The big news in Belgium this December is the pitiful levels of sunlight the country has received in the first three weeks of the month. A grand total of 6 hours and 11 minutes. Every minute counts when the numbers are this low. We haven’t had a government for well over six months, but why worry about that when vitamin D is at a premium? A normal Belgian December sees 48 hours and 35 minutes of sunshine. Is 2024 sending us one final message of despair?
I read the news about the lack of sunlight looking out of my office window. It was raining, the grey clouds so low they appeared to be touching the tree tops in the small park across the road. Grey clouds seem to now be a permanent fixture in Brussels. Against this backdrop, I struck weather gold on a day walking on the Flemish coast from De Panne, next to the French border, to Ostend.
It was a glorious winter day, cold but sunny. It would have been perfect but for the strong winds that whipped sand along the beach and blasted anyone in its path. I’d come to the coast to explore the really rather wonderful Beaufort Sculpture Park. Starting in 2003, every three years the Belgian coast plays host to the Beaufort Triennial, a contemporary art installation along the sea walls, beaches and dunes.
Once the triennial finishes the sculptures are removed, but some are bought by local councils and form one of the largest, by distance, sculpture parks on earth. There are currently 42 permanent sculptures dotted along the coastline, with a few more added this year during the 8th edition of the triennial. The route between the two most distant sculptures is over 60km, I did the western half of the route. The eastern portion will have to wait.
Distances between some sculptures can be a few kilometres, others are clustered close together. Some sections of the coast don’t have any sculptures and I caught the tram in places to make the most of the short winter day. The triennial seems to be named for the Beaufort Scale, used as the measure of wind speed, fitting on a day of high winds that were luckily at my back.
Starting in De Panne, I made my way into the dunes to be confronted by Christophorus, the legs and torso of a giant that appears to have just walked out of the ocean and is heading inland. I reached the beach where there is a large archway with stairs that you can climb for views along the front. Oddly, it’s not part of the triennial. I set off east and soon found myself at Touching To Sea You Through Our Extremities.
A gigantic octopus spreads it tentacles over the sand, but after a winter storm it was partially buried in the sand. A short walk away was De Drie Wijsneuzen (The Three Wise Men) of De Panne. As the name suggests, the heads of three men sit on tall columns, like giant sentinels. In the village of Koksijde I found a huge cross, Acqua Scivolo, in honour of the nearby Abbey of Our Lady of the Dunes of Koksijde.
This is a hotspot of sculptures and just along the coast is The Herring, a naked woman holding a fish, Windswept, a tree shaped by the powerful coastal winds, and the half-human half-goat sculpture, The Wanderer. I was soon in Nieuwpoort which is in possession of a clutch of sculptures: the dramatic Men embedded in the beach, Op zoek naar Utopia, Family Module and the green ballerinas of Top Down / Bottom Up.
Between Westende and Middelkerke were some of my favourite sculptures. In I Can Hear It, two giant horns are directed at the sea. A bronze sculpture of a woman presses her ear to one horn to listen to the sea. I passed the bright yellow Olnetop on the way to Caterpillar & Flatbed Trailer, a remarkable ironwork lattice. In Middelkerke is Gazing Ball: Reflective Dialogues, a mirrored sphere reflecting the park in which it sits.
From here it is 6km to the next sculpture Pillage of the Sea, a tower of commodities embedded in the beach and partially submerged at high tide. I took the tram. This is the outskirts of Ostend and I was looking forward to a beer in Den Artiest, but first visited Monument for a Wullok and Rock Strangers. I hadn’t managed to see all of the sculptures on this stretch of coast, but those I did see packed a punch.
Beaufort Sculpture Park is a brilliant concept and a fantastic way to give the Triennial a lasting legacy. Searching out the sculptures is a little like a treasure hunt, I’ll be back to do the eastern part just as soon as the clouds part and we get another sunny day. As the sun set on this day, I made my way to the station and the train back to Brussels.
