Sensemaking.blog

It has been brought to my attention that my previous post ‘Dead as a Dodo’ was a little on the sad and gloomy side. In my defence, it was November, and, after all, world affairs had by no means taken a turn for the better. But I’ve been very busy these past weeks trying to find a bit of light, even a glimmer of hope, to serve as inspiration for a next blog post. Believe it or not, I’m actually quite a happy, bubbly sort of person, really. But, just like many of my fellow humans, I can be quite susceptible to the winter months, particularly the grey and wet ones of which little old Holland seems to have an overabundance. But, I’m glad to say that my efforts have finally paid off. It’s my own Christmas miracle, immaculate conception, and (to balance things out evenly), Big Bang, all rolled into one! I’ve found my perfect muse to conquer those dreary days: David Hockney.

It should have occurred to me from the outset. I have a reproduction of his 1967 A Bigger Splash painting hanging in my living room (the colours have faded just a bit, but it’s still a happy picture). And David has even got me reading again (I might finish the Goodreads challenge after all, not that that’s the point, obviously). Let me pause for a moment to say that I am very grateful to all the streaming services for aiding and abetting me over these past weeks of gloomy introspection and accompanying procrastination. I am equally grateful to have finally managed to find the ‘off’ button (for now).

The book I’m talking about has been on my shelf for a couple of years now (and had since moved to my trolley-of-new-books-yet-to-be-read): it’s called ‘Spring cannot be cancelled’ by David Hockney and Martin Gayford. It’s a very pretty book, which I think lured me to it in the first place (it has lots of pictures!). For a large part it’s compiled of David’s correspondence and artwork, and Martin’s reflections. It spans the lock-down period. My conclusion so far: It is a much-needed, book-formed comfort blanket filled to the brim with witty observations and multi-coloured inspiration based on decades, even centuries, of worldly art and personal life experience (I think I should start writing rambling book blurbs for a living). Word of warning: I’m only halfway into the book, but as I have also officially designated David to be the poster boy of my whole blog site (I hope he doesn’t mind), I expect he’ll feature in future posts as well.

David Hockney is someone to aspire to. We can’t all be David, of course, he is very much his own man. Take, for instance, his work ethic. I hear he is still working as hard as ever at the ripe old age of 87! On page 76 of Spring cannot be cancelled, I read that he used to have a note hanging in his bedroom cum studio (this was when he was still a struggling artist) that reads ‘GET UP AND WORK IMMEDIATELY’. In contrast: I have a print hanging on my bedroom wall of a girl lying flat on her stomach with the subtitle: ‘NOPE.’. It was made by illustrator Gemma Correll,’ and I’m sure she won’t mind me posting this picture if I tell you that you can still buy this particular print (and many others!) from her website. It even comes as a greeting card. (Perhaps not to be used as this year’s Xmas card, but I’m sure you’ll find some other good reason for sending it to one of your loved ones). I adore her website, btw, it is very uplifting!  

Egged on by David, I made plans ‘to be inspired’ last (particularly dreary) Friday. I assembled all my courage (and all the pieces of waterproof clothing I could find), and ventured outside. Due to gale-force winds, it took me three times as long as usual on my trusty green steed (bike) to finally arrive at my desired destination. I went to the Kunstmuseum, because it was currently showing the most colourful exhibition I could find within a 2 km radius of my home. And boy, was I in for a treat (literally): I went to Grand Dessert -The history of the dessert, guest-curated by none other than the Dutch Mary Berry, Janny van der Heijden. As a non-baker, this is exhibition was very much out of my comfort zone. But, taking a note from David’s colourful approach to life, I visited it anyway. On opening the exhibition doors I was greeted by Barbie-pink rooms filled with items (and I quote bits of the exhibit description here) ‘from baking tins to recipe books, dinner services to cutlery, ice cream moulds to menus, and much, much more’.

Personally, I’m more of a painting/art installation person myself, but I could see the obvious attraction. Especially for baking-lovers, old people, and their grandchildren. The last two groups (old people and children) made up the overwhelming majority of visitors. Running around in their colourful outfits and with their sugar-high energy levels, you’d be forgiven for thinking the children themselves were part of the exhibition. But, I was far more disturbed by the old people (or, as I like to call them, the wheeley-walking-frame-gang) as they Max Verstappen-ed their way to and from exhibits. As I tried to avoid full-out collision with one of these charming ladies, I swear I heard her muttering a few expletives under her breath that would have made even Max blush.

I did learn a few things, though! It didn’t really register before but we Dutch are apparently a bit snobby when it comes to serving cake as dessert. I personally think we are just jealous because our English-speaking neighbours (and French-speaking, for that matter) bake much better cakes than we do. Another small observation that only registered with me after having visited this exhibition (not sure if it has much purpose in the scheme of things): ‘Stressed is desserts spelled backwards’. Will leave you to contemplate that one on your own. And, my third lesson of the day: sugar cubes can be used for all sorts of things besides sweetening your tea or coffee. Meet Sugar Cube Man (my own made-up title). It’s actually a loaned art work called Untitled (Self-Portrait) by Tom Friedman, which I stumbled upon in one of the back-rooms of the exhibition.

After all that sweetness, and since it would probably still be pouring it down outside, I thought I’d take the opportunity to go to one more exhibition on show at the Kunstmuseum: Dirk Braeckman – Léon Spilliaert: Night Wanderers. This exhibition, full of varying shades of blacks and greys, proved the perfect way to cleanse the palate after overindulging on all that sugar and sweetness from downstairs (I think the museum curators did that on purpose). I was especially drawn to Léon Spilliaert’s (1881 – 1946) early 20^th century drawings of Oostende, a beach town in Belgium depicting endless seascapes, desolate beaches, empty streets, and the lonely promenade. I was, in fact, a bit overwhelmed by how much Spilliaert’s paintings moved me (I not only bought the accompanying exhibition guide, but also a book with his works expressing ‘atmospheric loneliness by the sea’).

Acknowledging the fact that ending my morning with reflections on loneliness and emptiness somewhat defeated my original purpose of injecting colourful happiness into my day, I decided to finish my outing at the museum café. In true David Hockney spirit (he is known for his love of food), and in tribute to the dessert exhibition I’d just been to, I had myself a large slice of overly delicious carrot cake.