extraneous work (3): writing about art, presenting art

[you will by now understand that the word `extraneous' in the series' title is meant thus: `not immediately pertaining to the creation of art'.]

i write about art in different ways, one important way is this blog. but i also have two other art blogs, in dutch. the first of those is called trijntje fop gaat op de schop. it is an extensive tribute to the many many artists that inspire / have inspired me. it takes the form of poetry, specifically light verse, with animals as characters. the name `trijntje fop' comes from multatuli's ideas (multatuli = eduard douwes dekker, see the previous post), from a famous and hilarious passage containing school children's poetry. it was taken as a nom de plume by the dutch poet kees stip (1913-2001). the name is currently used to describe light poetry with the following style characteristics:

• about 1 or more animals (`on a ...' ) with typical human characteristics - as in de la fontaine's work
• abundance of spoonerisms.
• 2 to ... lines, mostly 6 lines in aabbcc form.

most of my trijntje fops are about a specific artist, where the 'punchline' usually consists of some wordplay on the artist's name. i illustrate these poems with relevant artworks and background information, which is where the real work creeps in. all in all i've written some 200 trijntje fops so far...which was a lot of work. to give an idea, let me present my latest trijntje fop -not about a specific artist- below:

op n tasmaanse duivel en n duivelsrog


briest thea tasmaanse duivel:
`alleen maar banaan met zuivel?
vervloekt zij wie steeds ons hellevoer
weer boekt bij die zweedse melkboer!'

de helleveeg eist n vragenuur:
voor welk beest spijst t vagevuur?

`besef toch' sust dragan duivelsrog
de chefkok van satans ruif en trog
`aan types als bok beëlzebub
heeft íedere kok n helse club

de stamppotstampij
van harry harpij!
of maak maar ns snert voor ruziester
en drama queen slechtvalk lucifer

misschien stopt de hel met kniezen
indien k ze zelf laat kiezen?'

bel nu 666 voor vlammetjes!
-of stuur sms voor bammetjes



tasmaanse duivel
(foto chen wu)



duivelsrog
(mobula mobular, foto david sim)



bok
(tekening van de sève, gravure van c. baquoy, in  illustrations de histoire naturelle générale et particulière avec la description du cabinet du roy, tome v, 1755)



harpij
(foto bjørn christian tørrissen) 



slechtvalk 
(john james audubon, uit the birds of america)



waterspuwer harpij (mythologisch)
(foto véronique pagnier)



duivel = satan, beëlzebub, lucifer
(tarotkaart van pamela colman smith)


drama queen: iemand die graag van een mug een olifant maakt; vlammetjes: scherpe snack, bammetjes: boterhammetjes

john james audubon, for example, features here. what an incredible artist! the world of art is very strange, for the recognition of audubon is no doubt formidable, yet one does not usually see his works in art museums, nor is he usually mentioned in art history books. [one reason of course is that his main work is contained in the incredible book birds of america (link to digital version, only 120 complete sets exist), and it is hard to display books]. anyway, the older i get, the less i understand of this world. but the less i care, too, for fitting in, for understanding...what i perceive as the general insanity of our society.

(in the trijntje fops i often comment ironically on this general craziness.)

extraneous work (2): writing about art (van gogh)

perhaps you remember that i wrote about multatuli earlier (my favourite dutch author, more or less from the same time period as vincent van gogh) as being perhaps the inventor of blogging, see his published ideas. sorry to see that they are still not translated in english, an unbelievable state of affairs to me. i'm not a chauvinist, this is a terrific author with truly original prose and ... ideas of course.

but vincent van gogh is an example of a visual artist who also wrote prolifically, on art. of course, contrary to multatuli he never intended these writings to become public, they were after all personal letters, mostly to his brother theo, who was a close supporter of vincent. theo died shortly after vincent, and fortunately for us theo's young widow johanna bonger took great pains to spread appreciation of both vincent's art and the brothers' letters.

crediting multatuli with the invention of blogging is probably unfair to earlier minds which i'm unaware of. and of course, there was an essential ingredient missing: pictures. in vincent's letters one does see pictures being integrated, abundantly so and in much the same way as on this blog. [so even though i would like to be original or prolific or whatever epithet: the truth is that i'm neither of all these things, compared to certain giants in the past and present. but does it matter?]


