The past and present are a bit at odds in this most beautiful of European cities.
The battle began in earnest after Bruges - or Brugge in Flemish - was named the 2002 Cultural Capital of Europe, a coup that required a planning committee be appointed to oversee the investment in large renovation projects. That’s when the traditionalists and modernists crossed swords.
Architecture is the issue.
“We are a conservative people,” says Bob Warnier, amateur historian and former chief of protocol for Bruges. “We don’t mind modern as long as it fits in with its surroundings.”
The new (2002) concert hall, for example, sits at the edge of the open ‘t Zand plaza.
After a worldwide competition, the contract for the design was awarded to Belgian architects Paul Robbrecht and Milde Daem.
It is described in tourism brochures as “a fourth presence on the skyline that has been dominated for centuries by the Belfry, the Church of Our Lady and St. Salvator’s Cathedral.”
The result was “a triumph of technical ingenuity,” but the citizens of Bruges had preferred another design that was much more modern, says Warnier. They wanted something like the Sydney Opera House.
The Concertgebouw that opened in 2002 is a solid brick structure that towers over the nearby cafes and quiet streets that residents and visitors have walked for hundreds of years. For music lovers, it is a marvellous addition to the city, with a beautiful auditorium and excellent acoustics, buyt it is still a bone of contention for those who feel it is not in harmony with the rest of the city.
The politicians and the bureaucrats wanted to leave their mark, though, so amid the medieval splendour of the ancient town that Warnier describes as the country’s “fifth city, but really more the first village in Belgium,” there are anomalies.
The city is, after all, world renowned for its ancient beauty and has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Hundreds of years ago, it was a thriving commercial and cultural centre, a Hanseatic seaport.
“But the sea withdrew,” explains Warnier, and the city fell into an economic slump. It became “what is called a ghost town,” he explains, “but we prefer to call it a sleeping beauty.”
There was no money to modernize, no money to replace old buildings with new, so “the poverty of the past became the foundation of our future.”
It is the treasures of the past that attract millions of visitors each year to this Venice of the north, set along 20 kilometres of canals.
Around every corner is a wonderful surprise: medieval buildings that house the great works of the Flemish Primitives; outdoor modern art by the so-called Young Primitives; beautiful sculptures, including Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child at the Church of Our Lady; horse-drawn carriages carrying visitors in style; street musicians clad in Renaissance garb; narrow cobblestone lanes.
On a little lane near the new concert hall there is a series of row houses, on one side of the street, those built in the 17th century, on the other, those built only 20 or 30 years ago. The newer houses replaced some “ugly, rundown homes” but they are “somehow in harmony with the others,” says Warnier.
A stroll through the city is a feast for the eyes and ears - and spirit.
It’s Paris without the noise and traffic, lovely by daylight, splendid at night as soft light illuminates the grand old buildings and the music of the carillon rings.
The carillon is at the top of the Belfry, or Bel Fort.
“The Belfry is to Bruges what the Eiffel Tower is to Paris or the Leaning Tower is to Pisa,” says Warnier, who grins and leans to the left. At its base is a model of the tower and surrounding area “so that the blind can feel what it’s like here.”
It is inscribed in Braille in the three official languages of Belgium - Flemish, French and German - plus English.
Sixty per cent of Belgians speak Flemish, 39 per cent speak French and one per cent speak German.
“But most people around the world think that the majority speak French,” says Warnier.
“That’s Agatha Christie’s fault. Inspector Poirot spoke a kind of French,” he adds dryly.
A few metres from the sweeping Market Square where the Belfry is located is Burg Square, presided over by church and state: the Basilica of the Holy Blood, a 12th-century edifice, is Romanesque style; the city hall next door is 14th-century gothic style and “served as an example for many others all over the country,” Warnier explains. Next to it is the beautifully restored Old Registry Office in Renaissance style, on the roof sculptures of “two famous judges, Moses and Aaron.”
Across the way, a newer sculpture, commissioned for the 2002 celebrations, is an ultra-modern steel and glass structure. The $1 million Pavillion of Bruges by Japan architect and artist Toyo Ito sits near the residence of the provincial governor.
“I have yet to meet a tourist who likes it. The people of Bruges don’t like this - because the foundations of the former cathedral have disappeared now. The idea was to give a view on city hall and give that impression that you are through a lace handkerchief.”
It has failed to impress, however.
Not all modern art has met with disapproval, however. The spectacular fountain and sculpture in ‘t Zand plaza near the Concertgebouw is a popular gathering place for young and old, a welcome work of art in the sweeping open square where the market is held each week.
It was designed by local artists Stefaan Depuydt and Livia Canestraro with four groups of statues: The Bathing Laides, symbolizing the Flemish cities of Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp and Kortrijk; Flemish landscape, portraying the fields of Flanders; The Fisherman who symbolizes the link between Bruges and the sea; The Cyclists, representing the new Bruges as a tourism destination (many visitors rent bikes to get around here).
Another of their sculptures is a lovely little flower basket at the edge of one of the canals. It is dedicated to the memory of Franz Van Acker, the former mayor of Bruges.
“He was a fine man, a man of vision. He died too young,” says Warnier, who worked at city hall for 33 years. “There are some, though, who say that each flower in the basket stands for each of the couple’s sculptures commissioned for the city.”
In one quiet corner, though, there are no sculptures. The Beguinage is a quiet, walled oasis founded in 1245 by the Geguines, the widows of Crusaders who lived in a religious community but without taking vows.
“They were completely independent,” Warnier says. “So, in fact, they were the first emancipated women in our history.”
The whitewashed buildings of the area ring a grassy, treed courtyard which, in spring, is covered in daffodils.
“When you look at it against the sun, it looks like thousands of candles out there,” says Warnier. “But even now (in August) it is beautiful.”
The Beguinage is currently owned by the city which provides housing for the elderly in some of the little houses. Another section is leased to an order of Benedictine nuns.
Warnier concludes his tour here - in a place of reflection. He is clearly proud of Bruges.
“I was born here, I was raised here, I went to school here. I will probably die here … but I’m not in a hurry,” he laughs.
For more information, see websites for Belgium and Bruges.