I needed a break after packing two giant suitcases with painstaking care. With the finicky Belgian sun popping in and out, I thought I would go crazy indoors, even with the company of Alice and Stefaan hard at work cleaning and painting. Where to go for a 60-minute whirl that satisfies novelty addiction? I'd covered all biking territory in the proximity. Planckendael would have been nice had it not cost 16 €, and likewise for the Speelgoedmuseum had it not cost 6 € (meaning 1 € every 10 minutes). The Spoorwegmuseum De Mijlpal is only open Saturday afternoons, and the MIM was too far for a second spin.
I remembered with a jolt that Wannes had, to my delighted surprise, left the keys to the tower of Onze-Lieve-Vrouw over de Dijle hidden at the organ for me. So up I went... cringing and eek!ing alongside more spiderwebs than all the webs I had seen thus far in my life. "Only a little dusty and dirty" indeed! But the harrowing climb was more than worthwhile. I finally fulfilled my dream of reaching a triforium (not to mention one in a gorgeous church) and found a room in which giant pieces of tower clock faces and old statues missing hands and feet were lit by warm evening light from three stained-glass windows. My camera ran out of batteries at just that Kodak moment.
Finding the carillon was more difficult than I expected. There were many doors and stairways, as well as creepily conversational signs posted by the carillonneur that made me feel as if he was present and watching or as if I was in some permutation of Myst. The stairways were all so drenched in cobwebs that I couldn't tell whether anyone had been there in the last decade; picking out the "well-traveled" route was a matter of judging how impossible it was to pass the cobwebs. At last I found the correct way to the carillon, bursting out into the open and sending hordes of pigeons fluttering and crashing into nets in their panic. The entire bell chamber was a repository of guano hills, but fortunately the cabin was avian- and arachnid-free. Surprising considering that the door wasn't even locked.
In fact, the playing cabin was perfectly clean and homey, decorated by carefully curtained windows and religious items as well as concert posters from the late 80's (one headed by Geert's 1987 recital). The decor made it look rather like a plain housewife's kitchen. The contrast to the stairs just behind the door was unbelievable.
More incredible yet, the instrument was great! The Petit & Fritsen bells sounded good and responded relatively evenly, and you have the use of a low Bb and G, both of which were perfectly in tune! Using that G in the Mendelssohn and Gershwin sent me to heaven. Although the Jef Denyn keyboard was a little disorienting, after playing my first ones in Goes and Ieper (quite the shock when you sit down for a concert at a keyboard which with you have no experience), I adjusted well. Everything worked on it, from Mozart to Thornock--yes, Thornock! The residents of Onze-Lieve-Vrouwestraat heard more carillon in that one insane piece than they had probably heard all summer. I'm definitely revisiting next year--with new camera batteries--in order to prepare for other Denyn-keyboard concerts.
It's regrettable that such a lovely carillon doesn't get played more, that more guests don't get to enjoy it and the beautiful tower (not counting the webs), and that signs of energetic activity since the 80's are scarce. And that the custodian has probably never even stepped foot in the tower. I've seen her using an extra-long stick thing to clean cobwebs as high as the triforium, and the triforium itself is spider-free. So how the stairs can be such a wreck is a puzzle. Nevertheless, I rate this carillon super chouette!
Spelunking in my own backyard. Another reason Europe rocks.
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