excerpt from letter to john russell, vincent van gogh (click on the image for an enlargement)

the letter is in english (which is why i chose it for this post) since john peter russell was an australian artist who made vincent's acquaintance in paris. vincent was completely fluent in dutch, french and english, and also a voracious reader. here is a portrait of vincent by john russell:


portrait of vincent van gogh, john peter russell (1886, click on the image for an enlargement)

anyway, vincent wrote over 840 letters (844 have survived due to theo and johanna), containing a staggering amount of prose and sketches. seeing the interest in these letters i should remind myself that perhaps my writings here are not as uninteresting to others as i often fear them to be. but already for vincent the letters themselves were enough, and so it is for me as well: a main reason to maintain this blog is to help me crystallize and develop my thoughts on art.


yellow house sketch from letter vgm 491, vincent van gogh (click on the image for an enlargement)

on a bonobo and a chimpanzee (see previous post)

on a bonobo and a chimpanzee

did artist yoko bonobo
completely out of mikado
construct for hiroshige's lobster
`jacuzzi with yakuza mobster'?

the ape clams up mysteriously
but still complains imperiously
`they never take me seriously'

chimp saatchi: `who knows? years ago
she built in downtown tokyo
her christ in tub with giorgio
committing in this spirito
artistic harachirico'



utagawa hiroshige, 2 shrimp and a lobster


giorgio de chirico, christ and the storm


giorgio de chirico, mystery and melancholy of a street


yoko ono, touch me

yoko ono: once partner of john lennon, bonobo: great ape, jacuzzi: warmwater whirlpool, yakuza: japanese mafia, mobster: mafioso, charles saatchi: owner of saatchi gallery, harakiri: ritual japanese suicide

for this trijntje fop some background on de chirico is useful, see an essay by robert hughes

above a typical example (or non-typical since it is in english) of what i've been working on. silly light verse, but with lots of art pictures and art references, also largely as a hommage to the many artists who have inspired me.

trijntje fop goes art

sorry to not have posted any more recently. there was a reason, pretty predictable: i'm writing on another blog called trijntje fop gaat op de schop. a crazy undertaking, to be honest. mostly silly rhymes, mostly in dutch, mostly about art, in a style called `trijntje fop'

trijntje fop is a nom de plume of the dutch poet kees stip (1913-2001). the name is currently used to describe light poetry with the following style characteristics :

1. light!


2. see 1.


3. about 1 or more animals (`on a ...' ) with typical human characteristics - as in de la fontaine's work.


4. abundance of spoonerisms.


5. 2 to ... lines, mostly 6 lines in aabbcc form.

the name trijntje fop itself was taken from multatuli (pseudonym of eduard douwes dekker), from his magistral ideas- when will these be translated in english? i'm flabbergasted to be unable to locate a translation. here a link to a commented, wonderful complete online edition of multatuli's ideas in dutch by philosopher maarten maartensz.

in one of the continuing stories (between ideas) master pennewip reads and comments on poems of his children. one of them is trijntje fop, with a short and very simple verse:

Tryntje Fop, op haar muts

Ik heet Tryntje Fop
En heb een muts op myn kop.

(Tryntje Fop, on her cap

I'm called Tryntje Fop
And have a cap on my head.)

pennewip's commentary is very memorable. multatuli was a great modernizer of language, i have tried to retain that spirit also.

in the next post i will give an example of my `trijntje fop goes art' in english. not the best and not all that accessible to a lay person, but it gives an inkling of what i've been working on in this past month of silence.

actually i'm revising the lot of around 160 poems, and this for me is a gargantuan task. although not as bad as writing them in the first place, which took two years.

icarus 5, multatuli 2

[just visited paris, stayed with a friend, which was very inspiring. talked about multatuli, for one. more on paris later.]

did multatuli's book max havelaar put an end to colonialism in the end? maybe. but not to economic slavery. how aware are we of the working conditions in china, india, pakistan, ... - where so much of our `cheap' goods & clothing come from? why is there still an organization called max havelaar trying to foster `fair trade'? are we more aware of the appalling amount of child labour than our 19th century predecessors?

i dare say not. or we have become more callous in these matters. how difficult is it REALLY to pressure governments into protecting at least the children of this world? i don't know. but a new multatuli would not be out of a job, of that i'm sure.

