The authors.

  1. Thierry Bosquet

    “ I drew on my love of flamboyant art, Gothic art, and my love of all the cathedrals of France with which my parents furnished my childhood. I illustrated the tale as Stephen requested. Each illustration fulfilled a very specific request, a kind of challenge I had to meet.

    He asked me to work with many bird’s-eye views, which presented a most amusing technical feat.

    I have always attempted to have technique be at the heart of my work, taking precedence over everything else. I believe that in a world where art is so fluctuating, so uncertain, so undefined, technique gives one a grounding."

    Thierry Bosquet, Brussels, Mai 2013


    Thierry Bosquet is a sentinel, a watchman. He belongs to those of which we will not say : « There are so few who watch for the moment when light splashes across darkness. » (M. de G.)

    Thierry does not call himself « artist ». He is a painter.

    Thierry Bosquet has worked for opera, danse and theater since the early 60’s; he doesn’t stop and he never runs dry, nor do his genius and generosity.

    He was 21 when he drew up his first Opera sets for la Monnaie. He was Maurice Béjart’s regular designer. Thierry Bosquet knows Versailles like none other and was named Chevalier des arts et des lettres by the Minister of Culture the French Republic.

    He has designed well over 100 opera sets at The Royal Opera La Monnaie in Brussels, he has also worked for the San Francisco Opera, New York City Opera, Geneva, La Scala in Milan, Munich, Palermo, Baalbeck as well created numerous theater set designs in Brussels, or Le Grand Carousel de Versailles...

    Thierry Bosquet is one of those who watches for that moment when light splashes across darkness.

    His deep instinctual sense of beauty and innate perception of history his patience and his gentleness tune in fugue and counterpoint, with finesse and delicacy, the world of The Silence of the Bells.

  2. Stephen Shank

    "The Silence of the Bells is an old English tale our mother used to tell us. I was fascinated by bells who would refuse to ring, who wouldn’t do the very thing they were made to do. As a child I was mystified by the effort of those who came bearing gifts hoping to make the bells ring. The rich objects brought forth on Christmas Eve and described by my mother dazed me as I stared at a little boy, eyes lifted up.

    The power of a child, the robustness and the self-assurance of vulnerability: they mesmerized me. The broken, muddy, insignificant ordinary and harmless one could change the world, contained the secret to change, to transformation.

    I loved the story, it seemed to unfold in a timeless space of solitude and quiet. I could hear in my mother’s words the building with the silent bells rising from the bare and lonely plain. I could hear the footsteps of the the travellers as they approached their destination.

    There was something way beyond themselves that drew them year after year. They knew not what it was, the beauty of oddity, or the compulsion to resolve enigma...

    The bells need ring. They owed the ringing to all. Gifts were a must. The child I was watched a crowd advancing, each believing their gift might be the best, as pushing came to shove.

    Yet every year my mother told the story. There was a gentleness in her telling, a conviction that events would take an unexpected turn. There was the sound of a voice, musicality, and rhythm which drew me up.

    Thierry’s work is of the same stuff. He carries with him an immense technique, the knowledge of substance, of colors, of architecture and costume as well as madness, and extravagance in his compositions. Thierry pours light and imagination into our black boxes. Thierry knows there are things higher and he pulls us up.

    Stephen Shank


    Stephen Shank was born of American parents in Belgium. He is based in Brussels where he works as an actor and director. His work has been described as physical, powerful, musical and image-full. A guiding line runs through his work: vulnerability.

    The verses of Yeats well describe his driving force:

    “... But love has pitched her mansion
    in the place of excrement
    For nothing can be sole or whole
    That has not been rent.”

    He has been touring in France with the touching and disconcerting monologue Voilà, (There you go!) the life slice of a man coming apart at the seams in the vapors of alcohol. The world of prisons has recently welcomed him.


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