The diary of a Scot in Amsterdam

Last week, I went to see a man about a boat, which was almost perfect except perhaps a wee bit too heavy. In the meantime, I had got to hear about another, smaller boat which might suit the job. It belongs to a friend of Astrid’s dad.

Unfortunately he lives in Gorinchem, which is a quite a long way from Amsterdam, by Dutch standards at least. The description I had of the thing was encouraging enough to make the trip though anyway.

There was a little bit of confusion when I rang him to say that I was on the way, since he thought that I was coming tomorrow – it is of course totally possible that I did say that… Thankfully this was not a problem.

And very glad I was that I made the trip, since the boat is absolutely perfect for my film, even better than the other one. If everything goes well, I hope to do the filming in a couple of weeks.

I’ve been out in the Bijlmer this week, an area at the far south-eastern corner of Amsterdam which serves as home to numerous faceless office blocks, as well as a majority non-white residential population. The Grachtengordel seems a long, long way away here.

The reason for my spending about an hour travelling from my house to get here was because I have been doing some work for James Beckett, the artist with whom myself and some other DAI students worked earlier in the year. He’s busy with a major installation, and needed some guys who “know how to use a ratchet properly”. It would seem that I fall into this category.

James’ studio is in an anti-squat property. So is mine, in fact, but this one is on quite a different scale. It’s a 2600m2, five-storey office building which has never actually been used for its original purpose. James is now its only occupant and pays about €70 a month for the privilege. If the economy goes as bad as it apparently is heading, there will perhaps be a lot more of this sort of madness.

The first task was to deal with the delivery of about twenty huge steel-and-glass frames which were arriving from China. Of course, the reason for this was because getting things made over there is still so much cheaper than here, despite the huge transport costs.

Problem is, the supplier had decided to cut some costs by packaging almost everything into one huge but badly-built wooden crate about 3m long and weighing half a tonne. There was some sickening cracking noises as the delivery guy wiggled about with a fork lift buggy trying to get it out of the back of the truck, but thankfully everything inside survived OK.

Before we could get this huge thing out of the car park and away from the rain, there was one small problem to deal with – the automatic barrier at the entrance for which we had no key or other means of opening.

Well actually, no key except a set of Allen keys. With one of these it we swiftly dismantled the (doubtless very expensive) automatic barrier, allowing free passage for our Chinese goodies while passing business folks looked on bemused.

This could come in very handy – with one small hexagonal-shaped piece of metal, you’ve got free parking everywhere.

I’ve been nursing an idea for the last few months for a film that I would like to make. It’s quite closely related to my film with the rolls of carpet, in that it will feature me hauling something heavy across the Dutch countryside. Except this time, it will be a small boat.

Details will be revealed here later!

What I had in mind was the sort of small wooden rowing boat that is commonly found to hire in public parks in the UK. Unfortunately, and quite surprisingly for a nation obsessed with boats, such craft are rarely to be found in the Netherlands. About the smallest boat in common usage are the steel bootjes to be found on the canals, which are generally around 4m long – much bigger than I am looking for. Also, for reasons which will become clear later, it must be wooden.

I was very pleased then to hear that Astrid’s cousin had a little wooden boat that might be suitable. Problem is, he and his family live out in the middle of nowhere. Therefore quite a long trek on the train and bus this evening to see the thing.

Arjan, the man in question, turns out to be a swarthy, friendly bloke who makes his living as a veehandelaar (livestock dealer), who contrary to my past experience with such people did not take exception to me being a vegetarian and an arty type at that. I really felt like some sort of bohemian intruder in his parlour, with wood stove, thick leather-bound bible on the sideboard, and friendly dog, but if he was perturbed by the situation he didn’t show it.

The boat was hidden rather forlornly at the back of the enormous shed attached to the rear of the house, awaiting the springtime and its chance to be used once again. Perhaps it will get a chance earlier than that.

I was pretty pleased with it – looks wise it’s perfect, and only slightly larger and heavier than I would ideally want. There’s lots of practical things to be sorted before I can think about coming round again to borrow it, but I’m pleased to have at least found something that should fit the bill.

There was only one bus an hour back to Utrecht, and even then it’s twenty minutes walk to the bus stop. Arjan kindly gave us a lift there in his livestock truck, a sort of oversized transit van in which sheep and cattle can be transported. As we waved goodbye I asked him how many beasts the thing would hold – “about 6 cows, or 50 sheep” he called back. That’s a whole heap of mutton and burgers.

I see that it is at least two and a half weeks since I have written anything here. Unfortunately my life at the moment is not so very interesting, at least not interesting to read about. I seem to spend the whole time working (I have a lot of earning to do to make up for studying), with very little time aside for other things. For this reason my contributions here might be a bit sparse for the time being; more interesting adventures will lie ahead, hopefully.

After my dad having been here in May, it was the turn of my mum to come and visit me this weekend. It was actually quite a short visit, but all the same good to see her and see this place once again as a tourist.

On Saturday we wandered around the town a bit, visited Astrid working at the Noordermarkt, saw an exhibition at Mediamatic, passed by Eat at Jo’s (my work), and later cooked dinner back at my flat. A long and lazy breakfast followed on Sunday, then lunch in the restaurant at the top of the OBA (Amsterdam’s main library). After this we took a trip to see the Caspar David Friedrich show at the Hermitage. This was a little disappointing in that there were not so very many of his paintings, and it was in any case much too crowded to see things properly.

