Place Flagey, a Brussels square with a little taste of the Big Apple

If I could take my favorite New York City café and place it in Brussels, it would be at Place Flagey. If I could take my favorite New York City neighborhood and bring it closer, I would plunk it down on Place Flagey. If I could place my favorite indie cinema from NY near by, I'd set it up on Place Flagey.

When I can't be in New York City, I go to Place Flagey.

This rather intimate square in Ixelles, not too deep into the city, encompasses all the “little things” I miss about NYC. When I want to reminisce about walking in Central Park, I take a stroll around the Ixelles ponds. When I yearn for unique theater, music, or programs for the children, I visit Flagey , an art deco mecca of entertainment for the whole family. When I want the convenience of neighborhood commerce, I find small eateries, a bike shop, a book store, and an outdoor market.

For a dose of energy from an ecclectic mix of people, a light meal, a hot coffee drink, or a fresh mint tea, I push through the door of Belga Café – or simply sit on its terrace. With free wi-fi access, Belga Café is the perfect “hang out” for professionals, students and an artsy/literary crowd. The eatery also features live music. What better way to remember jazzy weekends in the Big Apple? For other dining experiences, plenty of restaurants sprawl into the side streets.

People revere NYC neighborhoods because of their energy, hustle and bustle. Place Flagey offers energy without over excitement and enough people without a crowd.

For a weekend brunch, a relaxing walk or unique entertaining, Place Flagey is a small square in Brussels that guarantees a perfect day (or night) out.

Playing in the Cabanes at Seneffe Castle

If you have ever walked into your child's bedroom to find sheets sprawled from the dresser, then tucked under the mattress over to the arm chair and tied unconvincingly to the window handle, keep reading. If you have ever walked into your living room and found blankets thrown over the dining table and clothes-pinned to its matching chairs, keep reading. Finally, if you have ever walked into your garden only to find plastic bags hanging from tree limbs and little heads peaking out to say, “Look at our tent!”, I have got the perfect outing for you.

Until November 2011, the Château de Seneffe is host to a magical exhibition that will please the child in, and with, us all. In French, cabane refers to any sort of little house whether up in a tree or down on the ground and usually the home-made variety using sticks, planks of wood, fabrics, etc. Just as any child, and any helpful adult, feels proud of her creation, the artists who have participated in “Cabanes” have produced real chefs-d'oeuvre. The concept behind each cabane may seem more sophisticated than child's play. But, one necessary aspect is irrevocably the same as what motivates any child to dig through the linen closet or through the garage... imagination.

This outdoor exhibition is entirely free – good news when thinking of how to entertain the little ones on the weekends. Upon entering the front gates into La Cour d'Honneur, Frederic Geurts demands attention with his metallic sphere cabane. Upon seeing this almost weightless construction, my six year-old Belgian surrealist immediately remarked, “Ça, c'est pas une cabane!” Imagination is the word of the day. There is no harm in reminding children, nor adults, that everyone can perceive differently what we all may be looking at. Immediately to the left of the gates is La Chapelle showcasing, in video, each cabane. This overview prefaces the very unique houses the visitor will be experiencing.

Guests to Seneffe can roam freely throughout the grounds. I recommend, however, stepping into the castle to pick up a brochure detailing the where and what of each exhibit. Since the drive from Brussels to Seneffe can take a good 45 minutes, this is also an ideal time to stop into the restrooms (to the right and down the stairs).

Stepping out of the entrance, my daughter and I turned left and proceeded to the Jardin des Trois Terrasses. Pierre Courtois works with cubical red designs to produce four cabanes. One sits like a tall rectangle framed by walls of greenery. The second one lacks walls but limits are marked by four red poles. The third one is the highest. This red cube literally hangs above the visitor. The final cabane resembles most what someone might find in their own garden made from mosquito netting. These four creations are a perfect introduction to the variety of forms a cabane can take and will take throughout the exhibition.

From the Jardin des Trois, we headed behind the shrubs and past Le Théâtre. Near the stream and its bridge, we were both eager to run into a cabane by Dimitri Vanggrunderbeek. His three red, green and yellow cubes tempted us all too strongly to peek our heads through their square windows.

We continued up the path to a rather American country scene – a saloon. Jason Van Der Woude creates a cabin one could find in any western movie. We walked around and glanced inside to find boots lined up as straight as the glasses on the bar. So real was the scene, I expected the upright piano to start playing itself.

