Elsewhere and at other times

I’m the sort of person that goes to bed on holiday with the camera next to me, in case I wake up in the morning and see something I want to take a picture of. You never know what you might wake up seeing.

Z and D having a little early morning chat. We were surprisingly fast for four people to get out of the house and on our way.

Tourist pic time!

A managed to prop her phone up on Z’s bike so we could all be in the picture - in front of the windmill. Came out really good!

I wanted to repeat the perfect Sunday (on a Sunday again - nice!) so off we cycled to Het Schoolhuis in Holysloot for some lunch.

Got the best table in the garden. Thanks Z for the pic :0)

After lunch we picked out a scenic spot and meditated together. One of my favourite memories of the whole trip.

We then went for a little walk in the ‘hood. D & A spotted

this guy, before we did.

Time to cycle back into town.

This man caught my eye, and clocked me taking his pic, and I made sure I smiled at him, because that’s what a polite person does. Makes for a nice shared moment rather than being a picture taking robot that just continues on without acknowledging the other person involved.

Had to stop and take another picture on Haarlemmerstraat, this time of this building that looked heavily influenced by Alphonse Mucha.

See what happens when you smile and take pictures of strangers? You get smiled at back.

Walking through Westerpark this caught my eye. Kudos to anyone who bothers to bring a hammock to a park.

Our destination? Rainarai of course. We tried to dent the massive portions as much as we could, and delicious as usual it was too. I know it looks like A is ‘gramming’ here, but she isn’t. Not everyone carries a big camera innit.

And on the way home we had to stop and get off our bikes to look at the incredible full moon. Alas, this lady doesn't travel with a zoom, but take my word for it, it was huge.

On the Monday morning the peonies that Z had bought had opened up; I’ve never seen peonies this colour in the UK.

This was the day that we went to the Rijks, and moseying around the Jordaan afterwards we had a nosy in this empty house. Some jammy sod must’ve moved in there by now.

While we’re looking at houses, let’s look at some more. These are at the edge of the Red Light district, in fact just around the corner from Ons Lieve Heer.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been to Amsterdam by now, but I always do a little research before I go, and somewhere I came across pictures of this bar, In’t Aepjen. Amsterdam’s bruin cafés (pubs) have never really been on my radar before, but I remember walking past one that looked really cosy last time me and Oomoo where there (in fact the interior of it inspired me to get rid of our white walls at home), and thinking that I’d really like to go to one one day. Well, child free this time round we went, and lovely it was too. It was very small, but not packed and loud like a pub can be, and we tried some jenever for the first time, which gets served all the way to the top of the glass, like in the picture to the left. You then have to kind of bow into the glass to have your first sip. Fun!

D saying something… surprising/shocking? Whatever it was I missed out, but it was worth it. Love the reactions.

We only stayed for one drink, and this was what met us as we came out. ‘Hope for another life’ it says, according to Google Translate. Maybe that is what it says - but I don’t trust GT.

These guys obviously didn't stop at one drink. Maybe they were hoping for another life.

D, on the Eurostar, on the way home. So there you go, that was our girls’ trip to the Amsterdamsch, something we dreamt up last summer, when we saw A for the first time since all the lockdowns, and wanted to make up for lost time. Having this trip as something to look forward to, all the way back then, was invaluable. I hope we’ll do plenty more of them.

Oh dear Lord

On the morning of the same day that we took the train back to London, we went to Ons Lieve Heer op Solder (Our Dear Lord in the Attic), which I’m sure I’ve blogged about on the old blog, as me and Z have been there before. D is a bit of a church fan, not in a religious way, but in an old buildings way, so it made sense to take her and A to see what is my favourite random and less well known museum in Amsterdam. The Netherlands became a mainly Calvinist (protestant) country in the 1600’s, but still allowed Catholics to practice their form of Christianity, as long as they did so in secret. As a workaround lots of houses where converted into churches, and Ons Lieve was built in the attic of the wealthy merchant Jan Hartman in 1663. The rest of the house has also been turned into a museum, with historically correct decoration and furnishings.

And you guys know how much places like this excite me, don’t you? Places were I can drool at colour combinations and beautiful details.

Initially me and Z were not sure whether we wanted to go back to this place as it felt a bit ‘been there, done that’, but we were both so glad that we did. We could take it in in a completely different way, and it was actually really nice to not use the audio guide this time round, as it gave us the chance to look at everything again, without being steered of where to look.

I think I’m starting to have a thing for rooms with the walls covered in fabric. It just feels so cosy, and deadens sound perfectly. I’m not sure how practical it would be in real life, as the fabric must surely get very dusty, and will probably have to be professionally cleaned, because good luck with fitting the fabric in your washing machine and ironing it.

