaving, and it probably wasn’t the best idea, but now it’s just perfect.’

    Then he spoke to a crowd that was amazed by him for about 20 or 30 minutes, right up until even his smile and sincere reflections couldn’t conceal the suffering he was sucking up for the sake of conversation. His generosity was immense even after his journey. When he began to shake a little bit, everybody knew it was time to get him inside and put some hot food in his belly.

    In due course, documentation of this epic day will emerge and there will be plenty of time to process, but as I head back into town to welcome guests to Jeroen’s exhibition, I didn’t want to wait to say just how incredible he his and how deeply this performance touched me.

    Massive heart. Massive balls. Massive mind. Massive audience. Massive friends. Massive performance. Massive commitment.

    Massive thanks to everybody who, came to the gallery to be there for his arrival, put their support on his chest and into his mind, called, mailed or sent messages to check in on him or cheer him on … and of course to Jeroen Jongeleen for the poetry and inspiration.”

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