After a very jet-lagged sleep, we're ready to take on the sights. We've prepurchased vouchers/tickets to the three biggies - Van Gogh Museum, the Anne Frank House, and the Rijksmuseum along with a 72-hour transit pass which gets us on all the busses and the trams. In 20" we're at the Van Gogh Museum.
After a mere 30" in line to exchange our vouchers for tickets, we're in and it's well worth it. The Museum was established by Vincent's nephew and namesake, Vincent Wilhelm Van Gogh. VW was the only child of Vincent's beloved brother, Theo, who died shortly after Vincent, leaving his 28 year old wife with an infant son, the namesake. His wife smartly began showing Vincent's paintings and established a brisk business in them. She also kept the family art supply business in Paris going and eventually her son not only took it over but established the forerunner of this magnificent museum.
Photos inside are prohibited, save for this one which we and many other visitors took advantage of.
My own, far less tortured, Vincent!
The collection is stupendous, and we could follow Vincent's development as an artist and his personal growth and subsequent deterioration. Interestingly, his most prolific period was right before his death in Auvers, France while a patient at an asylum there. In a mere 2 months, he painted over 70 paintings, including one done to celebrate the birth of his nephew. Shortly thereafter, he was gone, at 37.
He was also a prolific letter writer, mostly to Theo, and excerpts from his more than 1400 letters are shown throughout the museum. Throughout his life, he loved nature and the common man, the laborers in whom he saw so much nobility. He strived to capture their 'essence' and loved painting their faces, hands, and feet!
After another only slightly less jet-lagged sleep, we're off for our timed entry to the Anne Frank House. Big tip, if you ever go to Amsterdam and want to visit the Anne Frank House, buy a timed entry ticket. Ours was for 10:10 and we went to a special door and were greeted by name! the line to buy tickets stretched as far as the see could see, and the docent said it was about a 3-hour wait!
Again, there was a photo ban so just this one outside:
Everyone knows the story of Anne Frank and some of you may remember the 'story' of several years back when there were allegations of 'editing' on the part of her father which resulted in a kind of expurgated diary. The truth lies somewhere else . . . Anne was a prolific, precocious, articulate child coming of age at what most would agree was one of the worst periods in modern history - certainly the absolute worst time to be a Jew.
She kept several diaries, one for herself, one the template for her book which she hoped to write after the war called 'The Secret Annex' and yet another which she was hoping to get to the Dutch in England who sent out a request via the wireless for any memoirs or diaries kept by people who were still in Holland. Her father, Otto, gave her the first diary on her 13th birthday and it is displayed in the house. She filled that quickly and many, many more until she and the seven others in hiding, along with two helpers who worked for her father, were taken by the Gestapo in August 1944. Anne and her sister Margot, died within weeks of each other in March 1945. Otto Frank was the only one of the family to survive the war.
The tour winds through the rabbit warren of rooms over two floors in which 8 people spent over 2 years. The stairs are perilously steep and narrow; one fellow behind Tim actually lost his footing and fell into Tim on the way up to the third floor. The rooms were left empty; the only mementos are the heartbreaking growth/date lines penciled on the kitchen walls, one for Anne and one for her sister, Margot, showing how much they grew in their two+ years in hiding. We concluded that if the rooms had been furnished, it would be virtually impossible to tour. Photos show how cramped everything was.
To this day, no one knows who betrayed them; the four people in Otto's office staff knew, the warehouse staff did not (Otto owned two small factories which occupied the ground floor). And before the Frank family went into hiding, Otto asked the office staff how they felt about the possibility. To their great credit, they not only agreed but were probably largely responsible for the family's survival for so long. The two men (there were two women as well) were deported with the Frank family and, like Otto, survived the war. The women were the ones who saved all of Anne's papers and returned them to Otto after the war.
No doubt, this neighborhood looks much like it did in Anne's time . . . still beautiful.
I'll leave our afternoon adventure for the next post. For now, we're headed back to our flat and a much-needed meal. Hence Leopold!
Just over the bridge from our flat is a shopping district and a restaurant we passed on our way to and from the market. It's a gorgeous, sunny day and we decide to dine al fresco. Leopold is the proud owner and chef and he tells us he will make us a 'typical Amsterdam meal' - after failing my guttural language primer (can you say hochhachbals?) we agree he will bring us his famous 'balls'.
Oh this is Dutch comfort food! It's a baby meatloaf! Utterly yummy - Leopold is pleased. We did look at the menu and couldn't make heads or tails out of it. He tells Tim he makes one meal a night - a true 'daily special'. The menu is actually a month of meals! Our balls are a staple, apparently always available at lunch. He tells us to let him know by 3pm if we want to come back for dinner as it's frequently booked up.
