Amsterdam two weekends in a row. . .

. . . you'd think we were Dutch or something. This past weekend, we had our first visitors, the well-traveled and always enjoyable Kyla & Mike. After stops in London & Paris, they arrived in Den Haag; it was so great to see familiar faces. Kyla described her first glimpse of me as "bouncy". Although I have no direct recollection of this, it seems vaguely familiar.

We all stayed in our apartment the first night, and then spent the next two in Amsterdam. The past three days were filled with plenty of beer, conversation and laughs. Unfortunately, the only photo I have of the four of us together is the one above.

We toured former brewery of the ubiquitous Heineken; it was somewhere between one big beer advertisement, and a frat-boy's dream come true.


Included in the admission price was tokens for beer along the way. If only all museums took this into consideration . . .


Have you heard Amsterdam has a red-light district? It's true. But seeing as how this is mostly a PG-rated blog, I'll skip the details.

One of the biggest highlights was the Indonesian restaurant we ate at last night. We were the only tourists in the place, and it took us ages to order. Once we surrendered our desire to pick items off the menu, and allowed the man in charge decide what we were going to eat, we had one of the best meals to date.

It was raining almost the entire time, but that didn't subtract from our experience. Most patios were equipped with big umbrellas and heaters, which enabled us to pretend it was still summer.

Amsterdam is beautiful with wide kanaals, brick straats, and tall buildings that seem to be leaning at different angles. It is full of beautiful details and interesting things to look at, such as this gigantic games of chess.


One thing that amazes me the most is how Dutch people hold umbrellas while riding bikes. I can't help but think how dangerous this is, and how I would surely topple if I suddenly needed to brake. Sometimes two people riding side-by-side would even share an umbrella. It's hard enough to keep in step when you're walking next to someone! My bike-riding skills have been seriously humbled since arriving. Honestly, if the only think you're doing is riding the bike, you're wasting valuable time.

We saw more of Amsterdam than the first visit, but we still don't feel as though we know her yet. Luckily she is only 39 mins away, and I'm positive hasn't seen the last of us yet.

werk

I should have mentioned this a few days ago, but I got the job at that design studio. It's just one lady that owns and operates it, and it seems like such a great opportunity for me. It's only part-time and I'll have to find something else eventually. But in the meantime, it's great.

I had another interview yesterday with a publisher for a freelance job. They specialize in publications for Expats, so I figured I was a pretty good candidate to design for them. One of the biggest benefits is that everything they publish is in English. I've already been given an assignment. The publisher is proposing to create a handbook about Dutch life for kids who move to Holland, and has asked me to create the presentation for him to give to investors. Because this project is so young, I have a lot of freedom which is great. Basically I have to research what kids aged 7-14 are into, and come up with a visual language for the book. If the project is given the green light, I'll be the designer for it. I hope this happens, not just because I want the work but because I'm already thinking about all the fun stuff I'm going to learn about this country, like about candy, theme parks, swimming pools and all that great kid stuff.

For the record, the reason why he considered me for this project was because I sent him a portfolio. He saw my Big Things in Small Towns project, and thought this project could be in a similar vein. (I've shown that project to three Dutch people, and they are amazed that "Big Things" exist in North America. One of my favourite comments was "You would never have these in Holland. There are too many committees that would not approve of this.")

I also was supposed to have another interview today at a different studio, but it was canceled and will be rescheduled on Monday. Supposedly the studio director was "stuck in Amsterdam". Like, is he immersed in glue? I was bummed when it was canceled, but understand that these things happen. This studio is really awesome, so keep your fingers crossed for me.

There's still one other studio that said they want to set up an interview, as well. So hopefully one of these leads will amount to full-time work.

Het Voedsel (Food)

Grocery shopping is sometimes a surprise adventure. For the most part, even if we can't read the labels, we can tell what the product is by looking at it. But sometimes, finding what you're looking for is unexpectedly tricky. Usually when this happens it can be categorized as one of the following scenarios:

1. Things are packaged differently than we expect ie: condiments in tubes.
2. We are looking for a very specific thing, and we don't know the Dutch word for it.
3. We're in the meat section.

The dried herb & spice section is definitely one of the hardest to navigate. Ross takes his herbs & spices very seriously, and the first time we went to the store we easily spent over half an hour picking up the little jars, and trying to figure out what was inside. Now when we go to the store, I try to divert him from the spices by seeing if the deli has any samples of kaas (cheese).

