Triennale and Autoze Zondag 2018

The Minne Floating School

Just two days after the Triennale has officially finished, already some exhibits are being de-constructed. I am hoping that the Blue Whale continues to leap a little longer but the structure on the Burg was under attack before 8.00 this morning and I see that the external wooden staircase to the Urb Egg Cafe in the garden of the Poortersloge has already gone. Sometimes, the Powers-That-Be in Brugge get it wrong [witness the expensive facelift to ‘t Zand which looks like a big empty space without the statuesque fountain] but one has to admit that the organisation of various aspects of civic life are eye-wateringly efficient here!

Brugge Grote Markt Cultuurmarkt

Sunday 16^th September saw not only the wonderful Autoloze Zondag with its many, many external features; dancing for older people in front of the Stadschouwburg; Rommelmarkten in Hoogstraat and Langestraat; over 20 stallholders in the Cultuurmarkt representing many local groups and activities, including for children, in the Markt and in Sint Jakobstraat; mobility and traffic safety in the Burg; a dance work-out in the morning on ‘t Zand and a closing concert there at 16.30. And all beneath a cloudless sky and accommodating a veritable army of tourists in addition to enthusiastic locals.

Sunday evening, Kunle Adeyemi, a Nigerian architect responsible for the splendid Floating School at the Minnewater, gave a talk in the Concertgebouw in English. I was impressed that the large Flemish audience turned up for a lecture in English and even more impressed with the quality of what Meneer Adeyemi had to say! The Minnewater version of the Floating School was Mark 3; the first grew out of a response to the ramshackle overcrowded settlement living on a large expanse of water in Makoko, Senegal when space inland was scarce and expensive. The architect’s team had listened to many of the settlers, desperately poor but resourceful people, and in response to their comments about life on water, arrived at the first Floating School solution. Basically Mr Adeyemi is trying to provide ideas to accommodate a population explosion with a significant proportion of large towns and cities situated near water, chiefly coastline. His statistics were frightening; in Africa, 70% of large towns and cities are near water and 70% of these need only a small increase in sea levels to be submerged. He is especially interested in the impact of climate change and on the possibilities of living on water to cope with the varying demands of that climate change.

The original Floating School in Makoko,

used for many purposes like a daily market.

Open Monumentendag 2018

Bricked-up window in the tower remains
at Pieter Pourbusstraat 3.

Het Tolhuis, Jan Van Eyckplein

Lovely design, curving from ground to roof,

to mark the separation/joint of two houses.

Pieter Pourbusstraat 3 exterior.

Open Monumentendag was great in the last two Septembers, but this year, somehow for me, it didn’t quite hit the same spot. Partly because several of the houses could not be entered and partly because the commentary by the guides was long [40 minutes to 60] and obviously in Dutch. Previous years I was lucky in that the guides would add a few comments in English or explain something to me, at the end. Last Saturday, the group did, in fact, go into the Tolhuis in Jan Van Eyckplein for quite a long time but alas, it just looked like the former library it had been, with empty shelves and medieval traces either boarded up or otherwise absent. I have often longed to see inside the Tolhuis but my romantic imagination was thwarted, not to say, disappointed, when eventually I did go in. The building at Pieter Pourbusstraat 3 was beautifully preserved and the wonderful relic of the early mediaeval wall and the half-round tower in that wall, was visible to us in the garden of Number 3 but, alas, no entry into the building itself.

Biezenstraat 16 showing the lovely little 

mediaeval tower. Modern extension should

not have been allowed using anything except

old bricks!

The one building which I did love and would have so appreciated entry to, was at Biezenstraat 16 which had a lovely little tower,[Torre van Londen], deemed too risky for entry by the public.[Damned ‘elf ‘n’ safety’ again!] The whole building was charming and had, apparently, a beautiful mediaeval fireplace inside the house itself. Owners are afraid of theft from visiting groups understandably but entries to Open Monumentendag properties should surely be normally unrestricted. The information booklet on the properties open, is a delight for the Dutch speaker. Tantalisingly I can understand little of the detailed potted individual histories but many are really professional historical essays and provide excellent mementoes of pockets of Brugge’s history.

An oil painting of Oosterlingenplein by 

Antoon L Joostens, 1820=1886, Now 

called Woensdagmarkt. The tower on 

'my' bulding is in the background.

