The diary of a Scot in Amsterdam

The inevitable (in Amsterdam) has happened; my bike has been stolen. Everyone says it’s a matter of when and not if, and when has come for me. I have only myself to blame, in a sense, since I left it on the Warmoesstraat (a pretty dodgy place, also incidentally the street where I work) with only the back wheel lock on, and did not return to pick it up for a day and a half, but all the same it’s so so so annoying, and a replacement expense I could use like a hole in the head.

It’s likely already been painted black and sold for €20 by a junkie to someone else, from whom it will in turn once again be stolen, completing the absurd cycle which seems to just be accepted as normal here. Too stupid for words.

This month’s trip to the DAI in Enschede came rather too soon after my return from the UK, but that’s the way of things when you lead a jet-setting international life of excitement I suppose (I know someone somewhere is probably going to take that last sentence seriously). Home, a few hours sleep, a quick dash to the sorting office to pick up a parcel, then as quick as possible back to Centraal Station just in time to catch the train.

Had some good studio visits which generated some useful and encouraging comments on my work – this is quite important since half the time I don’t have a clue about what I’m doing or if it’s any good. If I was looking for an easy life I guess I’d have become a statistician or something, though.

We are also getting nearer the time when we need to have a concrete plan for our activities in Beetsterzwaag (see earlier post), which is a bit scary. I know bugger all about public art, which is why I wanted to get involved in this project in the first place, but now that the event itself is approaching it really is time to pull the finger out. Myself and Bani have plans for a sort of virtual/pretend art museum for the town, for which we will produce all associated literature, advertisements, gift items, etc, in fact everything but the museum itself. It remains to be seen if the residents of the village will find this amusing.

On Friday we paid a visit to the Rijksmuseum Twente (also in Enschede), to visit a showing of work by the painter Ben Akkerman. A very nice show as it happened, but what was really special is that the old man himself had agreed to come and talk with us. Apparently his making a public appearance is very very rare indeed, since he is extremely old and frail.

He had some interesting things to say about painting, particularly in light of the fact that for a large part of his career he combined working for the Civil Service with producing art. Something of an eye-opener for us young types moaning about having to work as well as make art! He’s also quite witty, despite his physical condition; my favourite of his comments was when he was asked why all of his pieces are “zonder titel” (untitled). He replied “well, it’s just a painting, no?”.

Oh, and the parcel I had to pick up on Monday was quite cool – a wide angle adapter for my camera. What this basically does is let you take pictures of a space, room, etc. and get much more of the view into the picture, in fact closer to what you see with your eyes. This distorts the picture a bit, but this distortion itself can be quite nice. Some early results below!

I was back in Glasgow at the weekend. I had really been looking forward to seeing folks I’d not seen since leaving for the Netherlands, but unfortunately my illness from last week did not clear up but instead got much worse, and as a result I ended up spending the whole time sleeping or curled up on the sofa under a blanket at Laura’s house, which was certainly not what I had planned. Rick, Irene and Raymond came over for the weekend, so in fact the house was overwhelmed with Dutch people; this was because Laura had been involved in organising a gig/night on Friday to raise money for Martin Shields who has been really ill. I wasn’t well enough to go, but by all accounts a good time was had. I guess it just means I have a good reason for coming over the next time there is a good party in Glasgow!

Was feeling a bit better on Monday, so had a wander round the West End. Since I’ve been away the Kibble Palace has reopened – it’s looking pretty nice as can be seen. Kelvingrove has also reopened, but unfortunately I didn’t have time to check it out.

I’ve been in Edinburgh since Monday, and went up to Perth on Tuesday so see the grandparents; I didn’t get a chance to see them at Christmas so of course it was good to see the old dears.

I’m off back to Scotland for a week tomorrow, and as luck would have it I have caught the cold really bad. I’m trying to take the advice my mother would probably give and wrap up warm, stay inside, and take lots of vitamin C. Not really helping much yet, though, and the prospect of getting on an aeroplane is not so appealing.

But look! It’s snowing outside! Really the best sort of time to be inside under a blanket with a cup of tea, watching the city turn white.

I’d heard about an event this evening at the Stedelijk Museum CS which sounded interesting. The American textile artist Sheila Hicks was to be launching a book of her work produced in collaboration with the Dutch graphic designer Irma Boom, which seemed worth going to in particular because before graduating from the DAI next year we need to produce a book(let) of our work; this sort of brick-like volume detailing a lifetime of work was clearly in a different league altogether, but all the same a good source of inspiration.

Having left with plenty time to spare I was looking forward to not being late for once, but this was not to be. The usual daytime entrance to SMCS was closed, with no indication of where to go, so I took the lift up to 11 on the, well, 11th floor. No sign of it there. Back down again, back up again, and it was actually there, just right at the back behind an almost invisible door and without any signs. Still seats left, thankfully.

I wouldn’t say that I was madly in love with Hicks’ work itself (though it’s interesting enough), but the book is really something special. They were selling copies for €39 at the event, which is a hell of a lot, but since it was so lovely and I had just picked up my wages of a staggering €85 from the Sláinte I couldn’t help myself. It’s really a piece of art in itself, with tactile, fabric-like edges on the pages due to them not being trimmed off, and some very thoughtful typography. Here it is.

Hicks was signing copies, of course, and it only seemed right to get her to write something in mine. I’ve never been to such an event before, and I have to say it’s all a bit strange. I mean, all these grown adults pushing and shoving each other out of the way to get something signed by someone they have likely never met before, and of course asking for some sort of dedication as well. “Dear Bobby, lots of luck, never give up, love Sheila” or something.

I stood in line just the same, though. Perhaps my great-grandchildren will be able to sell it on eBay (or its 22nd century equivalent) and retire off the proceeds, bless their little capitalist hearts.