Eikenhouten sculpturen in de Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk te Dendermonde before 1889

Editor: Here we have an image of oak sculptures in the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk in Dendermonde, made before 1889. The high level of detail in the relief is pretty impressive. What’s your take? Curator: The oak immediately draws my attention. Consider the labor involved in selecting, carving, and transporting such material. The very density of the wood dictates the process; its grain informs the artist's cuts, each layer peeled away demanding physical strength. This wasn't merely artistic vision; it was a physical undertaking. Editor: That’s a very hands-on way of viewing the work. It almost sounds as though you think that the oak has its say in the process of carving the figures. Curator: Precisely. It raises interesting questions about authorship. Where does the sculptor’s control end, and where does the material’s inherent properties begin? We see here, not just a sculptor, but also timber merchants, haulers, and perhaps the community who planted the tree centuries before. How do they shape the aesthetic meaning we glean today? Editor: So it's about decentering the individual genius of the artist? Curator: Exactly. Artmaking is fundamentally social, materially driven, and dependent on the forces of labor and capital. What looks to be a singular creation reveals layers of dependency. That decorative frame isn’t simply ornamental – it shows how wealth is inextricably entwined with what is made, seen, and revered. Editor: So the sculpture isn’t just art, it’s also a product of specific means of production. I’ll definitely look at materials differently from now on! Curator: It allows us to view the church, the artist, and the wood itself in their intricate context. Everything is deeply connected.