THE ART IN THE FOREST

As I write this, the boat is preparing to go through one of the 18 locks it will traverse during this trip. I never understood locks and their function. I still may not fully know how a lock works, but I know how it feels.

The boat is between two stone walls. In front of the boar is a closed gate. To equalize the waters and allow the boat through, the water levels under the boar are increased—the boat is lifting higher and higher as I write this. Then, when the time is right, the gates open, the boat passes through, and the gates close again. Magic to engineers. Like floating on clouds to me.

Today was a late departure day, which was good for me. My fellow Peepers (except Marcia) are looking dreary and worn, which is exactly how I feel. I bypassed the on-board events this morning, bypassed Marcia’s walk to the city (Arnhem), and bypassed lunch. I did not, however, bypass a wonderful afternoon.

We traveled to De Hoge National Part, about 40 minutes from town. In the middle of the park, which is really a forest, is the Kroeller-Mueller museum, more than a gem of philanthropy and beauty.

The museum itself is located after a visitor’s center, for which was allotted 40 minutes. In the center was a sub-museum about the forest’s history and natural charms. Having sat in the back of the bus, and so being majorly car sick, I did not pick up the bus again at the center but got directions and walked directly to the museum.

What a walk. Cloudy, drizzly, windy and fine. Just what I needed. Of course I got off the path and was lost, but bike people pointed that I needed to turn around and I followed them until they were out of view. The part/forest has a thousand white bikes which people can just pick up, ride, and leave at a station. Apparently Amsterdam tried this, but the bikes were stolen. Not here. As I walked, I heard wushing sounds—wush, wush. I turned around, to move aside from what I believed was a car. No car. The trees.

After about 40 minutes, I made it to the museum, with welcomes from the outdoor sculptures. There is a big Di Suervo, that looks just like our orange sculpture on Wisconsin Avenue at home, except on its side, not standing up. And other pieces from the 20th century.

This gist of the story is that the wife of a business owner began taking art appreciation lessons with her daughter, who was preparing to study in another country. The wife became so passionate about Van Gogh that she embarked on her own intensive study. She bought at least 100 of his works, and others of similar ilk. The family lived in Den Hague, but bought parcels of undeveloped land on the site over the years. When their home ran out of room to show her collection, the family decided to build a museum in the forest. They made an agreement with the government to give her works to the government, in exchange for the government’s agreement to never develop the forest and to protect the works (and those collected in the future) from being dissembled or otherwise divided.

Even if you’re not into art, you would like this museum. It’s in a forest, after all. And the grounds are filled with all different kinds of sculpture, mostly modern. The building itself is single story and reminds me of a silver-stoned F.L. Wright design. Of course there were Van Goghs. And Seurat (Sunday in the Park with George Seurat). And sketches from one of my favorites, Modigliani (whose print I believed protected me when I could not sleep as a child). And the scary Ensor. But there was more. All sorts of more. Including video installations adjacent to a Mondrian (the guy with the black, red, and white rectangles). Including stuff that was way too modern even for me. And Gilbert & George (they put themselves in every picture), which I think is tacky. Nature and art. Art and nature. One and the same.

So, the kerfluffle day was redeemed. And so was I, because on the drive back I sat closer to the front of the bus.