Gezicht op de façade van de Kathedraal van Sint-Michiel en Sint-Goedele in Brussel 1873 - 1890

Editor: So, here we have a photograph from the late 19th century, sometime between 1873 and 1890, of the facade of the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula in Brussels. The photographer is unknown. It's striking, the stark geometry, like a cathedral trapped in amber. What stands out to you in this image? Curator: Amber! Yes, what a wonderfully evocative way to put it! It makes me think of petrified history. It's more than just a picture of a building; it’s an encounter, isn’t it? A meeting between then and now. The anonymous photographer—what were they hoping to capture, do you think? Was it just documentation, or was there something more, something of their own soul reflected? Editor: Hmm, I guess documentation at the time, perhaps? But maybe that very desire for "pure" documentation is, in itself, an act of interpretation. This very still image… how do you think its stillness affects its meaning? Curator: The stillness amplifies the weight, doesn’t it? It invites a deep consideration of time and presence, not only of the cathedral's enduring existence but of our own fleeting moment with the photograph. The gaze, unblinking, that holds two worlds. It is a silent shout, if you will. Don’t you think? It urges a silent contemplation. Editor: I see what you mean. It makes you think about what the building has seen, what it represents. All those years silently witnessing history. I initially saw this photo as just a cityscape of the facade, but it almost becomes like a portal through time. Curator: Absolutely! And doesn't this new found relationship with an ‘old’ picture affect our day to day life now? It all blurs in a wonderful mesh.