Hedd Wyn [Blessed Peace]

Proud participant

I have just enjoyed an interesting, some might say, a unique and singular, evening at Langemark near Ypres when I attended a most moving ceremony at the Sportsman Bar where, every first Monday in

The Hero in the original Welsh

the month, there is a ceremony to honour the dead of the Welsh who fought close by in WW1. I had, in fact, discovered the special place which a Welshman, known by his Bardic name of Hedd Wyn, but christened Ellis Humphrey Evans, still holds in the affection of people who live there but especially of Marc Decaestecker, the bar owner and local caterer. Indeed his place is virtually a shrine to Hedd Wyn [Blessed Peace] who was killed on the first day of the Battle of Passchendaele on July 31st 1917 six weeks before he was awarded the first prize in the Birkenhead Eisteddfod for his poem, The Hero. There were countless tributes and a small shrine to Hedd Wyn in the bar and beyond in a large exhibition of WW1 material, evidence of Marc's profound interest in, and respect for, the poet and soldier who was, essentially, a Christian pacifist.

  

After the Battle of Passchendaele

The Welsh Memorial at Langemark

However, though reverence for Hedd Wyn is the basis for the evening, the ceremony of remembrance is for all the men of the 38th Welsh Division who fought and died on the nearby Pilcken Ridge. It is virtually a military-style event with readings in both Flemish and English; solemn and plaintive trumpet and bagpipe tributes; the monument, a focal point watched over by a tall flagpole with a Welsh flag breezily aloft. There are men in kilts and uniform, measured steps and sadness. It is an extraordinary ceremony one hundred and one years after the dreadful events of Passchendaele, the Third Battle of Ypres, when an estimated one million shells landed on Ypres in the three month-long conflict and the former timeless agricultural slopes were soon transformed into a hellish, extended mud lake deep enough to drown men and horses, There is small wonder that the Flemish have such strong feelings and reverence for the theatre of WW1 which transformed and degraded and robbed the lives of every family. As one man, involved in the arrangements and presentation, said to me, 'There isn’t a local family for many miles who hasn’t stories to tell.’ Faded voices;
still lives; echoes of sorrows. All of these are remembered in this simple, moving ceremony.

There are parallels between Flanders and Wales; each a small part of a larger country, each determined to retain its customs, culture and language in an increasingly homogenised world; each searching for peace and prosperity. This inspiring monthly act of remembrance acts as a tiny enduring beacon of that deep joint impulse.

The back of Hedd Wyn's Bardic chair,

draped for a year after his death 

in a black cloth.

AntwerpPhoto

Wednesday market, Brugge Markt

A very interesting day out with friends on Wednesday causing me to miss the market on the Markt and thus no flowers, fruit, salads or vegetables. That market is SO essential. So yesterday to Proxy for fruit etc and an on-the-impulse drop-in to the lovely handbag shop, Daneels, nearby to buy leather gloves. It is closing down in October after at least 30 years in its present position as the up-market, solidly reliable

Nordzandstraat, Brugge

shop for leather goods and it will be missed. It is shocking at present to see so many shops empty or about to be abandoned in Brugge, simply on the two main shopping arteries of Geldmanstraat leading to Zuidzandstraat and Steenstraat leading to Nordzandstraat. Last week I counted six vacant shops with more winding down. One hears that it is a sign of the times and changing shopping habits chiefly because of the Internet, but it adds rather a desolate touch to the bustling city we know and love.

The day out was to Antwerp to see an important photography biennial by AntwerpPhoto in the

Keith Richard in younger days.

former Pilot House, the erstwhile departure point for Antwerp’s harbour pilots. It is a protected building, normally not open to the public and is a neo-Renaissance palace dating from 1890 standing impressively on the banks of the River Scheldt. It is, in fact, greatly in need of lots of tlc and money while a decision is made about its future. However, its down-at-heel appearance and feel was splendidly attuned to the several photo exhibitions, particularly that on the ground floor; 1-2-3-4 by Anton Corbijn. It involved iconic images of world-class rock ‘n’ roll stars like Depeche Mode, The Rolling Stones, U2, Metallica and Nirvana. Corbijn moved to London in 1979 following the bands he admired and wished to photograph. There were some stunning images but the rather seedy musicians photographed in depressing warehouses, down-at-heel spaces and grimy wastelands, felt at home in the decaying exhibition space. A perfect fusion in fact.