See what I mean? COSY. And I’m not sure why the Dutch use actual rugs as table cloths, but they used to, a lot. In fact on the last trip to Amsterdam we had lunch in a really quiet but cool café, where all the tables had rugs on them. Doesn’t strike me as very hygienic, but best not to think about it too much.

‘Know yourself’. How apt for a mirror.

And another thing I’m crushing on? Box beds. Same thing - super cosy. I think cosy is my most important feeling I want from an interior.

Our dear Z in the attic. Hallelujah.

As you climb the narrow stairs you finally arrive in the church part itself. Here’s D taking a picture of the altar, standing in the nave. Listen to me with all my church knowledge! Well, I’m about to finish a 10-week long online course on architectural history, which has been just awesome, but as hardly any secular buildings have survived that past couple of millennia, the course has mainly been about churches. So if you want to know about narthexes, apses, ambulatories, and clerestories, then I’m here yeah?

I eavesdropped on this guide showing a group of teenage girls around. She was so enthusiastic and engaging, she really had them paying attention. I also felt very proud of myself for understanding everything she said - in Dutch. I guess I’m blowing my own trumpet in this post, huh?.

Some sculptures near the part where the church organist would sit and play.

There were also some items of clothing dotted around the place.

I really dig the mustard colour of this priest’s robe.

Not sure the meaning of this (so I guess it’s time to put that trumpet away), but I’m sure it means something, seeing as a dove symbolises the holy spirit? Maybe it’s just trapped in the attic.

Z checking out the linen curtains; she’s actually ended up choosing very similar for her house.

Two angles of where the priest would sit in the confessional.

And Z on the side of the confessor.

D, matching the warmth of this room.

These Delft (Delft! Somewhere I really want to go one day) tiles are so nice, aren’t they?

And this one, shaped like a newel post (it was right next to a staircase). I know I say it a lot about places I’ve blogged about, but seriously, if you’re ever in Amsterdam, you HAVE TO check this place out. I’ve never seen anything like it, and my pictures don’t do it justice. I also find the juxtaposition of what it is and where it is - the Red Light District - quite amusing. I’m sure Jan Hartman would be turning in his grave if he knew.

Tiny house

There was one more thing I wanted to show you from the Rijks. And what a thing it is. It’s this dolls’ house that belonged to Petronella Oortman, built in the late 1600’s. Oortman was a wealthy widow (who later remarried) and had the house and furniture made for her, which ended up costing as much as a full scale one. Rich women commissioned these houses to show off their wealth, and this particular one ended up in the museum. Shall we have a little look round it?

The house and furniture within were all built to scale, using the same materials as their full scale versions. Again with the workmanship! And I love the fabric on the wall - very very cool. I’m not familiar with the lay out of Dutch merchants’ houses of the era, but I think this is supposed to be a kids’ bedroom on the ground floor.

And here is the kitchen, with real marble for the flooring. We’ve been watching a programme on Channel 4 called The Great Big Tiny Design Challenge (really rolls off the tongue doesn’t it?), so I was more drawn to this than I have been on previous visits. And now that I’m older I’m definitely more attuned to highly skilled workmanship, as I can appreciate it on a whole other level. I think it’s related to how most things are done so cheaply and of low quality these days, that when you see things made with proper care and attention, they really stand out. I recently read this article in the Observer about current craftspeople and found it inspiring and reassuring.

Apparently Oortman had these small pieces of porcelain made and sent over from China. Zoom in and have a closer look - they are quite something.

The mural in this room was painted by a proper artist too - no wonder it cost a fortune! In fact Oortman was so proud of it she commissioned Jacob Appel to paint a painting of the dolls’ house, which is also in the Rijks. In it you can see that some of the rooms look different, so maybe parts of the house have been damaged over the centuries, or maybe she chose to update the decor after the painting was made.

A hallway. Fancy fancy.

Is this a dressing room? With what they wore back in those days it would probably take an hour or two just to get dressed. They might even have paused half-way through for a cuppa, judging by the china on console table. Haha, I think i’m forgetting that this is a dolls’ house aren’t I? All the dolls, apart from the little baby that you see seated to the right, were sadly lost at some point.

The top floor bedroom with amazing details all around.

I really liked these two rooms at the top, with the laundry hanging on rails and the coal store at the top of the last little set of stairs. The house inspired the writer Jessie Burton to write The Miniaturist, which also became a TV-series, and I’ve read and watched both of them and enjoyed them, even if they’re a bit trashy. It was so nice to be transported to 17th century Amsterdam and drink in some of the (very dramatic) atmosphere. So there you go, the smallest house tour ever, just for you.