Towards the Grand Bassin, my daughter and I arrived with a beautiful view of the château. She ran ahead as soon as the next cabin was in sight. Van Der Woude now contrasts the dark, closed in wood beams with an open, glass structure. On this particularly sunny day, the shadows shown as much a part of the cabane as its recycled beams.

Immediately following, Loreta Visic's cabane reminded me of all the washing waiting for me at home. She has created a house with very imaginative, and yet very appropriate, walls. Shirts, skirts, pants, underwear - wardrobes of colors, textures and styles - hang straight until the wind blows. “Look, I have the same stockings!” My daughter exclaimed. I could only imagine what she was conjuring up for her next cabane.

The rest of the promenade lead us back around to the castle. We walked into large boxes and admired towering spheres. While strolling through the grounds, more than just our voices rang in between the trees. Speakers, cleverly disguised as hanging flower pots, play recordings from works by Casanova and Madame de Sévigné. Once at the Orangerie, we took advantage of the cafe to have a refreshment and talk about our favorite exhibits.

If, during your visit, the weather is not as sunny and warm as we had it, the castle is definitely worth a visit. For more information, visit the website of the Domaine du Château de Seneffe at www.chateaudeseneffe.be. There is a variety of exhibitions and entertainment to enjoy.

Joan Miró, the Lyrical Painter: an exhibition at the ING Cultural Center in Brussels

Some works by Joan Miró may provoke certain on-lookers to remark, “A child could have done that.” To which, I do not believe Miro would have been completely insulted. In fact, years of process brought Miró to the simplicity and the innocence of the art he sought. Keep in mind that the words simple and innocent do not mean childish, even if child-like.

To begin, Miró was born in Barcelona in 1893. In 1919, a transitional year for Dadaism and Surrealism, Miró moved to Paris to be with his favorite artists and poets. He read Mallarmé and Baudelaire. He titled his works in French because that was the language of his favorite poets.

Poetry became a support of Miró's artistic exploration. He studied words so that those words could transmute themselves onto his canvases as letters or as symbolic shapes. As with poetry, a good poet must know the rules to be able to break them effectively. Likewise, a true artist is trained classically to be able to explode that education effectively. Miró's cubist work certainly does not resemble his later work, but he needed that stage to evolve. Looking at the full picture of his artistic journey, the eye witnesses the progression of straight-edges into the dreaminess of his curved line.

The start of this exhibition unveils how some of his forms literally took shape - by taking on the contour of print images he cut and pasted into collages. He would eventually paint the placement and form of the cutouts onto a canvas. Beyond black lines on a white background, his primary colors bleed behind the dark outbursts in his subsequent series.

As with many exhibitions, the viewer starts to recognize patterns, colors and lines unique to each artist. We, as spectators, can experience the personal journey of the artist. Miró had been studying art in Paris. The formality of that education gave him the yearning to reach out, stretch out, find a freedom. During the fearsome years of fascism and war, Miró went to the Normandy coast. He would peer out to the black sky above the sea. His anger and frustration during this period created Constellations. The vibrant colors would always be present in Miró's work. However, the war years splashed more black - his personal explosions against the fascist regime. As the enemy entered France, Miró moved back to Barcelona.

Advancing in his personal quest for freedom, Miró reached a point where he had had enough of painting. Still by every means an artist, he experimented with different materials like a poet explores different sounds and rhythms. He used cardboard, metal, fabric, rope, among others. He burned, molded, disfigured, manipulated the materials as if he were searching for their essence, and at the same time, his own. Half-way through the exhibition, the patron can see the evolution from painting to tapestry. A collage of fabrics and materials replace his canvases and acrylics.

Down the next hall, color starts to seep back into the foreground. Miró's colors provide meaning. For example, blue represents the spiritual while green represents the material.The artist enters his last years of life fully aware of them. He strives then to master the art of simplicity. To paraphrase, he once said that the line on the canvas may seem simple, may not have taken long to produce, but the idea behind the movement had taken him years to master. This statement is evident after his trips to Japan. In that far away land, he comes closer to home, to his inner freedom to produce a precise stroke of the brush or of the bamboo pen.

This tightness and sparseness of line and form could have only arose from his life's journey. From collage, through poetry and text, into forms atop which splotches a black scream, Miró stretches and tightens and controls the end product. He returns to a humble canvas and paints with respect the final strokes of his life. Helas, when someone looks at a work by Miró, he might say it looks like a child would have or could have done the same. And as far as the artist's reaction to that, Miró might be all too content to hear it.

