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Musée de Moyen Âge – Cluny

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If you had asked me last week what was my favourite museum that I have ever visited – I would have answered the Musée de Moyen Âge (aka The Cluny Museum) in Paris. I’d been here twice before, and they have such a fabulous collection of medieval decorative artefacts all displayed in a gorgeous medieval building… it was always just a magical place to visit. In fact, The MET Cloisters in New York always felt a bit like it was trying to be this museum. The entrance to the Musée de Moyen Âge, as I remember it…

Let’s just say – it’s changed… A LOT. They’ve modernised. A medieval museum. For some unknown reason (likely something to do with getting people enthused and interested to come visit, and see really old things, and make it feel more interactive and more accessible to people* without any background or education in the Middle Ages) and well, to be completely honest, it feels like the entire place has lost its soul. (*notably: accessible to French speaking people – there was a map in various languages, and usually one large display board in French and English in each room, but most of the information plaques on individual objects were in French only). The entrance to the Musée de Moyen Âge as it is now:

Which is all very sad, but I tried to keep it to myself. Anyway, I was determined to see what I could and take as many pics as I could because fuck knows, you don’t see anything like this back home, ever. Downside of the no English plaques, is that I could only glean tidbits of information on the objects as I was looking at them; upside is that this prompted me to photograph a lot of the plaques so I could have a crack at translating them in Google later. So for some of these pics, there is going to be a bunch of info… and for others – none at all!

STUFF:

Pyxis (box) with scenes from the Life of Christ.
Byzantine Empire, early 6thC. Ivory bas-relief.
Resurrection of Lazarus, healing of the paralytic at Copernaum and of the man born blind, encounter with the Samaritan woman.

Christ in Majesty Known as the “Trébizonde Christ”.
Contantinople, early 6thC
Elephant Ivory bas-relief
Christ sits on a throne under a canopy, between St Peter, St Paul and two angels. On the lower register, angels walk towards a cross. This central plate of a large diptych (orginally from the collection of Martin le Roy), then of Marque de Vasselot), illustrates a moment in history when models from classical Antiquity were subtly adapted to Christian Byzantine iconography.

Liturgical Strainer with the name of St Albinus of Angers.
Frankish Kingdom. Late 6thC. Nielloed sliver and Rajasthani garnet (India).

Fibulae brooches. Frankish Kingdom 6th-7thC.
Gilded silver, gold, garnet and glassware. From the Abbey of Clairvaux, (Aubre, France).
Pin was discovered in the tomb of Guillaume de Joinville, archbishop of Reims (1219-1226).

Arcy-Sainte-Restitue site. Two multifoiled cloisonné fibulae (brooches). Guilted silver, garnet, cast glass.

Fibulae inthe form of an eagle and belt-buckle plate.
Visigothic Kingdom, late 6th century. Gilded bronze, garnet and cast glass.
From Castel in Valence d’Argen (Tarn-et-Garrone, France). These two items probably comes from the same burial site. Both the stylised eagles come with compartmental decor and raised dots on the surface of the belt buck plate (with Indian garnet) are characteristic of Visigothic Art. The eagle motif is frequen in the early medieval kingdoms, which were receptive to the Imperial Roman symbolism of this bird of prey.

Diptych. England – 8th century (left) Italy (rigth). 10thC. Elephant ivory
From the treasury of the cathedral of Beauvais (Oise, France)
The re-use of these plates sculpted on both sides resulted in the levelling of the obverse side, where scenes of the life of Christ in an insular style (from the British Isles) can still be deciphered. The reverse sides feature exotic or imaginary animals amidst foliage framed by acanthus leaves. This second phase of sculptural work could be from a workshop in the Southern Alps.

Altar front of the Basel Cathedral. Fulda or Bamberg? (present-day Germany), 1st quarter of the 11th century Repoussé and stamped gold on oak core, precious stones, pearls, glassware From the treasury of the cathedral of Basel (Switzerland)
This antependium used to decorate the front of an altar. Five arcades stand out against a background of foliage with birds and four-legged creatures. Each one hosts a holy figure: Christ surrounded by the archangels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, and Saint Benedict (founder of the Benedictine rule), who is glorified by the inscription. At the feet of Christ kneel Holy Roman Emperor Henri Il, who commissioned this antependium for the cathedral of Basel, and his wife, Kunigunde. Detail below:

Treasure of Guarrazar – Visigothic Kingdom, 7 century
Gold, sapphire, emerald, amethyst, rock crystal, jasper. pearls and mother-of-pearl
From La Fuente de Guarrazar, near Toledo (Spain)
These votive crowns are ex votos. Chains holding crosses and pendants used to hang from them. These pendant letters (the R is on display here) spell the name of two donors. One of them was Visigoth King Receswinth, who reigned in Toledo from 653 to 672. These crowns were probably royal offerings to the cathedral of Toledo. The archaeological discovery of the treasure (now split between the Musée de Cluny and the Museo Arqueológico Nacional de Madrid revealed one of the most important finds of the medieval Iberian period.

Christian motifs in Coptic art- Derived from Aiguptios in Greek and then qibt in Arabic, the word “Copt” defines the Christian civilization of Egypt, from the official birth of Christianity in Egypt (Edict of Thessalonica, 383). In artistic expression, a remarkable syncretism is revealed between pagan and Christian iconography. On the tapestries, Dionysus can be seen alongside a bowed character and the patterns of the patted cross and Chi-Rho (christogram) appear. The liturgical braid, depicting an archangel, the Visitation and Zechariah, is a rare piece of Coptic embroidery.
Egypt 5-6thC Wool and linen

Themes related to the Greek god, Dionysus were regularly depicted on ornamental tapestries for clothing, as shown here on two fragments of shawls. The kantharos is an accessory of the god of wine and ecstasy, closely linked to the art of theatre and poetry. The son of a slain mothe (Semele, struck down by a jealous Hera), saved by his father (Zeus, who carried him to term sewn into his thigh), Dionysus also embodies, in a certain way, the idea of bursting forth from beyond the grave.
Choosing Dionysiac themes for clothing linked to the afterlife was therefore probably not without symbolism in the Coptic world.
Tapestries with kantharoi, Egypt, 4th century, Linen and wool

Casket with mythological and battles scenes, casket plaque with a warrior.
Constantinople, late 10-early 1F century Bone bas-relief (on a core of wood for the casket)
About 1000, Byzantine bone carvers created caskets with secular themes inherited from classical Antiquity, especially legendary battles or circus games. This casket stands out by the quality of its sculpture and the fact that it is complete.
It used to belong to Frédéric Spitzer, a major 19 -century collector.

Two oliphants – fragmentary with animal frieze; decorated with an animal frieze, the Ascension and Saints. Southern Italy, 12thC, elephant ivory.
From the abbeys of Saint-Pierre-Saint-Paul of Bèze (Côte d’Or, France) and Saint-Arnoul of Metz (Moselle, France). Taking its shape from its material, an elephant tusk, the oliphant is first and foremost a horn. In the Middle Ages, oliphants were often associated with legendary facts, such as the death of the hero in the Song of Roland. The luxurious quality of this type of object made it enter church treasuries as relics. This is the case of this one in Metz (which used to be part of the collection of Frédéric Spitzer), known as the “horn of Charlemagne”.

Panels of the window of the Life of saint Benedict – Monks witness the ascension of saint Benedict
Ornamental border
Ile-de-France, 1140-1144, coloured glass, grisaille, lead. From the abbey church of Saint-Denis (Seine-Saint-Denis, France), ambulatory chapel.
Two monks witness the ascension to heaven of Benedict, their brother, who just passed away. The scene represents the final episode of a stained glass ensemble devoted to the life of saint Benedict, the founder of the Benedictine Order. It was placed inside of geometric panels (here, two half-medallions), at the top of a window. Each window consists of different scenes, juxtaposed and superimposed on one another, framed by an ornamental border of. varying lengths and widths. This sort of organization will endure for a century.

