I wander aimlessly through those winding streets, accompanied only by the sound of my steps over the cobbles, the air carrying the distant murmur from people in cafés mixed with the joyous sound of a late-afternoon musical party, when these sculptures stop me. Serendipitous instances at the turn of streets, usually occupying a humble corner are lovers forever engaged in a passionate kiss; kids forever lost to their frolic play; a thinker eternally contemplating; a fair lady forever in waiting for her loved one to return, her eyes carrying all the melancholy of the world.
In the flowing, intangible experience of a city, in its winding streets, varied roofs and drawn windows these sculptures, propping out at the most humble and unassuming places, stop me and make me wonder. They make me wonder at the world to which they are eternally lost; at the world they dispassionately see go by, detachedly surrendering themselves to the stream of photographs with the tourists or to the empathy of a lonely traveler such as me.
They engage me, in their frozen instances, as mnemonic reminders of a place, fixing their essence to my mind’s eye, to haunt me later with nostalgia. I find such sculptures to play an important role in fixing the place in our memory, in trying to make tangible the intangible character of a place.
But above all, sculptures such as these, have the ability to slow us on our way, make us pause and remind us to our immediate existence. They demand from the passer-by their empathy and their imagination, the two under-used of human faculties, to see through their eyes, the world that was, the world that is, and the world that will be.
Eindhoven, 16 April 2016