In the end, art is never above a child's grasp. The organization, Art Basics for Children (ABC), has masterly set up artistic stations on the bottom floor of ING to grab onto young creativity and encourage the exploration of different techniques and styles unique to Miró. In this sense, a visit to the Miró exhibition at ING is a worthwhile outing – either as a quick run-through during your lunch hour or as an afternoon destination for the whole family.

Photo taken at the Foundation Jaon Miro in Barcelona

Hopefully, this taste of Miró entices an interest to see the collection of Miró at the Joan Miró Foundation in Barcelona. I had first visited the foundation in 2004 after having already an appreciation for the artist. I was in absolute amazement of so many of his masterpieces in one place. I was thrilled yet again to pop into the Espace Culturel ING and bask in a small part of Miró's world.

For more information, refer to the following sites:

Joan Miro, the Lyrical Painter at ING, Place Royale

Art Basics for Children (ABC)

Joan Miro Foundation Barcelona

La Maison Autrique, chez un ami

by Michelle Nott

Eugène Autrique, an engineer and friend of Victor Horta, lived at what is now 266 Chaussée de Haecht in Schaerbeek. One of Horta's first creations, the house was commissioned in 1893. Already by walking up to the facade, and back across the street for a thorough view, the visitor gets a glimpse into the life that inspired the home. Horta and Autrique were both “Franc-Maçons”. Symbols of this discreet organization appear in the door frame, in the sculpted stone and in the iron design of the window décor. Although the turn-of-the century thought protested traditional neo-gothique style, that and the Egyptian motifs present in Autrique's facade possibly refer to the Grand Temple in Brussels.

Horta's Art Nouveau style is well-known for considering the specifics of the inhabitants as much as of the building materials themselves. Autrique came from a middle-class family and stated that he wanted nothing luxurious. Economically-speaking the choice of glass was particularly considered. The architect chose different qualities of glass for the upper and lower sections of the guillotine windows. Also, white stone was rare for such a bourgeois house of the time, but Horta was adamant. He took charge of those himself. Despite Autrique's more modest budget (compared to their friend Tassel, for whom Horta creates a house the same year), the architect still succeeded in creating a noteworthy example of art nouveau.

Before ringing the bell, I looked up to Horta's first arabesque. These unique sgraffiti appear between the third-floor windows. I rang the bell. This early into Spring, not many tourists were about, just another woman taking photographs alongside me and a mother/daughter pair from Australia. The house was ours. Once in awhile, our flashes crossed paths, but otherwise, I walked right into the end of the 1890s, alone.

I appreciated the light of the entryway, accented by clear walls sharing only enough space for a couple of golden light fixtures. I then stepped into the living room, in between the marble pillars towards the grand piano past the fireplace mantle, and under chandeliers hanging from wood panels. I looked out to the garden. In a small room to the right was a coat rack. A hanging hat gives the impression that someone just might be home. I turned and looked down a staircase.

I got much more than I expected from my visit to la Maison d'Autrique. I went looking for the banister curves, stained glass and metal work I appreciated so much in Victor Horta's own house on rue Américaine. In fact, after coming from Horta's own house, la maison d'Autrique seems relatively simple and yet still so rich. I ventured down to the basement.

The smooth wooden railing slid my hand to the last curve, bringing my foot onto the small, maroon and off-white tiles. As soon as I walked into the main hall of the domestic area, I looked left into the kitchen. “Here's where everyone is!” This thought caught me by surprise... and yet seemed so obvious.

This area of the house was less an example of Art Nouveau, strictly-speaking, than it was an example of the art of life. Copper pans sat on the stove burners. White and blue ceramic pots stood on the counter under the street-level windows. I peered up the small service staircase almost expecting someone to be bringing down groceries.

The tiles in the laundry area combine to form blue flowers resting in the center of hexagons. Feet stood many hours ironing and folding at a table. They went kilometers peddling under the sewing machine. A thread hangs loose from its bobbin. At the back, light comes in through the windows pretending to sear the linens that have been hanging past their drying time. According to his “Mémoires”, Horta was careful not to bury too deeply the basement, assuring a certain amount of light without having to raise the ground floor more than necessary. The habits of the people living within the walls, in between the stories, from the cellar to the attic, indeed designed the home.