Two colonnettes and three sections of colonnettes
Colonnette: spiral strips decorated with acanthus leave bases and top to tail bunches of palmettes / Lower section of a colonnette: couples of birds and griffins facing each other, superimposed in follage: sprawling bunches of palmettes (possibly a complementary element of the next item) / Upper section of a colonnette: couple of griffins facing each other and bird spreading its wings with foliage motifs; sprawling bunches of palmettes (possibly a complementary element of the previous item) / Lower section of a colonnette: naked figures superimposed between pairs of birds and griffins facing each other; superimposed naked fighters / Colonnette: spiral strips decorated with inhabited follage and sprawling bunches of palmettes Tle-de-France, about 1135-1140. Lutetian limestone (liais)
From the western facade of the abbey church of Saint-Denis (Seine-Saint-Denis, France), jambs of the north and south portals. These six colonnettes decorated the jambs of the church’s western portals. They were stripped during the French Revolution. The three sections shown here are the sole remains of two or three of them, cut out in the middle of the 1820s to be reused as supports for low railings inside the basilica.

Jean Haincelin (Maître de Dunois) et Maître de Jean Rolin
Heures de Simon de Varye, Paris, vers 1455
Parchment.
Los Angeles, The J. Paul Getty Museum, MS 7, La Haye, Koninklijke Bibliotheek, ms. 74 G 37 and 37a
L’ouvrage est d’abord réalisé à Paris, autour de 1455 par le Maître de Dunois (Jean Haincelin) et le Maître de Jean Rolin, pour un commanditaire non identifié.
Il passe rapidement à un second propriétaire, Simon de Varye, commis à l’argenterie de Charles VII.
La devise « VIE À MON DÉSIR » est l’anagramme de son nom. Simon de Varye fait adjoindre trois feuillets indépendants dus à Jean Fouquet.

Sainte Anne et ses filles – Miniature issue des
Heures d’Étienne Chevalier, Paris, vers 1452-1455.
Parchment. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, département des Manuscrits, NAL 1416
La miniature est issue du plus grand chef-d’œuvre enluminé par Jean Fouquet, les Heures d’Étienne Chevalier, aujourd hui démembrées, dont la plus grande partie est conservée au musée Conde de Chantilly. Le nom et le chiffre du commanditaire, trésorier de France outre-Seine et grand mécène de Fouquet, sont portés par les hommes sauvages. Mise en page comme un petit tableau, la scène montre sainte Anne et ses trois filles devant un panorama parisien.
La majorité des feuillets enluminés (40) du livre d’heures d’Étienne Chevalier est conservée au musée
Condé de Chantilly. En raison des dispositions testamentaires du duc d’Aumale qui les acquit en 1891, ils n’ont pu être prêtés à l’exposition. Celui-ci fit aménager spécialement le Santuario, dans son château de Chantilly, pour les présenter encadrés tels de véritables tableaux.

Jean Fouquet, Grandes Chroniques de France. Tours, vers 1415-1420 et 1455-1460
Parchment. Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, département des Manuscrits, Français 6465.
Le manuscrit renferme la première histoire officielle de la monarchie en langue vulgaire dont les origines remontent au règne de Saint Louis. Ses 51 petites miniatures ont été confiées à Jean Fouquet qui y utilise d’amples points de vue et un goût pour l’exactitude documentaire des lieux représentés. Il est peut-être le fruit de la commande du roi ou d’un de ses proches.

Pierre du Billant, on a cardboard by Barthélemy d’Eyck
The Healing of the Blind Woman (orfroi fragment)
France, 1444. Polychrome silks, gold and silver threads. Cl. 23424
This embroidery panel was part of a chapel (set of ornaments and liturgical vestments) dedicated to the story of Saint Martin. It illustrates a posthumous miracle of his life, that of a young blind girl from Lisieux who came by boat to the basilica and who, regaining her sight, thanks the saint. Pierre du Billant , embroiderer to King René, works there on the cartoons of his stepson, Barthélemy d’Eyck: the squat canons with massive heads and thick lips, and the oblique glances are characteristic of the latter’s art.

Barthélemy d’Eyck
René d’Anjou, Traité de la forme et devis comme on fait un tournoi, dit Le Livre des tournois
Angers (?), vers 1462-1465 / Papier Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, département des Manuscrits, Français 2695

André d’Ypres (Maître de Dreux Budé) – Triptyque de Dreux Budé
Paris, vers 1450 0 Volet gauche : Le Baiser de Judas et l’Arrestation du Christ avec Dreux I Budé et son fils Jean Ill présentés par saint Christophe
Huile sur bois. Paris, musée du Louvre, département des Peintures, RF 2015-3

Exceptionnellement réunis, ces panneaux forment l’un des triptyques les plus ambitieux de l’art parisien du xve siècle à nous être parvenus. Il a été commandé par Dreux Budé, notaire et secrétaire du roi mais aussi prévôt des marchands, représenté sur le volet de gauche. Le retable est destiné à la chapelle qu il a fondée dans le chevet de l’église Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais à Paris. Le peintre qui tire son nom de ces tableaux a été identifié à André d’Ypres. Usant des plis marqués et des corps graciles, ce dernier y montre une certaine allégeance à la leçon de Rogier van der Weyden. Il a peint ici le plus ancien tableau français conservé figurant une scène nocturne.

D’après un carton de Jacques Daret – Délivrance de saint Pierre
Pays-Bas méridionaux, avant 1461. Laine et soie
Paris, musée de Cluny – musée national du Moyen Âge, CI. 1235
La tapisserie comporte aux quatre angles les armes de Guillaume de Hellande, évêque de Beauvais de 1444 à 1462, et du chapitre de la cathédrale Saint-Pierre de la même ville. Elle est le fruit de la commande de ce chapitre cathédral auprès de l’un des grands centres de tapisserie des Pays-Bas bourguignons. C’est le peintre d’origine tournaisienne Jacques Daret, formé dans l’atelier de Robert Campin, qui en a donné les cartons. C’est grâce à l’importation d’œuvres comme celle-ci que les nouveautés se diffusent dans le royaume de Charles VII.

This is what I meant when I said the museum had changed a lot… the artefacts and tapestries used to hang on the stone walls of the building, now the entire interior of the museum has white walls installed for the art to be viewed on, and it doesn’t feel Iike it is ‘in situ’ anymore.

Anges, Val de Loire, vers 1460-1470.
Pierre calcaire, traces de polychromie
Tours, musée des Beaux-Arts, inv. HG D 964.002.00001 et HG 968.028.0001
Portant les armes de Jean V de Bueil et de Jeanne de Montjean, ces deux anges (d’une série de quatre) proviennent du tombeau érigé par la famille de Bueil dans la collégiale Saint-Michel de Bueil-en-Touraine (Indre-et-Loire). Amiral de France en 1450, Jean de Bueil a joué un rôle important dans la reconquête du royaume par Charles VII. Stylistiquement proches du gisant d Agnès Sorel, ces anges montrent cependant une recherche d’animation plus marquée, avec des drapés épais et creusés, ou des cheveux agités de grosses mèches.

Panneau semé de fleurs de lis – France, deuxième tiers du xve siècle ?
Tapisserie, laine et soie. Paris, musée de Cluny-musée national du Moyen Âge, CI. 14361.

Guillaume Revel – Registre d’armes, dit Armorial Revel Moulins, vers 1450-1460.
Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, département des Manuscrits, Français 22297

Reliquaire de la Sainte Épine,
Égypte, xexie siècle. Paris, vers 1420-1450. Cristal de roche, or fondu, ciselé, émaillé, perles, rubis
Reims, palais du Tau,inv. D-TAU1972000010 (dépôt de la CRMH Grand Est); classé au titre des Monuments historiques, le 28 février 1896

Médailles de Charles VII dites les Calaisiennes. Émissions entre 1451 et 1460.
Or, frappe. Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Département des Monnaies, Médailles et Antiques, SR 10, 14, 16, 17, 20, 21, 24 et 26. Ces monnaies, appelées improprement calaisiennes. (Calais ne fut pas repris aux Anglais avant 1558), célèbrent la reconquête politique et militaire du roi.

