Maison Hannon

Welcome to the house that belonged to Marie and Édouard Hannon, whose portraits are displayed here. For a long time, this was described as a private mansion; although that is not actually the case, it is an imposing town house. Built between 1902 and 1904, it was designed by the architect Jules Brunfaut. Brunfaut adopted a different approach when using the space typically available in the houses in Brussels. He placed the stairwell, a functional space, in the darkest part of the house, arranging the living areas in a circle around it so that they would benefit from the natural light flowing in from the windows in the façade. Therefore, the main reception rooms, such as the drawing rooms and the winter garden, look onto the Avenue Brugmann, while the dining room on the ground floor and the couple’s bedroom look onto the garden.

Filled with golden light and shimmering colours, the main hall boasts a monumental fresco, created by the French artist Paul Baudouin. Fresco painting is an ancient technique; for Baudouin, this was a way of reviving and surpassing that art, while it enabled Édouard Hannon to display his admiration for Classical Antiquity. The work is spread out in the manner of a tapestry, giving spectators the impression that they are standing at the edge of a wood; it even seems to invite us to step inside the decor. An allegory of deeply fulfilling love, the fresco shows the Hannon couple, depicted as two shepherds, gazing at a female figure who is scattering roses; these represent the joys of life. The setting sun of late summer is suggested through the orangecoloured tints of its reflection in the waves of the blue ocean. The six women seen whirling upwards, holding lyres, symbolise the harmony of nature; that same harmony is evident throughout the house.

Of all the areas in the house, this surely has the most vitality. It is set at an elevated level and juts out from the exterior, enabling natural light to flood into the main hall and stairway. This light nourishes the plants grown there and is echoed in the metallic elements, which were originally gilded. All the stained glass work in the house was created by the French master glassmaker Raphaël Evaldre. A student of Louis Comfort Tiffany, he popularised American glass in Belgium. This is a genuine winter garden, in the technical sense of the term; the structure is made of metal, and light streams in through its glass and stained glass windows. It is equipped with a slate plant container and built-in radiators, enabling exotic, precious plant species, imported from Japan, to be grown here.

Attentive visitors will notice fragments of painted decorations on the ceiling and the upper parts of the walls. These fragments were rediscovered in 2024, and will serve as the basis for the restitution of the ornaments planned in the coming months.

The two rooms you will see here are examples of the “French style” of living. The main drawing room, which is located at the corner of the building, was used to receive guests, whereas the small drawing room was reserved for family use. This convention reflects the French origins of Marie Debard, the lady of the house. In Belgium, only the main drawing room was traditionally located on the ground floor, while the secondary drawing room was on the first floor, and was an extension of the master bedroom. You can find this arrangement at the Horta Museum, which is situated not far from here, in the Rue Américaine. This reception room opens extensively onto the exterior, not only to offer views of the prestigious Avenue Brugmann, but also to increase its own visibility. The bevelled glass here allowed guests to see the plants in the winter garden and, on the side adjacent to the family drawing room, the collection of precious glassware designed by the Frenchman Émile Gallé, a master Art Nouveau creator.

The frescos here, like the one in the stairwell, were created by the painter Paul Baudouin. Classical Antiquity is evoked here too, this time through the red background, known as “Pompeian red”, and the ancient Roman clothing. The scenes depicted here represent the celebration of the senses when the fruit harvest is gathered at the end of summer. The wall on the left hand side shows apple trees in blossom , followed by images of fruit gathering and cider pressing. The ceiling echoes this flowery scene. The wall on the right hand side shows a female lute-player together with a woman dressed in an orange tunic, holding a glass of beer in her right hand and a jug in her left. Another woman, dressed in green, is seen dozing at the foot of a hop plant. Hop cones , which are harvested at the end of summer, are used both to brew beer and, at the same time, to relieve sadness…

As you can see, there are no framed pictures on the walls here, and the environment is practically monochrome. In France, this type of room is known as a “salon des dames”, or “ladies’ room”, the idea being that it allowed their outfits to shine. Yet in fact, the restrained decor here was chiefly intended to showcase the precious objects adorning the room, namely, the most remarkable examples of glassware and woodwork produced by Émile Gallé, a native of Lorraine. The Hannons collected his creations. This furniture series is known as the Ombelles, and was the Gallé company’s most popular model. As their name indicates, these pieces represent umbellifers, or umbrellashaped flowers. With this design, the Gallé firm amalgamated the French and Japanese styles. This model fits in well with the decorative environment in the house. On the right, you can see a column bearing a gilded sculpture of a woman lifting her veil. This work was created in 1899 by the Frenchman Louis-Ernest Barrias and is entitled Nature Unveiling Herself before Science. The sculpture perfectly encapsulates the Hannon’s world.