Anyway, at Biezenstraaat, for the last showing of the weekend, there were two guides so I was very lucky. One guide took round all the Belgians while the other, with excellent English, took me round the garden filling in some of the history since its foundation as the Heester van Gerard de Groote in 1449-50. Heester from the old French ester or aistre, refers to a site outside and around a house, perhaps like a small estate. Gerard de Groote was a schepen [alderman] in Brugge in 1449, 1453, 1458, 1461, 1463 and 1481. He was Burgemeester in 1466 and raadslid [councillor] in 1479 and 1485. Clearly, an important man who, interestingly for me, had some connections between 1462 and 1476 with the Oosterlingen [those from the East, Germans, probably merchants] which may have involved conflict. The area where I live, now called Woensdagmarkt, is in the old Hanse area and a street leading to it is still called Oosterlingenstraat.

The Hanseatic League was a commercial and defensive confederation of merchant guilds and market towns in North Western and Central Europe. It was established to protect the guilds’ economic interests and diplomatic privileges in their affiliated cities and countries. Generally, an area for trading in each city was established and in Brugge, the Oosterlingenplein was the designated Hanse area. Almost certainly there were periods of some conflict between Bruggean merchants and the Hanse hence the likelihood that Gerard de Groote was involved in some dispute. The fact that Gerard’s beautiful little tower is still intact in his former garden somehow brings the mediaeval life of Brugge almost within reach.

Merchant Vessels of the Hanseatic League by

Antoon L.Joostens 1820-1886

Flag on vessel depicts 2-headed eagle with red/white shield

on its breast which is the coat of arms of Lubeck described as

the Queen City of the Hanseatic League.

and a street leading to Woensdagmarkt is still called Oosterlingenplein.

The Hanseatic League was a commercial and defensive confederation of merchant guilds and market towns in North Western and Central Europe. It was established to protect the guilds’ economic interests and diplomatic privileges in their affiliated cities and countries. Generally, an area for trading in each city was established and in Brugge, the Oosterlingenplein was the designated Hanse area. Almost certainly there were periods of some conflict between Bruggean merchants and the Hanse hence the likelihood that Gerard de Groote was involved in some dispute. The fact that Gerard’s beautiful little tower is still intact in his former garden somehow brings the mediaeval life of Brugge almost within reach.

Merchant Vessels of Hanseatic League

Flag on ship showing 2-headed eagle with red/white shield

on its breast, bears the coat of arms of Lubeck,

described as the Queen City of the League.

Flowers are cut not killed

My middle grand-daughter, Niamh, has just been staying for a few days, mainly to do a Photo Tour of Brugge. But we found time to go to Sint Walburgakerk nearby where there was a brilliant exhibition of Ikebana, part of the European Regional Conference 2018 for three days. One of my friends who lived in Japan for several years, is a practitioner and enthusiast, hence my knowledge of the exhibition dates.

Sint Walburgakerk, Brugge

I have always admired Ikebana in a casual way but after the large and varied display in Sint Walburgakerk, and the sheaf of notes provided on the various schools of theory, I was moved to read around the subject a little. The first arresting statement I read, “In Ikebana, flowers are cut not killed” meant that I was hooked! Ikebana isn’t just Japanese flower arranging as I had thought; it is both an art and a philosophy which seek to capture the soul of the flower. Ikebana is a disciplined art form in which nature and humanity are brought together and is essentially minimalist, emphasising shape, line and form. Buddhism arrived during the 6^th century in Japan from China and Korea and with it came the custom of offering flowers on Buddhist altars from which eventually developed the highly-organised Ikebana.

The Silver Pavilion, Kyoto

A 7^th century Buddhist, Senmu, who stipulated that Art should demonstrate and develop harmony between Man and Nature, provided the basis for the later emergence of Ikebana which came about chiefly through the thinking and creativity of the 8^th Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshimasa (1436-1490). He was an influential patron of the Arts and the greatest promoter of Cha-no-yu, the Japanese tea ceremony, and of Ikebana. Also known as Kado, “way of flowers”, together with Chado, the tea ceremony and Kodo, incense appreciation, these three constituted the essential classical Japanese acts of refinement and all three evolved at Yoshimasa’s Silver Pavilion in Kyoto. There, Yoshimasa’s friend, the celebrated painter Soami, conceived the idea of representing the three elements, Heaven, Human and Earth, in Buddhist flower arrangements from which have grown the Ikebana principles of today.

The large exhibition itself was beautifully laid out and labelled, with exhibitors from Europe, U.S.A. Japan and China represented. And, of course, the wide variety of styles and form on view made for a feast for the senses. Several visitors spoke in awe of the demonstration on Thursday by the youthful Japanese Ikebana Master, Akihiro Kasuya. 

