EN
Site (non) specific neon building kit no.005
by
Merijn Haenen
Merijn left a message for you
For the entrance to Villa, Merijn Haenen has composed a light installation in Site (non)specific neon building kit no.005 (2025). Originally produced for commercial use, these discarded tubes are given a new life. Freed from their roles as tools of advertising, they now explore themes of value and permanence. The lights guide visitors through a glowing, flowing path – turning the simple act of entering or leaving into a moment of heightened attention. The work is both sculptural and functional: a threshold that hums, flickers, and subtly shapes your perception of the building before you even realise it.
Year | 2025 |
Type | installation |
Material | Neon lights, transformers, high-voltage silicone cable, electrode caps, plexiglass, wood |
Work in Progress
Where many artists prefer a blank canvas, Merijn works with what already exists. His approach, which he charmingly calls site (non)specific, responds directly to the conditions of each environment. An installation could never be reconstructed exactly the same way, yet its components could return in new configurations elsewhere. The discarded neon tubes Merijn collects are fixed in color and form, yet open to new compositions. Like building blocks. Nothing is glued or permanent. Everything could be taken apart. Each work remains temporary, a site (non)specific installation.
“All my works can be deconstructed. Nothing is glued, therefore all are temporary.“
Merijn embraces functional aesthetics. Cables, wiring, and transformers are intentionally customized and carefully arranged in dialogue with their environment. The architecture and its details, even safety and climate equipment, becomes part of the composition. By working with transparency, like through engraved plexiglass, Merijn gives a glimpse into usually concealed technical systems. He invites viewers to come closer, to follow the lines, to wonder how everything connects.
Trivia
Neon lights are designed to burn 24/7. Even at night, when the museum is closed, you’ll see Merijn’s light shine through the glass in the door.
Merijn installed his work so your view changes depending on whether you are arriving or leaving. Approaching the museum, you see one red neon and the glow of another; walking in gives you the full composition; and when you leave, the doorway frames the blue lights in an entirely new way.
About Merijn Haenen

Merijn Haenen (1989) composes tactile collages, transforming discarded remnants of consumer culture. Neon lights, plexiglass, ratchet straps, receipts. His artwork feels both familiar and intangible. Merijn’s practice is rooted in intuition and play. His installations form structured yet intuitive systems where rhythm emerges through contrast, relating to his background as a graphic designer. We are invited to reflect on these objects beyond their market-driven origins, and challenged in how we assign value to what is seen and unseen in our environments. Merijn lives and works in Rotterdam.
A corridor of light
Over het werk van
Merijn Haenen
On YouTube, there is a video of Akihabara in the early 1990s. The iconic Tokyo district for electronics and games. It is dark outside, and the camera glides past the skyscrapers. Everywhere, absolutely everywhere, neon lights and LED screens shine. Everything moves and glows in that dark night. That this video was shot more than thirty years ago seems almost unbelievable. It could have been yesterday.
The technological history of Akihabara lives on in the countless stores and retro shops that are still there. Since the 1960s, bright advertisements have lit up the facades. Neon was used to stand out in the city’s chaos and became a visual symbol of progress and modernity.
A technical circuit
For Villa, artist Merijn Haenen wanted to create something that fit this atmosphere: a fairly dark room that calls for light. With his graphic design background, he studied at the Willem de Kooning Academy, he has now been making autonomous work for about four years. This graphic influence is clearly visible in his work: he prefers to work within defined parameters, with a ‘problem’ that needs to be ‘solved,’ as in this case, the entrance to the building.
Actually, there is a fire door directly opposite the main door, while visitors need to be guided to the door on the right. Merijn always works with movement in the space to lead the viewer. His installation first directs the eye upwards, then to the right, guiding visitors to the entrance. For those leaving, this entrance also functions as the exit. In his work, he deliberately seeks corners that are not immediately visible. His installations invite exploration, drawing viewers closer. The idea is that when you leave the museum and see the work again from a different angle, you receive a gift: a new perspective on the same work.
He finds it interesting that with this installation, made of neon, he is constrained by technology. The work could not exist without the transformers and circuits. This functional aesthetics appeals to him: aesthetic choices emerging from necessity.
Neon lights
Merijn has been working with neon lights for three years. The neon lights he uses all have a history. They were once installed somewhere, part of a facade, or were never sold for aesthetic reasons, like color or shape. It is precisely these inherent qualities of the material that appeal to him. Over time, he has built a substantial collection of neon lights and selects the necessary elements in advance.
But it is not only the visual qualities of neon that draw him. The history of the objects he uses is also important. Neon has a history in advertising and is about claiming attention. In his book Being and Neonness, philosopher Luis de Miranda writes about this history that clings to neon lights:
“When we hear the word neon, an image pops into our heads: a combination of light, colors, symbols, and glass. This image is itself a mood. It carries an atmosphere. It speaks … of the essence of cities, of the poetry of nights, of the 20th century.”
Merijn has also developed a series of sculptures titled Building Kits. These sculptures are assembled from separate parts, similar to construction kits. Everything is dismantlable and temporary, and most works include a small neon light. His fascination with technology dates back to his childhood, when he would take apart old radios to see how they worked.
Around fifteen years ago, people craved the magic of devices—think of the first iPhones or Alexander Klöpping, a regular guest on De Wereld Draait Door: people wanted to be enchanted by new gadgets and functions. Today, however, there are so many devices whose workings—and the systems behind them—we do not understand, from smart refrigerators to car tracking on highways, that we crave transparency. Mobile phones that only allow texting and calling are becoming popular again, as a reaction to the overload of stimuli.
Merijn plays with this idea in his work. The Building Kits are, for example, transparent boxes in which the viewer can see a neon light as well as wires, screws, and blocks. He wants to reveal how things work and allow the viewer to keep discovering elements by looking closely—even after an hour. Where some artists might make the same work ten times in slightly different forms, Haenen chooses to reinvent himself each time. All his works share the same foundation—neon—but are never identical. The curiosity sparked by opening an old radio in his youth still underlies his practice.
Kaizen
A concept Merijn has been focusing on lately is Kaizen.
Kaizen is a Japanese business philosophy of continuous improvement, where small, gradual changes are implemented in all aspects of a company to achieve large results over time. The term literally means “change for the better.”
In his Building Kits series, each sculpture contains a number of improvements compared to the previous one. These are small adjustments that he does not plan in advance but that emerge during the making of the individual works.
One example is the hanging system. In the first versions, the work was attached directly to the wall with screws. In later works, he used loops, so the screws could be pre-installed in the wall, and the work could simply be hung. In this way, the works evolve through the changes implemented along the way.
Akihabara
In the fall of 2025, Merijn will have a two-month residency in Akihabara. He wants to be further inspired by neon lights there. He remains fascinated that these objects have existed for decades yet still have a timeless, contemporary appearance. The contrast also fascinates him: in this Tokyo district, the neon lights scream as advertisements, but when he places them in a different context and space, they create a warm, concentrated glow.
Tokyo captivates him: there is a store for everything, and the city is steeped in efficiency. Even at restaurants, you can pay outside at a machine before eating. One cook can serve thirty people this way. This system, the pursuit of maximum efficiency, he finds brilliant. Yet he also notices that the social aspect sometimes disappears; the functional logic continues to fascinate him endlessly.