The bookcase in the centre of the room also has a distinctly Asian appearance. It is engraved with verses by Émile Verhaeren, taken from his poetry collection entitled Heures claires :

L’instant est si beau de lumière,
Dans le jardin, autour de nous ;
L’instant est si rare de lumière première,
Dans notre cœur, au fond de nous.

Tout nous prêche de n’attendre plus rien
De ce qui vient ou passe,
Avec des chansons lasses
Et des bras las par les chemins.

Et de rester les doux qui bénissons le jour.

Now cross the hall to discover the dining room.

In the 19^th century industrialisation transforms cities, individuals, and minds. Science reigns supreme, it structures the world and seeks to reveal its fundamental laws. These scientific and social developments carry with them an ideal of progress, but they do not answer the loss of meaning brought about by modernity. Behind the positivist discourse, a sense of unease takes hold: wars, revolts, and economic and social crises feed a feeling of disillusionment and decline. 

In this context, the Hannon family embodies a personal response: intellectual, artistic, and existential. 
Édouard, an executive at Solvay, is also a photographer: through his lens he captures the faces of a changing world, poised between raw reality and the pursuit of beauty. 

Around him, family and friends create a fertile intellectual environment. The salon of his sister Mariette, a biologist, is a progressive setting, closely linked to the Université libre de Bruxelles, where artists, scientists, and thinkers converge. His brother Théo, a painter and poet, also takes part in this vibrant exchange. These networks foster a vision of the world in which art is no longer limited to aesthetics but becomes a form of commitment. 

It is in this context that Édouard and Marie build a house that is more than a place to live: it is a self-portrait of the couple, a reflection of their values. The Maison Hannon is like a world apart, a Gesamtkunstwerk that links the visible with the invisible, scientific rigor with poetic intuition. Furniture, glasswork, paintings, and architecture engage in a dialogue to create a coherent universe, both a refuge and a manifesto.

The works in this room draw us into that universe. They reflect a period in which art becomes a language for questioning reality, testing its boundaries, and seeking new forms of knowledge. 

As you go up the stairs, you will notice that a landing has been created on the eleventh stair, allowing a pause in the climb. Besides providing greater stability, it served another purpose, as the couple liked to recite poetry there – verses by Verhaeren, as well as songs from Homer’s The Iliad. You are clearly in a house that belonged to a highly cultured pair! 

You are invited to continue the exhibition tour on the first floor: in the bathroom, on your right, you will discover different perspectives on the world.

Once a bearer of hope, progress now reveals its contradictions: machines keep turning, cities expand, yet meaning slips away. Reality, saturated with noise and frenetic action, becomes enigmatic. A sense of stupor sets in, an inner vertigo in the face of the failure of promised ideals. 

Art, like poetry, then becomes a refuge. It no longer seeks to name, but to express feelings: it suggests, questions, opens breaches in the fabric of what is visible. It becomes a medium, a bridge between the world and the mind. 

To achieve this, artists take various paths. Some choose to depict the harshness of daily life with clarity and a desire for justice: this is realism. Others scrutinise the laws of life with a rigorous and empathetic approach: this is naturalism. Still others oppose materialism with a spiritual quest, a transfigured vision of reality: this is symbolism. For the latter, symbol and allegory are reimagined, embodying the veil between the visible and the mysterious, between the world and the self.  

These three paths do not exclude one another, but often cross, converse, and intertwine. Realism can open itself to the mystical, as in the work of Léon Frédéric; naturalism can flirt with allegory, as in Constantin Meunier; and symbolism can anchor itself in the tangible, as in Émile Fabry. 

Commitment unites these modern artists: their work becomes a way to ward off decadence, the sense of decline, and the loss of values. 

In circles and salons, such as L’Essor or Les XX, artists gather to confront their visions, sometimes taking the most radical paths, like that chosen by the Rosicrucian Order. 

Art no longer wishes to be neutral. It becomes an act, a response to crisis. 

After exploring the outside world, artists turn toward the past, especially the Middle Ages, to find meaning and inspiration. The figure of Dante Alighieri becomes a guide, accompanying humanity through its metamorphoses. 

