Welcome to Hand Toss, Belgium!

Antwerp, Belgium

This is a very pretty town, and this despite the fact that the weather is horrible. Prof. Sherridan once again shows an energy and general level of intellecual curiosity that I find amazing. Why is he spending a Saturday (and Sunday) with students is beyond me, but I appreciate it tremendously. And why other people feel compelled to imagine a pathetic existence for this otherwise challenging and interesting guy is also beyond me. I do admit that some of his behaviour puzzles me. It’s like he’s trying to maintain a distance between himself and us, despite the fact that he’s making himself more available than any of us could possibly expect.

So, here's a little interesting tidbit, or maybe this kind of stuff is only interesting to me. From Wikipedia:

According to folklore, the city got its name from a legend involving a mythical giant called Antigoon that lived near the river Scheldt. This giant exacted a toll from passers-by who wished to navigate the river. On refusal, the giant often severed one of their hands and threw them into the Scheldt. Eventually, the giant was slain by a young hero named Brabo, who cut off the giant's hand and threw it into the river. Hence the name Antwerpen from Dutch Hand werpen (hand-throwing). There's a statue of Brabo and the slain Antigoon on the Grote Markt in front of the town hall as can be seen on the picture of the Antwerp Stadhuis above. In addition you are apt to come across sculptures of hands in various sizes and forms throughout the city, and hand-shaped cookies can be bought in any chocolate shop.

So there's the explanation for the post's title. There's also a clever little reference to a little-known English euphemism hidden in there, but I'll let it go unstated.

The tour begins at the train station, where the diamond district is centered. This section of town, though usually teeming with people, is empty today. The diamond trade is chiefly dominated by the local hasidic Jew community, and today is the Sabbath—their day off. Nevertheless, walking down these streets, one hardly gets the impression that nearly 80% of the world’s diamonds go through these buildings. Below our feet, we are told, are vaults and vaults of diamonds. But the streets are lined with unpretentious and unimposing buildings, the only common trait being the various depictions of diamonds, and the streets are lined with nothing but modest cars. Clearly, this community doesn’t believe in being ostentatious. I can’t help but to think back to that Wired article on artificial diamonds. What wil happen to this market when fake—and cheap—diamonds hit the world markets? Personally, I don’t feel too bad about it. Diamonds are behind so many well-entrenched and pretentious traditions that I can’t bear the thought of having to cow to them sometime in the future. This is simply an empire of bullsh*t, and I can’t wait for it all to come tumbling down. But I digress.

Continuing along the main strip, Prof. Sherridan tells us about Reubens and points out his former redidence and workshop. Reubens produced thousands of paintings in his workshop, most obviously not having been fully fleshed out by his own hand but rather by a team of disciples. The concept of Reubens as a “brand” is somewhat unsettling, though it shouldn’t really come as a surprise. But we are about to be treated to a great example of his brilliance: the triptychs he painted for the cathedral.

We move on, passing by the first “skyscraper” in Belgium, a modest tower apparently modeled after the Empire State Building, on our way to the cathedral This gothic structure is marvelous (and sports yet another clock courtesy of Napoleon). Gothic architecture, as with many other forms of art, was politically-charged in its intentions. Everything about the interior of this church is meant to convey the message that Jesus is “up there” and that you are “down here”. It is a glorification of Jesus’ divinity, and despite the fact that the walls have lost their former intricate frescoes, the sheer upward thrust of the main transept is impressive.

The highlight is definitely Reubens’ “Raising of the Cross”. Again, Prof. Sherridan communicates an excitement for discovery that is contagious. He’s clearly enthralled by the intricate symbols and stories behind these works of art, and he manages to spark everyone’s interest, even of only for a moment.

The rest of the visit takes us through a heighbourhood that was rebuilt after Antwerp was heavily damaged in the second World War, and to the port by the river Schelde. From here, we part ways with Prof. Sherridan, and we are left to enjoy the city on our own.

The highlight of the rest of the day is definitely the restaurant (‘t Hofke) we stumbled upon. Along with Mike Queally, Jamin and Sarah Andrews, I enjoyed a splendid meal with surprising table mates.

From there, we were picked up by the rest of the crew and spent the evening in a local bar with the crew, followed by a return home on the late train. That I would one day deem spending the whole evening sampling beers in a smokey bar the right way to enjoy a visit in a new and splendid town like Antwerp is more than a little disturbing. Meh. Just go along with it.