Peut-être commandées par ce dernier ou par un de ses grands officiers, elles constituaient très vraisemblablement des présents de haut prix récompensant alliances et soutiens fidèles. Elles furent frappées pendant la dernière décennie du règne du roi et mettent en avant dans les inscriptions bavardes ses succès militaires, ses réformes et sa légitimité autour de symboles exaltant la majesté royale (roi chevauchant ou trônant, écu armorié, croix).

Altarpiece of the Passion and Childhood of Christ
Hutch (central structure): Christ carrying the cross; the Crucifixion; the Deposition from the cross (upper part of the hutch); The Nativity; the Adoration of the Magi; on each side: angels presenting the instruments of the Passion (lower part of the hutch). Polychromed wood (oak)
Wings: The twelve standing apostles; below: busts of twelve prophets (inner face); The Annunciation; on both sides: saint presenting a donor; sainted bishop; below: the four evangelists (outer side)
Oil on wood (oak): Northern Ile-de-France (Beauvais?), around 1520-1530
From the church of Saint-Martial in Champdeuil (Seine-et-Marne, France)


The Treasure of Oignies is largely composed of reliquaries.
Many have been built to house the relics of the priory, including those of Marie d’Oignies. Reliquaries are receptacles for collecting the relics of saints and blessed people. Whether corporeal relics or contact relics (clothing and objects that have come into contact with them), relics are sometimes accompanied by authentic, small labels used to identify them. The sanctity of the relics is reflected on their containers. Some of them are designed from the outset to serve as reliquaries, while others are adapted for this purpose.
The Treasure of Oignies has a variety of types of reliquaries.
It has reliquary crosses, which are also Reliquaries of the Holy Cross, i.e. deemed to contain a fragment of the Cross of Christ. It also includes anatomical reliquaries: those of the feet of Saint James the Great and Saint Blaise, the reliquary of the rib of Saint Peter, and of the jaw of Saint Barnabas. There is also the curious bird-shaped reliquary of the Virgin’s milk, phylacteries and monstrance reliquaries that make the relics visible.

Phylacteries of Saint Hubert
Oignies workshop, circa 1230-1235. Gilded silver, filigree, stones and rock crystal on wooden core
Coll. Fondation

Cradle of devotion – “Jesus’ Rest” and its storage box
Southern Netherlands, around 1500. Oak, ivory, metal alloy
Devotion to the crèche is attested as early as the 2nd century. This miniature cradle, which still preserves its storage box decorated with coat of arms, belongs to a group of devotional objects popular from the 15th century in monastic communities as well as in the private sphere. The small bells chime when the cradle is rocked.

Four tapestries – Tapestry cycie on seigneurial life
Paris (P), early 15 century. Wool and silk
This ensemble of millefieur tapestries (set against a background of floral motifs) represents the activities of the elite of the late Middle Ages: taking walks, bathing with music, embroidery, reading and spinning. Lacking a sign of ownership and reusing the same figures, it was likely woven prior to purchase, to be presented to potential buyers sure to be impressed by its bucolic décor.

Board game box, France, about 1500.
Stained bone and walnut wood, ebony, ivory.
Made with noble materials, this game box executed in France is one of the oldest known. The pawns and pieces, made of ivory, bone or wood, came from Europe and were designed at various times.
It contained at least six different games, testifying to the taste for entertainment in the Middle Ages.
Some of these games are still familiar to us, such as chess and tric-trac (a kind of backgammon), while others have disappeared: nine-men’s morris, “fox and geese”, tourniquet, and glick (the ancestor of poker).

Lidded hexagonal salt cellar. Italy, 1370. Pewter.

Drinking horn in the shape of a griffin’s claw – Germanic countries, about 1500.
Horn, engraved and gilded copper.
This bull’s horn, mounted in a precious metal setting, rests on eagle talons that evoke a griffin, a legendary animal that is half-eagle, half-lion. Saint Corneille, a pope, was said to have received a claw from a griffin he cured. Transformed into a drinking cup, the claw was believed to detect poison in drinks. A sign of wealth, this object may have decorated a table or dresser where precious dinnerware was displayed.

Pavise – Portcullis. Germanic countries, 1st quarter of the 16th century. Wood.

Pavise – David and Goliath. Bohemia, about 1480. Wood, fabric, leather, paint.
This pavise, whose lower part is missing, was used during the Hussite wars, as a tool in the context of an entirely original military organisation. Pavisiers (who earned more than other foot soldiers) held the shields in place, while pike men stood behind them. They could sustain heavy cavalry charges and successfully repel them.

Targe – Maltese Cross and roses. Germanic countries, last quarter of the 15thC, wood, paint.
This small targe was used in “courtesy” jousting (a joust à plaisance, as opposed to joust à outrance, or grudge matches, where opponents could fight to the death), or even during simple demonstrations.
During jousting, it would be held to the left armpit, protecting it while marking the target on which the opponent should break his lance.

Two cups and a dish. Manises, early 16th century Ceramic with metallic lustre.
Though purchased together, the cup on the right and the dish above it do not necessarily go together. They nonetheless share similarities with the other cup, like their golden lustred decor and the choice of a pseudo-heraldic motif for their ombilics (central circles in relief). The base of the cups features a motif resembling musical notes, called solfa. The care taken with the plant motifs and the harmony of colours with metallic highlights are in line with vessels created in Valencia from the late 15th century, when blue disappeared in favour of golden monochrome, accentuating a likeness to metalware. The gadroons (moulding in relief) reinforce the similarity to copper dishware.

Marten head – northern Italy, late 15th or 16th century Gilded copper, glass, bone.
This object, composed of a copper mount enclosing the head of a marten (animal associated with fertility) was likely placed at the end of a fur, as shown by the fastening holes in the metal. “Lice furs” in the form of martens, sables, foxes or beech martens, meant to serve as lice traps, were worn over the shoulder or attached to a belt. Certain furs were adorned with rock crystal and precious stones on their extremities.

Reliquary-monstrance. Lombardy region (Italy),
last quarter of the 15th century Cast, embossed, engraved and gilded copper, painted enamel, glass.

Papal rings in the name of Popes Paul II (1464-1471) and Sixtus IV (1471-1484)
Central Italy, 2d half of the 15th century Gilded copper alloy, rock crystal; red foil (CI. 9192)
Inscriptions: PIA/PA PAULO; P[A]PA SIXTUS.
These imposing rings, adorned with symbols of the evangelists, each bear the name of a pope. One of them also displays Pope Sixtus IV’s coat of arms (CI.9192). They were worn on top of gloves (by papal legates?). Some sixty of these rings dating to the 15′ century have survived to this day.

Musée D’Orsay

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Buying timed tickets to visit museums seems to be the necessity these days… which works okay, if you are travelling just for leisure, I guess and you don’t mind planning out your every single day of what you are doing on your vacation. But when travelling for work, and finding you might have a few hours to squeeze in something cultural – having to have pre-purchased tickets weeks in advanced leaves you at the mercy of some pretty mercenary resellers, mostly found on Trip Advisor links.

We did manage to get tickets for the morning we suddenly had available, but they were general entry and untimed, so that puts you in a different queue to get into the building, and that can mean ages waiting in lines. Thankfully at 0900 on a Saturday morning, the queues weren’t too intolerable and we were able to visit the Musée D’Orsay somewhat spontaneously after all.

Van Gogh self portrait.. another one. Oil on canvas.

Bedroom At Arles.
Vincent Van Gogh, 1888, oil on canvas… this is my favourite Van Gogh painting. I just can’t get over the texture he created which you an only see in person. This painting utterly fails to translate in reproductions.

The Church in Auvers-sur-Oise, View of the Chevet.
Vincent Van Gogh, 1890, oil on Canvas.
Mr K’s favourite. Something to do with a Dr Who episode? Huh?

Chrysanthemums.
Claude Monet, 1878, oil on canvas. Part of the Doctor Gachet collection, I quite liked this painting even though it isn’t typical of Money and has an odd perspective.

The Starry Night.”
Vincent Van Gogh, 1888, oil on canvas.

La Guinguette a Montmartre; Le Billard en bois, La Bonnie franquette.
Vincent Van Gogh, 1886, oil on canvas.

Fritillaires couronne impériale dans un vase de cuivre.
Vincent Van Gogh, 1887, oil on canvas.

