The Great Fire of Aachen 1675
(A series of paintings depicting the fire, the disorientation, the solidarity and the reconstruction)
After the Hundred Years' War in Germany, people could finally breathe. Many cities lay in ruins, but Aachen - where German emperors were crowned - had been spared. A baker, accustomed to spreading embers in his attic, made one fatal mistake: the fire wasn't completely out. On that windy May day, the timber-framed city became a tinderbox. 80% burned. Panic spread that the gunpowder tower might explode. People fled beyond the walls.
It's harrowing to hear survivors of California wildfires describe losing possessions and memories - now imagine that loss without social safety nets. The devastation was so complete that some questioned whether rebuilding was possible. Yet this catastrophe reveals our vulnerability and resilience in equal measure. What fascinates me isn't the exotic otherness, but the relatable human responses: Why persist? What resilience carries us through despair?
Solidarity emerges as our saving grace. In crisis, we become a tight-knit unit. Aachen received aid from neighboring cities, even the Vatican. The Dutch poet Vondel, Cologne-born but Amsterdam-made, wrote powerfully about the disaster. Faith too proved vital - our ancestors' beacon of hope in dark times.
Interpretation:
The Great Fire of Aachen (1675): The Ashes From Which We Recreate Ourselves**
What if catastrophe isn't an ending, but an awakening?
The flames that consumed Aachen didn't just destroy homes - they burned away the illusion of permanence. Suddenly this city of timber and crowned emperors stood naked: combustible hopes exposed. That baker with his embers became an accidental philosopher - his small error proving how thin civilization's veneer really is.
The Paradox of Disaster:
The more the fire took, the more it revealed:
- Protective walls became wind tunnels for destruction
- The gunpowder tower, symbol of military might, became something needing protection itself
- Social safety nets, previously nonexistent, emerged spontaneously from ashes
Here's the miracle: at the brink of total loss, we discover what truly can't be lost. Like California wildfire survivors today, those fleeing Aachen lost everything except the one intangible thing - the will to continue.
Why Rebuild?
Not despite destruction, but because of it:
1. Ruins present a blank canvas humans cannot resist filling
2. Solidarity, dormant in calm times, awakens like forgotten muscle memory
3. Faith - whether in God or community - provides not comfort but an excuse to keep going
The year-long smell of ashes wasn't a memorial to loss, but a promise: "See what we survived." Weeds growing through charred beams weren't decay, but time's indifferent continuation - with or without us.
The Final Question:
How much fire do we need? Just enough to remember we're flammable. The phoenix must first burn to understand why it flies.
Aachen rose again not in spite of the fire, but because of it. For what is a city if not a collective decision to continue together? The flames took houses but left something greater: the realization we've always been burning - we only noticed when forced awake.