Michel Houellebecq Splits an Amsterdam Artists’ Collective

Erick Overveen — 7 June 2023

The famous French author Michel Houellebecq was in Amsterdam for the premiere of a documentary about his legal battle with the Dutch artists’ collective Keeping It Real Art Critics, KIRAC. It made for a bizarre, decadent day, complete with pole dancers and a KIRAC artist dressed as a cockroach who tried unsuccessfully to get in. Erick Overveen was among the very few journalists present.

Houellebecq recently suffered a second legal defeat in a case he brought against KIRAC over a sexually charged film in which he plays the leading role. The controversial author calls the film “defamatory”, but cannot prevent its publication and must now even pay damages to KIRAC founder Stefan Ruitenbeek.

The trailer for that film, KIRAC 27 Houellebecq—the film itself has not yet appeared, pending an appeal—caused a worldwide stir because the 67-year-old Houellebecq has sex with a young woman. From Paris to Tokyo, the media mercilessly dismissed both KIRAC and Houellebecq for making vulgar pornography. In solidarity with the writer, one of KIRAC’s members, artist Tarik Sadouma, decided to leave the group and make his own film with the French provocateur through his own movement, The Unsafe House of Jaafar El Hazred. De Andere Krant was invited to the premiere in Amsterdam.

Afternoon

Because Extinction Rebellion has occupied the A12 this afternoon, photographer Markus Kamphuis and I have to take an alternative route from Breda to Amsterdam. As a result, we arrive far too late. In the shadow of a dilapidated commercial complex on an industrial estate, we are welcomed by Tarik Sadouma (1979), a striking personality with unruly hair and a wild appearance. “Welcome. Houellebecq is not here yet, but come in.”

Sadouma has fallen out with KIRAC founder Stefan Ruitenbeek because he disagrees with the way Houellebecq is being treated. “I saw how he struggled to stop the erotic footage of himself, while Ruitenbeek went ahead with the film anyway. Besides, we had been disagreeing artistically for much longer. That is why I withdrew from KIRAC.”

Together with fellow artists Ruth, aka Dr. Spetter, and Maria van der Velde, Sadouma now leads his own artistic movement, The Unsafe House of Jaafar El Hazred. He describes it as a mixture of an artists’ group and a progressive, feminist, Islamic harem—in a cultural rather than ideological sense—in which “sex work” is a theme. In response to KIRAC’s film about Houellebecq, Tarik has now produced a film together with him, which will premiere at tonight’s party. Sadouma: “The film is called Albatros, after a piece by one of Houellebecq’s literary heroes, the American horror and science-fiction writer H. P. Lovecraft. Jaafar El Hazred happens, or perhaps not so coincidentally, to be a character in a Lovecraft book.”

The uproar surrounding Houellebecq’s court cases with KIRAC has given Tarik “an unbelievably intense friendship with Houellebecq”. “Symbiosis produces great art,” he explains. “Just look!” Proudly, he shows us a portrait of Houellebecq so lifelike that the boundaries between fiction and reality seem to blur. “We expect this painting to fetch two hundred thousand euros in Dubai soon,” he adds.

Together with the Unsafe House crew, including Sadouma’s former mentor Frans Oosterhof from the Rietveld Academie, Markus and I wait for Houellebecq to arrive. Oosterhof criticises Ruitenbeek for bringing nothing new. “KIRAC only shocks for the sake of shocking.”

Meanwhile, in the background, a young man is editing Sadouma’s film for tonight’s screening. “A crucial theme in our film is the dynamic between Houellebecq, who is often accused of Islamophobia—completely unjustly—and our Islamic art collective,” Sadouma explains. “But really we are creating a myth in which fiction and reality intermingle. Houellebecq dies in our film too. He really wanted that himself.”

“Actually, tonight’s party is also a film set whose footage we will use,” adds Maria van der Velde, painting herself red and putting on a theatrical devil costume for the premiere. “That way, our film expands organically.”

Then literary critic Sarah Desplenter of the Belgian magazine HUMO enters. Sadouma has asked her to interview Houellebecq tonight. She has also brought his latest publication, Quelques mois dans ma vie, A Few Months in My Life, a short work about the KIRAC court case that has attracted considerable attention in France and elsewhere in the world.

Desplenter explains that the book reads like a farce full of improbable situations, intrigue and deception. Houellebecq argues in it that KIRAC founder Stefan Ruitenbeek, whom he calls “The Cockroach”, ambushed him with the promise of carefree sex with philosophy student and OnlyFans porn star Jini van Rooijen. Houellebecq, who contemptuously calls her “The Sow”, depicts himself in the book as “merchandise” ruthlessly exploited by that “Cockroach” and “Sow”, because he was drawn into a game whose rules he did not understand. “Houellebecq was not himself when he decided late last year to participate in the film,” Desplenter emphasises. “Through a cocktail of antidepressants, alcohol and an inadequate understanding of English, he signed a contract he now regrets.”