Blue Water Lilies.
Claude Monet, 1916-1919, oil on canvas.

En norvégienne, also called, La barque à Giverny.
Claude Monet, 1887, oil on canvas.

Femme au fichu vert.
Camille Pissarro, 1893, oil on canvas.

Foyer de la Danse.
Edgar Degas, 1872, oil on canvas.

Not sure what to make of Degas, I’ve always admired the work and the spaces he depicted of the opera world and the ballet school always lent themselves to beautiful compositions – very elegant and feminine. As I get older though, I wonder whether he was a sneezy presence (like Trump at a beauty pageant) walking in like he owned the place and ogling half-naked, very young women… many of whom were expected to be congenial to patrons of the arts. :/

Blue Dancers.
Edgar Degas, 1893, oil on canvas.

The Ballet Class
Degas, 1874, oil on canvas.

La Place Valhubert.
Armand Guillaumin, 1875, oil on canvas.

La Dame aux éventails.
Édouart Manet, 1873, oil on canvas. The model is Nina de Callias, she was a musician and artiest herself.

City Dance and Country Dance.
Pierre-Augusta Renoir, 1883, oil on canvas.

Le Cathédrale de Rouen. Also called, Harmonie Bleue et Or.
Claude Monet, 1894, oil on canvas.

Woman with a Parasol Facing Right, and Woman with a parasol Facing Left.
Claude Monet, 1885, oil on canvas. The mondella was named Suzanne Hoschedé who was the daughter the impressionist collector Ernest Hochedé, but these were not meant as portraits. His outdoor figures were attempting to capture the landscape as the subject.

Henri-Edmond Cross.
Maximilien Luce, 1898, oil on canvas… I quite like this one, it’s amazing how much detail is conveyed with such frugal brush strokes and no blending to speak of. Beautiful.

Le Quai Saint-Michel et Notre-Dame.
Maximilien Luce, 1901, oil on canvas.

Georges Seurat’s Palette from 1891… what a cool object to have here – obviously it’s oil paint on timber.

The museum has imagery all around the place of the ‘Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte’, which is one of those annoying things museums seem to do these day to create interest – but of course it isn’t here, it’s at the Art Institute of Chicago. They do have some very small studies that were done for the painting though. These are barely A4 in size, the full painting is 2m high and 3m wide.

Circus.
Georges Surat, 1890-1891, oil on canvas. This work is considered incomplete as Surat died prematurely while working on it. I’ve often wondered about the curatorial choices that go into displaying some of these well known or important works – but apparently Surat chose this blue frame himself.

Couple dans la rue.
Charles Angrand, 1887, oil on canvas.

La Seine à Herblay.
Maximilien Luce, 1890, oil on canvas.

Entrée du port de la Rochelle.
Paul Signac, 1921, oil on canvas… this one was an unexpected little gem that I just loved. The colours are so vibrant and beautiful, and again, such beautiful texture created by the brushwork.

Jardins publics: L’interrogatoire.
Édouard Vuillard, 1894-1936, oil on canvases.

Et l’or de leur corps.
Paul Gauguin, 1901, oil on canvas. I have little affection for Gauguin – partly because I don’t really enjoy his style, but also because I think he just spent years in Tahiti shafting native women. :/

Jane Avril Dancing.
Henri de Toulousse-Lautrec, 1892, thinned oil paint on poster board.

The Robe.
c.1982, distemper on flannel (?)

The restaurant was closed but looked very funky… love the colourful chairs.

Logement prolétaire (Proletärkarsern).
Eugène Jansson, Stockholm, 1898, oil on canvas.

La pointe d’Andey, Vallée de L’Avre.
Ferdinand Hodler, 1909, oil on canvas.

Portrait de l’artist au fond rose.
Paul Cézanne, c. 1875, oil on canvas.

Hercules Kills the Birds of Lake Stymphalia.
Antoine Bourdelle, 1880-1910, bronze.

Le Belier Retif, also called, Belier African.
Antoine Bourdelle, 1909, bronze.

Monument à Jean-Jacque Rousseau…
La Philsophie (centre), with La Verite et la Nature.
La Gloire et La Musique (sides).
Albert Bartholomé, 1910, sculpture en platre

Jeunesse.
Aristide Maillol, 1910, marble.

Judgement de Paris.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1914, Platre (signed and dated Renoir).

Les Nubiens, also called, Les Chasseurs d’Alligators.
Ernst Barrias, 1894, platre.

La Roue de la Fortune (Wheel of Fortune).
Edward Burne-Jones, c1875-1883, oil on canvas.

Mercure inventant le caducée.
Jean Antoine Idrac, 1878, marble.

I didn’t get the description for this one… I liked her, even though the poor dear looks like she’s lost her portable! Selfie Queen.

Polar Bear.
Francois Pompon, c.1923-1933, stone.

Pompon famously worked with Rodin, but chose animals as his focus. This bear was one he watched pace in a cage at the zoo in the Jardins des Plantes, and was carved from a 3 tonne stone… every bit of it that wasn’t polar bear was removed and he is remarkably sleek and modern looking, even today.

We had to bail on the Musée D’Orsay, as we had skipped breakfast and were getting seriously hungry. Went for a bit of a wander to find lunch… on the way, the famous: Sorbonne University.

Lunch Bistro, chosen by Mr K;

Very nice choice. Many bistros will have a daily menu that gives you choices of two or three course meals at very reasonable prices – this is how Parisians often order their lunches, rather than a la carte. So we took that option. Jambon et fromage crépes, steak au poivre for Mr K, boeuf bourguignon for me, crème caramel for Mr K, and I spoiled myself with a crème brulee. Delicious and now we’ll be skipping dinner too!

In Bruges

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I slept like a dead thing last night – was much needed and much appreciated. Work travel is all good and well, but when the work back home (or in this case, in the Middle East) keeps going and you’re on even more unusual time zones that you’re accustomed to, it just creates different challenges.

We were up early hoping to see a few things in the morning so we could be back to work this afternoon. First up was the obligatory canal boat ride, to see a bit of the city from the waterways. Apparently 8 million people visited Bruges last year and it sounds like nearly all of them did the short boat trip on the canal which takes little over 30 minutes.

What a glorious day! Saint John Nepomuk, patron saint of boatmen, bridges, priests and all men who have something in common on the water.

Gruuthuse Palace named for the wealthiest family in Bruges in the 15thC.

The Djiver Marketplace, where markets are held every weekend in the summer.

This is the Spiegelrei (Mirror Quay) and it sits just opposite the Jan Van Eyck square with its statue (c.1878), and the “Poorterloge” with its tower.

Pelikaan (N°8) is a pediment house which features a pelican feeding its children with its own blood. It is the symbol of charity and these houses were created as social housing in the 15thC – they are still social housing, even though tiny houses along those canals are worth upwards of €800k.

The Church of Our Lady dominates the skyline on this side of town – it’s a beautiful building.

Palais du Franc is a former law court, now turned museum… like most of the beautiful old buildings in Bruges.

So the building below is the one that Colin Farrel jumped out of in the movie, ‘In Bruges’, which is part of the same hotel we are staying it… you can see our hotel window in this picture – it is the left window of the two with the white painted frames, just to the right of the shot. It’s a great little spot, with fantastic restaurants just downstairs, music and a great ambiance all round. It’s always nice to choose somewhere to stay and it turns out nicer than you had even hoped.

Every visitor to Bruges seems to come to this little point beside the canal for a now Insta-famous selfie spot.

Gabled rooflines were used as a symbol of seigneurial housing, and became the fashion of the powerful bourgeoisie of the free market towns.

Bricked in windows were also evident along the canals – for those who don’t know, many European countries established a window tax, as a way of taxing the rich, and for some people, they took to bricking up their windows to minimise their tax burden on their windows. It sounds ludicrous, but it’s true. It’s also where the term ‘daylight robbery’ comes from.

Tanner’s House.

Bruges’ swan population have been seen as a symbol of the city’s power and wealth since the 16thC.

After our short boat ride, we made our way to the Church to see the Madonna.

