Once the flag goes up, a reverential hush descends on the finch fanciers.
None of the contestants hunched over boxes in this corner of Flanders not far from Ypres makes a sound, not even a cough. Then, one by one, their birds burst into song.
The crowd that gathers to watch the curious events in the Belgian town of Geluveld on Saturday will be witnessing one of the world’s oldest competitions, in which finches are encouraged to sing the most songs in an hour by their owners.
Although next to nobody has heard of his hobby, even at home, Gino Welvaert says it is growing popular to become a vinkenier, or finch fancier, a centuries-old Flemish tradition. For elite competitors, he explains, the moments before battle are the most treasured.
Welvaert, 64, president of the national federation of finch fanciers, enthuses about the moment when the flag — usually red or green — is raised to begin the contest. “For us it is a sacred moment, everything becomes quiet,” he says. “You just hear the birds and that is all you hear. You feel it. This moment when everyone listens at the same intensity.”
He adds: “It is incredible that these moments exist in this world. It is pure.”
The rules are fairly simple. Just before the flag goes up, the fanciers are told to move one box to their right, which contains a competitor’s finch. They make a mark for each “valid song” they hear from their opponent’s bird on a big stick. At the end of the hour, the bird with the most songs wins.
A valid song has at least two syllables and ends with “wiet”, the organisers say. “When you realise that during that one hour no one speaks, but only listens, you understand the ‘sanctity’ of our reke,” Welvaert says, using the Flemish name for the long line of seated fanciers.
Noting that the Belgian championship now has about 800 competitors, he says that people are increasingly drawn to “mutual respect and honesty” of the hobby. He adds: “These are qualities that are very much in flux in today’s society.”
The finches sing in their covered cages to assert their dominance by outdoing other males, and to impress females. The winner is the finch with the most valid songs.
Because the birds interact and communicate, predicting a winner is impossible. “They influence each other and their songs can be different every time. For me, that is part of the beauty,” Welvaert says.
A curiosity of the sport is that the finches sing in a regional Flemish dialect, leading to comparisons with the big linguistic division in Belgium between Dutch-speakers in Flanders and the French-speaking Walloons. “The song of our finches ends with ‘wiet’,” said Welvaert. “Birds from other regions often sing foreign dialects that end with ‘wieeuw’ or ‘wietju’.”
The tradition and custom of the vinkenzetten — finch sport— dates back to at least 1473 and has its origins in the late medieval guilds of bird catchers and traders. Contests performed for the feudal aristocracy were held in town including Ypres, and after the French revolution finch fancying became a popular hobby.
As with most sports involving captive animals, it is not without controversy. From the 18th century, it became common to blind the finches, based on the idea that they would sing better in the dark because they would not be frightened by crowds. This practice was ended in 1921 after protests by First World War veterans who had been blinded by mustard gas on the battlefields around Ypres and Flanders.
In 2002, European Union directives banned the catching of wild songbirds, meaning that all competing finches are now bred in captivity. Although the tradition has changed, opposition from the Flemish bird protection campaigners has remained.
Welvaert is the son of a “true finch breeder” and upholds a tradition that, he thinks, has lessons for Belgian society. “My late father taught me the tricks of the trade from an early age,” he says. “I have never spent a single day in my entire life without keeping finches. After my father passed away in 2009, I still feel his presence in everything I do with my birds. It shows how the present remains inextricably linked to the past. Our hobby loves traditions, and you don’t do it for the big money.”
He’s not joking. Last year, the champion finch fancier received exactly €30 for his victory.
“Being together and maintaining social contact is a very important aspect of who finch fanciers are,” Welvaert says. “Being among friends and stepping out of the daily grind is a much-appreciated part of our hobby.”