Soon it was time to head back to Schiphol and say goodbye, although before long it will be Christmas and time to make another trip of my own back to Scotland.

I received an interesting email recently inviting me, along with various other graduates from masters programmes in the Netherlands, for a meeting today at the offices of Uitgeverij 1001, a publishing house based here in Amsterdam. They are interested in doing something in the line of bringing out a new book, but at the moment things are still very much up in the air – basically, we were asked to come along and just have a general discussion about the sort of things that might be interesting topics for a publication.

It was certainly an interesting meeting, although I must say that there were a lot of familiar faces – more than half of those present were former (and one current) DAI students!

After a few hours we were not really too much further forward towards anything concrete, but a lot of very good discussion had taken place. We agreed to go away and think about things for a few months, and perhaps meet again before Christmas.

This type of working is quite a surprising departure from what I would expect from a publishing house, but in fact 1001 Publishers do seek to do things a bit differently. I was very encouraged by the discussions we had, and I really hope that I can be involved in something with them in the future.

After Thursday’s fiddling around getting things to work, today was time for the opening of POST DORDT. I am not usually so very comfortable at art openings, since I generally don’t know what to say to people and feel a bit disconnected from the “art crowd”. Of course, things take on a slightly different perspective as a participant; at least in this case I could feel a bit more involved in what was going on.

The opening took place during a street festival in Dordrecht, on what will probably be one of the last warm, sunny Saturdays of the year. I couldn’t say that it was exactly packed with people, but there was certainly a decent crowd; it must be said that they were perhaps a little older and less hip than the equivalent in Amsterdam, or back in Glasgow for that matter. I guess this may be because there is no art school in town.

Of course, as can be expected, there were very few folks I know from Amsterdam through for the evening, mostly because of the distance but also because tonight was also packed with openings there. It’s the start of the season for this sort of thing.

Afterwards, we were invited to a Chinese buffet in a house further up the street. I had imagined someone’s living room with a table covered in plastic trays of noodles and tubs of satay sticks, but in fact we were treated to the most delicious and enormous meal of (so I am told) mostly Indonesian food, in a house which looked like it must have belonged to the richest family in Dordrecht at some point. Beer and wine were laid on in similarly generous quantities, and even the plastic chairs provided for the little garden party out the back were pretty posh. It seems like there is plenty money in this town.

So, that’s one result from my two years’ of study achieved. Hopefully not too long until the next show.

About a month ago, I received an email inviting me to participate in POST DORDT, a group exhibition showcasing works by graduating students from all the masters programmes in the Netherlands. Naturally I was extremely pleased indeed about this. Since my background before studying at the DAI was in design and not fine art, I have very little experience of taking part in exhibitions, and so this is still something quite new and exciting.

“If I could just take part in one group show, I would be very satisfied”, I whispered to myself earlier this year. Well, the opportunity to do so has come a bit earlier than expected.

As is so often the case with wishes that come true, the details were a little different than how I had imagined. Instead of some gallery or art space in Amsterdam, this exhibition is taking place at the Centrum voor Beeldende Kunst in Dordrecht. This is not exactly the teeming heart of the metropolis, and in fact I had to look it up on the map (it’s to the east of Rotterdam).

I am showing two video works, I your dear friend am in my self undone and Durée, the second of which is actually a series of four short videos. I had thought that this would be fairly straightforward, but in fact it took half the day to find DVD players which would co-operate and to solve various other minor technical problems. In the end it turned out looking pretty good though, and I am looking forward to Saturday’s opening.

Our little holiday in Scotland ended today with another morning in Edinburgh. We made a short visit to the National Museum of Scotland, all the better to increase Astrid’s knowledge (and mine too) of our colourful history. We only really had about an hour, which is of course not enough time to find out all that much.

After this, and some lunch and shopping, it was back to the airport with our heavy luggage and on to the plane home. Despite the fact that we have had a great time here, I am quite looking forward to being back in Amsterdam. Otherwise I would still live here, wouldn’t I?

Our night on the beach passed without disturbance, and we were treated to a beautiful view in the morning of the Moray Firth, unfortunately with no sign of the famous dolphins. Astrid decided to go skinny-dipping in the sea, which must have been quite a surprise for the old ladies who happened to be walking along the path next to the beach at the same time! Of course, following her example I had to do the same. It was actually not so cold, and very refreshing.

After this, we bought some breakfast and sat on the shore wall to eat it, while a seagull was continuously pestered by its young. The things were almost as large as the adult bird, and I was drawn to make comparisons with human children, who continue to be a drain on their parents well past childhood. I was no exception, it must be said.

We then walked around Chanonry Point, past where the Brahan Seer was gruesomely put to death by boiling in tar. Or so the story goes. Finally, we passed my old school, Fortrose Academy; besides the ruins of the cathedral there was not too much else to do in Fortrose.

The weather turned out very nice in the afternoon, which allowed a little bit of sunbathing on the beach. Certainly a nice way to end our time in the Highlands. What was not so nice was the running which we needed to do to catch the bus back to Inverness – it seems I will never learn to be on time for such things.

When we reached Inverness, there was yet more rushing after some idiot in a pizza shop assured me that my pizza would for sure be ready in plenty of time to catch my train. Of course it was not, and I was about to run out of the shop without it when it finally arrived. Hopefully tomorrow’s journey back to the Netherlands will be less stressful.