Gezicht op het bovenste deel van de voorzijde van het Paleis van Justitie in Brussel, België before 1894

Curator: The steely tones of this cityscape render the scene quite dramatic. Almost austere. Editor: Indeed. We’re looking at an image of the Palais de Justice in Brussels. It's an anonymous print made before 1894, focusing on the upper part of its facade. The cool blues give the scene a timeless quality. It could be yesterday, it could be a century ago. Curator: It reminds me of a dreamscape. An oppressive dreamscape. It feels like an M.C. Escher drawing somehow. The lines and shapes are imposing, relentless. What do you make of it, structurally? Editor: It’s monumental, to be sure. This building, when it was built, was supposedly the largest single building constructed in the 19th century. And looking at this print, you can see the assertion of power, the embodiment of justice in the sheer scale of the architecture. Neoclassicism lends itself well to this sense of authority. Curator: But what kind of justice? When you see the scale, do you sense fairness, or some other kind of overwhelming force? Almost weaponized, this pursuit of truth. Editor: That’s precisely where I think it's crucial to interrogate these displays of power. The Palace represents the Belgian state and its judicial system, which historically has been implicated in the oppression of marginalized communities both at home, and especially in the Congo. So the aesthetics of power must be analyzed and placed in its historical context. Curator: I think I still struggle with these rigid designs. If you let your heart do the seeing, these buildings might soften up a little bit, whisper some other, more vulnerable narratives. You can dream of all the stories lived inside the building! Maybe the truth isn't always served cold. Editor: I appreciate your sentiment. We should also use art as a tool for challenging power, of unraveling these monumental legacies that cast long shadows. Curator: In the end, though, this imposing façade will forever whisper stories of humanity, of justice, of hope and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of vulnerability.