P.S. A snuck this pic of me looking at it, which was very helpful, as this way you can really see the scale of it. Big and small at same time (Biggie Smalls anyone?).

Rijksmuseum time

Yo! Thought it was time for a design refresh here. Lately I just wasn’t feeling the blog, and so I thought that maybe, if I went back on Instagram for a bit (after a 4 & 1/2 year hiatus), it would make me want to blog again - and it worked! I only lasted five days on IG before I deleted it again, and came away from it knowing that I needed to change the look of the blog a bit - just like how painting a room a new colour makes you see it with new eyes. So funny that I knew exactly what I had to do to trick myself into blogging again. Anyway, back to the post…

Just being in Amsterdam for three days meant that I had to strip down the visit to the essentials, and with there being a dearth of good exhibitions on, I decided that our cultural outing had to be a visit to the Rijksmuseum. We got there first thing in the morning when they opened (the only way to get in without having to face a long queue), and started our visit with breakfast in the museum café, where we admired this tulipiere in the picture above, which is how tulips were displayed in the 17th century. If you’d like to buy one this size today it would set you back about €18 000! My friend A really wanted to buy one, but a smaller sized one in the gift shop was €400, so my picture of it had to do instead.

This painting by Vermeer is one that I always have to seek out when I go, I love it so. I have a postcard of it on my fridge so I get to see it every day, but seeing it in person can’t be beat.

These stars, in the ceiling in an atrium part of the museum, were added in the 10-year controversially long refurbishment of the museum, and each one was hand painted in situ. I bet the people painting them dreamt about stars for the duration it took them to finish the project.

The museum library is a beautiful space that you can peek your head into from a mezzanine level; I’ll take better pictures next time I promise. Most of the time when I take pictures I don’t think of shooting it in a way that makes sense on the blog. In fact I don’t really take pictures for the blog, I just take pictures that I want to take and then post whatever I think I can make sense of - in blog form. It’s only afterwards that I think ‘Oh you idiot, why didn’t you take a wider shot, or why didn’t you get a shot of the outside of the building?!’ etc. But you know what? It doesn’t actually matter. I’m me, and this is my corner of the internets, and this is how I blog. S’all good.

Back to the aaaaarrrrttt then. I have never seen portrait tiles before. Have you? I likes it.

And the details on this late 17th century wooden cabinet - mijn god!

I didn’t get any good wide pictures as it was quite dark, but you can see the whole thing here. Can’t even imagine the amount of hours this would’ve taken to make. But if you do this, with this much skill, you surely must be in heaven making it.

These two! They were quite small, which I reckon made them even more special. The highlights on the gooseberries! The fuzzy peaches! Mind blown.

Next time I go to Amsterdam (which won’t be too long from now - woohoo!) I want to go to this spot of Herengracht and see how different it looks now - with my own eyes.

I think this was my favourite painting this visit. It just looked so contemporary. Must have been quite an unusual depiction back in 1645-50 when it was painted. I also quite want her hat.

A having a rest in between all the looking and walking. That little rest on a bench in a museum/exhibition is one of my favourite moments. Both your legs and your brain needs a breather after a while, but then, just few minutes later, you’re ready to go again, refreshed.

This guy… just amazing. Like an olden day angry emoji, no?

Loved this cabinet - so modern, yet so clearly very old.

Can’t remember exactly what era this sealed off replica room was from, but it was very grand and atmospheric. Shame I didn’t get a better pic of it (enough with the complaining).

I just can’t believe how lucky I am to be able to look at things that excite me so much so easily. So grateful to all the artists everywhere that create such amazing pieces of art, and have done for hundreds and hundreds of years, and that there are museums where I can go and see it up close for myself. These two paintings of two people not doing anything special were also some of my favourites this time round.

The night before going to Amsterdam, when I said goodnight to Oomoo, we talked about how cool/strange it is that patterns in nature repeats itself so much, and on different scales. Like how a tree, vein, plant root, lightning bolt, sea coral and lots of other things basically all have the same shape. In Rijks I came across these two old German x-rays of a child’s hands and feet, and straight away thought about that conversation, and how we walk around with what essentially looks like winter trees inside our bodies.

Crazy.

Loved these linocuts too, but sadly I don’t remember the name of the artist. All I know is that the man in the left hand picture was the one who made them, and that the man on the right was his son, and the woman below his wife. He was a Jewish artist who tried to flee with his family in WW2, but they got caught and sent to be a concentration camp, and did not survive.

Just before we called it a day I spotted this stunning landscape

and this little domestic scene. So there you go, a little snapshot of my version of the Rijks spring 2022. If you want to have more of a dig around the collection you can do so here. It’s really well put together.