The portraits have found their voice at Kasteel d’Ursel, a splendid moated castle the colour of an unripe lemon, some 30 km from Antwerp, hosting the exhibition “Talking Heads” (1626–2026).

It tells the story of the aristocratic d’Ursel family, whose dukes and duchesses commissioned portraits from renowned artists and occasionally took up the brush themselves — such as the 6th Duchess, Antonine de Mun, who painted numerous portraits ranging from family members to household servants.

According to the first family story presented in the exhibition, exactly 400 years ago the earliest surviving portrait in the collection was created: a depiction of Anne-Marie de Robles, the 2nd Duchess, with her children — believed by art historians to be a cropped fragment of a larger painting. From this date, the exhibition’s “clock” begins its journey through a portrait gallery featuring works by 50 contemporary artists who, each in their own often unconventional manner, continue to explore the genre of portraiture.

Every room contains a genealogical tree of the d’Ursel family marked with a red arrow indicating whose portrait is displayed on the surrounding walls. Admission to the castle includes a catalogue describing both the historical and contemporary portraits. The exhibition offers a fascinating journey through the history of one family intertwined with the fate of a nation.

Let us begin with a detective story. Shortly after the family sold the castle in 1972 — its upkeep had become too difficult, and the descendants of the distinguished family had scattered across different countries — at least seven family portraits were cut from their frames and stolen. For more than fifty years nothing was heard of them, until, in 2022, a grand 17th-century portrait unexpectedly appeared at auction. Its buyer agreed to restore the painting and place it on long-term loan to Kasteel d’Ursel.

Publicity surrounding the discovery led to the return of two further 18th-century state portraits and an early 19th-century group portrait. Since the family had preserved the empty frames after the theft, the recovered paintings can now once again be reunited with them. Pending restoration, the works are displayed exactly as they survived — complete with holes, tears and traces of damage that serve as reminders of this extraordinary story.

Kasteel d’Ursel was later acquired by the Province of Antwerp and today functions as a multi-purpose cultural castle.

The exhibition offers a visual overview of the evolution of the portrait genre. The most striking works are the formal state portraits. Often life-sized and depicting figures in full length, dukes and duchesses look out at visitors from heavy gilded frames. These works serve as symbols of power, wealth and lineage, and were frequently created by court painters of kings and governors, such as Justus van Egmont, Joseph Vivien and Jean-Pierre Sauvage. Many portraits were also produced in the manner of great masters and their followers, for instance those of Cornelis de Vos or Gaspar de Crayer.

Throughout the 18th century, portraits became smaller and less formal. Oil on canvas temporarily gave way to pastel on paper. Between 1756 and 1775, the duke posed for Jan Frans Legillon, the duchess for Pierre Bernard, her brother for Joseph de Saint-Michel, their son for Joseph Ducreux, and the whole family together was portrayed by Benjamin-Samuel Bolomey.

After the French Revolution, more informal portraits emerged: several light and even playful depictions of the duchess and her sister, as well as a romantic family group portrait with children by Charles Le Clerc.

During the Napoleonic era, Charles Pierre Verhulst painted a relaxed duke holding a pipe, and later likely depicted his two young children together with their dog.

By then, miniature portraits had already appeared — delicate works painted on ivory by Johann Anton de Peters, Alexandre Delatour, and many anonymous artists. In the mid-19th century, the duchess commissioned Bernard Seibert to create miniature portraits of each of her six children in infancy. He later also painted the duchess herself, as well as two portraits of her daughters shortly before they died at the ages of 11 and 14.

Later, Alexandre Thomas came to be regarded as a kind of “court painter” to the family, producing portraits of both the duke and his eldest son. In the early 20th century, Philip de László immortalised three generations of the family (almost four).

In the d’Ursel family, painting was traditionally the preserve of women. Antonine de Mun was the most talented and prolific among these aristocratic amateurs. Over decades she painted landscapes, still lifes and religious scenes, but above all numerous portraits of everyone around her — family members, friends, servants, her physician, and even her ancestors. More than twenty of her works, gathered from private collections of her descendants, are included in the exhibition.

After this historical overview, it is time to move to the present day. Fifty new contemporary art works — an impressive number.

Contemporary artists approach the portrait genre in a far more open and subjective way, and therefore less realistically. They tend to focus on emotion, personality and identity, or address broader social issues. Their portraits can be experimental, abstract, humorous and even provocative. Not only painting is used, but also digital technologies and mixed media techniques.

Portrait art is shifting away from simple representation of appearance towards free interpretation. A portrait no longer only tells us who the depicted person is, but also how the artist understands them, or how the work itself stimulates the viewer’s imagination.

The first work in the exhibition is a portrait of Matisse, the 25-year-old future 11th Duke of House of d’Ursel heir Matisse, who travelled specially from Spain, where he lives, to sit for the Belgian artist Mieke Teirlinck.

The youngest member of this ancient aristocratic family looks at us in three-quarter profile, in the manner of portraits by Diego Velázquez. Mieke first organised a photo session in a room with grey wallpaper, carefully adjusting the lighting for a long time. She saw in the future duke a “legionary” and wanted to capture his character.

Her greatest struggle was the nose — as becomes clear from the historical portraits, it is a distinctive feature shared by the entire d’Ursel family.

The most touching artwork is linked to a sorrowful episode in the family’s history. The Brussels-based sculptor Elisabeth de Vee created a double fireplace figurine around 1956. It is a stylised depiction of Madeleine André, the second wife of Henri, 8th Duke (1900–1975), and their daughter Marie. They died in a car accident near the Spanish village of Fuentenovilla and were buried in the family crypt beside the church of Saint Stephen in Hingene.

The figurine is a trial cast in patinated plaster, acquired by the castle at auction. The bronze version placed in the crypt during the funeral has since disappeared.

I feel a strong personal connection to the work “Self-Portrait in a Walnut Shell” by French artist Marion Moskowitz (1989). I was born in Moldova, one of whose main exports is the walnut. My grandparents had a large walnut tree, and we always use walnuts in baking. In Moskowitz’s family, birthday cakes traditionally included ten walnuts from generation to generation.

When the artist turned thirty, she collected three hundred walnut shells and created a sculpture from them. It carries a double meaning — a reminder of celebration, as well as a reference to a family tradition rooted in her Jewish-Hungarian heritage. The work evokes memories of timeless values such as family love and the gestures that shape our identity.

For Steven Peters Caraballo (1978), craftsmanship and the human condition are inseparable. He deliberately chooses the slowness and physical presence of oil paint, not out of nostalgia, but from the conviction that the material nature of paint and canvas remains the most direct and sensual way of depicting human vulnerability. When are we most fragile? At the moment of birth. Over 156 seconds, Peters captures an extremely early moment — a photograph of his newborn son taken just 156 seconds after birth: three minutes in which he has only just arrived in a world he is yet to discover.

At first glance, “Core 2026/V” by German artist Mona Ardeleanu appears to be a jacket or shirt richly embroidered with flowers. On closer inspection, an eye emerges from the embroidery, looking out from a breast pocket. Looking further, a stitched heart appears at chest level. Beneath it, a pomegranate symbolises human fertility and transience. Where a tie would normally sit, a braid of hair runs around the collar, as if growing from it. The boundaries between inner and outer space seem to dissolve. If one imagines a second eye within the work, a smiling, moon-like face can even be discerned. And suddenly, a character appears — a soul.

The “Talking Heads” project was made possible through collaboration with leading galleries, including Galerie Templon, Xavier Hufkens and Tim Van Laere Gallery.