Stadhuis te Brussel 1839

Editor: This is "Stadhuis te Brussel," an engraving made in 1839 by Philippe Benoist, currently housed at the Rijksmuseum. It strikes me as a very formal depiction; the meticulous detail and grand architecture have this air of almost… bureaucratic weight to it. How do you interpret this work? Curator: Looking at Benoist's engraving, I see the city hall as a symbolic vessel. Notice the spire, piercing the sky—it is no mere decoration. It’s a visual assertion, reaching for something beyond the earthly. Consider, too, how the building dominates the square, dwarfing the figures below. What feelings are conjured for you by such overwhelming structure? Editor: A bit intimidated, honestly! It feels like it represents established power. Curator: Precisely! But consider the details within that power: the countless windows, each a potential eye. In this period, architecture often served as a stage for civic identity. What narratives might these windows reflect of the aspirations, or even anxieties, of 19th-century Brussels? What kind of memory is he building into this image? Editor: That’s a fascinating way to put it. I hadn't thought about the "eye" aspect, about witnessing! The figures milling about almost seem secondary, though, don’t they? Curator: Perhaps their relative smallness emphasizes the enduring nature of civic institutions compared to fleeting human lives. Consider the enduring weight this scene is supposed to conjure up. Do you notice this tension now, this fleeting-versus-enduring quality? Editor: I definitely do! I initially just saw it as a detailed cityscape, but seeing it as a carefully constructed symbol… changes everything. Curator: Exactly. Now, every glance at this image carries a story—of power, permanence, and the persistent dialogue between people and place. It's what Benoist preserves.