We ventured into Westerkerk (Western Church), on the Prinsengracht canal, now that it was open. The Dutch Protestant reformed church is white with brown wood, with very little ornamentation. Its high ceilings give way to an impressive organ, and below its stone floors many are buried. Rembrandt and his son, Titus, are buried here, though no one knows where the graves are exactly. A pauper on his deathbed, the once wealthy and famed painter was buried in an unmarked grave with others, unable to afford his own space. A seal on the wall commemorates his entombment in the church floors. The tower is beautiful at almost 260 feet high, but to climb it, you have to pay 7.50 euros, and though I'm sure you'd see impressive views, I wasn't going to fork over the money. Inside the main church sanctuary is a shop selling post cards and other trinkets - apparently they haven't read Matthew 21.
I showed my parents where the Anne Frank house was, so they could get pictures, and so that my dad could let me know how when he visited in the 70's, he didn't have to wait in line or pay to get in. Yes, the good old days, indeed, but as I don't get to benefit from the 70's directly (with the possible exception of flared-bottom jeans), it's just more frustrating to hear how easy everything was then.
We walked down to the Pancake Bakery, where I ate on my first morning, and I got (and LOVED) the sugar with lemon pannekoeken (flat dutch pancake), my father had one with chicken (he would recommend adding cheese), and Derek and my mom went for the Nutella with banana option. Then we came across a lovely farmer's market, the Noordermarkt, which has been providing fresh, local goods to the neighborhood on Saturday mornings since 1987. We walked through and nearly got lost among the cheese and bread shops, people selling lotions and honey and fabric, clothes, fruit and vegetables, oils and nuts...anything and everything you could want. We watched one man whom we were envious of load the basket on his beautiful leather-bound bike and ride off with his treasures. We watched an older man "sample" a handful of olives and sun-dried tomatoes that were NOT for sampling, then come back a second time for more. I wanted to buy the oysters and the eggs and all of the bottles of milk, but hauling the stuff with us for the next week wasn't an option, so we watched the locals crowd around for the best items.
We walked down another street market nearby, this time with people selling items at booths in front of open shops, playing live music and drinking coffee on the street. A man pulled me into his shop by giving me a soap sample and buffing my nails. I've got his card if you're interested! But alas, I wasn't.
Further on to the Oude Kerk in the Red Light District, it had been on our list of places to see. It isn't an active church, and it is MASSIVE, its heavenly symbolism contrasting strongly with the sin-soaked area that encompasses it. It's odd to see the red lights up the alleyways leading to the church (or from the church, depending on your perspective). But, once again we were met with a 10 euro price tag to go inside, and with everything adding up, it didn't seem worth it. Onward to Van Gogh.
You can get discounted tickets in advance, but we hadn't been sure we'd do this museum today, so we paid full price at the door (17 euros, and they do have a senior discount, which my dad failed to ask for, and my mother never let him forget). We arrived around 3 pm, to try and miss the morning crowds. We walked through the self portrait area first - he painted himself a LOT (36 times in 10 years, to be precise, more than almost any other artist - not surpassing Rembrandt, however, but Rembrandt's career lasted significantly longer).
The Van Gogh museum from the adjacent park
Up one level, we saw his early work, a focus on the lives and work of peasants. Van Gogh praised their hard work and envied the unharried nature of their rough lifestyle. He painted them honestly, reflecting their unrefined features and uncomfortable surroundings. His oil painting The Potato Eaters (1885) is remarkable to see in person, and seeing the sketches and models he used to set it up helped the viewer to better understand his perspective and thought process while building the idea of the painting. His early work reflects refinement and talent that looks quite different from his later work with color and bold strokes - you may never be able to recognize these paintings as his unless you know this part of his style well, and I personally had never seen this side of Van Gogh.
Moving to his later works, you see proclaimed masterpieces such as The Bedroom (1888) and the very thoroughly yellow Sunflowers (1889) are posted. My mother told me that she read (through throngs of people who were gathered around Sunflowers as though it were the Mona Lisa) that it was painted with only three shades of yellow...and basically nothing else. I told her that didn't surprise me at all - it looked it. I'm personally not a big fan of this type of his artwork, but the beauty of Van Gogh is that he had several distinct styles, and I was drawn more towards his Almond Blossom (1890) and Small Pear Tree in Blossom (1888). I also loved A Crab on its Back (1887), Shoes (1886), and The Hill at Montmartre with Stone Quarry (1886). Derek liked The Langlois Bridge (1888).
His letters to his brother, with whom he was very close, are on display, and the paintings of his colleagues from Paris, as well as paintings from those inspired by him, are shown on the top floor.
The Van Gogh museum is doing a special exhibition now on Vincent's descent into insanity, following his illness through his paintings, and various letters, notes and newspapers that outlined his decline leading up to, and including, his suicide in 1890. The most interesting part of this to me was his final painting - of bright blue tree roots - which they say was left unfinished. I'm not sure how they can tell it wasn't finished - it looked finished to me. And who's to say whether it wasn't?
After he shot himself in the chest, it took him two days to die, during which time his brother was able to visit. It was odd to me that they found a partially completed letter he had started to his brother in his pocket, but perhaps his inclination to end his life wasn't dependent on finishing the correspondence....perhaps that wasn't something he felt compelled to finish, or even could.
You can see all of the paintings I've mentioned for yourself here. Vincent painted 210 of the paintings housed here, and there are many more of his works abroad - there are even 3 right down the street at the Rijksmuseum, which I saw the very next day.
We needed water (it is severely lacking - very rare to find a water fountain, or a restaurant that will give you tap water, and if they do, most will either charge you for a tiny bottle, or give you a small glass and never refill it), so we tracked down an Aldi (Aunt Jeannie would be proud!) and managed to grab a few (tragically sparkling mineral) water bottles before they closed the doors on us. We sat on a bench outside of the grocery store, eating a chocolate bar and doing our best to change the color of our future urine to not so closely resemble Van Gogh's sunflower painting.
That night, we ate at the fantastic bar across the street from the Heineken Experience, called Cafe Berkhout. The food was GREAT, sophisticated beyond any bar food I've ever had. We walked to find a liquor store (Maslow's hierarchy definitely has room for Cranberry Disaronno drinks after all this walking!) and outside of it found a tiny, ridiculous car, parked with the bike rack. It looked like a Smart Car's baby - like a tiny tiny covered golf cart. Then we went home to enjoy our drinks and work on our plans for our adventure in Belgium, which was quickly approaching.
Wow! You've covered this very well (not surprising)! Did you take notes of the paintings, etc. or did you commit these things to your 29-year-old-brains and recall them later? I was THERE & I don't remember these things! :)
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