Big Elephant Loves Small Children
Dec. 10th, 2006 11:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
franceslievensThere was an elephant at the museum, and hundreds of kids. They took the museum outside, on the streets, and I was there to witness it all.
Le palais des beaux arts is an undefinable place in the middle of Brussels. It isn't a museum, nor is it a theatre or a concert hall. But it houses the concert hall with the best acoustics of Belgium, and in the different rooms there is place for exhibitions on very diverse subjects. This building, designed by Horta, is a palace made to bring the arts to the big public. With the current India festival Bozar is luring that audience back in.
It opened its doors for families this weekend, and what an opening it was. The only thing I actively sought out to see, was the India parade: 200 kids singing and dancing in the nearby Galleries Ravenstein. They were evoking stories from Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories.
Searching for where I had to be I strolled into the Palais itself to be met by a foul stench, and a very large, grey animal. Just for a second I thought it was a fake, but then I noticed the trunk of the elephant moving towards the nearby children. There actualy was a real live elephant standing in the museum. I thought it was lost and had entered the building to ask for directions, but then I noticed someone standing beside it. And all was good again in the world: This elephant did indeed have a master.
Still having no clue where to go to, I wandered outside again. I had noticed a lot of people standing at the galleries across the street. There I found it: The place to be. Here would soon start a parade of stories.
Unfortunately, understanding the stories was asking too much of this idiot. I couldn't grasp one thing of what the kids were saying or singing. The acoustics aren't very good in a gallerie with shops around, but the images were superb. Every group of kids wore matching outfits: an Indian tunik with trousers in the same colour. The audience, standing on galleries above the scene, saw colours intermingling, hand gestures, and kids generaly enjoying themselves. India mingled with Brussels: children speaking French, Dutch, and evoking sounds that were close to Hindi. The little orchestra that provided the musical background for the dances featured a sitar player, but also a flute and a clarinet. What a sweet touch of exoticism on a Sunday afternoon!
Le palais des beaux arts is an undefinable place in the middle of Brussels. It isn't a museum, nor is it a theatre or a concert hall. But it houses the concert hall with the best acoustics of Belgium, and in the different rooms there is place for exhibitions on very diverse subjects. This building, designed by Horta, is a palace made to bring the arts to the big public. With the current India festival Bozar is luring that audience back in.
It opened its doors for families this weekend, and what an opening it was. The only thing I actively sought out to see, was the India parade: 200 kids singing and dancing in the nearby Galleries Ravenstein. They were evoking stories from Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories.
Searching for where I had to be I strolled into the Palais itself to be met by a foul stench, and a very large, grey animal. Just for a second I thought it was a fake, but then I noticed the trunk of the elephant moving towards the nearby children. There actualy was a real live elephant standing in the museum. I thought it was lost and had entered the building to ask for directions, but then I noticed someone standing beside it. And all was good again in the world: This elephant did indeed have a master.
Still having no clue where to go to, I wandered outside again. I had noticed a lot of people standing at the galleries across the street. There I found it: The place to be. Here would soon start a parade of stories.
Unfortunately, understanding the stories was asking too much of this idiot. I couldn't grasp one thing of what the kids were saying or singing. The acoustics aren't very good in a gallerie with shops around, but the images were superb. Every group of kids wore matching outfits: an Indian tunik with trousers in the same colour. The audience, standing on galleries above the scene, saw colours intermingling, hand gestures, and kids generaly enjoying themselves. India mingled with Brussels: children speaking French, Dutch, and evoking sounds that were close to Hindi. The little orchestra that provided the musical background for the dances featured a sitar player, but also a flute and a clarinet. What a sweet touch of exoticism on a Sunday afternoon!
