Museum aan de Stroom

Stand still for a moment and feel the wind off the water. It carries a faint smell of salt, diesel and wet stone. Gulls call over the docks. In front of you, a tower of deep red stone rises in stacked blocks, each one turned slightly from the one below. Between the blocks, curved glass ripples like the surface of a harbour on a breezy day. This is the Museum aan de Stroom, the Museum by the River. Most people here simply call it the MAS.

The tower stands on the Eilandje, which means the Little Island. This is the oldest part of the port of Antwerp. For centuries, ships unloaded spices, grain, furs and timber along these quays. On one side of the museum lies the Bonapartedok, and on the other the Willemdok. Both basins were dug in the early nineteenth century, when Napoleon ruled this region and wanted Antwerp as a naval base. So the water around you is not a natural river. It is a working harbour, shaped by human hands.

The museum opened in 2011. It was designed by Neutelings Riedijk, an architecture firm from Rotterdam in the Netherlands. Their idea was simple and clever. The old port was full of warehouses, where goods were stacked crate on crate. So the architects stacked the museum the same way. Each floor is a closed box of stone that holds the collections. The boxes rise around a spiral, and each one rotates a quarter turn. The result looks different from every side of the dock.

Look closely at the stone itself. It is a red sandstone, cut and shipped from India. Its colour picks up the old brick of the warehouses around you. In soft morning light it looks almost pink. Under a grey Flemish sky it turns the colour of dried earth. And after rain, it darkens to a rich rust red. The material was a quiet nod to trade. Here is a building about global shipping, made from stone that crossed an ocean.

Now comes the first detail many visitors miss. Scattered across the stone are small, shining metal medallions. Walk closer and you will see that each one carries the shape of a hand. There are many hundreds of them, spread across every face of the tower. Why hands? The answer lies in Antwerp's favourite story — and that story is a legend, not history.

According to local folklore, a giant named Druon Antigoon once lived beside the river Scheldt. He demanded a toll from every passing boat. Those who refused lost a hand. Then a young Roman soldier named Brabo fought the giant and defeated him. He cut off the giant's own hand and threw it into the river. Locals say the city's name comes from this moment, from the Dutch words for throwing a hand. Language historians prefer a duller explanation... but the hands on this tower show which version the city loves.

The museum's ground was not empty before 2011. On this spot once stood the Hanzehuis, the house of the Hanseatic merchants. The Hanseatic League was a powerful network of trading cities around the North Sea and the Baltic. Their grand Antwerp headquarters burned down in the late nineteenth century. That is why the square in front of the museum carries the name Hanzestedenplaats, the Square of the Hanseatic Cities. The new tower continues an old purpose. Once again, this spot connects Antwerp to the wider world.

Look down at the square before you go inside. Set into the paving is a large mosaic of a skull. It was created by Luc Tuymans, one of Belgium's best-known living painters, who was born in Antwerp. Many visitors walk straight across it without noticing. From ground level it can look like random patterned stone. Step back toward the edge of the square, or look down later from the tower, and the image comes together. It is a quiet reminder of mortality, placed right at the door of a museum about human history.

Inside, the MAS brings together collections that once lived in several older museums. There was a maritime museum, an ethnographic museum, and a museum of local folk life. Now their objects share one roof. The displays move between big themes rather than strict timelines. You might find ship models, port maps and figureheads. You might also find ceremonial objects from the Americas, Africa, Asia and Oceania, alongside the story of Antwerp itself. The question running through the building is how a port city connects people, power and goods.

Here is the second surprise. You do not need to visit the exhibitions to climb the tower. Between the stone boxes runs a public gallery, with long escalators behind that rippled glass. Each landing gives you a new view, because each box faces a different direction. One moment you look over the old city. The next, you look out over cranes and container ships. It works almost like a vertical street, open to the whole city, rising up through the museum.

At the top waits a rooftop terrace. From here, the whole story of Antwerp lies spread out below you. To the south, find the spire of the Cathedral of Our Lady rising above the old town. To the north, the modern port stretches toward the horizon, one of the largest in Europe. Below, the docks of the Eilandje hold pleasure boats and converted warehouses. On a clear day, take your time and turn slowly in a full circle.

The neighbourhood around the museum has changed a great deal. Not long ago, this was a fading industrial district of empty sheds. Today, the old warehouses hold flats, restaurants and studios. A short walk away, the Red Star Line Museum tells the story of emigrants who sailed from Antwerp to America. Locals come here to jog along the quays, sit by the water, or meet friends on the square. The MAS helped turn the Little Island back into a place where people want to be.

Before you leave, stand once more at the foot of the tower. Listen to the slap of water against the dock walls. Watch the light move across the red stone and catch on the small silver hands. Think of the ships that once tied up here, and the cargo and stories they carried. As you walk away along the quay, glance back. The tower will have turned another face toward you, as if it is still watching the river.