Bruge’s ‘Church of Our Lady’ is a Roman Catholic church dating mainly to the 13th to 15th centuries. It has a 115m tower that remains the tallest structure in Bruges and is apparently the third tallest brickwork* tower in the world (after two in Germany)… *not to be confused with stone work edifices.

The construction of the church is in a high gothic style with flying buttresses, which were constructed in 1270-1280. It has an impressive black and white marble floor throughout and several baroque style chapels emanating from the main nave.

Our Lady of Perpetual Succour.
Philippe Bernaerdt, 1660. Bruges. Oil on canvas.

Confessionals. Jacob Berger and Ludo Hagheman. 1697. Oak.
This heavily ornate row of baroque confessionals is considered one of the most beautiful example of its kind in existence. The figures represent numerous saints – St Jerome, St Augustine, Faith, St John, St Catharine of Alexandria, as well as the Virgin and Child and St Anne and St Peter.

De Baenst Chapel… named after the a prominent Bruges family.

Passion triptych, Bernard of Orley and Marcus Gerards, c1534. Oil on panel.
Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy died at Nancy in 1477 and was finally laid to rest here in 1563. This painting was commissioned by his granddaughter, Margaret of Austria for the tomb of her own husband, Philibert II Duke of Savoy. Unfortunately the artist, Orley died before he could complete it and it was instead finished by Marcus Gerards the Elder and was later transferred to this chancel for Charles the Bold. It depicts the crucifixion, and side panels featuring the flagellation, the Way of the Cross, the Harrowing of Hell and the Lamentation. Waste not, want not, I guess.

Blessed Sacrament Chapel, Jean-Baptiste de Bethune. C.1863
*Interestingly, Bethune was the nephew of the then Bishop of the church and scored the job of decorating the sacristy from sheer nepotism. He created this entire space in the English style complete with murals and stained glass. They must have been happy with his work as he scored commissions for two more chapels of stained glass after this one.

Tomb of Mary of Burgundy, createdby Jan Borman and Reiner van Thienen. Gilded and enamelled by Pierre de Beckere. 1490-1502, Bruges.
Mary of Burgundy died after falling from her horse on 27 March, 1482 at the Prinsenhof (Ducal Palace) in Bruges. She was only 25 years old, but had ruled the Low Countries since the death of her father, Charles the Bold in 1477. She specifically requested to be buried in the Church of Our Lady. Her husband, Maximilian of Austria, commissioned this tomb in 1490 in a Gothic design. The side panels show her family tree on both her mother’s and father’s side.

While Charles has lions at his feet, his daughter Mary has two rather stunned looking puppies keeping her company in her skirts.

Coats of Arms of the Knights of the Golden Fleece
Pieter Coustain and Jan Hennecart, 1468, Bruges. Oil on panels.
Above the baroque choir stalls are 30 coats of arms of the prestigious Knights of the Golden Fleece. Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy founded the order in 1430 on the occasion of his marriage to Isabella of Portugal.

From 8-10th of May 1468, the order held its meeting in this church and Charles the Bold presided over that meeting. Usually, a member of the order was retained for life, but could be expelled for failure to adhere to the rules of the order. Charles the Bold’s nephew, John of Burgundy was at one point, expelled. His coat of arms were painted black and removed from the choir stalls – the reason for his expulsion was said to be heresy and straying from the faith.

Tomb of Charles the Bold.
Worked by Jacques Jonghelinck (c.1558-1562), Bruges.
While the design of this tomb is extremely similar to that of his daughter’s, it was made nearly 70 years later and shows many signs of typical the Renaissance style – the style of his armour etc.

I can’t get over the detail on his garments – the textures applied that represent heavily embroidered clothing suitable for the noble classes and the expensive fabrics they favoured.

I found these two beautiful embroideries just outside the chancel that held the tombs of Charles the Bold and Mary of Burgundy – unfortunately there was no information available on them, and the musuem staff didn’t know much about them either. They are definitely Opus Anglicanum in style (the 3/4 figures and the elongated hands are very typical of that time frame) and the stitch work is definitely congruous with that supposition – but that could mean they are works from as early as the 13thC. Surely, they wouldn’t just be hanging on the wall in regular daylight if they were 700 years old…? Perhaps they are a fairly accomplished but more recent reproductions done in that style. Very curious…

This, second object was also similarly convincing.

The Madonna of Bruges is definitely the highlight of this cathedral. Sculpted by Michelangelo between 1501 to 1504, it is said to be one of the rare few items of his work that left Italy during his lifetime. It is in an usual arrangement for this subject matter – normally the Virgin and Child motif show a pious mother cradling and looking down on her child, but here you see Baby Jee standing unsupported and appearing almost ready to wander off. It has the typical early 16thC High Renaissance pyramid composition style frequently seen in works from the late 1400s onwards.

The Madonna has been removed twice from Belgium, after originally having been purchased by two wealthy cloth merchants (Giovanni and Alessandro Moscheroni) for 100 ducats in 1504… once during the French Revolution in 1794 and citizens of Bruges were ordered to ship it and other valuables to Paris. It was returned after Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo in 1815. It was again removed in 1944 during WWII, with the retreat of German soldiers who smuggled it into an Austrian salt mine in Altaussee, where it was found a year later. Seems between this beautiful statue and the Ghent Altarpieces, we are inadvertently doing ‘The Monuments Men’ art tour of the Low Countries. It is stunningly beautiful, and most obviously a huge cut above the other statuary in the church.

Procession of the Brotherhood of Our Lady of the Snows. Anton Claeissens. 1575. Oil on panel.
This painting draws inspiration from the 4thC legend that Mary is said to have caused a miraculous snowfall on Mount Esquiline, one of the Seven Hills of Rome, in the middle of summer. She wanted to indicate that a church should be built for her on that spot, apparently.

This beautiful little random fresco on the actual wall of the church didn’t have any description accompanying it… but I was quite enamoured with the delicate calligraphy and how well preserved the colours were.

Popping back out into the daylight after the somber shuffling inside a cathedral/musuem like this, can often be a bit jarring. Bruges has certainly turned on a beautiful day for us and we wandered around town for a while checking out the architecture and of course, the famous belfry.

Oddly enough, at 83m high and 366 tiny winding steps, I shan’t be climbing it with this fooked knee of mine. All good, just means it stays on my list and I’ll have to come back. Maybe I’ll see if Mr K wants to climb it tomorrow. 🙂

Bruges has more chocolate shops than I have EVER seen in my life. There must be over 50 of them within a 500m radius of our hotel, they are everywhere.

We walked around behind the belfry to hunt for a more out of the way, quite spot for lunch. Everything here is at full on tourist prices, which I don’t mind so much, so long as you’re also able to get something quality for your Euro. We are skipping dinner tonight, so a decent lunch is the plan.

We found a nice cafe called Tompouce – Mr K was exceedingly happy with his large blonde beer that came out in a glass almost as big as his head.

Flemish stew – rich and delicious gravy with slow cooked beef.

Beef meatballs in a tomato sauce with mashed potatoes. There – dinner is done!

After our meal, we wandered around a bit, taking more pics of the architecture and searching out the hidden little nooks and crannies of the back streets. Bruges is super pretty and being a medieval town, it’s a rabbit warren of little treasures around every corner.

Ah, these pics are for Angus – he said he wanted me to bring back Belgian chocolates for him – but tbh, I woudln’t know where to start! I don’t really eat chocolate myself, and there is so many varieties on offer, it’s kinda overwhelming to try and choose something… plus, who asks for a gift from overseas that is 1) perishable, and 2) cost by the 100gms?! Doesn’t he know I have a luggage allowance to consider! 😉

I finally found the perfect chocolate present… though I dare say these aren’t the same quality as the fancy truffles above.

I also stumbled into a tapestry shop, Mille Fleur’s Tapestries, which contained all locally woven products… so many beautiful things in here, though I didn’t allow myself to get too far into the back of the shop where the obviously large and impressive pieces were. Instead, In content myself with a small Cushion Agenda… I found two fabulous designs based on the Bayeaux Tapestry, which of course, Mr K had absolutely no Cushion Opinon on, and so I have bought a couple for our media room at home. There were even Mondrian designs for BigSal, but I resisted… this time.

Ghet thee to Ghent!

