Nov

“Blistering Blue Brussels, Tintin!”

by Joyce McGreevy on November 6, 2017

The Tintin mural in Brussels, Belgium showcases comic book art as a cultural tradition. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Hugely popular in Belgium, Tintin and friends race down a wall in Brussels’ Rue de l’Etuve.
© Joyce McGreevy

Where Comic Books Are
a Cultural Tradition

Remember watching Saturday morning cartoons and reading Sunday’s comic strips? Settling in to reread stockpiled comic books? And how your parents—those draconian disciplinarians—made you go outside to play?

In Brussels, you can have your comics and play outside, too. Just follow the Comic Book Route.

The Léonard mural by Turk in Brussels shows why comic books are a cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Léonard, a zany caricature of da Vinci by cartoonist “Turk,”
paints Brussels’ Palais de Justice.
© Joyce McGreevy

Launched in 1991, this citywide project turns buildings into comic-book panels to celebrate one of Belgium’s most popular cultural traditions—l’art de la bande dessinée, the art of the comic strip.

A mural of Francis Carin's "Victor Sackville" in Brussels shows why comic books are a cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Meticulous cartoonist Francis Carin, creator of spy hero Victor Sackville,
is known as Belgium’s “tour guide to history.”
© Joyce McGreevy

Picturing Brussels

Brussels features 55 murals and counting. Centering your sightseeing around comics is a wonderful way to explore the city.

A mural of Frank Pé's "Broussaille" in Brussels shows why comic books are a cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

In Frank Pé’s “Broussaille,” even background details (inset) get star treatment.
© Joyce McGreevy

The Ninth Art

Belgium boasts more comic strip artists per square kilometer than anywhere else in Europe. It’s here that the comic strip grew from a popular medium into le neuvème art, “the ninth art.”

“In most Belgian homes, you will find a collection of comics or even an entire library dedicated to comic strips. More than half of the books published or produced in Belgium are comics.” So says Jean Auquier, director of the Belgian Comic Strip Center, Centre Belge de la Bande Dessinée.

There’s a comic book museum? Actually, there are several. “Nowhere else are comics so strongly rooted in reality and in people’s imagination.”

The Belgian Comic Strip Center in Brussels showcases comic books as a cultural tradition. (Image © www.visitbrussels.be and Daniel Fouss)

The Belgian Comic Strip Center is housed in Art Nouveau architecture.
© www.visitbrussels.be and Daniel Fouss

Belgium’s Comic-Book Legacy

Some Belgian comic-book characters are famous worldwide. As a kid, you likely spent Saturdays with Les Schtroumpfs, as Franco-Belgians call them, De Smurfen in Flemish. That’s “Smurfs” to you and me. Cartoonist Peyo (Pierre Culliford) invented the little blue characters after coining the word schtroumpf as a joke and sprinkling variations of it into conversations.

A group of children intently reading comic books at the Belgian Comic Strip Center show why comic books are a popular cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © www.visitbrussels.be and Daniel Fouss)

What, no comic book for the Smurf?
© www.visitbrussels.be and Daniel Fouss

Belgium’s Boy Wonder

First, however, came Tintin, globe-trotting reporter, faithful dog Milou (“Snowy”) and brash Captain Haddock—he of tongue-twisting epithets like “Blistering blue barnacles!” and “Ten thousand thundering typhoons!”

Created by Hergé (Georges Remi), whose tumultuous life merits its own graphic novel, Tintin comics (1920s–1980s) influenced generations of cartoonists with their lignes claires (“clear lines”) and innovative use of speech balloons—previously, cartoonists kept text beneath the drawings.

A window at the Belgian Comic Strip Center showcases the comic-book art as a cultural tradition. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The Adventures of Tintin (Kuifje in Flemish) have been
translated into 80 languages.
© Joyce McGreevy

Beyond Europe, Hergé influenced artists like Andy Warhol and Roy Liechtenstein and filmmaker Steven Spielberg. He was also honored by the Dalai Lama for his 1960 work, Tintin in Tibet.