Some of the spices were easy to figure out like basilicum, rozemarijn, tijm. Some we weren't sure of, but were willing to trust our instincts, like komijn (cumin), and zout (salt). But some are so different that we needed translated. What is knoflook poeder, knolselderij, & peterselie? Garlic powder, celery root, and parsley, obviously. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't disappointed when I found out the jar with the exciting and curious label dragon--which spurred ideas of a magical and powerful meal--was just plain-old tarragon.

Reading a menu is pretty much a stab in the dark, but the little French I learned in school has found a use. Sometimes we can figure out a meaning by recognizing the French root. For example framboos is raspberry, a pompelmoes is a grapefruit, and champignons are what both the Dutch and the French call mushrooms.

I've learned to look out for anything with paard (horse) in it. We've also learned that if a broodje (sandwich) is €2 or less, it's probably not lekker (delicious). We've eaten bitterballen, which was lekker. Ross tried haring, which he thought was lekker, but had to stop because he was allergic to it. I haven't tried it yet.

For the most part, the brood is not-so lekker. We are fortunate enough to have a great bakery on our street, which also makes very lekker-looking candies and chocolates. For a treat, Ross likes to head down for some appleflappen. This happens almost every day.

Cooking without an oven has been interesting, and we've accommodated by making pasta sauce, stew, chili, and of course kerrie. No, not cherry – curry. The stores here are filled with so many different kerrie pastes, and hopefully we'll get a chance to try many of them before our time here is over.

Typographic Superheroes

One thing that has occurred to me over the last few days is how strange it is to be studying under such profound and important people in the field of typography. There have been at least two instances over the last week where – during a class discussion – I have been reminded of an example of a project undertaken by this designer or that designer, and have felt sharing it would be a relevant addition to the discussion. Both times this happened, I slowly raised my hand indicating I had something to say and then quickly realized that the designer behind the project I wished to discuss was actually one of my teachers. I cannot say exactly why, but the idea of using this as an example became quite odd and I felt a bit silly for thinking of it. In both cases, I quickly withdrew my intention to speak.

I am sure this will happen many more times in the future.

Finally!

We have hot water again. It mysteriously came back late last night.
This is so much better.

Day Four

without hot water. This is losing its charm.

I've been home all day, waiting for the contractor to show up to fix our water "kettle". We're told that it might be a bigger problem than expected, and they might have to order a new kettle for us. As a way to pass time, I call our rental agency every couple hours, and ask if there's an update, and keep reminding them we want this fixed today. There's still an hour an a half before the work-day is done . . . do you think they'll make it?

I was watching some TV today, because I thought that might be a good way to listen to some Dutch, and was surprised that The A-Team is broad casted in the middle of the day, with Dutch subtitles. Who would have thought?

UPDATE: It's going to be another day. Think of us while you're having a nice hot, relaxing bath tonight.

Some more shapes for you

I'll try to make a better effort to post some actual work I've been doing, but for now, here's a piece of generated imagery made with Draw bot. You can see how the programming is getting slightly more complicated. Impressed...? I am. (Click the image to make it bigger)

All Our American Dreams, Y'all.

At the end of our street is one of The Hague's oldest and most loved shopping streets, Reinkenstraat. Since we first moved in the neighbourhood, I've been eagerly anticipating a special day that was advertised in all the shop's windows: All-American Day. The posters promised Harley Davidsons, vintage cars, and hamburgers. Mmmm-mmm.

Finally, All-American Day arrived. Yesterday we headed down with two of Ross' classmates, and another Type & Media girlfriend to see how the Dutch do America. Well, it was so . . . wholesome. A five-piece brass band played upbeat music while we strolled down the streets lined with red, white & blue balloons. Parked on each side of the street were vintage cars that surprised me. How did these things get here?


There were at least a handful of bikers decked out in leather, but for the most part, people looked like this:


We drank Champagne--since you know, that's so American--and ate biscotti at a chocolate fountain (another staple of American culture.) In fact, the only thing that actually felt genuinely American were these gigantic bags of dog food that were being sold at a booth.

The highlight of All-American Day was hamburgers and a bucket of grilled chicken from the butcher.


For no reason in particular, Ross asked that I post this photo.


And last but not least, All-American Day featured a Karaoke Bus. We didn't go inside cause I don't sing Karaoke during daylight hours, but it was definitely getting heavy use.

Feels like the Fourth of July, don't it?

Wannabe Grad Student

Yesterday I tagged along with Ross' class on a Day Trip to Amsterdam. Twelve of us met at the train station and took the hour-long ride to the first city of The Netherlands. It was both mine & Ross' first time there. Unlike most people's first visit to Amsterdam, this was educational and we'll remember it.

