Cordula Monument
“Our time is not one in which everything strives to timeless permanence. This is not a time of lavish squares and rugged castles and a refined aristocracy, which can be depicted in self-confident monuments. The questions about the past are being pushed aside by contemporary urban dynamics, by a wealth of conflicts. In a city, one can not calmly dream off into timeless oblivion.”*
Zoersel is not a town, but it has a castle, Halle Castle. The name sounds like an impressive remnant of medieval times, which has placed the site on the map for ever. It is understandable that this Belgian community feels itself blessed with its castle. Historical facts ensure stability and tranquillity. A rich history can afford to let the present pass by smoothly; a convenient alternative for the frenzy of modern existence.
Castles belong to an era in which the aristocracy ruled supreme. They represent the power in the shade of which the people are cast as extras. Today, however, the local residents of Zoersel are not the least impressed, now that politicians have settled at Halle Castle as if to revive the elite centre of authority.
The castle has become the town hall and the surrounding domain a public park. The historic tensions between the ruler and the people have been fossilised into an amiable status quo.
Apart from the odd rare tree or bird, the park surrounding the castle is no more than a green spot for Sunday afternoons. No homeless, even gays don’t care to amble there. Although far from being the perfect place to bring the mind in concord with nature, the local folk are content with it.
The park’s art as well excels in cosiness. “It doesn’t ever place itself in relation to current events and thereby becomes a mirror image of the surrounding green. It is freed from the urban dynamics and blends seemingly without effort with a timeless paradise.”* The art matches the park’s false suggestion of reflecting the ideal relationship between man and nature with its own lie: the ideal to be uplifted above the worldly turmoil into a paradisaical beauty.
The question arises whether the green’s lie and therefore that of the art should be unmasked? Or should both better be left intact, in order to keep the peace? One can even ask whether the lie may be disturbed at all! After some investigation, it became clear to me that the Zoersel locals don’t feel for such disturbance anyway. My artwork, therefore, is a ‘white lie’.
On an islet in the castle’s pond there is a neglected little monument of which no-one has succeeded in disclosing either origination nor meaning. No historian has been able to determine what purpose it served. It can hardly be seen and not be reached on foot.
Involuntarily, visitors of the park walk into a conversation with an old man on a bench near the water, who offers to row them over in order to take a closer look at the monument. His life has been revolving around a past event, which has occasioned the monument.
The man, named Jan Kiekens, tells the story of his grandmother to whomever wants to hear it. It is his tragedy that the people are forgetful and the monument has fallen into decay. His goal, to do justice to history and keep it alive. There is nothing he would rather have than knowing that the legend of Cordula will live on in the history of Halle after he has passed away.
Not that anyone in Zoersel will care much about it, but it will contribute to the tranquillity. Zoersel as an explicit antithesis of urban life, functioning as detached and timeless as in paradisaical eternity.
Source: Hans van Houwelingen, Concept Cordula Monument, Amsterdam 27-4-1999
*Quotes: Philip Peters, Museumjournaal, nr 1, 1990.
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