After a peek in the wine cellar, where bottles still stack high, I continue my exploration.

The banister guides my hand along its smooth surface back up to the ground floor. I turn left down the hall and left again to follow my wooden guide. Before my foot steps up, I admire the beautiful arabesque in the floor tiles. At a certain angle, I could make out a swervy A. Coincidence or intentional?

Although the majority of the banister looks rather traditional, Japanese art influenced the start of the railing.(The same design is not seen in the service stairs.) Besides all the hands who have helped Luc Maes restore this home, how many have held on to this house in one form or another? I imagine Mr Autrique climbing these stairs every evening. Tired from a long day at work, how much did he notice the amazing Japanese-inspired stained-glass window that welcomed him at the top of these stairs? Its natural tones color the tree, flowers, and sky differently in the evening than the shades provoke under a morning sky.

Autrique's bedroom is behind the next wall. Despite the large space, the beige and green-patterned wallpaper induces a cozy feel. Wood panels reinforce the strength of this room, supporting a chandelier above the elaborately carved bed frame. The freshly fluffed duvets just beg someone to lie down. A certain spirit in the room is further enhanced by the painting above the headboard – an angelic scene of doves flying to the heavens. This relatively classic work of art contrasts the Japanese-influenced décor associated with Art Nouveau. And so, a work by Japanese artist Yoshitaka Amano (born 1952) stands beside the bed. More examples of the artist's dreamy landscapes, creatures and fairies are appreciated throughout the house.

Facing the back garden, a vanity area with a sink, mirror and toiletry bags convinces the visitor of a presence in the house. To the left, a dumb-waiter opens ready to descend a tray of tea. A bathroom door cracks open just enough to reveal the claw-footed tub. Thanks to Luc Maes' renovations, a certain life breaths again within the space.

A small passage connects Autrique's bedroom to a large room facing the street. Yoshitaka Amano's video display peers down under the chandelier, onto photo albums lying open on a dining table. Floral-patterned curtains hang like secrets, tied to the sides just enough to hint at an outdoor light.

The floral design continues at the base of lamps and into the hallway onto the tiles. A burgundy and green palette swirls into arabesque patterns. My wandering leads back under the stained-glass windows around and up to another floor before reaching another story. An open space soaks up the sun. The warmth through the window panes create a lightness Autrique must have felt standing on the terrace overlooking the garden.

Up another flight of stairs, I find an office space, a possible sitting room and a bedroom. Three hats hang on a coat rack next to a globe tempting me to wonder where they must have hung in their previous lives.

In the street-facing room, lacy white bed covers lie and hang just barely above the rug. The brown and gray-loomed tones create a delicate floral pattern softening the hard wood floors. This chandelier is much more simple than the previous metal branches blooming into glass petals. An almost bare ring surrounds the light source decorated with two bowing stems of leaves.

I almost venture back down to the ground floor before remembering one last set of stairs to my left. They lead to the attic. Having spent this home tour in my own solitude, the statue of a man on the top floor startles me. This attic was Axel Wappendorf's space. He spent many years working in this office area as an inventor. Unfortunately, his most reputable creations have not been found. But before hurrying back down to the entrance, my curiosity takes the best of me. A peep-hole is open. I look through. I hope curiosity takes the best of you and you venture to this Schaerbeek home.

If it weren't for the skill and talents of craftsmen, be them from the turn-of-this-century or last, Victor Horta's architectural masterpieces would be less than that. Any aesthetic beauty catches people's attention, but it is a beautiful soul that holds on to it.

I will surely return to Autrique's home and visit more of Horta's creations. Whether an old friend or a new acquaintance, the architect studied his clients well - their daily routines, qualities and expectations. It is now, in venturing back through their doors, that each generation can resuscitate the lives that inspired them.

La Maison Autrique

Chaussée de Haecht, 266
1030 Brussels Tel : 02/2156600
info@autrique.be

http://www.autrique.be

Open Wednesday to Sunday, 12 until 6pm (last entry at 5:30)

For more information, refer to At the Home of Victor Horta and Victor Horta and his Art Nouveau

By the way, there is a fabulous little organic shop and tea room just around the corner:

namasthé

Avenue Louis Bertrand, 25

1030 Schaerbeek

Open Tuesday to Friday, 9am until 6pm and Saturday, 9:15am until 5:30pm

www.namasthe.be