Artists step into the hidden corners of human experience, questioning the innermost self. Art becomes the mirror of human passions, of the soul’s cracks, of inner vertigo. It reflects the tensions, disturbances, and the inner wounds we carry, hinting at ideas that would later shape Freudian thought. 

Passions (love, anger, loneliness, doubt, resentment) are experienced as initiation trials. The artwork becomes a space for confronting oneself. It offers the beauty of silence and a spiritual image of our wounds. 

Through every era, the viewer is invited to recognise themselves in figures such as the sphinx, the femme fatale, or the damned: archetypes that embody their moods and express their inner struggles. Rather than offering a fixed moral judgment, the work suggests that darkness can hold a glimmer of light, and that even evil can reveal what is good. 

By confronting these images, the viewer can progress toward detachment and knowledge of the self. Art thus becomes a passage toward a clearer, freer, and more inward gaze. 

For some artists, simply responding to the crisis is no longer enough: they seek to reform the arts in a profound way. In circles and salons, the idea of a Symbolist school begins take shape, and the movement aims to give itself structure. Certain traditional genres like landscape and portrait were set aside; art becomes a path toward selfknowledge. The artist takes on the role of a mage, and the work becomes an initation tool. 

In Brussels, new ideas from Paris, such as those of Rosicrucianism with “Papus” and Joséphin Péladan, influence the city’s intellectual scene. The Kumris and Pour l’Art salons become lively meeting points for discussion and exchange. But these groups are also marked by tensions: some thinkers believe that humans were the cause of their own downfall; others feel that a divine force has pushed them. All wonder: can knowledge alone redeem us? Can one aspire to a form of inner perfection? 

Ancient Greece and the Italian Renaissance are seen as golden ages, when beauty, skill, and meaning were in perfect harmony. Inspired by occultist thought, Symbolists draw on traditions such as Kabbalah, Gnosticism, and Theosophy. They explore symbols such as the androgynous figure, sacred geometry, and cosmic music as keys to understanding the world and restoring harmony. 

Composer Richard Wagner’s vision of a Gesamtkunstwerk also shaped their thinking, but his Christian and mystical leanings caused division. Jean Delville embraces much of it; Fernand Khnopff remains more reserved. 

In this room, the works on display invite us to see art differently: it is an intimate and powerful language, capable of revealing an invisible but very real truth. It is a tool for understanding ourselves better. 

In this room, the works bear witness to a unity, balance, and a renewed sense of calm that open the way to contemplation of the stars and the mysteries of the world. After journeying through the physical world and transcending their passions through introspection, the new human being finds their place in the cosmos and a sense of belonging to something universal. 

Art no longer seeks to represent or transform reality: it becomes breath, rhythm, silence. It resonates with a vaster harmony, like a cosmic music where every shape reflects an invisible pattern. As a mirror of the cycles of time, of the connections between all things, and of the hidden tempo of the stars, the artwork follows these rhythms and echoes them with sensitivity. Like us, it takes part in this quiet music that connects everything. 

Symbolism proposes an attitude: one of listening, of being open to what is beyond us. It acts as a threshold to the unseen, where light helps guide us back to ourselves. 

This journey, from physical to spiritual, stirs questions that still resonate today. It challenges us to reflect upon the promises of progress, the upheavals brought by economic change, and the search for paths other than those of reason. Rather than rejecting modernity, these works reveal its struggles, dreams, and shortcomings. 

The Frenchman Paul‑Albert Baudoüin, painter and theorist, embodies an idealistic vision of art in which the fresco is a bridge between architecture, painting, and symbolic ideas. The frescoes of the Maison Hannon merge with the space, creating a dreamlike atmosphere: the Hannon couple themselves appear, surrounded by musical allegories that embody harmony. This décor illustrates the ambition of a Gesamtkunstwerk. 

Baudoüin draws his inspiration from Antiquity, which he regards as a model of beauty and moral clarity. In his 1914 treatise La Fresque, sa technique et ses applications, he celebrates the precision and discipline of working on fresh plaster and pays tribute to Giotto, who revolutionised the art of fresco painting in Italy in the 14^th century. For Baudoüin, this demanding art form carries ideals and allegorical narratives.  

As a professor at the École des Beaux‑Arts in Paris, he passed on this vision to his students in public schools, introducing them to mural decoration. These collective projects, often temporary, brought art into everyday life, echoing both the Renaissance spirit and the ideals of Symbolism. 

Baudoüin elevated the fresco to the status of a manifesto where allegory becomes language, and the wall, memory.