Robin Frings
Music interpreter, online creator and actor
I am deaf. Perhaps that is why I look at things differently. Not because I am missing something, but because I often find stories in what is visible: a look, a gesture, or a small detail can say more than a thousand words.
This brooch may seem silent, but it has a life story to tell. To me, this work of art shows that meaning does not lie in sound, but in what you feel, see and carry with you. Perhaps the most beautiful stories are told in silence.
Fresco Sam-Sin
Philologist, OVT book reviewer, project leader on behalf of the Kreukelcollectief
Petronella Moens wrote, published her work and engaged with the world. I admire what she did. I suspect we would have understood one another. Her poor eyesight was part of her life, but it was by no means the most interesting thing about her.
And then there is this brooch, her hair meticulously braided beneath the glass. Strangely enough, that is precisely how I experience my own poor eyesight. I want to be remembered for what I made, thought and set in motion, not as ‘that visually impaired man’. At the same time, I know that my eyes have made me inventive, tenacious and headstrong.
I would like to separate my poor eyesight from my achievements, but if you were to pull that thread from the braid, part of the pattern would fall apart too.
Suzanne van Leeuwen
Curator and conservator of Jewellery
In the 19th century, human hair was incorporated into jewellery in many different ways. Hair could be a sentimental and physical reminder of a friendship, a family member or someone who had died. This silver filigree brooch contains a braid made from the hair of the Dutch writer and poet Petronella Moens (1762–1843), who was visually impaired. It was a cherished keepsake of her friend, the artist Margaretha Cornelia Boellaard (1795–1872), who made several portraits of Moens. The brooch was probably made after Moens’ death and served as a memento of a special friendship. As jewellery, it could be worn close to the heart.
