Koninklijke Maatschappij van Tuinbouw te Brussel, ter ere van Willem I Frederik, koning der Nederlanden 1826

Editor: This is a fascinating metal relief sculpture, a medal really, by Joseph-Pierre Braemt, created in 1826. It commemorates the Royal Horticultural Society in Brussels, honoring Willem I Frederik, King of the Netherlands. The detail is impressive! What jumps out at you when you see it? Curator: You know, looking at Willem's profile, so meticulously rendered in metal, I'm struck by how power used to be displayed. It’s almost as if his stoic expression is a performance. But beyond that, isn't it funny how we immortalize these guys? A medal feels so quaint, like a little pat on the back for… ruling? The flip side with the flowery text – ‘Societas Regia…’ – it's pure classical ambition meets agricultural club. Makes you wonder what Willem actually knew about horticulture. Or perhaps he just liked roses as much as anyone else? Editor: That contrast is really interesting. So, on the one hand, it’s pomp and circumstance. But then on the other, it's, like, a very localized, specific achievement? What do you make of that tension? Curator: Well, I think that’s precisely the point, isn’t it? Power seeks legitimacy through association. Horticulture, cultivation, growth—these are all very fertile, and politically safe, concepts. Supporting them publicly was a smart PR move, then and probably now, even if you secretly preferred paving everything over for more car parks! The medal almost hints at that strange dance between image and substance. Editor: So it’s less about King Willem’s actual gardening skills and more about… image association. It sounds like a very elaborate historical thumbs up! Curator: Precisely. Or, if you prefer, a very shiny, circular meme.