Then Sadouma tells us that Houellebecq and his wife Qianyun Lysis Li have arrived. But the writer first wants a nap to recover from his train journey.

An hour later, Sadouma returns and says he has disappointing news for Markus and me: Houellebecq would rather not talk to De Andere Krant after all, because he has read online that we are supposedly pro-Russian. Kamphuis responds sharply: “We are not pro-Russian; we are for peace.” “Sorry, gentlemen,” Sadouma says, “Houellebecq is a little sceptical.” His lawyer has also advised him to avoid journalists in general. Partly because KIRAC is trying to frame the event as a book presentation to gain an advantage in future proceedings.

Markus and I take a moment to discuss the situation, but decide to stay. By the time we return to the studio, Houellebecq, accompanied by his wife, the Unsafe House artists and Gwen van der Zwan, a journalist from HP/De Tijd, is about to tuck into pasta. Sadouma again asks Houellebecq whether he would be willing to talk to me. “No,” he answers coldly.

“Sorry, I really did my best for you,” Sadouma says, placing disposable containers filled with pasta and coffee mugs filled with champagne on the table for us. “Oh well, never mind. Just join us for a nice meal.”

According to Sadouma, Houellebecq has developed an enormous aversion to the press because they deliberately misquote him week after week to cast him in a bad light. His lawyer also advised him against speaking to journalists this morning. As we all eat pasta, Van der Zwan asks why Houellebecq has agreed to a Q&A with such a small group of artists. “Tarik is a friend of mine,” he says. “I do anything for friends.”

Playfully, Maria asks Houellebecq whether she may kiss him. “Where?” Houellebecq asks. “On your cheek,” she replies, laughing. The 67-year-old writer visibly enjoys all the female attention. Houellebecq is known as a critic of Western postmodern nihilism, as in his novel Atomised (1998), and of the sexualisation of Western society, but there is little sign of that today.

When our eyes meet again after the meal, I decide to try once more to ask Houellebecq a question. Does he know what happened to the Dutch filmmaker and columnist Theo van Gogh in 2004? He nods. Hesitantly, I ask whether I may give him the English translation of my novel Delirium?!, about Van Gogh’s final days. He nods, accepts the book and immediately begins reading it attentively. Sadouma records our conversation on his iPhone 14 Pro.

Houellebecq lets his cigarette balance carelessly between his fingers and, as some ash falls to the floor, remarks that Van Gogh’s tragic end reminds him of Samuel Paty, the French civics teacher beheaded by a radical Muslim two and a half years ago after showing cartoons of Muhammad. “Both were punished for insulting the Prophet,” he says without taking his eyes off the book. He says our themes—concerning radical Islam—correspond, thanks me and promises to take the book to Paris. “Congratulations,” Sadouma chuckles. “What a moving moment, man. May I use it in our film?”

Evening

In the evening, the atmosphere at The Unsafe House evokes artist Andy Warhol’s legendary Factory. More than 250 Houellebecq fans have settled into plastic folding chairs and are watching The Unsafe House’s film attentively. Because I arrived late, I missed KIRAC’s Stefan Ruitenbeek and Jini van Rooijen—clearly unwelcome at the party—unexpectedly managing to get inside, bizarrely dressed as a cockroach and a sow respectively, referring to the nicknames Houellebecq gives them in his new book. According to witnesses, however, they left the site in a hurry after Ruth, aka Dr. Spetter, called the police. Later I call Ruitenbeek several times for a response, but he does not answer or respond to his voicemail.

The question-and-answer session with Houellebecq and Desplenter disappoints. Because of the author’s limited English and quiet voice, their conversation bogs down in inaudible soundbites rather than becoming a dialogue. Houellebecq then fades away as quickly as he appeared onstage.

Meanwhile, I mingle with the transvestites and other guests disappearing into a persistent veil of artificial fog. The Unsafe House’s party tent vibrates to soundtracks from films by the French director Gaspar Noé, whom Houellebecq admires. Mirwais’s Disco Science flows effortlessly into one of the greatest club classics ever, Lil’ Louis’s erotic French Kiss. The crowd erupts. Applause and shouting fill the room, and champagne corks pop everywhere. Ruth, aka Dr. Spetter, performs a pole dance and persuades the other girls to follow her example. Encouraged by the cheering in-crowd, even Van der Zwan gives it a try. Everything tingles with tension and eroticism: entirely in keeping with Houellebecq’s beloved formula.