The good news came about as predicted within a couple of weeks. Just when some other, even better tiding, knocked on barn’s door. The area where we had bought our second farm was near a village that was set and artificially kept in the 1800’s. It is called Orvelte and is a museum village. Some of the people living there were artists on the Government salary but, as they were given an old farm-house as well as a salary, also expected to produce art sympathetic to the bygone era of horse-carts, peat cutting, thatching, smithing of horse shoes, thrashing of hay and each other. Each Saturday afternoon there would be a village dance which tourists in strange shorts would photograph with large cameras and even larger lenses.
Our daughters, Susanna and Natasha, being enrolled in the local school. (their second Dutch school) quickly made friends. Both started to speak fluent Dutch at an astonishing speed. Through those friends we met some parents including a couple that lived in Orvelte and who made pottery. The pottery was in keeping with this historic village. Good solid salt-glazed stoneware. We bought a set of cups & saucers, a bulky vase, wine goblets and large serving dish. None have broken so far. The potter and his wife made a living from the potters wheel and also enjoyed the Government Artist salary. It turned out he was as fed up with his conveyer belt production of stone pottery as I was with the previous clock dials with seagulls in endless flight.
The potter and his wife soon joined another couple whereby the husband claimed to be a sculptor. He even managed to get the local shire to put up signage along the village roads pointing to his house with studio. When I visited him and after introduction asked if he would be so kind as to show me some of his work, he obliged. He showed me a glass case with a lid behind which he kept some drawings of work he had done at The Art Academie years before. And that was that! Not a single work, not even a block of stone or lump of clay laying about. He normally charged an entrance fee to tourists to see his drawings inside this glass case with a lid. When he spotted my Kombi he quickly asked me if I would be so kind to pick up a wardrobe somewhere. I did. Helvi wasn’t impressed. But I explained he did not charge me to look at his drawings.
Even so we needed friends and invited them for an afternoon. He ate all of our peanuts. He must have been so hungry. His hand kept throwing those nuts back into his tilted upward mouth. It is strange how those memories keep sticking. I mean we did not mind the peanut frenzy, but were just somewhat surprised. Heaven knows what others make of us? “Gerard is really weird and strange”, they could well whisper behind closed doors!
Another couple we tried to befriend was a printmaker. I knocked on his door. He just poked his red face through a window and asked what I wanted. I explained we were from Australia seeking friendship. “I am an artists too”, I said bravely while nodding affirmatively and somewhat conspiratorially. “Oh,” he said without hesitation, ” I am having a fight with my wife”, “I can’t see you.” He slammed the window shut. Marital fights in Holland are just as prevalent as anywhere. Just because they ride bikes, eat herrings and live abstemious lives, doesn’t mean they don’t suffer marital whiplash at times. It is universal.
We did keep a few couples as friends including the potter couple of stone-ware. He worked as a part time teacher and informed me the school for adult education was looking for a teacher in the creative arts especially painting and drawing. I got the job. This was the other good news I was alluding to at the beginning of this piece. But that wasn’t the end of happy and more happy! I won a commission to make a mural for a yet to be built school in the small town where my daughters attended school. This town is named Westerbork.
It all came good.
Tags: Kombi, Orvelte, painting, peanuts, Potter, printmaker, sculptor, Stone-ware, Thrashing
August 10, 2015 at 8:22 am |
A satisfying time in your life, it seems!
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August 10, 2015 at 10:09 am |
Yes, it was. We were young.
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August 10, 2015 at 9:44 am |
Maybe he ate all her herrings.
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August 10, 2015 at 10:09 am |
That is possible. They had a herring fight. I reckon the fish slapping in the UK was taken from Holland during the 1928-1932 herring-war between Scheveningen and Volendam. It was before the afsluitdijk was built and Volendam still had an open sea to catch herrings in.
This herring-war was nothing compared to the earlier one..
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_the_Herrings
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August 10, 2015 at 10:02 am |
Gerard you make me laugh…the things that stick in your head are so amusing. What nutters!
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August 10, 2015 at 10:17 am |
Yes, but I think normality doesn’t get remembered at all. We should all aspire to be nuts. The world would be a better place.
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August 10, 2015 at 10:57 am |
“We should all aspire to be nuts.” Hahahaha well said. Kind of nut like Groucho Marx. “Humor is reason gone mad”
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August 10, 2015 at 10:19 pm |
Glad you think so too.
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August 10, 2015 at 11:54 am |
Sounds like you had some colorful neighbors. They make for great memories and storytelling around the dinner table. Glad you got the job!
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August 10, 2015 at 10:18 pm |
Yes, I did get the job teaching adults. It was a great job and I still have contact with one of the students, a very good friend and now an established artist.
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August 10, 2015 at 10:25 pm
That’s cool you still keep in contact.
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August 10, 2015 at 4:55 pm |
Very entertaining. I have decided not to become an artistic type. Too late in life to affect a bow tie or cravat.
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August 10, 2015 at 10:16 pm |
😉 What about a pipe and looking pensively?
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August 10, 2015 at 6:24 pm |
Is your mural still there. Gerard? Do you have any pictures of it?
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August 10, 2015 at 10:15 pm |
I don’t know if it is still there. I did find a b/w picture of the mural just now and shall post it next time..
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August 11, 2015 at 5:07 am |
I must say this was pretty generous of him not charging you for having a look at his drawings! 🙂
And he liked peanuts? Well, I wonder, how he would have managed with all the peanuts at Raffles Hotel in Singapore? I reckon this place would have made him really happy. To go with his Singapore Sling he could have gone forever shelling peanuts, popping them into his mouth and throwing the shells on the floor! 🙂
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August 11, 2015 at 5:19 am |
“Monday, 10th of August, 2015
We just booked another trip to Berlin for a family reunion, meaning in ten months we are going to be in Berlin with a lot of family members. We are already very excited about this!
The other day we booked a train-trip to Melbourne and return to Dapto. This means, this coming Friday we are going to take the day- train to Melbourne, where we are going to stay with our son Martin. On Monday we travel back home on the Sydney night-train. We are getting off at Moss Vale. From Moss Vale there is a railway bus that takes us down Macquarie Pass to our home-town, Dapto, where we arrive early on Tuesday morning
We are thinking of visiting the Nan Tien Temple some time after our return from Melbourne. We have not been at the temple for quite some time and are very much looking forward to experiencing again its calm and peaceful surroundings.”
Hi Gerard, I wrote the above in my post on Monday. Please, let us know whether any day next week would suit you for a visit to Nan Tien Temple! 🙂
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August 11, 2015 at 6:52 am
Yes, that would be a nice Uta, and I have e-mailed you with some details. We have never been there. A majestic piece of architecture.
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August 11, 2015 at 6:55 am |
Our peanuts were shelled. He really liked them. In Argentina they also have a peanut eating culture with the throwing of shells on the floor.
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August 11, 2015 at 11:55 am |
You are so right about the funny things which stick in our memories. Like your peanut eating guest, I once had somebody over for coffee who put four teaspoons of sugar in her cup. And stirred. And then added two more. I was amazed! Also, isn’t it incredible how quickly youngsters can learn a new language? We had Dutch people move into our neighborhood twenty years ago whose youngest child spoke not a word of English. Within months, she was chattering away accent-free.
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August 11, 2015 at 10:26 pm |
Language is so easy for children–I think they have flexible tongues. I loved the concept of the museum town. Very interesting. I laughed aloud when reading about your going to visit the “sculptor”. I wonder if he ever resolved his fight with his wife? You have had such an interesting life Gerard. I feel privileged to be able to share in visiting it.
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