We met up with Ross' program director at the Stedelijk Museum to check out one of it's current exhibits. The 40 best Dutch designed, printed & bound books of 2006 were on display. There were many examples for a class of type majors and a book-designer to be inspired by.

Afterwards we had a koffie, warme chocolademelk, and appeltartje in the hip restaurant on the top floor, Bar Club 11, and checked out the views of the city.

We then walked 15 minutes to the tiny and smoky printhouse, De Buitenkant, and marveled at the quality and beauty of the publications by a small group of individuals. Beatrice Warde's broadside "This is a Printing Office" was prominently displayed.

Afterwards, the ten students, two tag-along girlfriends, the program director, the printer, and one woman in orange tights all went for a drink or two at a pub around the corner, before heading back to The Hague.

This weekend in The Hague is Today's Art an art festival, and it is awesome. There are many films, shows, performances and music in various locations around the city. The most interesting part, however, is how the spaces in between these venues are transformed for the events. Projections of images and videos turn public spaces into galleries and narrow streets host video installations. There isn't way-finding installed; it's projected. The main feature is a large shopping street transformed into an airport runway. Flashing lights as bright as day line the sides, and speakers that nearly break your eardrums, simulate being beside a 747 as it's taking off. It was awesome, and both Ross & I are amazed how a small city like Den Haag can host such an event.

Stay tuned for more about today' events, and hopefully some photos.

PS: Ross & I don't have hot water this weekend. We both had cold showers yesterday, and our mini-hot water tank won't be fixed until Monday, at least. Our apartment sure is purty, but it's come with more baggage than anywhere else I've ever lived.

Type & Media Group 07/08

This is half of us standing in front of some big posters displaying the projects of five past students. Photo by Erik Van Blokland.

Peice of Dutch Cake.

After approximately:
• five weeks
• six appointments
• €50 in phone calls
• two hours on hold
• two hours of speaking with an operator
• €15 in tram tickets
• three letters
• three hours in waiting rooms
• two visits to the Aliens Police
• one visit to the Canadian Embassy
• four visits to the Belastingdienst (tax office)
• one visit to the Immigration office
and,
• being told "That's not possible." innumerable times,
I have a SOFI number. This means I am permitted to work, and get paid, in The Netherlands.

I think I should frame it.

Prinsjesdag 2007

The third Tuesday in September is always a Dutch National Holiday, Prinsjesdag. On this day in The Hague, the the Queen addresses the Parliament about the upcoming year in government.


A procession from Noordeinde Palace to the Binnehof (Parliament Buildings) takes place, consisting of many people in uniform, many horses, many marching bands, many machine guns, and many funny hats. The highlight is the Queen in her Golden Coach.

The streets were lined with people of all ages. The procession goes by, and the Queen and all the members of Parliament enter the Binnehof. After the Queen's speech is made, the procession goes back to the Palace. So, you get two parades, with a one-hour break in the middle.




These guys look like the miners from Stratego.




Queen Beatrix in her Golden Coach. I've never seen a Queen before, so I was pretty excited.

That's some ride.

Ah, Prinsjesdag. Over for another year.

It's Official

Type & Media is now an internationally accredited Masters program. For anyone that wasn't aware, the Dutch educational system was overhauled about 6 years ago and any applied/practical studies were taken out of universities and placed in what is called a Hoogeschool.

Since this changed the structure of the program it meant that schools had to re-accredit themselves. This is something that is based on the previous 5 years of output from the course and, given that this is now the 6th year of the Type & Media program, it was finally able to apply for accreditation.

It was a really big deal and a few famous people in the type and graphic design world were there; Erik Speikermann and Paul Barnes in particular. It took about 6 hours behind closed doors and many levels of questioning on behalf of a government committee, but the results were as mentioned above.

What impact this has on me is not entirely certain yet, and even though it has been agreed that it will be granted the status of a Masters program, the details will be worked out in a summary presented by the accreditation committee. This should take about six weeks and by January I should know exactly what I'll be graduating with.

Though, as Erik Speikermann put it, everyone thought of us as a full masters anyway.

R'dam hip.

Yesterday we made the journey to The Netherlands' second city, Rotterdam. For those of you that aren't familiar, Rotterdam is the world's second busiest shipping port, (after Shanghai) and has been for 800 years. Pretty impressive for a city that isn't on the ocean! During WWII, Rotterdam was completely flattened by German bombs, and the city has been forced to rebuild most of itself.

For this reason, it was amazing we were only a 20-minute train ride from Den Haag. Nearly everything is so new, and so, so cool. It's as though the intention of the city was to move forward from it's atrocious past by embracing the future. Everything is very angular, very colourful, and not at all shy. The presence of the water and the barges actually felt a lot like Vancouver, But Rotterdam makes Vancouver's architecture look like week-old bread (but we still love you!)


