A few months ago
I gave a tour to a respectable Indian couple living in the US.
He was a CEO,
she was a doctor.
They wanted me to show them as much as possible
during a two-hour tour.
So I did.
I remember them very well.
It was a sunny afternoon.
I took them over the Sint-Michiels Bridge,
along the harbor,
up to the castle.
We crossed the Vrijdagmarkt.
We tasted chocolate.
We even spoke with Gentenaren.
And yes, he asked thousands of questions
and she took thousands of photos.
Everything went smoothly, until we came to the cathedral.
“Should we really visit this, Kristel?” He said.
“Churches are not really our thing, you have to know.”
“Well,” I said, “you do not have to,
but did you know that this is the place
where you can see the world-famous Lamb of God?
You should not miss this in Ghent! “
They looked at each other.
I saw that they had no idea what the Lamb of God is about,
but more,
they were concerned that the visit would take too much time.
But look, I could convince them anyway.
And there we were,
in the dark chapel,
for the gigantic Lamb of God.
It was painted by van Eyck,
‘van Ike’ in English,
some 500 years ago.
I saw that they were impressed
and so I briefly told them something about the symbolism, the technique
and the beautiful details that Van Eyck is known for.
“Kristel, can we take a photo?”
“I’m afraid,” I said,
“But do you know what?
Take your time – as much as you want –
and I’ll wait for you outside. “
When they finally came out,
their whole attitude was different:
he was lost in thought,
with his arm around her shoulders
and she had tears in her eyes.
“Thank you for bringing us here,” she said through her tears.
“It all came back, you know.
We thought we had processed it, but now … here … “
And then they trusted me
how they had lost their child the year before.
You can imagine that the rest of the tour was different.
They were more open,
relaxer,
more connected;
they were a couple.
What I actually want to say,
is that that change was visible.
She was substantial
and she was real.
And I wonder if this would have happened
if the Lamb of God would have hung in a museum.
I do not know how you see it,
but if I go to medieval rooms in museums around the world,
then it always amazes me how few visitors attract them.
I took a picture.
What you see here is the medieval room of the museum in Princeton,
but it might as well have been a different museum,
because it is always a collection of excellent, unique pieces
that clearly belong in a specific place,
as is the case with most medieval art, by the way.
It seems like the artwork, once detached from its place,
loses its appeal,
its inspirational value,
his soul.
Believe it or not,
that same terrible fate awaited the Lamb of God,
all the more because it gets a very expensive restoration.
Some Ghent policy makers proposed
that we had to make a special museum for it.
You can imagine how much I was in shock,
but also how happy I was when I heard that the tide is turned
and that one has decided
that the Lamb of God will stay in the cathedral,
anyway.
And that money, time and effort are invested
to put it even better.
That is good news for you,
because now you can, like the Indian couple,
to fully enjoy its strength,
its inspirational value
and his soul.
The key question is of course:
can places have a soul?
Now take the cathedral.
For more than a thousand years
it is a place where people mourn, pray, celebrate.
Is this cathedral nothing else
then a few minor, albeit beautiful and impressive square meters?
Or is the comfort, the inspiration and the reflection
that people clearly experience
as real as the ancient stones with which it was built?
And if so, what is its value?
What is the value of a square meter of soul?
You know, when I walk from my flat to my office,
I often take a road through the cathedral.
I always go inside the green wooden door on the side
and I’m going outside the main entrance.
I used to be in a hurry,
with my laptop in one hand and my smartphone in the other.
But one day I slowed down my card and sat down for a minute.
I looked up
and let my thoughts run free.
When I arrived at the office afterwards,
I felt that those few minutes had really made me stronger,
grounded and relaxed.
And it turned out to be the perfect morning work-out.
I am sure that each of you knows such places.
It does not have to be a religious place,
it can be any place that attracts you intuitively.
You know, those places that just have something.
It can be a bank in the park you like to read,
or such a typical old cafe where people, sometimes for generations,
agree with each other.
Or those small, iconic shops in the city,
where you step inside and immediately smell its history.
That kind of places –
the places that feel good.
Those places are valuable.
Those places are the heart and soul of a city,
and yet we all too often take them for granted.
As is usually the case with valuable things,
we realize their value only when we threaten to lose them:
the day you discover that your favorite place was being destroyed
or converted into something that is not at all.
Let me take you to a favorite meeting place in Ghent:
the Gras- and Korenlei.
