On a scale of one to Sleeping Beauty, I'm actually too tired to think of something clever to finish this sentence. After a weekend in Amsterdam, "exhaustion" is the word of the evening, and sweater pants is the style of the moment. (Tales of my latest and greatest fashion selection are in my next blog post.) I spent 72 hours in Amsterdam and came out the other end smelling like...well, not like roses, that's for sure.
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| So. Many. Bikes. |
1. The attractive prostitutes do not work the day shift.
2. Don't take pictures of prostitutes unless you are prepared to buy them.
3. Even though the Netherlands is a super progressive country, some prostitutes are not fond of the idea of lesbian encounters and will express their distaste by hurling a half-full can of red bull at unsuspecting and stupid college kids.
(In case anyone is wondering, it wasn't me who took a picture of the prostitute. I was just behind the person who took a picture of the prostitute and got the shit scared out of me when she was almost hit by the red bull can. Along with the shot of energy, the prostitute had some other parting advice for us, which is too inappropriate to repeat, even on this blog.)
As a lover of walking tours, I was totally into the entire experience. However, even as I enjoyed and took in everything we were seeing and learning, I don't know how much of it I actually retained. Here's the thing about Amsterdam: it all kind of looks the same. There are dozens of canals and hundreds of bridges over these canals, which after a while just gave me the feeling of being on a really long, really dry ride at a water park.
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| You see what I mean? Beautiful, but similar... |
Luckily, there were two large squares that we used as landmarks. One was Dam Square and the other was Rembrandt Square. Dam Square was the big tourist center of the city, probably because of its giant palace and access to the red light district.
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| This is the palace. I don't know how to take straight pictures, apparently. |
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| This is either the backside of the palace, or a completely different palace altogether. I'm really bad at this. |
Because we were in a huge ass school group of more than eighty people, Dam Square became our default meeting place. It was here that we were later separated into smaller groups to visit the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam's largest (and only?) art museum.
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| A self-portrait of Rembrandt |
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| I honestly don't remember the historical event portrayed in this painting or the identity of the artist responsible for it. |
At the Rijksmuseum, we were guided by one of Emerson's professors who highlighted various pieces of art. She
explained their techniques, content, and history, which I found to be very interesting. A lot of people do not like to be guided around art museums, but, when it comes to classical art, I don't know how to appreciate it unless I know the biblical backstory and the artistic technique. I'm one of those people who judges art based on its amount of original content. In conventional art, there isn't a whole lot of this, except in technique. However, I am a painting ignoramus; so I really appreciated learning about the specific techniques of different artists.
Even with all the classical art, my favorite one was a piece of modern art that doubled as a lobby decoration. Called "Grandfather Clock," this piece was a literal clock with a man's face for the face. Well, technically, it was a video of a man's face, and the face itself was blurred behind the frosted glass. The artist, who I'm guessing is also the man "in the clock," would change the time by drawing a new arrow for the minute hand every minute (duh) and a new arrow for the hour hand every hour (also duh). I was taken in by the innovation, execution, and total concept of this piece. I kinda sorta fell in love with it. And when I thought about the time and dedication it must have taken to film those original twelve hours of drawing and erasing, my appreciation doubled. Eat your heart out, Rembrandt. (Of course, this is the one thing I didn't take a picture of, because I'm an idiot.)
Anyway, I'd like to tell you more about my trip but you've read a lot already...and this is the internet. Some stories are not meant for the internet. Whatever happened to the oral tradition? I make a formal motion to bring it back. If you're also in favor, you know how to reach me. And maybe, after a long discussion about the importance of rhetoric, we can initiate our new practice with a couple of stories...
I happen to like your photography! also agreed with the guided museum part - I mean, who knows anything about classical art?!
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