The blind ("Les aveugles") - Tournai

This group of four blind men, led by a child, is a bronze work by Guillaume Charlier.

The group consists of five larger than life figures. In front of them is a boy, who in profile shows a serious and thoughtful head, but is very lively. He wears only a threadbare tunic pulled tight around his waist. His left foot points forward, his right arm hangs beside him, while the hand of his left arm, folded at chest level, clasps the open right hand of an old man resting on his shoulder...

This first man , solidly built, walks with a heavy, unsteady step, his left hand resting on a gnarled stick. His entire body is draped in a fabric that is both heavy and supple, with long pleats that fall to his knees. This fabric also frames the mask, bare and bony, with prominent cheekbones. The eyelids are lowered, but the eyes bend upward to stare inwards.

Behind this unfortunate man comes an old man, also leaning on a stick; his forehead is depressed, his chest and left shoulder bony and bare; the drapery, which has been elaborately treated, reveals trembling knees through the tears. The face reflects a bitter and mysterious thought; a bushy, uncultivated beard hides the lower part of this mask where the shadow of the strong superciliary arches plunges the deep lanes where nothing shines into eternal darkness...

To the right of this wretch, slightly in front of him, sits another old man whose head is higher and whose ascetic, emaciated face has more hollow sockets, like two wounds. A profuse beard is drawn back to his left shoulder, his nostrils greedily sucking in air and space. He too is covered with a remnant of burnous that leaves his right shoulder bare; with his left hand he grabs the edge of the cloak of the child who accompanies him.

Behind this old man stands a fourth figure , still young, but whose mask forms a painful contrast to the others. The eyes are dull, with extinguished reflections, but stubbornly fixed on the sunny distance. Beneath the stubborn nose and shaved lip is a thin mouth in which we see the ironic brilliance of regular teeth. The head, wrapped in the fabric of the robe, seems more alive, sadder in the shadow of the folds that line the thin face. Her dilapidated, tattered cloak leans to the left on the back, making wide breaks and blending harmoniously with the dress of the beggar next to her.

Willem Vandenameele