19th century print, The Fifth Month: The Ikebana Gathering

Japanese Ikebana Master, Akihiro Kasuya

Demonstration in Sint Walburgakerk

After a long hot summer, with long light days starting early, suddenly it is still dark when I get out of bed at 6.00 o’clock! It is just light when I leave the building at 7.40 to go swimming and still warm but it is also a gentle reminder of the approaching Autumn with its shorter days. But Autumn brings promises of cosy afternoons and winter treats; and mulled wine and Christmas markets; lighted shops and cafes luring in cold customers. Always something to look forward to in seasonal changes!

Virginia Woolf by Roger Fry c1917

I recently met a girl who had just graduated in French and English Language and Literature. I was thrilled to learn that her dissertation had been on Virginia Woolf. Inspired by this, I scoured my bookshelves to find stuff on Virginia, Vita Sackville-West et al. Cannot believe the immense satisfaction I obtained from looking over my shelves; so many books I had forgotten about; so many to be re-read! I now have a small pile of Virginia books to pass on to my young acquaintance and several other, newly-remembered books stacked up to read again. TWO new copies of The Bells of Bruges by Georges Rodenbach, more familiar, I think, as Le Carillonneur, one partially read; each from different German friends at different times together in Bruges before I lived here. Shame has caused me to immediately begin reading Georges again but admiration is driving me eagerly on!

I had not remembered how wonderfully complex the writing of Rodenbach is; how incredibly well he portrayed the mystical aspect of the town, and how inspirationally he writes about Brugge but always with the melancholy and mystical phrasing I half remember from Bruges La Morte. The story of Le Carillonneur is told through, and overladen with, a haunted, atmospheric dreamlike melancholia which imbues his narrative with a lingering and indefinable sadness. Recurrent images of empty provincial Sundays, of solitude,
of autumnal, often wintry, bleakness, crowd his narrative. The sun never shines on Le Carillonneur.





Interestingly, Alan Hollinghurst writes:

“Rather like A.E.Housman laying claim to an imagined Shropshire while walking on Hampstead Heath, Rodenbach evoked the dead city where he had never lived from his Paris apartment. "One only truly loves what one no longer has", he wrote. "Truly to love one's little homeland, it is best to go away, to exile oneself for ever, to surrender oneself to the vast absorption of Paris, and for the homeland to grow so distant it seems to die.” 

Rodenbach would certainly not have recognised the joyful tourist-thronged town evident for the last several months, full of free events like the Song of Freedom in tribute to the 100^th anniversary of the ending of WW1 over the last two evenings in the Burg where a free film had been screened a few days before. Nor the big Local Heroes celebration in Astrid Park tonight. A week ago Benenwerk, the dance celebration at various venues in the Egg entertained many thousands while Moods, a virtual month-long pop concert at free points around the centre, drew happy crowds in July and August. There is so much happening in Brugge all summer which invites thousands to love it for its life while Rodenbach loved Brugge for its melancholy dying.

Frank Deleu, Carillonneur of Brugge until Sept. 2017

In alle dingen ligt een lied. [Guido Gezelle]

Evgeny Sviridov

It is a curious thing that the MA Festival, currently in progress and accounting for this late entry, was perfect when I came as a tourist and listener; but now that I am a resident and a little older, it has become much more of an effort to attend. It has always been a high spot of the year since I started to come with Eric in 1989. The overall experience of being in Brugge for a week or so attending concerts, often two a day, was perfection. But last year, and more so this year, it is often a huge effort although when I sit and listen, entranced, in the Concertgebouw or, as this morning, in Onze Lieve Vrouw op ter Potterie, the same delight is experienced. Partly it is because I have another life in
Bruges now; partly it is the age-related slowing down and partly, this year, the intense and prolonged sunshine saps the energy and makes the body heavy. I have, at the moment, two lovely guests, one for the whole of the festival, and I do enjoy that but I have recently caught myself with the guilty longing occasionally to be alone!!

The pleasures of being alone are, though normal, nonetheless consciously appreciated by me, though I am sometimes asked if I am lonely. I am not. I keep in touch with my lovely family by email, What’s App, Face-time, even land-line and love the various activities I do. BUT in addition, I need time alone to re-charge my batteries; to follow my own little passions like Mah Jong and enjoying friendship; to think and to read; to potter on the terrace; to take a break from pleasing others or at least, from having to consider others, though I notice I both give, and receive, spontaneous little, “random acts of kindness”. It is all blissfully self-indulgent and easy as befits an octogenarian!! And it incidentally and effortlessly contributes to good mental and physical health. As the title above suggests, there is a song in everything.

