The Courier

‘A Streetcar Named Desire’. Stage photo.

© Le Public

Yet Brussels is in fact a cultural centre that has always attracted renowned figures from the arts and sciences: Lord Byron, Victor Hugo, Verlaine, Rimbaud and Jacques-Louis David, to name just a few. It was in Brussels that the latter produced one of the greatest works of European art, ‘The Death of Marat’.

Between the wars it was to Brussels that Einstein, Joliot Curie, Marie Curie, de Broglie, Planck and Heisenberg came every summer to unveil discoveries in physics and chemistry that would revolutionise the world.

Brussels is probably the only city in the world with a population of under a million to offer culture on such a scale. It is home to 70 museums, as many theatres, and ‘La Monnaie’ opera house, whose repute would surely have earned it the label ‘the best in the world’, had it been located in a certain neighbouring country.

But does this make it a major cultural capital? Two leading and committed players in the city’s cultural life give their somewhat contrasting opinions. Firstly, Anne Adriaens-Pannier, curator of this season’s notable exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art, entitled, ‘Léon Spilliaert, a free spirit’. Anne speaks with sensitivity and undisguised passion about Spillaert (1881-1946), about art, and about Brussels. Then, Michel Kacenelenbogen, co-director with Patricia Ide of the ‘Théâtre Le Public’ and, like Spillaert, a free spirit and passionate about all things cultural, has his say. Founded less than a decade ago, ‘Le Public’ has become a benchmark for the quality of its productions. Kacenelenbogen speaks out about the prejudices of the press and of the capital’s political circles.

Anne Adriaens-Pannier

Although Spilliaert came from Ostend, like many people who live in Brussels he benefited from everything going on in the city. At the turn of the century, and until 1914, Brussels was at the centre of what can be described as ‘avant-garde’ art. There was such feverish activity in Brussels at that time in literature, music and sculpture. Between 1880 and 1914, artists from all over the world were drawn here, invited by cultural associations such ‘Le Cercle des Vingt’ or ‘Le Cercle de la Libre Esthétique.’ Many international artists first displayed their works at these exhibitions before showing elsewhere. For Spillaert in particular, Brussels was a place of artistic self-discovery.

‘Le Cercle des Vingt’ and ‘Le Cercle de la Libre Esthétique’ were based on a revolt against the academicism of art and against any hierarchy within art or between the artist and the artisan, and above all against any authority such as the juries. The events they organised brought together musicians, painters and sculptor, all in the same space. This was ‘Gesamtkunstwerk’ in action, the principle of non-discrimination between the arts to which they subscribed. An architect, for example, would enlist the services of all kinds of artists to decorate and finish a house. One of the results of this approach is the ‘Palais Stoclet’, a gem of art nouveau. This was in the 1930s, the pre-war period, in which this cultural fervour in Brussels was at its peak.

After the war, during the 1950s, the influences principally came from outside Belgium, and from the United States in particular. What is interesting about Brussels is that we are not focused exclusively on Belgian art. Here at the Museum of Modern Art, for example, the contemporary section has works from India, Egypt and Africa alongside Belgian art. We are always very open. Perhaps we do not fight enough to safeguard Belgian culture. But at the same time, this openness that is enriching.

Is Brussels now losing its influence? Yes and no. Because today, rather than having one sponsor, namely a Belgian Minister of Culture, artists have several. They can approach governments of the French-speaking or Dutch-speaking communities.

The Dutch-speakers ask for nothing other than to immerse themselves in French-speaking culture and vice-versa. Just look at the number of theatre plays that are bilingual. One no longer differentiates between a Dutch-language or French-language production. It’s extraordinary. Brussels is genuinely a cultural capital.

Michel Kacenelenbogen

The attitude of the Brussels French-speaking media is paradoxical. If you scan what makes the cultural headlines, three-quarters of them are all about showbiz stars and lauding Belgians abroad. The remaining quarter who are bothered about Brussels are deliberately elitist. Fair enough, but not one rule for one and one rule for another. You cannot on the one hand go over the top about showbiz and on the other neglect local culture on the grounds that it is too ordinary. Take our production of ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ that you cited as an exceptional cultural event. It was talked about in the press, but not to an extent that reflected its real success.

I’m not saying this phenomenon is unique to Brussels. Journalists in French or Anglo-Saxon cultures certainly have the same tendency, but this is compensated for by the chauvinism of large countries where they are forced to cover home grown happenings.

One in four theatregoers who go to theatres subsidised by the French-speaking Community of Belgium, also comes to see plays at ‘Le Public’. Yet we receive less than 3% of these subsidies. It is as if specialist education swallowed up more of the budget than general education.

Of the public resources allocated to culture, too large a proportion goes to the Flemish-speaking Community of Brussels that represents just 20% of the city’s population.

So why despite everything do we have so many great Belgian artists? It is down to humility. That is a very important asset that protects us from showbiz culture. Since we could not afford all the glitz, anyway, we aim for quality. This is a side effect of the imposed humility.

Brussels is not a cultural capital. It is the capital of a country and of Europe. It’s a Europe that is too ready to take decisions in the name of its citizens and is a seat of power competing for influence. But I am active in theatre precisely because it gives some freedom, a place where one can make mistakes. In the modern world, this is a luxury.