Razed

Do you know who Victor Horta is? I didn’t.

Then I wandered into a Horta exhibit at the Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts. Turns out, Horta was an architect who made Brussels one of the best places on earth to see art nouveau buildings.

The exhibit was about his masterpiece, an art nouveau mansion that was torn down in the 60s to make way for an apartment building that was – is – every bit as terrible as you’d expect from the kind of developer who would tear down a masterpiece to build an apartment building.*

Seeing the Horta exhibit reminded me that I’d decided to skip the actual Horta Museum. I only had two days in Brussels, couldn’t do everything – but now I was convinced I’d picked wrong.

I bring this up because it’s a theme with me and traveling. There’s never enough time, and I’m always lamenting the thing I didn’t do, or wondering what I should be doing instead of what I am doing, or if the view’s prettier from that bench over there.

And no, if you’re wondering: It’s not a far leap from traveling to life.

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* The mansion survives in lego form – literally in pieces in warehouses – and according to the exhibit, there’s now a plan to rebuild it. All the more reason to go back to Brussels.

Brussels

I can’t say I’ve always wanted to visit Brussels.

In fact, I’ve never had an opinion about Brussels. But most people here do: either pro (“like Paris but friendlier!”) or con (“Belgium: what’s the point?”). Meanwhile, I couldn’t even picture the Brussels postcard. I had no Brussels preconceptions, no stereotypes. It was disconcerting.

So I decided to see Brussels for myself.

My first impression was the lack of big city arrogance – New York has buzz, and shows it; London is cool, and knows it; Paris is beautiful, and leans over so you can see her cleavage. But Brussels is just nice. Humble, even.

Which is surprising, because for a small city, there’s a lot to be unhumble about. The main square is eye-popping, built at a time when they clearly believed more is never enough. The buildings are decorated with gold-leaf, stone curlicues, and unnecessary arches. The streets are littered with statues, many of whom pee or vomit water. Belgians also seem inordinately fond of animal statuary, so you’re often in the company of a granite dog or owl.

And that’s just old Brussels; to say nothing of what they started building a century ago.

Bruxellois

I had dinner with Sara, who used to work with me in California. Her friend Grant was there too, but you can’t see him: he was taking the picture.

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I was also kept company by this dog.

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And these owls.

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Victor Horta did not design this building. Paul Santenoy did. But it’s a good example of art nouveau that reminds me I need a better camera.