Goededag!
It rained when I came home yesterday. It rained hard all night. I breakfasted to the sound of pouring rain. I’m trying hard to stay positive.
I went to Den Haag today—that’s The Hague to you non-Dutch. The first time I visited the Netherlands long ago, we stayed near the Hague in Scheveningen, and spent days exploring the Hague. It’s a beautiful, gracious city, not merely the true seat of the Dutch monarchy, but the site of the World Court and many European Union institutions. I had visions of myself strolling the broad avenues and lovely parks. Nope.
What I got was driving rain, wind, and cold. I wish I had brought a jacket, as my cotton sweater has proved inadequate, but the truth is for the past ten years, I haven’t needed more than a sweater.
The adventure started when I went downstairs to get groceries and discovered I was locked in. Someone shot the extra bolt home. I eventually figured out how to unlock it, but I had a picture of being trapped until I could call the proprietor to come and liberate me.
By the time I got to the train station, my slacks were already soaked. I wore the tan slacks, which are made out of some kind of Elvish material that dries off during the train ride. I had some hopes, since I was going south, that the rain might slack off, but in fact the storminess was worse!
I fought my way against the wind to the historic center. My first stop was the Mauritshuis. This elegant eighteenth century mansion belonged to one of the cousins of the Princes of Orange and now holds a world-class art collection. The problem is that while one waits in line for tickets, one appears on video. Ugh! The only reason I recognized myself was my clothes. It’s one of those cases where one has to keep checking to see if it’s as awful as you thought. Yes. It was.
The house, apart from the art, would be worth visiting on its own. The walls are covered in richly colored silk, and plaster moldings adorn the ceilings. The staircases are broad and grand.
My technique for visiting a museum is to scamper up the stairs as quickly as possible to the top floor while the rest of the tourists mill around below. As a result I got to the Vermeer room before it was packed.
First to meet my eye was Vermeer’s wonderful View of Delft. When I showed it to my students, at first some thought it was a photograph rather than a painting, but it is in fact a miracle of the painter’s art and optical illusion. I was able to examine it from different angles and distances. When I got up close with my little pink nose nearly on the canvas Vermeer’s technique was revealed. He doesn’t paint objects. He paints the light on them.
On the opposite wall is the Girl with the Pearl Earring, so popular now and so often reproduced as to have become a cliché. Yet the painting is marvelous! Her eyes follow you around the room, and she looks so intelligent and alive. Also on exhibit is a mythological painting. Compared to his deceptively simple, genre works, this one while pretty seemed bland to me.
The Mauritshuis holds a collection of Rembrandt’s works that matches that of the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. You can also find Rubens, a lot of delightful genre works from the Golden Age, and lovely land and seascapes. I also enjoyed works by Holbein and Bruegel. So it was worth it to come.
I emerged into the storm and took a quick look around the Binnenhof or Inner Court where the Estates General or Dutch Parliament meets. Few of us tourists were around. I saw one dismal looking tour group splashing through the courtyard.
By that time I was chilled and wet, and I had had enough. But I was disappointed. There were other things I wanted to see, but they were too far away to get to in that weather. Unlike bustling Amsterdam, Den Haag on Sunday is shut down, and the sensible people were at home with their green tea and Kindles. I sloshed back to the train station.
Sitting on the upper deck on the way home, I was treated to views over the countryside—incredibly green! I even saw some real windmills working in the midst of open country, so they weren’t part of tourist traps.
I was glad to get home and out of my wet clothes. I enjoyed a hot meal--more pasta this time with mozzarella and sun-dried tomatoes with some dark Belgian beer to the sound of rain and rain and more rain on my windows.
Dag
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