Amsterdam
Today is my one full day to soak up as much Amsterdam culture as I can, and to enjoy the sunshine and warm temperature that locals have been enjoying for the past week or so. I hope my blabbering on about the “almost-lost” passport wasn’t too much to lay on everyone, but getting it out sure helped me get over the incident.
After coffee and Danish pastry in my hotel room (purchased on the way back from last night’s wandering), I jump on the tram across the street from the hotel and another tram from Centraal Station, to the southern section of the city and the gathering of cultural institutions at the Museumsplein. In addition to the Amsterdam Concert Hall, this park-like setting contains the Rijksmuseum, famous for its collection of Rembrandts and other Dutch artists of the past, the Stedelijk, the recently remodeled museum of modern and post-modern arts and crafts, and the Van Gogh Museum, which is most well-known for the long lines waiting to enter.
The Stedelijk recently reopened after a major period of remodeling and building. The new addition, known to locals as “the bathtub,” was recently given a long negative critique by the architecture critic of the New York Times. In the context of its relationship to the original museum, however, the building manages successfully to blend the old with the new and provide much-needed additional display space. Yes, the building does look like an antique polished bathtub with a turned-out rim around the top; but also, yes, the building fits perfectly into its context. The collection itself almost rivals the Museum of Modern Art in New York and is arranged in three sections: art from Van Gogh to the 1960s, art from 1960 onward, and design and crafts from the turn of the 20th century to the turn of the 21st. The building also contains a delightful restaurant that leaks out (to continue the bathtub theme) from the lobby to the grounds of the park outside. The service at the restaurant is particularly 21st century: the waitpersons tap their orders into small handheld computers right at the table and almost before you finish ordering, the first round of food and drinks is delivered by someone else.
After lunch the line at the Van Gogh Museum is still much too long, especially with large tourist buses disgorging their contents at the head of the line. So instead I renew my acquaintance with Rembrandt and his cronies at the Rijksmuseum. I remember vividly visiting for the first time in the summer of 1968 and feeling the incredible effect of “The Night Watch” waiting at the far end of a long hallway full of other Rembrandt masterpieces; the gold and yellow uniform alive and shining from the canvas. The effect of the painting and its presentation in the museum still works exactly as before. Outside the rear of the museum is a temporary exhibit of whimsical contemporary sculpture; in the front is a display of monumental works by Henry Moore.
Start of Rant: Why do people insist on having their pictures
taken in front of works of art? I can
understand wanting a miniature of a painting or statue—although a postcard
would be more vivid—but what egotism drives people to put themselves in the
picture? This, of course, happens all
around the globe; except in Greece, where it is against the law to take a
picture of a work of art with a human being in the picture. You are allowed to take pictures of the art
by itself, but not the work defaced by the presence of people. And the guards in museums are pretty serious
about enforcing this. End of Rant.
After dropping some Euros in the gift shop, I take the tram back to Dam Square and De Bijenkorp (the beehive) Department Store, Amsterdam’s equivalent of Bloomingdale’s. It’s a good place to have my eyeglasses adjusted and to have an early dinner in the rooftop restaurant. In the countries of Northern Europe, department stores and museums are always good bets for interesting and varied meals, offering self-service at a reasonable price.
It’s
been a beautiful (but very warm) day and I am stuffed with food and sated with
culture. Unfortunately I still have to
rearrange my suitcases for tomorrow morning’s departure on the Prinsendam. As I mentioned in the most recent blog entry,
the Mowenpick Hotel is right next to
the cruiseport. When I wake up in the
wee hours (about 3am) to take a wee, I pause to look out the window just as the
Prinsendam is pulling up to the dock
next to the hotel. Quite a coincidence,
since she is not supposed to arrive in Amsterdam until 8am. But perhaps I’m still sleeping in bed and
this has just been a dream. More to come
. . .
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