visiting amsterdam recently, i came across...the lauriergracht! readers of max havelaar will recall that lauriergracht no. 37 is the address of the satirical character droogstoppel, coffee-broker (makelaar in koffie, in dutch) with the firm last & co. i didn't know this canal (gracht means citycanal) really existed, but now of course i had to take my children to see no. 37...and to my surprise this is what i found:



lauriergracht no. 37, amsterdam

if you look sharply, you will see the aged and faded letters on the stone read: last & co, makelaars in koffij. i can tell you, i was quite surprised. but some research showed me that the stone was placed later, at no. 37, as an ode to multatuli and his character droogstoppel. droogstoppel actually starts off max havelaar with:

I AM a coffee-broker, and live at No. 37 Lauriergracht. It is not my custom to write novels, or any such thing; so it was a long time before I made up my mind to order a couple of reams of paper and begin the work which you, dear reader, have just taken up, and which you ought to read if you are in the coffee business — or, in fact, if you are anything else. And not only have I never written anything which was in the least like a novel, but I don’t hold with even reading anything of the sort, because I am a man of business. For several years past I have been asking myself, What is the use of such things? And I am perfectly amazed at the impudence of poets and novelists in palming off upon you things which have never happened, and, for the most part, never can happen. Now, in my business — I am a coffee-broker, and live in the Lauriergracht, No. 37 — if I were to send in to a principal (a principal is a man who sells coffee) an account containing only a small part of the untruths which are the main point in all poems and romances, why, he would at once go to Busselinck & Waterman. (Busselinck & Waterman are coffee-brokers too; but it is not necessary for you to know their address.) So I take good care not to write any novels or send in wrong accounts. I have always noticed that persons who let themselves in for that kind of thing generally get the worst of it. I am forty-three, and have been at the Exchange for twenty years, so that I have every right to put myself forward when a man of experience is in demand. I have seen plenty of firms fail in my time; and usually, when I examined into the causes of their failure, it seemed to me that they must be sought for in the wrong direction given to most people in their youth.

I say, “Truth and sound sense!” And that I stick to. The mistake comes in, in the first place, with Van Alphen, even in his very first line about the “dear little creatures.” What on earth could induce this old gentleman to call himself an adorer of my little sister Truitje, who had sore eyes, or of my brother Gerrit, who was always biting his nails? And yet he says that “he sang these verses, compelled by love.” I used often to think, when I was a child, “Man, I should like to meet you, just for once; and then, if you refused me the marbles I should ask you for, or the whole of my name in chocolate letters, then I should consider you a liar.” But I never saw Van Alphen. I think he was already dead when he used to tell us that my father was my best friend — I thought far more of Pauweltje Winser, who lived next door to us — and that my little dog was so grateful for kindness! We never kept dogs, because they are dirty.

That is the way children are brought up; and later on, come other lies again. A girl is an angel! The man who was the first to discover that never had any sisters of his own. Love is bliss! One is going to fly, with one object or another, to the end of the earth. The earth has no ends; and, besides, love is madness. No one can say that I do not live happily with my wife. She is a daughter of Last & Co., coffee-brokers. I am a member of the most respectable club in Amsterdam. She has a shawl that cost ninety-two florins. And yet there was never any question between us of a foolish love like that, which insists on living at the very end of the earth! When we were married we made a little tour to The Hague; she bought some flannel there, and I am wearing undervests made of it to this day; but love never drove us out into the world any farther than that. Bah! it is all madness and lies!

It is not verses alone that seduce the young into untruthfulness. Just go to the theater and listen to the falsehoods that are being spread abroad there. The hero of the play is pulled out of the water by some fellow on the point of going into the bankruptcy court. Then he gives the fellow half his fortune. Why, such a thing could not possibly happen! Not long ago, when my hat was blown into the Prinsengracht, I gave the man who brought it back to me four cents, and he was quite satisfied. Of course I knew I should have had to give something more if it had been myself that he pulled out, but certainly not half what I possess. Why, it is clear that, on this principle, one need only fall into the water twice to be ruined! But the worst of it is, with such things represented on the stage, the public gets so accustomed to all these falsehoods that it thinks them fine, and applauds them. I should just like to throw a whole pit-ful of such people into the water, and see whose applause was sincere. I, who hold by the truth, warn every one that I am not going to pay so high a salvage for the fishing up of my person. Any one who is not satisfied with less may just let me stay where I am. On a Sunday, however, I should pay rather more, because then I wear my gold watch-chain and my best coat.