Prix Carmignac photo of refugees, penned up.

The second exhibition was the Prix Carmignac which gave opportunity to photojournalists to explore in depth a region at the centre of global conflict where human rights and the luxury of free speech barely exist. The results were graphic and profoundly moving. The third exhibition,
Iconobelge, showed the work of 34 Belgian photographers who, each in his own distinctive manner, recorded the world around them. Although not a retrospective, nor a collection, it showed the personal search by distinguished photographers among their archives to produce an exhibition of rich imagery and powerful moments, snapshots in the purest sense. Michael Wolf, the fourth show, was an extended study in megacities documenting both architecture and local culture. His Architecture of Density showed Hong Kong’s skyscrapers as almost endless abstractions while his Tokyo Compression demonstrated human density trapped, for instance, in the metro where every centimetre of space is crammed.

Iconobelge celebratory photograph

Old Hongkong apartments

The one exhibition which took my breath away was the Prix Carmignac with its large wrenching photographs of black refugees, stripped of dignity, safety, humanity, their collective suffering vividly and individually endured stoically, fearfully and endlessly. The very worst aspects of human behaviour were generally implied; immigrants shown routinely humiliated, tortured, starved, sold and bought as animals, terrified and degraded. I have never read or seen a stronger case for both remedial and punitive action in any publication or exhibition before. The eloquence of this Prix Carmignac photography should move mountains.

Mick Jagger in drag, Glasgow 1996

Anton Corbijn

Prix Carmignac photo of 

women just sold.

Paris and Picasso

And shortly after my last blog was published, I whizzed off to Paris to meet my California-based daughter over to a medical conference in the City of Light. And a lovely interlude, that was. Super, and rare, to spend a couple of days with my darling eldest and great to return to Paris after about a quarter of a century! I shared her room in Claridges on the Champs-Elysees; a bit of a thrill to be there and more so considering the facilities and 

Fraser-Claridges Champs Elysees, 74.

Part of the main internal courtyard.

quality plus the lovely view below the balustrade down to a huge courtyard below. 

We had a gentle time, wandering, stopping to savour the view or have a coffee, checking out Montmartre, the Seine, the boulevards. Best of all perhaps, we had a long trip to the Musee d’Orsay to see the just-opened Picasso, Bleu et Rose, an absolutely wonderful and huge exhibition of these two periods of his early painting life. [A joint exhibition by the Musee d'Orsay and the Musee Nationale Picasso-Paris] The extraordinary inventiveness and richness of talent just pulsated from the many, many works of art on view from the period between 1900 and 1906. Picasso arrived in Paris at the Gare d'Orsay in 1900 aged only 18 but already a precocious and confident artist.

 The seven years, with Picasso dividing his time until 1904 between Barcelona and Paris, show a huge range of styles  with evidence of artistic experiments and explorations, emerging. His palette of bright colours, and his subjects, reminiscent of the Post-Impressionism of Toulouse-Lautrec and Van Gogh gradually shade into the blues and mauve monochromes of the Bleu period, [1901-1904] and eventually the rose pinks and reds of the 'Saltimbanques' period [1905- summer 1906] He also moved from depicting aspects of modern life, like the theatre and became immersed in representing the melancholy impoverished and inadequate like lonely absinthe drinkers and poor prostitutes.

Young Harlequin with Acrobat 1905

 It was a magical and privileged interlude for me not tainted by a last-minute dash Sian had to find me hanging around for the Thalys, from her Eurostar departure point, fortunately both in la Gare du Nord! I had claimed my passport from the room safe while the room was dark, early that morning and she slept. I had known I wouldn’t need my passport in the Schengen Area but couldn’t quite bring myself to leave it at home! So I had taken it from among a number of things in the safe and popped it directly into my handbag. Only, inadvertently, I had taken hers and subsequently, she, mine, without either of us thinking to check the name. But potential disaster was averted!

La Femme en Chemise [Madeleine] 1905

A favourite.

And a technicolour sky from my terrace to welcome
me back home to Beloved Brugge!

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