Balance was major theme in the architecture. Nearly every building broke free from the conventional box in exciting and original ways.



The above image is the headquarters for KPN, the Dutch telephone company. Notice how it appears the building is resting on a pole. We were very impressed, but after seeing it, we realized why it costs so bloody much to make a phone call in this country.

The above photo is one of Rotterdam's obvious highlights, the 2600-foot long Erasmus bridge (nicknamed "De Zwann"/the Swan). It is so elegant.

We were admiring a public square when it was suddenly swarmed with hundreds of 14-year old Dutch skater-punks. There was a steady stream of these kids for a good five minutes. We have a short video that I will try to post, as well.


Rotterdam's beautiful, Het Park.

Tragically, I dropped the camera in Het Park, and it's currently out of commission. You, know, just your average stress fracture. We do have hope that it can be repaired, and in the meantime are using Ross' D-SLR. (FYI: I dropped the camera while I was putting the wrist-strap on. My heart is crushed.)

One Month!

It has been exactly one month since we departed from Vancouver. As a strange coincidence, we spent the day doing the same thing as the day we left: flying our kite.


Kite-surfing is very popular.

Drawbot

The first week of school is officially over. It was a fairly relaxed week due to the fact there is a big typographic conference in England and a few of our professors are there. There have, however, been a few things which have been keeping me more than occupied. I don't have many pictures to show of what we've been doing and I gather that reading about things like digital revivals, and pointed nib calligraphy won't be all that interesting for the majority of you. So...I'll go straight to the good stuff.

On Monday we were introduced to the programming language Python. It's a language that is used in a lot of software applications including Fontlab. The idea is to learn how programming can a) make parts of the process much more efficient, and b) enable design possibilities that exist outside of the software's standard capabilities. To learn some basic programming, we've been tinkering in an application called Drawbot, which our teacher Just created. It's neat how just a few lines of text generates a whole slew of shapes. If you don't believe me have a look here (text on the right with generated shapes on the left):






I know, I know. The images don't look like much and you're probably thinking "he went all the way to Holland and dragged Grace along with him to make those". And the answer would of course be: yes. But, before you judge, take a look at this:




Do you feel like you just stepped into a warm shower and have pulled that gorgeous, rubbery shower curtain to a close? I'm not surprised.

Our teacher said that he used to give this assignment with the instructions "use some of the basic concepts covered and create a repeated pattern with them." He told us that after three years of seeing students return with quite marketable patterns for shower curtains he has rethought the assignment. The new assignment: "Create a shower curtain."

I bought this:

When I was in my interview yesterday, I was told that my biggest hindrance as an employee would be that I don't speak any Dutch, and she would be nervous about me answering the phone. I guess they have a point.

Language classes are very expensive (€ 400), and although I want to take one, it will have to be something for another day. Instead for € 25'95, I got myself a key to the job market.

I've been told that the best way to learn a language is to watch Sesame Street and read Children's books. This kit above recommends borrowing children's books on tape from the public library, but warns that some children's literature is not stimulating to adults. Good thing there's a warning; I'd hate for someone to be disappointed by the lack of character development in The Three Little Pigs.

So far, I've got the alphabet. I kind of sound like this. Step 2 is to string the letters together, and I'm laughing!

For no reason in particular,

These three-wheeled wonders are everywhere, and in every colour.


I don't know what they are. Taxis maybe? The sign on the roof says Tuk Tuk.
If anyone knows, (Tanya, Meghan, etc.) please fill me in. I'd ask the drivers myself, but they're too busy whizzing around!

So far, so good.

Well, I had a job interview this morning at this place. I saw they were looking for an intern, so I called. The woman said they were also looking for a designer, and I should come by. So I did.

It was in a part of town I've never been to before. It was off of my map, so I gave myself plenty of time to get there, and peddled away. As I got closer, the area became increasingly industrial, and I became increasingly skeptical. Could there be a design firm in the midst of smoke stacks?

When I pulled up to the address, I was facing an old factory and thought for sure I was lost. Not only was I lost, I would now be late. I went around the building to the courtyard, and was surprised to see a handful of designer-y looking people setting up a photo shoot. It wasn't until I walked in the front doors that I realized I was for sure in the right place. This old factory had been given a second life as the host of a design community. It was kind of like a mall, kind of like a school, and entirely filled with creative studios, ranging from design, film, and multi-media. It was so cool! There was even a swanky cafeteria were everyone eats lunch together.

