Peninsula (2009) stages the soundtrack of a painting. With a microphone on the backside of the canvas, Carremans recorded the different rhythms and approaches of painterly gestures onwards the surface. From the recorded material he created a 40-minute soundtrack. In this process the canvas starts to function as a pallet, but instead of being the foundation for a visual chromatic array it becomes the intermediator for an auditive one. By removing the actual canvas itself, the painting loses every indication of size but clearly turns into a form that emphasizes the scale of the work depending on the space where it is shown.
As for being a colour-blind painter whose work concerns the problematic of colour-use and the truthfulness of appearances as commonly perceived images, the move from colour to sound becomes a highly interesting way to reconfigure chromatic systems. Surrounded by experimental music and noises in his studio everyday, listening cannot but play a role in Carreman's work. It does not manifest itself directly on a formal level though. Sound and image rather constitute two parallel universes that come together exclusively in the artist's mind. This is also reflected in the installation of the work as it establishes a stereo situation in the ground floor restroom, with the left channel mounted in one and the right channel in the other toilet both. Inspired by Japanese restrooms with optional ambient music to tone down unwanted bodily noises and by Félix Gonzàlez-Torres' Untitled (Perfect Lovers) (1991) -installed above the restroom door on first floor- Carreman's work makes people feel somehow connected, if not synchronized, by the 'soundtrack'.