This week was my first in Belgium, and last in continental Europe. I’m located right in central Brussels. The city feels like a cultural battleground between Belgium’s larger neighbors. Locals, speaking French, Dutch, English, German, or even Walloon, walk between French boulangeries, German biergartens, and American burger joints serving Belgian fries.
With so much cultural encroachment, what remains Belgian? If you walk towards the tourist hub of downtown Brussels, you might be tempted to answer with Belgian Chocolates, Liege Waffles, Speculoos, or maybe even Brussels sprouts. But just a couple blocks away from the Grand Place, you’ll find my answer: an active tradition of street art.
The art here is unique; it’s got a distinctive comic book style. It makes sense; Brussels was the home of Herge, and birthplace of icons like Tintin and the Smurfs. Its rich comic book tradition has made it into Brussels’ DNA.
Stroll through the city center, and you'll encounter massive murals featuring beloved characters from Belgium's "9th Art." The city’s tourism department has even publicized an official Street Art Trail. This well-curated route takes you through neighborhoods like Marolles and Saint-Gilles, each with its distinct flavor. In Marolles, gritty industrial backgrounds provide contrast to whimsical comics. Saint-Gilles, with its trendy cafes and boutiques, showcases more experimental works that blend comic aesthetics with abstract elements.
I found a fella working on a piece, and I was curious. I asked him how he picked where to create his art. “Well,” he told me, “This is the only legal wall on this block.”
Legal walls? For some reason, I always thought street art was counterculture - done by young teens in punk hoodies, in the dead of night. Instead, the guy in front of me was middle-aged, portly, and working sedately in the bright afternoon.
Apparently, street art is now far from counterculture; it’s an institution. Brussels designates “legal walls” for street art; includes it in its urban planning and art festivals. Much art is now, apparently, by commission; local businesses have transformed dull facades into Instagrammable backdrops.
I’m sure some purists will feel sickened; how can such a free-flowing, grassroots, practice be co-opted by the insidious forces of capital? But on the other hand, that capital funds more and grander works. And unlike the ephemeral nature of street art in many cities, the work sticks around.
Here, there's a growing movement here to protect significant works. It's a delicate balancing act—maintaining the dynamic, ever-changing nature of street art while preserving pieces that have become part of the city's cultural fabric. They’ve settled on a slow-moving rotation schedule; each wall might be refreshed every couple years.
So if you find yourself in Brussels, venture beyond the Grand Place and the Atomium. Take a walk through Brussels' open-air galleries, where the city itself is a comic strip.
Cheers and thanks for the read!
Next week, I’m off to Scotland!