The Glass Pyramid
What had begun around our kitchen table eventually needed a space of its own. Some buildings fade from your memory as soon as you leave them. Others remain part of your life forever. For me, the Glass Pyramid in Lummen, close to the major interchange where several highways converge, was such a place. The first time I saw it, I stopped for a moment. It was not an ordinary office building.
There was something special about it. It was almost as if the building whispered to me:
"This is a place where new ideas can be born."
Was it only my imagination? Perhaps. Perhaps not. All I know is that I immediately felt this was where I wanted our dream to grow. In the early 1990s, the world was changing ever faster. Computers were slowly finding their way into companies. The fax had become an indispensable tool. Mobile phones were cautiously beginning to enter everyday life.
And yet the ceramic industry still worked almost as it had twenty years earlier. With catalogs. Printed price lists. Hand calculations. Photographs. And samples. I was convinced that the future would be different. Not only for the factories, but also for architects. Tile dealers. Installers. For everyone who worked with ceramic materials every day. Marco shared that conviction. He did not simply listen carefully to my ideas. He developed them further.
Where I saw the practical problems in our industry, he saw the possibilities offered by computers. One evening, after another long conversation about our plans, Marco looked at me and said:
"Dad, if we really want to do this, we also have to have the courage to think big." I have never forgotten those words, because he was right. A small office would not be enough. We needed space. Space to bring people together. For demonstrations. For computers. A space where the future could become visible. That is how we arrived at the Glass Pyramid in Lummen in 1995. We rented about forty-three hundred square feet. To many people, it seemed completely insane. Some even thought we were dreamers.
"But what could two people possibly do with so much space?"
I simply smiled. In my mind, that space was already completely filled. Not with furniture, but with ideas. We wanted to create a meeting place. A center where Italian, French, and Spanish manufacturers could present their collections. Where architects could discover new materials. Where importers could attend training sessions. Where computers would no longer be used only to write letters, but also to make complete projects visible before the first tile had even been laid.
Today, all of that seems perfectly normal. At the time, it sounded almost like science fiction. I still remember very clearly the day we installed the first furniture. Every desk was positioned carefully. Every computer was an investment in the future. We connected the telephones. Very soon, the fax seemed to be receiving new messages almost without stopping. Slowly, the Pyramid came to life. It was also in the Pyramid that I began working with Cristina. Marco had known her since their student years.
She had the same open spirit. The same willingness to work hard. And the same endless curiosity. From her first day, she never acted like a mere employee. She immediately became part of our dream. It showed in everything she did. When work still had to be finished in the evening, everyone stayed voluntarily to help. No one watched the clock. We looked only at what remained to be done.
There was an enthusiasm that is difficult to express in words. We truly believed we could build something that would change our industry. Perhaps we were naive. Perhaps we were simply a little ahead of our time. We were probably a little of both. That was precisely what made those years so special. We did far more than work. We laughed. We debated. We ate together. Some of our best ideas were born over lunch, on the corner of a paper tablecloth.
A simple remark from a customer could become the starting point for an entirely new solution the very next day. Everyone contributed ideas. Everyone had something valuable to offer. Even today, when I close my eyes, I hear the sound of keyboards. The fax printing a new message from Italy. Marco entering enthusiastically with a new idea. Cristina welcoming visitors with her sincere smile. And me...
Moving from one desk to another. Sometimes tired. Often worried. But above all, happy. Because I felt I was finally doing exactly what I had been working toward all my life. Not simply filling a building, but bringing people together around a shared dream. To us, the Glass Pyramid was never merely an office. It was a laboratory of ideas. A place where experience met youth. Where Italy and Belgium came together.
Where the past and the future shook hands. When I think back on those years today, the glass is not the first thing I see. I see the people. They were the true light that made the Pyramid shine.