Paper Heroes

Brussels Comic Book Route will inspire you to get to know other Belgian héros de papier, too.

A mural of Hergé's Quick and Flupke in Brussels shows why comic books are a popular cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The adventures of Hergé’s “other sons,” characters Quick and Flupke,
take place in the Marolles, where Hergé grew up.
© Joyce McGreevy

Where to Begin?

Because you’re never far from public transportation, I recommend starting wherever you are. Use the museum’s interactive online map to locate clusters of nearby murals.

A mural of Yves Chaland’s comic-book character, Le Jeune Albert, in Brussels shows why comic books are a popular cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Yves Chaland’s comic-book character, Le Jeune Albert,
is himself deeply engrossed in a comic book.
© Joyce McGreevy

My base is L’Art de la Fugue, in the St. Gilles neighborhood, an inexpensive B&B with—aptly—visually dazzling rooms, each unique. Like a cartoon detective, I begin my mystery tour by seeking out the proverbial Fat Cat:

A mural of Philippe Geluck's "Le Chat" in Brussels shows why comic-book art is a popular cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Philippe Geluck’s “Le Chat” series delights in perplexing readers.
© Joyce McGreevy

The trail winds through the heart of the Marolles, one of the city’s oldest neighborhoods, where streets are lined with vintage shops. Like comic-book panels, the neighborhood reveals itself one fascinating window at a time.

A vintage figurine in a Brussels inspires comparisons with Belgian comic-book art as a cultural tradition. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A window on Rue Blaes reflects a spirited image of Brussels.
© Joyce McGreevy

Likewise, everyday sights seem to imitate comic art, evoking the seductions of a great story.

A street scene in Brussels, with yellow motorbike and "L'Etoile Verte" sign, inspires ideas for comic-book art, a cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A street scene in Brussels (above) inspires comic-book daydreams (below).
© Joyce McGreevy

Walking Through Pictures

By moseying from one mural to another, I cover a wide swath of Brussels on foot. The search for comic-book murals reveals other urban pleasures, too. Like comic-book motion lines, the aromas of coffee and fresh-baked bread lead to wonderful cafés, places filled with locals, where visitors find a warm welcome.

A street scene in Brussels, featuring Café L'Aubette, inspires ideas for comic-book art, a cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

There’s visual inspiration on every corner.
© Joyce McGreevy

Turning a corner becomes like turning a page. Mural by mural, I’m guided from one facet of the city to another—peaceful gardens, bustling market squares, centers of cutting-edge design, and places of gilded baroque magnificence.

At one point, I encounter a glass elevator that lifts me high above red-tiled rooftops to panoramic views from the Palais de Justice.

A mural in Brussels of François Schuiten and Benoît Peeters' "The Passage" shows why comic books are a cultural tradition in Belgium,. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A couple stands beside François Schuiten and Benoît Peeters’ “The Passage,”
unaware of their cartoon shadows (inset).
© Joyce McGreevy

All day I follow the visual narrative. The passing hours play with the autumn sunlight like a cartoonist experimenting with background colors: slate grey dawn becomes morning’s pale gold, then afternoon’s bonus blue. With so many comic-book heroes watching over Brussels, can sunset be anything but rosy?

Finally, as darkness inks in the sky, the city’s windows begin to glow, like panels in a graphic novel.

A café window in Brussels inspires ideas for comic-book art, a cultural tradition in Belgium. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

When life imitates Belgian comic-book art…
© Joyce McGreevy

Oh, I see: In the comic-book city, where the cartoonist’s art is a cultural tradition, Brussels has ever more stories to tell.

View a map of Brussels’ Comic Book Route here and see a mural being created here. See more street art in London here, on top of gum globs here, and at the Tour 13 project in Paris here.

Comment on this post below.

