Jan Verheyen ft. Under the Same Sky

Jan Verheyen has worn Binôche for years. Not because it stands out, but precisely because it doesn’t. “There are also eyewear brands that scream: look at me,” he says. “I don’t like that. Just like I don’t understand why people wear clothing with the designer’s name printed on it in huge letters. It’s like you’re advertising for someone whose t-shirt you just paid a fortune for.”

For Under the Same Sky, we didn’t ask about the glasses. We asked him how he stays grounded in a world that refuses to slow down?

Cinema
His first answer doesn’t surprise him. Cinema. “Since my teenage years I’ve seen thousands of films that have sparked my imagination, taken me to wonderful places, and taught me about history, politics, and the human condition.” “That’s how, literally by watching, I learned the language of cinema and was able to make it my profession.” It’s no coincidence that a director traces his way of looking back to a dark room and a screen. What cinema did for Verheyen is exactly what Under the Same Sky is about: not just seeing, but learning to look.

Family
Who can you be completely yourself with, without having to explain anything? “My answer is a cliché: my wife Lien. She is my partner, my ally, my accomplice, my best friend, my confidante. She is, together with my daughter, my ‘cocoon,’ the place where I feel safe, loved, and secure, and which is the most important thing to me.”

Prays, or eats
Routine, he says, he used to underestimate. “I used to be afraid of routine, but now I notice I’m actually quite attached to habits. Eating together, for example, I think is hugely important as a family, as a couple. It’s real quality time.” He thinks of an American billboard he once saw: the family that prays together, stays together. His own version: replace “prays” with “eats.”

A different scale
The moment he felt most changed didn’t happen at home. A few years ago he went on a long trip with his family, away from the daily routine. “At times I found that emotionally overwhelming. When you stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon, or on the salt flats of Death Valley, that confrontation with your own insignificance is useful and moving. It helps put into perspective the trivial things you sometimes get worked up about.”

For Verheyen, the subtlety of Binôche follows the same logic as everything else he shares: no explanation needed, no exclamation marks. Just something that fits, and keeps fitting, even when no one is looking.