The Rijks Museum is big. It is especially rich in Dutch paintings including Vermeers and Rembrants. His Night Watch is a large painting that draws large crowds. Men in black lug heavy spears and go this way or that, all in service to their civic duty. This and a few similar paintings have long served as an inspiration when tasked with photographing a large group: individuals interacting in subgroups form a dynamic large composition which somehow manages to appear balanced and spontaneous. Van Leiden was one of many artists who relished the chance to show the devil's workshop at its worst. Here grotesque fiends mete out bizarre forms of corporal punishment.The sinners in Judgement Day could be you or me, but stripped of all clothing and facing the most monstrous torments. Under a bit less duress are the survivors of a Low Country flood depicted in a 15th Century painting. A dyke broke and thousands died. I was particularly taken by cows barely able to keep their nostrils above water. I was pleased to find a room largely devoted to the Dutch naval hero Michiel de Ruyter, as I had recently seen a fine Dutch movie, The Admiral, about his exploits and politically motivated death.
Our last day in Amsterdam saw us walking the town. Helen had decided to see the exterior of the Anne Frank house, knowing that tour tickets had sold out. She set out purposefully and I set out a bit later heading in a different direction. We both got lost. I meandered into an enclosed community - not quite a convent - of seriously chaste single women, while Helen strayed into the red-light district and took in quite a display of wanton comehitherness. Somehow we met up near the Anne Frank house which, protected by an outer shell could from the street not be seen at all.
A week before leaving the US, I approached a man I overheard talking about Amsterdam. He encouraged a visit to the Rijks Museum (already top of the list) but bemoaned the influx of Muslims causing civic and financial stresses. I recognized his mindset yet expected to see something that might have bothered him. I did not. I saw a range of skin colors but people were gainfully employed and there was a palpable tone of contentment. We spent our time entirely in the center city of Amsterdam but I am now writing from Prague, having spent couple days in Germany. During our brief layover at the Hamburg train station we were besieged for money several times and in Leipzig were also confronted with begging. Even so, there was no reason to think these people were Muslims or immigrants. In Leipzig we did encounter small groups of singers with piercing outdoor voices whom Helen and I both thought were probably gypsies, or as they're called in Ireland: "traveling people".
Our last evening in Amsterdam was graced by the appearance of Bart Visser, who while studying at Rutgers became a fiend of the family and practically a brother to Will. Bart and Will, both young scientists, shared a love of biking and hiking the great outdoors. Bart is now also well employed about 90 minutes south of Amsterdam and continues to travel widely. Indeed Bart strikes me as both a probing scientist and gracious diplomat.
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