I've always enjoyed art, and I enjoy the fact that it can incorporate absolutely anything. I'm actually a fan of more modern art which, although usually doesn't seem to require that much technical skill or representational talent, says something about society - often strong messages. I enjoy the open-endedness of more modern art because I think each viewer takes something different from less determined works of art.
Last weekend pottering about Brussels (and a day trip to Blankenberge on the Belgian coast) wasn't supposed to be arty, and yet after looking through my photos I realised that almost everything I snapped was part of some kind of art display. Interestingly, everything fell into completely different categories of art as well.Take a picnic to the Bois de la Cambre in Uccle, for example. It's a beautiful patch of woodland right in the middle of town, and I actually don't know how big or small it is. Nevertheless, a charming gentleman and I packed cheese and ham sandwiches, strawberries and a flask of tea (quintessentially British, I know) and ambled (in the sweltering city heat) to the cool little oasis of trees. It was a beautiful day, and the light and shadow contrasting and filtering through the leaves was stunning. I've attempted some arty-farty photos and although I love photography I don't think I've quite got the knack of it (above left: bit of tree. above right: gentleman in tunnel).
Ambling out of the urban woods was slightly more upleasant - going back to the hustle and bustle of a steaming capital city after an hour of calm is never that great. It definitely put me in a bad mood - but I've never really been a fan of heat. These guys cheered me up though:
Forgive my photographic failures - if you look closely you can see they're juggling things (sticks? batons? they looked like bowling pins. maybe they were bowling pins.)
What these guys were doing was hanging around on a main artery road in Brussels - one where all the embassies are - and when a light turned red for cars they'd run out and start juggling. They were obviously arty studenty types, probably from the ULB university down the road - and there were loads of them! What a fun thing to do on a hot and sunny day! (Dare I say almost Brightonian!) Although they asked for money they weren't beggars (all too often you see sad-looking limping beggars tapping on car windows and asking for a euro cent. The Belgian's policy on homelessness is horrendeous - no Big Issue scheme here). Anyway, these guys seemed to be doing OK money-wise. There was nothing ominous about what they were doing - and I'm sure the people in the waiting cars enjoyed watching them. I certainly did. I suppose you could call juggling-busking art?
Later on that evening, I and a charming gentleman made our way to the heart of Brussels (muggy-central!) for cherry beer and slim cigarettes. We were waiting for other friendlings in the Grand Place - which is always wonderfully vibrant on summer evenings, with clusters of people sitting on the cobbles smoking, drinking and chatting; parents even bring their little kids to hang out with them until ten or eleven at night - when a dramatic blear of violins stained the air and one of the main buildings of the square lit up. They do this over the summer, every summer: it's called something along the lines of 'Sound and Lights' if I remember correctly, and basically the public get a free light-and-sound display every evening as a main building in the Grand Place is used as a projector screen. It's a lovely performance, especially on a summer night. 
A few beers and cigs later and photos of the counterpart to the infamous Mannekin Pis - the Jannekin Pis, which is tastefully placed down the most touristy side-street of Brussels - were a must. Now that's fine art, if you ask me. You're supposed to drop coins in the puddle beneath her, for love and good luck, obviously. The quirky thing which I find a bit depressing but weirdly endearing about Brusselians (I prefer to avoid the term 'Belgians' as a collective noun) is that their national symbol is a pissing boy (and girl) and they don't mind. Probably because the country's falling apart anyway, so why not poke some fun at it. The Mannekin and Jannekin are definitely not aesthetic feats, but they're still considered art, I think. Perhaps satirical art.
Fast-forward a number of sweaty and uncomfortable hours, and it was time to leave the city for the day. We were headed for Blankenberge, which I'd never heard of - but it's somewhere on the north cost of Belgium (to be honest, when I think 'Belgium' I don't think 'Seaside' - but 'tevs). We had a voucher for 2 euros off the Blankenberge 2010 'Zandsculptuur' Festival and thought, 'yes'. But first a snapshot of a bit of urban art at the station (the station, incidentally, was an inferno. Heat and madness.) Admire the typically Belgian Tintin incorporated in the tag. That's street-cred, if I've ever seen it.
A train and a wander later, we got to the fantastic sand sculpture festival. What technical feats. Just have a look at some of them - we were told that we were absolutely not allowed to touch the sculptures - probably because they were made out of concrete of polystirine and we'd find out if we touched them (LOL @ the non-threatening, tasteful and carefully thought-out warning signs). The exhibition was huge and the works of art were beautifully executed, each cluster representing a different country. So you'd get the standard stuff like Ganesh for India and a Kangaroo for Australia, but also Nokia phones for Finland and Lego for Denmark. As a final thought - I don't think the sand sculptures were my favourite pieces of art I saw over the weekend, despite being the most skillfully executed. Enjoy. 
Images: own
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