Next to us is a single fellow, nursing an Amstel and we strike up a conversation (surprise, surprise!). He is so curious because he says this is not a tourist neighborhood; it's all locals. Music to our ears! His daughter studied in the States and we talked about LA and the US for a bit. Compared cultures . . guns are absolutely outlawed in Holland. If you belong to a shooting club, you may register a weapon but must carry the bullets separately and the whole mess in a special carrying case, clearly identified. Our new friend, Heine:
Next post, our walkabout in the Red Light district!
After a mere 30" in line to exchange our vouchers for tickets, we're in and it's well worth it. The Museum was established by Vincent's nephew and namesake, Vincent Wilhelm Van Gogh. VW was the only child of Vincent's beloved brother, Theo, who died shortly after Vincent, leaving his 28 year old wife with an infant son, the namesake. His wife smartly began showing Vincent's paintings and established a brisk business in them. She also kept the family art supply business in Paris going and eventually her son not only took it over but established the forerunner of this magnificent museum.
Photos inside are prohibited, save for this one which we and many other visitors took advantage of.
My own, far less tortured, Vincent!
The collection is stupendous, and we could follow Vincent's development as an artist and his personal growth and subsequent deterioration. Interestingly, his most prolific period was right before his death in Auvers, France while a patient at an asylum there. In a mere 2 months, he painted over 70 paintings, including one done to celebrate the birth of his nephew. Shortly thereafter, he was gone, at 37.
He was also a prolific letter writer, mostly to Theo, and excerpts from his more than 1400 letters are shown throughout the museum. Throughout his life, he loved nature and the common man, the laborers in whom he saw so much nobility. He strived to capture their 'essence' and loved painting their faces, hands, and feet!
After another only slightly less jet-lagged sleep, we're off for our timed entry to the Anne Frank House. Big tip, if you ever go to Amsterdam and want to visit the Anne Frank House, buy a timed entry ticket. Ours was for 10:10 and we went to a special door and were greeted by name! the line to buy tickets stretched as far as the see could see, and the docent said it was about a 3-hour wait!
Again, there was a photo ban so just this one outside:
Everyone knows the story of Anne Frank and some of you may remember the 'story' of several years back when there were allegations of 'editing' on the part of her father which resulted in a kind of expurgated diary. The truth lies somewhere else . . . Anne was a prolific, precocious, articulate child coming of age at what most would agree was one of the worst periods in modern history - certainly the absolute worst time to be a Jew.
She kept several diaries, one for herself, one the template for her book which she hoped to write after the war called 'The Secret Annex' and yet another which she was hoping to get to the Dutch in England who sent out a request via the wireless for any memoirs or diaries kept by people who were still in Holland. Her father, Otto, gave her the first diary on her 13th birthday and it is displayed in the house. She filled that quickly and many, many more until she and the seven others in hiding, along with two helpers who worked for her father, were taken by the Gestapo in August 1944. Anne and her sister Margot, died within weeks of each other in March 1945. Otto Frank was the only one of the family to survive the war.
The tour winds through the rabbit warren of rooms over two floors in which 8 people spent over 2 years. The stairs are perilously steep and narrow; one fellow behind Tim actually lost his footing and fell into Tim on the way up to the third floor. The rooms were left empty; the only mementos are the heartbreaking growth/date lines penciled on the kitchen walls, one for Anne and one for her sister, Margot, showing how much they grew in their two+ years in hiding. We concluded that if the rooms had been furnished, it would be virtually impossible to tour. Photos show how cramped everything was.
To this day, no one knows who betrayed them; the four people in Otto's office staff knew, the warehouse staff did not (Otto owned two small factories which occupied the ground floor). And before the Frank family went into hiding, Otto asked the office staff how they felt about the possibility. To their great credit, they not only agreed but were probably largely responsible for the family's survival for so long. The two men (there were two women as well) were deported with the Frank family and, like Otto, survived the war. The women were the ones who saved all of Anne's papers and returned them to Otto after the war.
No doubt, this neighborhood looks much like it did in Anne's time . . . still beautiful.
I'll leave our afternoon adventure for the next post. For now, we're headed back to our flat and a much-needed meal. Hence Leopold!
Just over the bridge from our flat is a shopping district and a restaurant we passed on our way to and from the market. It's a gorgeous, sunny day and we decide to dine al fresco. Leopold is the proud owner and chef and he tells us he will make us a 'typical Amsterdam meal' - after failing my guttural language primer (can you say hochhachbals?) we agree he will bring us his famous 'balls'.
Next to us is a single fellow, nursing an Amstel and we strike up a conversation (surprise, surprise!). He is so curious because he says this is not a tourist neighborhood; it's all locals. Music to our ears! His daughter studied in the States and we talked about LA and the US for a bit. Compared cultures . . guns are absolutely outlawed in Holland. If you belong to a shooting club, you may register a weapon but must carry the bullets separately and the whole mess in a special carrying case, clearly identified. Our new friend, Heine:
Next post, our walkabout in the Red Light district!
Your posts are so enjoyable, I'll wind up being late to work reading them. Love your writing!
ReplyDeleteOh I'm so glad! I jut love writing them.
ReplyDeleteC.