The episode in detail
From the 1973 oil crisis to Brussels’ first participatory bike workshops
The Ateliers de la rue Voot began in 1972, founded by three artists (a photographer, a ceramicist and a sculptor) who believed that any artistic practice could become a lever for social emancipation. The turn towards the bike came a year later, with the first oil crisis. In late 1973, the Belgian government introduced car-free Sundays, every Sunday, to save oil. There was nothing festive about it: it was a rationing measure.
The people running rue Voot drew a logical conclusion: if the crisis got worse, everyone would have to ride a bike. Better to learn mechanics now. The first participatory bike workshops opened in February 1974, run by Jean Motelot. The founding principle still holds, fifty years on: people do not drop off their bike to have it repaired. They learn to repair it themselves, with a mechanic’s help.
“If we all have to ride a bike, it helps to know a bit about mechanics. So we’re going to set up participatory workshops and learn to repair our own bikes.”
Circularity as an operating principle for more than fifty years
From the outset, the Ateliers worked with salvage. Bikes donated by individuals are stripped down, the reusable parts go into rebuilding other bikes, and the rest goes to the tip. This circular logic was never a marketing argument: it was an economic necessity that became a conviction.
The same logic applies to the art workshops. The analogue photography workshops set up chemical recycling and a water recovery system. Solar thermal panels were installed as early as the 1970s to produce the hot water needed to wash prints. Clay from the ceramics workshops is re-wedged and reused. Every activity in the house regularly reviews its environmental impact.
“All the activities have had this concern, from the start, to minimise their impact on the environment.”
Bikes rotting at the back of garages
Marina Cox describes a telling phenomenon. The Ateliers regularly get calls from building managers who have dozens of abandoned bikes piling up in their garages. A cable comes loose, a tyre goes flat, and the bike is left behind because its owner does not know how to fix it.
This is exactly where the participatory bike workshop makes sense. After two or three sessions, participants master basic repairs. Their bike no longer ends up at the back of a garage. They become self-sufficient, able to diagnose a fault and decide whether they can fix it themselves or need to call in a mechanic. This self-sufficiency for cyclists has been the association’s guiding thread for more than fifty years.
“Once they have been through here and done two or three sessions of participatory workshops, their bikes do not end up at the back of a garage.”
A car-free Brussels: conceivable and desirable
Marina Cox is categorical: a city with far fewer cars is both conceivable and desirable. But she immediately qualifies this: the bike alone will not be enough. The answer is multimodal. She cites the example of Berlin, where metro lines are replaced by buses at night and the metro runs all night at weekends. The result: far fewer Berliners own a car than Brussels residents.
The way Belgians relate to their cars has a cultural dimension that Marina Cox sums up with humour: Belgians do not stop at a brick in their stomach, they also have a turbo engine tucked away somewhere. She recounts an anecdote from the president of the European public transport association, who lived on the outskirts of Brussels: in his neighbourhood, only the Belgians drove their cars. The Dutch and the Germans used the metro.
“Belgians do not stop at a brick in their stomach. They also have a turbo engine tucked away somewhere.”
The bike is no longer a punishment: a paradigm shift
Marina Cox observes a recent shift in how the bike is seen. The health crisis acted as an accelerator. The bike has stopped being seen as a burden and become a pleasure, including for commuting. This shift comes alongside growing interest in bike touring and a form of deliberate slowness.
Over thirty years of cycling, Marina Cox has noticed a clear change in how motorists see cyclists. Systematic hostility has largely faded. The bike is gradually moving out of the status of a militant cause and into the everyday. The Ateliers de la rue Voot are playing their part in this shift by showing that alternatives are possible, accessible and within everyone’s reach.
“There’s been a small paradigm shift: the bike is no longer seen as a punishment. You can even find pleasure in it.”
