Brussels is a superposition of stories, layers of meaning and symbols. A palimpsest of images, tales, and objects, all of them concurring in giving life to what we could define as the soul of the city.
The comprehension of a city is more of a process, a journey through its multifaceted nature and it requires time to decipher all the signs that bear its history. Walking around, sitting at bars and drinking (beer, of course), visiting prominent monuments, talking to people, reading streets names, going to major museums… the list could go on and on.
When you visit Brussels for a short time all the above can be a good starting point but when you live in the city you might feel the need to go a bit beyond the so-called not-to-be-missed and divert your path.
In my own experience searching also for the minor sites, the ones you don’t find listed in the first 10 things to see in the city, the once that are not instagrammable hold great surprises and add fundamental nuances to the comprehension of the city identity.
We could borrow (with some differences) the “Morellian method” which in history of art was a comparative method to discover the painter identity behind the picture. Basically, Giovanni Morelli theorized that focusing on the details of a painting (way of making hands, ears, and drapery) the artist revealed some automatic manners which proved “scientifically” the artist’s identity.
I think that to discover unexpected nuances of the city’s identity we could focus on something that is often overlooked and not taken into consideration by tourist nor citizens: small museums.
That is why with this column we want to explore with you the city countless small museums, we are sure that it will be a journey full of discoveries and it will add more pieces to the great mosaic that is Brussels.

An eclectic mansion of wonders: Charlier Museum.
The protagonist of this first instalment is the Charlier Museum, which is in the Saint-Josse-ten-Noode municipality. Perhaps the location is not the most inviting for strolling, avenue des Arts is heavily congested, and the area is almost entirely dedicated to offices, so unless one works there one might only pass by to go somewhere else. Moreover, opening hours are not so workers friendly, as the museum is closed on weekends. Letting alone these things, with a small effort and willingness, these inconveniences can be overcome.

Charlier Museum – facade
(courtesy Museum Pass).

The museum is a hotel de maître with a neoclassical character, sober, well-balanced, and yet distinguished thanks to the wide plinth, the unified walls, and the bluestone frames.
Walking through the door the visitor is catapulted back in time, when in the last decade of XIX century, businessman and patron of the arts, Henry Van Cutsem acquired the building and had it refurbished, demolishing the stables, for instance, to build a stunning exhibition gallery covered by a glass roof which immerses the room in great natural light, all works attributed to Victor Horta.
DID YOU KNOW? At the Charlier Museum you can practice TAI CHI every Friday morning until May 31st.
The museum is named after the Belgian sculptor Guillaume Charlier, who was one of Van Cutsem’s protégé and sole legatee who, in 1904, inherited the building and continued the patronage work of his predecessor.

Charlier’s memory is tangible in the whole building, not only with his sculptural works but also with paintings depicting him: I really like the one, by Georges Van Zevenberghen, with a Charlier caught in an intimate moment, reading something. Charlier’s sculptures are full of pathos and quite dramatic, some of my favourites are “Souvenir” in bronze, and the very delicate and melancholic “Young Sailor”, in marble.

Wandering through the rooms of this beautiful house we must forget modern museology, theory of display, and so on, just enjoy the profusion of silverware, paintings (a remarkable collection of Belgian painters of XIX and beginning of XX century, such as I. Verheyden, A. Boch, E. Wauters, A. Wiertz, to name a few), furniture that includes pieces of Louis XVI and Empire style, porcelain and faience objects, Renaissance tapestry and stained-glass windows, and a dining room entirely decorated with Chinese furniture and porcelain, and Japanese wallpaper.








As the objective of this column is not to tell you everything about the museum, but rather tickling your interest and imagination and exhort you to experience the museum in person, I have picked up a few highlights that, personally, I found interesting not only for their own artistic value, but especially because they contribute in giving those nuances to the history of the city I was talking about above.

- Guillaume Charlier – Portrait of Paul Panda Farnana
A couple of years ago during a decolonial tour of Matonge neighbourhood, I discovered Paul Panda Farnana, the first Congolese intellectual to graduate from Belgian higher education in 1909. I was fascinated by his story, born in 1888 in Nzemba, in 1895 Jules Derscheid took him to Belgium as a ‘boy’, household help. When he died, the custody was transferred to his sister Louise, who sent him school at the Royal Atheneum in Ixelles.
In 1919, Farnana participated in the first Pan-African Congress organised in Paris; together with other Congolese veterans of the First World War he founded the Union congolaise an “association for mutual aid and moral development of the Congolese race”. His political engagement was harshly contrasted, the Belgian government considered him a dangerous individual and the press portrayed him in a more hostile light. Panda Farnana died of poisoning at the age of 42.
I was positively surprised when I found out that Charlier had made a portrait of the young Panda Farnana, I haven’t found much information about the origin of this portrait, the spirit with which the sculptor realised it, whether with an exoticizing gaze or with a genuine interest for a human portrait. I will for sure continue to investigate it.
Louis Crépin – Quai-aux-briques (Brussels)
On the first floor, what got my attention, rather than the huge and gorgeous tapestry representing The Credo (The profession of Faith, 1500-1520), was the painting next to it. A very small view, by Louis Crépin, of the Quai aux briques as it looked before the filling of Sainte Catherine’s basin in 1850, which marked the elimination of the intra-muros port of Brussels. Sailing boats, water… quite an unusual view, especially for the citizens of XXI century who are not accustomed with the idea of Brussels being a city with a river and canals. Little traces are left of the city fluvial past, mainly the streets names are testifying the activities that once took place in the area (quai du bois à brûler, quai au foin and so on).

These two examples might seem a small details in the great fresco of the city, but it is thanks to these details that we might be able to look the city with different eyes, knowing the colours of its past to imagine new ones for the present and the future.