Joyce McGreevy 2 Comments

Belgium/Cultural Heritage & Traditions/On Foot/The World's Art & Design

Oct

Traveling the World in Search of Weird Animals

by Meredith Mullins on October 30, 2017

Demonic eyes from one the weird animals found while traveling the world. (Image © Bastetamn/iStock.)

A parade of the weirdest Halloween animals
© Bastetamn/iStock

Creatures Destined for Halloween Fame

It all started with a Jerboa sighting . . .

This desert hopping rodent recently won the heart of the internet (and my heart as well). More cute than scary, Jerboas inspired me to expand my fauna horizons and begin virtually traveling the world in search of weird animals. And, apropos to the season, the results are creative fodder for last-minute Halloween costumes.

Four-toed jerboa, one of the weird animals found while traveling the world. (Image © Reptiles4all/iStock.)

The Jerboa—Who designed this fella?
© Reptiles4all/iStock

The Jerboa—An Experiment in Mix ‘n Match

Long-eared Jerboas are such a mixture of parts, it’s as if they were drawn by a halluncinatory cartoonist. A rat head, cat whiskers, owl eyes, jackrabbit ears, kangaroo back legs, prairie dog front legs, and an oddly long tail.

They are found in Asian and African deserts. When fleeing from predators (or hurrying to an appointment), the Jerboa leaps and lands and leaps and lands (up to 10 feet with each hop), with kangaroo precision, appearing to be flying. You can almost see the cartoonist’s words floating above—Boing! Boing!

I thought not much could be weirder than the Jerboa, but I kept searching.

Tarsier, one of the weird animals found while traveling the world. (Image © Haveseen/iStock.)

The Tarsier—Does it remind you of anyone?
© Haveseen/iStock

The Tarsier—The Eyes Have It

This wide-eyed, tiny primate is, like the Jerboa, more cute than scary. It’s also a jumper and can jump more than 40 times its body length.

The Tarsier is found in the forests of Malaysian, Indonesian, and Philippine islands. It has the distinction of being able to turn its head 180 degrees in each direction—a truly all-seeing creature.

Does it remind you of anyone? (Hint: Star Wars)

While some say Yoda was based on Albert Einstein or was born directly from the creator’s imagination, the similarities between the Jedi master and the Tarsier have sparked some interesting discussions.

A Wolffish, one of the weird animals found while traveling the world. (Image © Paylessimages/iStock.)

The Wolffish—What big teeth you have, my dear.
© Paylessimages/iStock

The Atlantic Wolffish—A Fish with a Fang

There’s something about a fish with teeth that’s a bit disconcerting, especially one with fangs.

The Wolffish, sometimes called a devil fish or seawolf, looks ferocious with its large canines, powerful jaws, and thick eel-like body.

It is an aggressive predator, with a particular penchant for crunchy invertebrates such as sea urchins, shellfish, and crustaceans.

Wolffish don’t get out much. They keep to themselves in rocky cracks and crevices primarily in the cold water of the North Atlantic. The good news: they are so shy, they rarely take a bite out of a human.

King vulture, one of the weird animals found while traveling the world. (Image © Miroslav1/iStock.)

The King Vulture—All the finery of royalty
© Miroslav1/iStock

The King Vulture—Look Out Las Vegas

Let’s move from scary to showy.

The King Vulture looks like a Vegas showbird, with piercing red-ringed eyes and all the flash and color that might appear at the festivals of their habitat in Central and South America. Their face looks as if it’s adorned with an array of military braided cord as well as other striking splats of color.

They are the ultimate scavengers in their tropical lowland forests, and are called King because their size allows them to win a territorial fight over other, lesser, vultures.

In Mayan mythology, King Vultures often carried messages between humans and gods, a fitting task as they can soar for hours on air currents with very little effort.

Aye-aye, nocturnal lemur, one of the weird animals found while traveling the world (Image © Javaman3/iStock.)

