After crossing Schaarbeek by passing through the Turkish quarter and its many dining decks, I trekked along rue Royal to arrive in front of a shuttered house and a closed door. The panel next to the entrance contained a more terrifying marking than Dante’s inferno:
“Ouvert par hasard et par appel.”
The paper taped above the door handle contained more positive news: the Léon Spilliaert exhibition was open, one only had to ring the bell. When the chime had rung and the staff member explained how…