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Off to Brugge via Ghent today. We’re having our weekend early because Ramadan is over and we have work to do in Brussels and Zurich… which probably makes no sense to anyone.

I’ll never get enough of European architectures. I met a man just now who asked me if I have seen the Bayeaux Tapestry – which I have not, though it seems like something I should have seen by now, and he said, ‘It really draws you into the whole history…’ and I was like, ‘Dude, I’m Australian, EVERYTHING here draws you into the history compared to back home.’

Totally apropos of nothing, that little green car is the Alfa Romeo Tomale we have hired for the week – it’s comfortable but also a bit fussy in a, ‘trying too hard’, kinda way.

Anyway, Ghent… we approached St Bavo’s Cathedral and the main square from the Jan van Eyck Square which is located behind the church and saw this impressive monument to Jan Van Eyck. Mr K was musing that he wants a huge memorial like this, showing him surrounded by a bevy of beauties with their boosies out after he’s gone… I said he had to do something worthy of being memorialised in such a manner, cos let’s face it – no matter how good you are at at it, there ain’t no way any fucking procurement expert is ever gonna be remembered like this! 😀

Ghent town square

Saint Bavo’s Cathedral, also know as Sint Baafs, is a Catholic cathedral and the seat of the Diocese of Ghent since the 16thC, though it has been a religious site for centuries before that.

Just inside the vestibule to the church, was a large, very modern, very worrying ‘chandelier’? Interesting choice of lighting design for a space like this…

Originally this site housed a timber chapel for St. John the Baptist, built and consecrated in 942AD – I love that all this information has been passed down. The construction of the existing cathedral was started over that structure in 1274 and is in a Romanesque style that is still evident in the cathedral’s crypts. The vaulted high Gothic construction of the main hall of the church began around 1274, and the building was subsequently added to continuously through until the 14thC to 16thC with the additions of a choir, radiating chapels, transepts, nave aisles, the chapter house and a single tower on the western end of the Cathedral. The work is said to have been completed by 7th June, 1569… huge efforts over hundreds of years.

When the Ghent Diocese was founded in 1559, this church became its cathedral, however just prior to the completion of the building works, in the summer of 1566, it is recorded that Calvinist iconoclasts visited many Catholic Churches in the Netherlands (including this one) and smashed statues, shattered stained glass windows, destroy paintings and other artworks they deemed idolatrous. Thankfully at this time, the Van Eyck Altarpiece was saved… and it wouldn’t be the last time it needed to be saved from narcissistic fuckwits with cockeyed ideology.

The impressive pulpit.

What is above is what is available to visit upon entry to the church, however, to see the crypts and the famous Ghent Altarpiece, you need to buy tickets online to enter what is ostensibly an museum inside the church. Now, given the exorbitant amounts it must cost to upkeep and secure these elaborate and important buildings and their historical artefacts, I don’t really mind paying my €16 per adult to gain access to see them, but for some reason a lot of these historical sites seem to want to *value add* these days and man do they miss the fucking mark!

You enter the church amid signs asking for silence a respect to be shown in this place of worship, (as is standard in every single important religious site in the entire world, regardless of the local variant of omnipotent invisible friend being worshipped!), only to be ushered into the crypt and given a VR headset with a loud and blaring soundtrack with heaps of church bells, a gratingly brash American accented narration (on the English setting at least), and a whole pile of glowing cauldrons, crosses, footprints to stand on, holographic models of the town of Ghent and it was just… fuck, no! What the ever loving hell are they doing? If I wanted to see some crass, seppo, bastardisation of history, I could have just stayed at home and switched on the History Channel with it’s over-sensationalised and over-dramatised presentations. I lasted less than five minutes into the one hour virtual tour, before ripping the headset off in disgust and choosing to just see the crypts for what they are… it left me seriously concerned for what I might expect upstairs at the Altarpiece. :/

Here is the info of the VR Tour for anyone who is interested, engage with it at your own risk: https://www.sintbaafskathedraal.be/en/ghent-altarpiece-ar-tour

The downside of not sticking with the all hype, no substance VR tour is that there was not a single fucking information plaque down here – just glowing footprints that auto start another onslaught of imagery and shitty narration that put your teeth on edge.

I believe – that the fresco paintings here are c.12thC, but don’t quote me on that. No plaques.

Above: A reliquary to Saint Macarius (whose connection to Ghent I have been unable to ascertain), and,
Below: A very recognisable reliquary of head of Saint John the Baptist. Both 17thC, neither attributed to artists.

The ‘History of Saint Andrew’ painted in 14 panels by Frans Pourbus the Elder in 1572…

Heading

Leaving the crypts, we head up a few levels to the ambulatory chapels which are elevated and behind the main nave of the cathedral. The ceremonial tomb of Bishop Anton Triest, in dramatic black and white marble, sculpted by Jerome Duquesnoy.

The Rubens Chapel, so named because it contains a most important masterpiece of the Baroque artist, Pieter Paul Rubens, completed in 1624.

The ambulatory pathway between the various chapels…

Ooh… one of the ambulatory chapels was filled with modern art – I have just gotten over the trauma of the VR headsets, please, no… the Altarpiece is around here somewhere.

Originally the Ghent Altarpiece, which is formally known as the, ‘Adoration of the Mystic Lamb’ but here everywhere is referred to as the, ‘Son of Lamb’, was installed in the Joost Vidj Capel on the eastern side of the ambulatory chapels. Now it is housed in the ‘Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament’, all to itself. The work itself was originally started by Hubert van Eyck, but was completed by his brother, Jan van Eyck, after Hubert died. The painting is considered to be Van Eyck’s masterpiece and is one of the most important works of the Northern Renaissance – being an exemplar of the transition between paintings of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. This enormous artwork was undertaken in 1420 and completed by 1432, and has such a storied history.

Incredible…

Over 500 year old and so vibrant and detailed…

One part of the painting, the lower left panel, which is known as, ‘The Just Judges’ was stolen in 1934 and has never been recovered. It is believed to have been lost years ago, and possibly even destroyed. A copy of the ‘Just Judges’, completed done by Jef Van der Veken, now sits in its place. Would be very cool if it turned up one day in some dead rich guy’s private art collection or something.

The Adoration of the lamby-lamby ding dong…

I’ve always enjoyed how the rays of sunlight are rendered in this painting… the lines draw the eye around the art work and keep you looking, and finding, more detail. The overall design of the work is believed to have been drafted by Hubert van Eyck, but most of the work executed by Jan van Eyck, who refers to himself repeatedly around this work, ‘as the second in art’ to his brother.

Fecund Eve… just to remind us of the Sin.

It is even possible to see the back of the altarpiece – or rather the front as it would appear if it were closed:

It looks like this when closed properly, but very hard to make out in the darkened chapel:

It truly is a stunning piece. I also feel so fortunate to be seeing it, not just in this chapel where it belongs, but at all. With its turbulent history of having been stolen by Nazis and stored in a salt mine in Austria until it was found at the end of the war by American soldiers, and then returned to Ghent by Eisenhower… it’s perhaps just blind luck that it wasn’t lost forever.

In another of the ambulatory chapels, called the Priests and Bishops chapel which had confessionals lining the walls for the sinners… were these two peculiar caskets. Unfortunately, there was no information on them. They look somewhat like reliquary caskets, but those almost always contain information on what/who was supposed to be contained within. The work on these was absolutely stunning! I’m thinking 16thC embroidery but they could be far more modern, it’s hard to tell.

Metal strap work surrounding the embroidered motifs:

Beautifully executed – I know how much work it takes to create figurative pieces in this style.

The second chest has more goldwork techniques worked in more floral designs without the gold metal strapwork as a background…

Padded and heavily couched goldwork…

The main nave at the top of the cathedral… so much beautiful stained glass. Many panels of the glasswork in the lower part of the chapel appear to have been replaced with modern glass, but in this old section of the church, they appear to be original… thank goodness Hitler was an art lover and tried not to destroy all these amazing buildings.

From the back of the nave looking towards the main entrance of the cathedral.

Back out in the square, the Ghent Belfry dominates the townscape – now a tourist information centre. It was a fairly cold and miserable day, not as windy as out at Volendam thankfully, but we beat a hasty retreat to a local cafe for a hearty lunch with the intention of skipping dinner this evening.

