Holy…
Last weekend I had a revelatory, I would even say near religious experience. I had been flicking through the “Agenda” magazine (which I often pick up but rarely look through, shamefully) and came across something interesting. There was going to be a club night in the “Gésu” church (with DJ Hell playing, how appropriate), and probably for the last time, as this venue is due for a redevelopment (into a hotel…) and so as this sounded rather special I let some friends know about it, and although I had no idea what it would be like and therefore couldn’t really recommend it, I was still surprised only to convince one to come along. But along we went, not sure what to expect, and after waiting in a long, snaking line, we entered. In typical Brussels fashion, the entrance was an innocuous door squashed into a corner between two buildings, the church itself not even visible. So far, so Brussels. We paid for our entry, wandered through a short corridor, around a corner, gradually getting darker, and then…
And then…our eyes momentarily looked directly ahead, as if still walking through the corridor, but as we moved forward they met the base of a huge stone column of the church, illuminated in red. As we walked forward slowly our eyes rose to follow this column, and rose further, and when reaching their limit, our heads tilting backwards, as we began to take in the interior of this very tall, narrow church, lit dramatically from below. Wow. I have seen some impressive venues, but this blew all the others away. It’s actually difficult to describe this feeling in words, and even seems a little cheap to even try to do so, but it’s all I can manage in order to try to communicate what was actually a very quiet, very memorable moment. I am not religious, but there is no denying the skill some churches, such as this one have in leaving a lasting impression. With the presumed collapse of belief itself, and thereby the local congregation, a deconsecrated church has become transformed into something extraordinary, and i would argue with a purpose which even perversely respects it’s past function, and moreover reflects our society today, something which fortunately neither sentiment nor conservatism rarely manage to halt. Happily, from an architectural point of view, anything placed within the church was quite temporary, standing loose on top of the beautiful stone floor.
So, what more to say, it was a fantastic evening, even though the pulsing sounds of the sound system were hopelessly lost within the cavernous height of the church, reverberation after reverberation bouncing and mixing into each other. This didn’t stop people from moving, and I would even use the word “rejoicing” in the moment.
The next day I looked up previous events at the church and saw that it has previously been even more extravagantly lit, in a quite incredible fashion even, with videos showing the lighting flowing around the columns. I also discovered that there would in fact be one more event at the church, and so this weekend I much more easily convinced around ten other friends to go, and very happily they all shared my enthusiasm and wonder at this special, perhaps one-time experience. They expressed disbelief that it was going to be turned into a Hotel (apparently the church will only house the swimming pool and bar) and indeed it seems a little regretful that such a place will lose itself to what is often a very controlled and essentially private use. The church could have been used for much else than just night clubs; indoor markets, meetings, lectures, etc. But I do not know the details of the situation, and what will really happen to the place.
I just thank those who once built this church with such skill and belief, as it continues even now to give great emotion and experience to people. And I once again am a little bit astonished by Brussels, realising that just as I was beginning to feel that I knew it, there are more things to discover.
That moment, entering the church
In the mix