The Aye-aye—Wide-eyed and witch-fingered
© Javaman3/iStock

The Aye Aye—Just Another Wide-Eyed Weirdo with Witch-Like Fingers

The Aye Aye lemur from Madagascar just begs for jokes about its name.

Knock. Knock.
Who’s there?
Aye Aye.
Aye Aye Who?
Aye Yai Yai Yai Yai. Will you stop with the knock knock jokes. (Bad lemur joke)

Aye Aye look cute and cuddly, but they are actually the world’s largest nocturnal primate. When they’re full-grown, they are around three feet in length, including their long tail.

They spend most of their time in the upper canopy of the forest—eating, sleeping, traveling, and mating in tree tops.

A knock knock joke is not completely out of line since they use their extra long 3^rd and 4th fingers to tap on trees to look for grubs and then extract them (a technique called percussive foraging).

They are endangered, primarily because the local people believe that an Aye Aye sighting will lead to the death of a villager. They also believe that the only response is to kill the animal as quickly as possible.

Hairy frogfish, one of the weird animals found while traveling the world. (Image © Atese/iStock.)

The Hairy Frogfish—Watch out for the big gulp.
© Atese/iStock

The Hairy Frogfish—A Fish that Fishes

One minute, the Hairy Frogfish looks like a sea monster having a bad hair day and the next it looks exactly like an ocean sponge or drifting seaweed near a coral reef. These pom-pom-like, spikey-haired creatures are masters of camouflage.

Hairy Frogfish are found in tropical and subtropical waters around the world. They are voracious carnivores, eating everything and anything that comes within reach of their lightening mouth. Size doesn’t matter. They’ll eat fish even bigger than they are. They will even eat one of their own.

Oddly, they don’t much like to swim. They use their fins like legs to amble along the ocean floor, looking a bit like prehistoric dinosaurs thundering through a forest. You can almost feel the ocean floor shake.

They plant themselves in a prime feeding location and dangle their built-in wormlike lure to attract innocent passersby. Then . . . the big gulp, one of the fastest strikes of any animal on earth.

If this video does not display, watch it here.

A Parade of Weirdos

Traveling the world in search of weird animals yields an endless supply of fascinating creatures. The “Oh, I see” moments come quickly as we marvel at the range of animal life on our great planet . . . and the wonderful ways the strangest species adapt and survive.

Are they creepy or cute? You be the judge.

And, on a Halloween note, which one of these peculiar creatures will inspire your Halloween costume?

Knock. Knock.

Who’s there?

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Meredith Mullins 2 Comments

Nature Discovery/Worldwide Sites

Oct

The Egg and “Ei”

by Joyce McGreevy on October 24, 2017

When four teenagers and a writer, Joyce McGreevy, meet in the Volksgarten, Vienna, Austria, they share the fun of speaking two languages. Image © Joyce McGreevy

Finding our voices in Vienna: Catrina, Cedric, the author, Nicky, and Adah. (Oh, and “Albert.”)
© Joyce McGreevy

What Four Viennese Teens Taught Me
About Speaking Two Languages

I was sitting on a park bench in Vienna when they approached me, speaking two languages.

What’s more international than the Volksgarten? An Austrian park in formal French style around a replica Greek temple, it attracts visitors from around the world.

The replica Temple of Theseus at the Volksgarten, Vienna gives a group of visitors an opportunity for speaking in two languages. (Public domain image by Norman Davies)

The Volksgarten (“people’s garden”) blooms with roses and buzzes with languages.
Norman Davies (public domain)

I’d been thinking about language, about the surprising fact that I’d found it easier to speak Hungarian than German.

Let me explain. One of my travel pleasures is taking language lessons and then practicing every day with native speakers. Picking things up little by little. Savoring the taste of new words.

Permission to Speak

When I did this in cities like Budapest, or countries like Malta, Bulgaria, Greece, and Turkey, native speakers responded with encouragement. It’s not about ego boosting—the nearest toddler could out-debate me—but genuine human connection.