I tried the onglet with champignons, Mr K ordered the Ghent boeuf stew – both of which were excellent and our meal came with some frites and mayo, of course.

Farewell to Ghent for now, we may have to pass back through on our way to Brussells. We are spending this evening In Brugge… you know, of ‘You can’t give ketamine to a dwarf!’, fame.

I had booked us a canal view room in the Hotel Bourgoensch Hof, and the view from our window did not disappoint… the building on the right at the edge of the canal is the one that poor Colin Farrell had to jump out of six times when filming, ‘In Bruge’, here.

The view was even prettier as the sun went down… there is a saxophonist playing out there somewhere and the indistinct chatter of people enjoying an evening aperitif, and the smell of freshly baked waffles drifting up to our room on the third floor.

Amsterdam Museumplein

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This image is hurting my head, almost as much as it was hurting my head while I was standing across from it and noticing how some of the brickwork is decidedly ‘triangular’ as in small fractions of bricks at the bottom to wider full bricks at the top, built to accomodate for the fact that the building next door isn’t straight! Wedges of brickworks for crooked little houses in crooked little streets!

Wonky architecture aside, Amsterdam has heaps to recommend it (even if you’re not here for the Red Light District or the cannabis coffee shops), and OMG, I have died and gone to cheese heaven! There are so many cheeses shops everywhere.

So much cheese! So little refrigeration space in our hotel minibar fridge! :/ Next time Gromit!

We have some early work to do, but Mr K got out bright and early to get a jump on the day (yeah… nothing to do with jet lag and being wide awake at stupid o’clock), so he decided to take a walk and find some transit cards that we could use on the trams to get to meetings and later to the museums we wanted to see. The city was so still and beautiful before everyone was getting on with their day.

Except tram drivers, they seem to have to start earlier than everyone else… god bless public transport.

The Amsterdam Central train station had the transit cards we were looking for – but as of April 22, 2024 (in approx 14 days time) they will no longer be available. Everyone is being encouraged to either have an app on their mobile device that can be topped up, or to use cash vending machines to print out a ticket that contains a QR code that you scan as you get on and off public transport. And why is this innovation being pushed, like literally everywhere? Well, for one, it’s cheaper they don’t have to make physical cards, and two, the app system tracks and gathers way more data that these dumb cards can. *scowly face* Good for those in the industry not so great for consumer.

They probably could have made them way cheaper by ditching the fancy hologram in the first instance!

Reflections on the canal… gorgeous.

Anyway, after the meetings were done this morning, we ended up at the Van Gogh Museum. And by ‘ended up’, I mean, we made it in time to use the timed entry tickets I had pre-purchased weeks ago – which was just as well, as there were signs everywhere saying the entire day’s visitor allocation was SOLD OUT. So heads up travellers! Pre-purchasing is a must even on the shoulder season these days. The building itself is quite impressive – though a bit of a nightmare if you can’t walk the stairs (the lifts are small and cramped and slooow).

I took a bunch of photos that I want to include here, but I’m not going to rave on about most of them – if you’re unfamiliar with Vincent Van Gogh’s work and his particular genius in the impressionist movement, you need way more help than I’m gonna give here!

Mostly I was trying to capture the texture, and interplay of light and colour that Van Gogh’s works are famous for; which rarely translates well when the works are reproduced in prints or photographs. Which you know, if the professionals can’t manage – I’m highly unlikely to manage it today… but you know, everybody needs a hobby, or in this case a distraction when you’re musuem’ing it in chronic pain. 😀

’Wheatfield With Crows’, c.1890… there’s something menacing but still lovely about this one.

‘Wheatfields Under Thunder Clouds’, c.1890.

‘A Pair of Leather clogs’, c. 1888.

‘Irises’, c.1890. Painted in while he was living in the St Remy psychiatric hospital, the Irises paintings were primarily a study in colour – they were originally bright purple on a yellow background, but the paint has faded with time.

Like I said, beautiful museum, but all the galleries revolved around these spiralling staircases. Accessibility fail.

Van Gogh painted this very famous ‘Almond Blossom’ (c.1890) painting just after his brother, Theo, had a son who he had promised to name Vincent, after him. Upon receiving word that the son was born, and named Vincent, he reportedly became completely absorbed with painting this almond blossom against a blue sky and took to his work for days on end. He wrote to Theo: ‘the last canvas of the branches in blossom, you’ll see that is was perhaps the most patiently worked, best thing I have done, painted with calm and a greater sureness of touch’. The painting became one of Theo’s most treasured possessions and their son, Vincent Jnr, later founded this museum. Which was a cute personal story that accompanied the artwork. There was also a bunch of twonk about the delicate flowering buds heralding the spring and new life, and the birth of a child bringing hope and yada, yada, yada…

This was an interestingly curated piece – ‘Landscape with Rabbits’, c.1889…

…and a vignette on display by the museum, which showed one of the rabbits from the field of this painting compared to a photograph of a rabbit. I believe to try and demonstrate how Van Gogh seems to capture the shape and movement of the animal with zero attempt at lifelike reproduction.

‘Skull of a Skeleton With a Burning Cigarette’, c.1886. An early-ish painting showing a skull with a lit cigarette in its mouth is a sort of joke piece completed while studying at the art academy in Antwerp… art students, huh? They never change.

‘Self Portrait with Grey Felt Hat’, c.1887.

It’s amazing how the impressionists create light and tone by their creative use of colour – they all did it, would make a skin tone have depth and texture but somehow instead of using blended hues of skin tone, they usedcrazy blue, green or in this case, even red paint. It’s a super commonplace technique now, but when these guys were bucking against the realism of the works that came before them, it was extraordinary.

‘Daubigny’s Garden’, c.1890.

All the textures!

‘Zonnebloemen’ c.1889… which I think is a far more romantic name than ‘The Sunflowers’, as English speakers know this, Van Gogh’s most famous work. I can’t stress enough how much I have HATED this artwork for literally decades. Very likely unfairly, at that. You see, the IVF clinic that I attended from 1999 until 2008 trying to have our little family had a print of this hanging in the waiting room, and every time I was kept waiting – this is what I was staring at. It was there when I received bad news, it was there mocking me with it’s bright and sunny disposition when I felt at the lowest of my lows – and it didn’t matter how many times I told my specialist how much I hated staring at this fucking print, he never took it down. Actually, that’s not accurate, he did eventually take it down and replaced it with a huge black and white Anne Geddes style portrait of his own newborn daughter when she came along… which was moderately better, but also sad in an entirely different way.

Anyway, I may have judged the little sunflowers print a little too harshly as lifeless, boring, and way too fucking yellow! Turns out this is a beautiful painting, and like most of Van Gogh’s pieces, exquisitely executed.

This painting is on the Ground Floor and almost available to you as soon as you enter the gallery – but for some reason, we missed it entirely and saw it only as we were leaving.

And of course one of the best things about museum hopping is… exiting via the Gift Shop. I was expecting to see sunflower adorned EVERYTHING, but instead Miffy in Sunflower dresses seemed to dominate the shelves. I was vaguely tempted to buy one to take home as a gift for a friend; right up until I saw the €30 price tag! That’s AUD$56 for a 7” mass produced stuffed, crocheted bunny. Sorry, not happening.

The other unexpected gift shop juxtaposition was a smattering of cute but weird, Pokémon/Van Gogh cross over merch? Apparently they had an exhibition that was running until Jan this year which was all Pokémon paintings done in the style of Van Gogh. That’s one way to get the kids to engage with art!

Van Gogh Museum is a solid 7/10. Seen it, probably wouldn’t come back for a re-run next time I’m in town. It’s missing some very famous pieces that I’ve seen in other museums – The Starry Night, The Cafe Terrace at Night, and The Bedroom at Arles just to name a few. I have been fortunate enough to have seen most of these pieces in the past, but it feels like they belong here, and they’re just not. :/

After this we wandered off to find a bit of late lunch. I’m afraid sticking to my low carb diet is going to prove impossible here with the main lunch offerings being sandwiches, burgers, hot dogs and of course the world famous Dutch fries drowning in cheese or served with mayo…

Tasted just like Icelandic hotdogs!