Catalina Vicens

But to the point. Several stand-out concerts at the MA Festival this year; the most astonishingly gifted violinist, Evgeny Sviridov, laureate from last year’s festival, playing with the splendid Stanislav Gres on the clavichord, various violin sonatas from Tartini to Mozart, was the most memorable. Hail, Bright Cecilia by the Ensemble Correspondances on the last evening was superb but perhaps the most intriguing and impressive for me was Catalina Vicens playing various clavichords. She explored the age-old association between femininity and musicality in early works for harpsichord and virginals. The audience was hugely intrigued by a museum-piece, a Mother and Child virginal, beautiful to behold, wondrous to hear and ingenious to witness played!

Mother and Child Virginal.

Left-hand 'child' can be pulled out like a drawer,

placed on top and played in concert with 

the main keyboard.

Warre Dendievel

In the meantime, Brugge pulsed to lots of more popular music under the title, Moods, played on temporary stages, at various corners and squares in the centre, to the delight of the visiting crowds. And on Saturday August 11^th, this year’s Benenwerk: Ballroom Brugeoise again at various sites. This annual event features different types of dancing, under some professional instruction, to loud and catchy music. The atmosphere of the whole town is one of a loud and happy fairground helped along by numerous beer stands and counters. I walked home from Hail Bright Cecilia at the
Concertgebouw, marvelling at the lights and exuberance on display throughout the Egg. Infectious!

As if I had insufficient concerts this week, on Friday 10th August came the London Welsh Male Voice Choir fresh from a major performance in Ypres in the British Legion celebrations to mark the ending of WW1. Held in Sint Annakerk, the evening proved to be a huge success; plaintive,

 Balder Dendievel

Jappe Dendievel

victorious, wistful, celebratory, sad and joyful. The programme featured Welsh folk songs, well-known tunes from musicals, a mass for peace, prayers set to music, a 19th century trio of American traditional songs plus two very special spots provided by three young Flemish brothers on oboe, bassoon, trumpet and trombone. At 10, 14 and 16, the prize-winning Dendievel boys, Jappe, Warre and Balder  demonstrated great talent and maturity and rather brought the house down, as they say!

The London Welsh Male Voice Choir

Imminent Rants and Sighs of Content

I thought it impossible to meet someone who is even more delighted than I to live in Brugge, but I

Illustration is a cliché BUT the message hits the spot!

now know someone. A young Portuguese man who has worked here for a few months and is exuberantly grateful with his new life though his wife and two small children still live in Portugal; she is a university librarian but Daniel is working hard to persuade her to consider living and working here, if that is possible. The difficulty, of course, is for her to find a comparable job while she is learning Dutch. We breakfasted recently together and I was particularly struck by the fact that in Flanders, he earns 2000 euros a week but in Portugal, even though with a degree, five hundred was the best he could find. He, himself, is thrilled with the upturn in his fortunes but is especially enchanted that his line manager has told him recently that the firm wants to invest in him because he has potential. His face shone as he confided that no one had ever told him anything like that before and he is 40. The whole ethos in Portugal is different, he says; only a select few are valued and ‘ordinary people’ are considered expendable. In the meantime, he loves his job; is learning Dutch, with lessons paid for by his employer; he rents a flat, found for him by his employer; spends money in the local area on food, drink and some entertainment. Shortly, his little family will come to stay for three weeks, with activities planned by Daniel to the last degree, many of which will incur expenditure no doubt. I am a supporter of the European Union but it remains opaque as to why the more successful Western European nations cannot pass on to the poorer members, the message that good employment practice pays dividends. There is SO much the EU could do to improve its modus operandi but even so, the UK seems determined, unwisely, [for 'unwisely' read 'self-destructively'] to Brexit when it could have been a force for good within the citadel. But I must resist an anti-Brexit rant because it is so boringly predictable.

I have a group of Bruggelingen which meets for coffee, tea, beer and wine with English conversation, once a week. They have become a dear group of friends and they/we are amazingly congenial when one considers the random nature of how people became members. There are no rules; attendance is on a ‘when one can make it’ basis; there is no teaching so any learning is purely accidental or at best, occasional; one can leave whenever, so the leaving arc is roughly between 7.30 and 10.00 o’clock. However, I am considering a little lesson on the double negative [suggested by a member, possibly tongue in cheek] so that the relevance of Trump’s Putin remarks and pathetic, post-event, forced ridiculous ‘correction’, can be properly savoured. I would like to indulge here in a frenetic, anti-Trump, disbelieving, mystified rant about this vain, mendacious, lying, amoral carpetbagger temporarily using the White House as an El Dorado for himself and his family while he trashes American democracy, but I won’t because the New York Times does it so much better. Brugge is where I discovered the delights of the political reporting of the NYT and it entertains and challenges me every week. Yet another Brugge Plus. As I have possibly mentioned before, Brugge does seem to be the perfect place in which to site my ascent of the higher slopes of Later Life.