People overlooked flaws in pronunciation, eased me past mistakes, and enriched my vocabulary with the aplomb of chocolatiers proffering boxes of pralines.

Alas, when I spoke German in Austria, native speakers switched to English. Politely, but irrevocably. How to negotiate, to explain that I missed speaking two languages?

So what if I strode in one language, limped in the other? I’d happily hobble along in order to learn.

A street scene in Vienna reminds a writer of the pleasures of speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A Wanderlust for Words

I became a silent student of German. I read food labels and environmental text, listened to opera and watched local news. At a thrift store near Sigmund Freud’s historic apartment, I found a 1970s children’s book and carried it home like it was Mozart’s lost sonata.

Whenever I rode the metro or shared an elevator, my ears fairly twitched like a dog’s toward familiar sounds.

Assorted German-language reading materials inspire a writer in Vienna who misses speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Talking Points

I marveled at close connections and vast gaps between German and English.

I fell in love with the word arbeitslust, which artist Gustav Klimt used to discuss the will, indeed the burning desire, to do one’s work.

But I wasn’t speaking two languages.

It was like viewing a feast, but never tasting it. Maybe there’s a German word for that, too.

Cakes on display in Cafe Demel, Vienna, Austria become a metaphor for speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Teen Talk to the Rescue

Then I met four Austrian teens on a mission.

Their teacher had sent forth small groups with an unusual assignment: Go to the Volksgarten, find a friendly foreigner, and make a trade using English.

Their teacher was helping her students acquire language functions.

Language functions are specific purposes we address every day: We summarize a movie. We compare and contrast our baseball team’s wins and losses. We greet neighbors and ask questions to get to know them. We persuade a friend to help us move.

A market in Budapest reminds a writer of reasons for speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

A Good Egg

“What are you trading?” I asked.

“Albert,” they said.

“Excuse me?”

Albert, it turned out, was a total egghead. Hard-boiled, I was assured.

Cedric, Catriona, Adah, and Nicky persuaded me that I would benefit from the trade, because:

Albert had purple hair,
a nice smile,
a pleasing shape,
and was very portable.
Besides, how often do you meet a purple-haired egg named Albert in a 19th century park in Vienna?

Sure, they might have mentioned that eggs are a reliable source of protein, selenium, and vitamin D. But when the egg in question has a big goofy smile, why go there?

For my negotiation, all I had was a pen. So I told stories about, well, writing stories with it.

And since negotiations entailed that all stakeholders should benefit, I suggested they each use the pen to record English expressions.

“It’s a deal!”

A deal that got sweeter: The teens spoke German with me. Vielen Dank!

People conversing near water in Vienna, Austria become a metaphor for speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Trading Ideas

We traded pleasantries and then we traded languages. Like ei for “egg.” And glücklich for “happy.”

Ich bin glücklich, I ventured.

“We’re happy, too,” they said. “This was fun!” When four teens say they’ve enjoyed meeting a woman old enough to be their ~~grandm~~—uh, mom, that’s a good day.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter who was the native speaker. Only that we were speaking. In two languages.

These confident-looking teens admitted they’d felt nervous approaching strangers to start a conversation. Some folks shooed them away.

As for the trade, anyone who’d been willing to negotiate offered . . . a pen. So why had they accepted mine?

“You made it into a story,” they said. “What about us?”

“You made an egg into ‘Albert.’ An ei into an I.”

An egg character set against a scene of urban crowds becomes a metaphor for the fragility one can feel when speaking two languages. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Oh, I see: We’re all speaking two languages. Words, and whatever gives them meaning. Imagination and negotiation. Curiosity and discovery. Trust and connection.

Is there a word that means “a love of communicating with others”? With practice—and the encouragement of fellow travelers—we just might find out.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy 3 Comments

Austria/Becoming Bilingual/Cultural Encounters/Language & Culture

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“Blistering Blue Brussels, Tintin!”