Just across the park from the Van Gogh Museum is the Amsterdam Rijksmusuem, which is the national museum of the Netherlands dedicated to Dutch Art. When I was in Amsterdam last, way back in 1995, Holland was one of the last countries we visited on our Grand 70 Day Tour of Europe, and we were admittedly a bit museum’d out and blasé about seeing more old paintings, so we skipped it. Thirty years late, but I’m glad to have the chance to come back and finally check it out.

I’ve taken a pile of photos of interesting objects, some of which I have the description for and some I’ll have to go look up later. It’s entirely likely that the entire collection is digitised online somewhere, but old habits die hard. 🙂

Reliquary in the form of a triptych. Paris c.1400-1420 : miniature altar doubles belonged to someone associated with the Parisian court. From the descriptive plaque, ‘Seeing the Christ’s tormented body, the owner could mediate on his sufferings at any time.’ Sounds like fun for the whole family!

Ivory mirror case depicting three courtiers. French, c.1425

‘The Raising of Lazarus’, attributed to Aertgen Claesz, also called Aertgen van Leyden, oil on panels, c.1560.

Not so fast Rjiksmuseum! We see what you did there – this one is clearly AI generated!

Chainmail, Low Countries, c.1400-1500, iron.
Made of iron rings linked together, this one weights over 11 kilograms. With its cute little button at the collar it looks like a medieval polo shirt.

Parvise with St Andrew’s Cross, Burgundy c.1474-1475.
Covered in symbols of the Duke of Burgundy – the red St Andre’s Cross, four gold firesteels, and black-white flints with red flames.

Engelbert II van Nassau, oil on panel, c.1480-1490. Prominent noble in the Duchy of Burgundy, has the fancy prestigious chain of the Order of the Golden Fleece and a cool falcon.

Panels from an organ case (Church of St Vitus) by Jan Eerste. Utrecht c. 1510-1520.

Collection of Aquamantiles, mostly in the forms of Lions. 14thC.

Above: Lion Aquamantile, attributed to Master Berhuser or his workshop. Konigsberg (now Kaliningrad) c. 1375-1300. Copper alloy.

Below: Aquamantile, craftsman unknown. Nuremberg, c.1400. Copper alloy.

Portraits of an unknown Couple. Maarten van Heemskerck. Haarlem, 1529.
The gentleman is busy with his important bookkeeping, while his wife is virtuously sitting at her spinning wheel. A conscientious merchant is a trope from occupational portraits of Dutch citizen around this time.

Drinking Horn of the Amsterdam Company of Arquebusiers.
Attributed to Aren’t Cornelia’s Caster. Amsterdam, 1547. Silver and buffalo horn. This luxury drinking horn playe a prominent roll in civic guard ceremonies. The horn was passed around the table and everyone drank from it. In this way the militamen expressed their common bond and unity. The claws in the silver mount are the symbol of the arqubusiers… and that’s how they all got the plague!

Ripped baby Jesus doesn’t skip ab day!
The Holy Family, Jan Cornelia’s Vermeyen (c.1503-1559). Oil on Panel.

Chest, Italy c.1450-1500. Painted poplar wood.
Heraldic Cassone covered in a family’s coat of arms. Chests such as these were used on the occasion of marriage to hold a bridal trousseau, consisting of clothing, fabrics and precious dowry items. They were usually set against a wall and could be used for travelling. This trunk is fully 1.5m long.

I couldn’t find the description on this amazing vessel! But it’s gorgeous.

Messenger’s badge (bodebus) of Amsterdam.
Attributed to Jan Cornelia’s Coster, Amsterdam, 1548. The badge was worn by a travelling civic messenger and was an offical insignia. The elaborately worked decorations includes the arms of Amsterdam under the imperial crown. This thing is huge – fully 6” across and probably a fairly hefty weight.

Ceremonial chain of the Guild of Saint George of Zevenbergen. Bergen op Zoom or Breda, c.1525-1546.
Visible on the chain are Saint George and his arms, which signify the collar belonged to the guild. The seven mountains of Zevenbergen are depicted as are oak leaves which stand for religious steadfastness, storks for piety and respect to church, state and master.

Hunting horn, Johannes Matheus van Kempen, c. 1848, parcel-gilt silver.
In 1849 King William II presented this horn as a prize for the faster hunter at Het Loo Palace. Its shape is derived from an ox horn and it is embellished with images of predators and prey.

Tapestry depicting the arms of Charles V. Worked by Willem de Pannemaker (active 1535-1578). Wool, silk, silver and gold thread. Brussels, c.1540-1555.

Weepers from the tomb of Isabella of Bourbon (wife of Charles the Bold). Cast by Reiner van Thienen. Brussels, c.1475-1476. Originally placed at the abbey of Saint Michael in Antwerp, the tomb was surrounded by 24 mourning family members and ancestors known as ‘pleurants’, (weepers).

Soup Tureen, Jean Baptiste Claude Odiot, Paris, c.1819. Silver and gold gilt.
Believed to have belonged to a 140 piece dining service belonging to the Russian empress.

Cabinet, Pierre Gole, Paris c. 1655-1660. Various kinds of wood, veneered with tortoiseshell, ivory, green-stained bone, and mounts of gilt bronze. Gole was originally from Bergen in what is now the province of Noord-Holland, and established himself in Paris in 1643. Before too long he was apppointe court cabinet maker by King Louis XIV. This cabinet is decorated with floral marquetry, and ornamental technique that was invented and disseminated by Gole.

There was an entire gallery full of Delft ceramic ware of various sizes, quality and uses.

Case with Duelling Pistols. Jean le Page (1746-1834).
Pistols: wood and metal. Case: wood, leather, velvet. C.1808.
This case with duelling pistols and tools was made in the workshop of Jean Le Page in Paris. Up until the Battle of Waterloo (1815), Le page was allowed to bear the name of ‘Arquebusier de L’Empereur’ (Gunmaker to Emperor Napoleon). This case came into the possession of Lieutenant Hengry Sagermans of Brussels shortly after Waterloo, who claimed the pistols were found in Napoleon’s travel carriage which had been abandoned near the battlefield.

Piece of the stone on which Prince William III set foot on arriving in England at the fishing village of Brixham, on November 15, 1688. He invaded England to overthrow his Catholic father-in-law, James II and to prevent him from turning against the Netherlands. Known as the Glorious Revolution, William’s coup was a great success.

Three door cabinet, Paris, c.1835-1838. Oak, ebony, pietre dure, gilt bronze. Once owned by William II.

Still life with a Gilt Cup. William Clasz Heda, oil on canvas, 1635.
The range of tones that Heda could paint are astonishing. Objects are beautifully rendered in a most realistic style regardless of surface – pewter, silver, damask, glas,, mother of pearl. Heda specialised in ‘tonal banquet pieces’. Damn, now I want oysters.

Wandering through these amazing art galleries in Europe, it’s often easy to forget you are wandering through an architectural marvel in its own right. The Rjiksmuseum is an incredibly beautiful building.

The upper floor houses the great masterpieces of the museum’s collection…

The Love Letter, Johannes Vermeer, c.1669-1670.

The Milkmail, Johannes Vermeer, c.1660

Self Portrait as the Apostle Paul, Rembrandt van Rijn, c. 1661.

The Threatened Swan, Jan Asselijn, c.1640.

And of course, the Nightwatch, Rembrandt van Rijn, 1642. Which I never expected to see out of a frame on a stretched canvas like this. I expected the glass room built around it so no one could get within 9 feet of it, but no frame. I feel it loses something here from how it would have been presented in the artist’s lifetime.

Long day is long, and museums with crowds of people are exhausting. Couple of pretty pics on the way back to our hotel. The tram system is efficient and clean, if a little confusing to start with.

Popped into a souvenir shop looking for a lapel pin for my collection – and instead found more cannabis products than you could poke a stick at. Why would anyone buy their pot products from a souvenir shop when there are coffee shops selling all the gummies and brownies you could possibly want?

I am very tired, and I should have learned a few words of Dutch.