Oh dear. I see that the above two paragraphs both include an admonition to avoid ranting. I SO don’t want to become A Grumpy Old Woman. Surely this is a recent personal phenomenon, the rant, [not the avoidance of same]? Is it old age or is it the complete inability to understand majorities in two nations voting to shoot themselves in the foot so comprehensively which is the cause? Is it the mayhem in the U.S. and the threatened meltdown of trade and inter-continental movement including ease of holiday travel for the Brits, causing my inner bewilderment and anger OR is it merely age-resistance to change? I won’t discuss!!

But a closing mention of a traditional delight of the elderly; my terrace is a particular joy. It is floral and fertile; decorative and divine; private yet offering a sweeping architectural view to die for. It is ideal for me because I am the sole seigneur with all that solo power of decision-making yet with the scope to share it with others who may only admire. Patio Nirvana!

A corner of my terrace a year ago! I cannot work out how to

transfer photos from my new iPhone.

Hate new technology!

Putative rant stifled.

Motivation .... and inequality

The Waistcoated Wonder in action.

I regularly receive a bulletin from The Guardian, often containing some interesting articles on a variety of topics. One such this week was on the outlook and ethos of the present England football team, about to play Belgium for third and fourth places in the World Cup. I am not normally interested in any sport including football, the nearest thing to a national religion the U.K. has. BUT I have been impressed with the opinions expressed about Gareth Southgate, the England manager, and with his quoted remarks. He doesn’t sound like the hyper-masculine, conventional manager with crude opinions and language and the unspoken assumption that He is The Boss, second only to God. Southgate is emotionally intelligent, modest, reflective, empathic, thoughtful, restrained. I might be writing about a psychologist, a doctor, a professor not a football manager!

Pippa Grange, Head of People and

Team Development England Football Team

Because of this discovery, I clicked on an article on the England team and its psychologist, Pippa Grange, who has worked closely with Southgate and team members. Her message for the England team can be summed up in a few, brief points:

Don’t fear failure. Be courageous in aiming for what you want, overcoming the fear of failure.

Positive thinking is not helpful alone. Focus positively on the steps needed to achieve your desired outcome.

Try different approaches for different people in your target group.

Kindness, listening and empathy can be very effective. Use praise to motivate others.

Wisdom in a few sentences. [I may send this to Trump!] Coincidentally the first two points above sum up the approach which I have learned over many years, works for me in problem-solving. My posture is mysteriously failing; clearly the cause comes under the heading of Old Age but improvement, or at least, delay in deterioration, must be sought. My chief strategy at the moment is to import a personal trainer once a week, unaffordable though the clear hope is that weekly exercise, alone under the instruction of a trained instructor will help my problem. I am optimistic and realistically positive, she writes as she sits, round-shouldered, at the computer! After two sessions, I sense a slight possibility of improvement!! If it works, as I feel sure it will, it must be afforded!

To the Urb-Egg cafe in the garden of the Poortersloge [part of the Triennale] on Wednesday afternoon, to meet five local women who want to join the Thursday evening chat group at the Amsterdam but
cannot as there is really no room. Joined by one husband and his male friend, we enjoyed a thoroughly convivial afternoon at a scrubbed table beneath the shade of a large tree in the midst of a number of similar tables and groups.

Poortersloge. Urb-Egg Café

to the left of picture.

I was struck, as I looked around the makeshift café, by the many sociable opportunities in pleasant surroundings available to a wide portion of society. The quality of life for many is so good while millions of others, refugees, the Poor, illegal immigrants struggle against injustice and ignorance and yes, poverty. I read in The New Statesman this week that Britain has the widest gap between the very rich and the rest than in any other large European country. Society in the UK is the most unequal it has been since shortly after the First World War. And there are many studies to show that countries achieve more, produce more and become more successful and contented societies, when income inequality is narrow. Danny Dorling [in the N.S.] writes that, in Britain, we live in a time of peak inequality with dire consequences for mental and physical health.

He suggests that all the signs now are pointing to a time of great change approaching in Britain and introduces the irony that greater equality helps the rich as well as the poor, pointing to the fact that wealthy people in more equitable societies like Germany and Scandinavia live longer and happier lives than their British counterparts.