Yes, the stage ruins many — still more than the novels. It looks so well! With a little gold tinsel and paper lace things can be made so attractive — for children, that is to say, and for people who are not in business. Even when they want to represent poverty on the stage, the picture given is always a false one. A girl, whose father has gone bankrupt, is working to keep the family. Very good. There she sits, then, sewing, knitting, or embroidering. But just count the stitches that she takes in the course of the whole scene. She talks, she sighs, she keeps running to the window, but she does not work. The family who can live on such work as this must have few wants indeed. Of course a girl like this is the heroine. She has thrown several villains down the stairs. She continually calls out, “Oh, mother! mother!” and thus represents virtue. What sort of virtue do you call that, that takes a year to finish a pair of woolen socks? Does not all this give people wrong ideas about virtue and working for their living?

Then her first lover — he was formerly a clerk at the copying-book, but now a millionaire — suddenly comes back and marries her. Lies again. A man with money will never marry a girl from a house that has failed. And then, virtue rewarded! I have had plenty of experience in my time, but still it shocks me terribly when I see truth perverted in this way. Virtue rewarded! Isn’t it just like making a traffic out of virtue? It is not so in this world, and a very good thing it is that it is not. Where is the merit of being virtuous, if virtue is to be rewarded? Now, I am as virtuous as most people, but do I expect to be rewarded for it? If my business goes on well — which, in fact, it does; if my wife and children keep in health, so that I have no worry with the doctor and chemist; if, year by year, I can put away a little sum for my old age; if Fritz grows up a good man of business, so that he can step into my shoes when I retire and go to live at Driebergen — well, if all these things are so, I am quite content. But all that is a natural result of circumstances, and of my attention to business. I don’t ask any special reward for my virtue.

That I am virtuous is quite evident from my love for truth. This, next to my attachment to our orthodox belief, is my ruling passion. And I should like the reader to be quite convinced of this, because it is my excuse for writing this book.

icarus 4: multatuli

ok. let me step outside of the visual arts for a moment, to introduce you to someone who is still -i believe- little known outside the netherlands:



statue of multatuli (by hans bayens) amsterdam

multatuli is seen by many as the greatest dutch writer ever, anyway i think he's a great writer [what great means i leave be, in the light of the ongoing chautauqua on quality; it looks like a gpr-qualification (gpr=generalized pagerank) but can also be simply personal, which is how i use it.]

although he is most famous for his revolutionary work max havelaar, or the coffee auctions of the dutch trading society, to which i will come back, his 7book work ideas is perhaps the most direct inspiration for this weblog to have seen some light of day (electrons of night is more accurate but would you get the analogy?).

to understand this, you should know that multatuli's numbered ideas are in their essence and form a weblog avant-la-lettre. but they date from the second half of the 19th century. they also contain a play and an entire, wonderful novel called woutertje pieterse.

yes, yes, you're getting impatient, i know. what the buzz does this multiperson have to do with icarus...

well, take the time to follow the links above, then you can read in what way multatuli was so far ahead of his time, and flying so much higher as to merit an association with icarus. in his ideas one can read also what his contemporaries write about him and his answers to this. and like boltzmann he put an imnsho lamentable amount of time and energy in trying to uplift his contemporaries to his own level. which, by sheer mass, results most often in being dragged down...

although? let me cite wikipedia on the longterm effects of max havelaar (written in 1860!):

The combination of these two strategies caused widespread abuse of colonial power, especially on the islands of Java and Sumatra, resulting in abject poverty and widespread starvation among the farmers.

Multatuli wrote Max Havelaar in protest against these colonial policies. Despite its terse writing style, it raised the awareness of Europeans living in Europe at the time that the wealth that they enjoyed was the result of suffering in other parts of the world. This awareness eventually formed the motivation for the new Ethical Policy by which the Dutch colonial government attempted to "repay" their debt to their colonial subjects by providing education to some classes of natives, generally members of the elite loyal to the colonial government.

Indonesian novelist Pramoedya Ananta Toer argued that by triggering these educational reforms, Max Havelaar was in turn responsible for the nationalist movement that ended Dutch colonialism in Indonesia after 1945, and which was instrumental in the call for decolonisation in Africa and elsewhere in the world. Thus, according to Pramoedya, Max Havelaar is "the book that killed colonialism".

to be continued.