This was a medieval port from around the 12th century,
and the place has everything that a port brings with it:
restaurants, shops, cafes.
Imagine the boats that were loaded and unloaded here.
And everything went well until the sixties,
because then we dug a huge canal around Ghent
that made this port redundant.
So our policymakers were pondering, and pondering, and pondering,
and the most creative thing they could think of was this:
a parking lot
where no living soul could be detected.
Fortunately for us, we came back to our minds in the nineties
and we gave it back its original function,
albeit only as a port for pleasure boats.
I remember very well that once the renovations were finished,
everyone suddenly noticed the potential of the Gras- en Korenlei:
everyone wanted to be there, you know?
And so it is today.
As soon as we ended up right in the soul of that place,
it became the hotspot that it still is in Ghent.
Now the Gras- and Korenlei is a wonderful conversion,
because we not only invested time, money and effort
in the restoration of the medieval decor,
but also in restoring the original function.
But it is not always that way.
And yet,
conversions of places are very difficult,
but they are trendyer than ever.
In that context, I want to show you a photo
I made last week in a beautiful 16th century chapel,
here in Ghent.
As you can see, she has been converted into a trendy bar.
And as you can see further,
a lot of time and money has been invested in the original features:
the Gothic windows, the tiles, the pillars.
But, there was no investment in restoring the original function.
The original function could not differ much from the current function:
a reflection place versus a place to drink.
No matter how much I love cafés
after all, I am a Belgian –
if a renovation only focuses on the restoration of the building
and does not completely harmonize with the original function,
then there will be …
then it will not fully exploit its potential.
You will always feel that something is not quite right.
And what’s worse,
over time
The new function absorbs the soul of that place completely,
until that – when the trend is over – is completely empty again
and new investors have to be found.
Now I hear you thinking:
but Kristel, what should we do with such places?
We can not leave them empty, right?
Well, the most relevant question for me is:
is this place really empty?
Let me take you to an empty, very inspiring place in Ghent:
the Sint-Baafsabdij.
More than 1,000 years old
and outside the beautiful refectory
and a well and an enclosed garden
there is nothing.
No heating, no facilities, no electricity.
Only stones and a suit, a soul.
I love to take people there, really,
because that place never disappoints me.
It always has its effect, whether we are ready or not.
One day I took a young, enthusiastic, loud group of marketers to there.
They expected a team building,
so you can imagine their face when we arrived at the abandoned abbey.
But they tried to stay positive and I challenged them:
“Can you walk around here on your own for three minutes?”
“Hey, of course we can!”
And there they went.
And gradually but surely
the peaceful peace descended again over the abbey.
Three minutes were five minutes.
Ten minutes later, ten and more,
and when they finally came back,
everything was different to them.
They were quieter, more relaxed.
They were also more noticeable to each other
and I noticed that their topic of conversation had changed.
It was no longer about their work;
it was about themselves,
their wishes and desires,
their dreams.
And the most important thing was, at least for me, that they insured me
that one day they would return to this place.
And that is the value of a square meter of soul.
Places can be very inspiring,
very powerful, valuable,
but they can not speak.
You can.
And I can do that too.
And that is why I want to say the following to all policymakers around the world:
Be aware of the inspiring and valuable places
that you have in your neighborhood, your village and your city.
Because they are the heart and soul of it.
Look beyond that square meter;
see the soul.
And once you see that,
make sure you do everything possible to preserve and protect it.
And if a place falls into disuse and becomes empty,
ask yourself if it is really empty.
And if he is not – if he has a lot of soul –
then have the courage to invest in the soul
and future generations will thank you for that.
And if there is no other option than to choose a redesignation,
do not go for the compromise,
but make sure the reallocation harmonises with the original function,
because that is the only way that will pay.
Of course I also have a message
for my fellow guides around the world.
I want to say this, from the bottom of my heart:
Keep taking your customers
to the places that you appreciate, wherever you live.
Take them there, but once you’re there –
and I know this is very difficult for guides,
because we always want to talk –
then build some silence and space into your tour,
so that your customers can really experience a place and enjoy it.
And finally, I want to say this to all of you:
Keep going to those places that attract you intuitively.
Jump in once.
And if you are there,
really be there, fully.
Listen to that place, to what it has to offer you.
Let him feed your soul,
be aware of its value.
And above all, I hope that you all get inspired
by every square meter of soul.
(Applause)
”
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