The interview went well, and I should know by the end of next week. I also heard back from another firm, but they said they're too busy to interview until next month. So, if worse comes to worse, I should have another interview then. In the meantime, I'm going to send them one of these:


These are my little portfolio giveaways (now in three different shades!) that I spent so long making before I left. Originally they were paperback, but after crossing the Atlantic jam-packed with the rest of everything we own, they arrived warped. I was so disappointed. Luckily I discovered a shop that sells book binding supplies--including book cloth every colour of the rainbow-- and I hardbound them. This also conveniently covered up my foolish typo of "Nederlandse"; it was the only Dutch word I had in the whole damn thing, and I spelled it wrong.

Hopefully it won't be too long before I get a job.

What's "herbal refreshment" in Spanish?

As discovered on a wrong turn in Madrid:


For those of you not familiar with the face above, it is Fat Freddy Freak, the biggest and the baddest of the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers, an underground comic book from the late sixties/early seventies-ish. All of the the Fabulous Furry Freak Brother's adventures are centered around the quest for "herbal refreshments." Honestly though, it's not just some lame stoner comic; it's really well done, quite witty, and has stood the test of time. If you can find it, look it up. Maybe if you ask me nicely, I'll show you the copies I was given when I come home.

I was introduced to the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers by my Uncle Gordon, and I've always thought if he was one of the Freak Bros., he'd be Fat Freddy (the biggest and the baddest, I said.)

So I post this today in memory of Gordon Partridge,
October 31, 1946 – September 12, 2006.

Fancy-Schmancy!

Check this out.
(Thank you, Abi)

It was the carpenter, with a paintbrush, in our one-and-only room.

The whole "strangers walking into our apartment unannounced" was cute at first, but I'm officially over it.

Ross went to school this morning, and I went to the Canadian Embassy. When I came home, the street door to our building was propped open. Both the chimney-cleaners and the contractors who are renovating the apartment next door have been doing this, since they don't have keys. I don't really like it since they usually forget to close the door after them at the end of the day. We store our bicycles just inside the of door, and they could be stolen. They're not worth much, but I'd prefer not to have to go through the effort of getting them again.

When I came upstairs, the door to our apartment was also open – not just unlocked, but open – and no one was in sight. Instantly I had a flashback to Ross & I leaving the house together at the same time today, he locked the door, and double checked that I had my keys. . . there was no way we left the door open. The house smelled like paint, and I noticed the door was freshly painted, so I didn't think it was an intruder. But even still, I did a quick survey of our belongings. (We're fine.)

I went to the apartment next door, where one of the renovators was sanding. His English is on par with my Dutch, so our conversation didn't get very far. He called his boss, who I've spoken to a few times, and he assured me that no one from his company has keys to our apartment.

I then called the company we are renting through to find out who had been here, and why they left our apartment open to the general public. She assured me this is not the way they normally do business, and that before someone comes over, we must be notified (in my head I was thinking, yeah, right.) Immediately following this conversation, the mystery intruder walked in. . . it was the carpenter from our second day. He wiped some paint off the floor, and motioned that both sides of the door were wet, and left. He doesn't speak English, so I didn't bother saying anything to him. I just hope he stops inviting himself into our apartment.

In fact, I hope that all the random strangers stop walking in.

On a brighter note, I have some job prospects lined up.

On the down side, I learned that the woman at the Aliens Police did in fact fill out my paperwork incorrectly, and I'm not supposed to need a working permit; the Working Holiday Program is the permit. The actions to get this reversed may be very lengthy, and overly complicated, I am certain.

On the bright side, the woman at the Canadian Embassy gave me her card, and told me that if for some reason, it's going to take longer than 3 months, to contact her, and she'll be on my side. Cross your fingers I don't have to use her number.

Camera-ready.

This morning Ross & I went to the International Community Fair. It was held in the atrium of the City Hall (Stadhuis). It was a convention for Expats that introduces clubs, and services The Hague offers. It was kind of helpful, but was mostly aimed towards families that are relocating. There seemed to be a lot of Brits there.

Every time we tell someone what street we live on, they are very impressed. We think we must be in a really nice neighborhood (the Shaunessy of Den Haag, if you will), or something. This is really funny to us, because this apartment was less expensive than other ones we looked at. Who knew?

We were approached by some young me who wanted to interview us for a TV show for Expats called "What's Up!?" So Ross & I each took a turn in front of the camera answering questions like, "What's the worst Dutch food you've had since you've been here?" My answer for that was this package of cookies Ross & I bought at a grocery store that we thought was shortbread. When we opened it, it was crusty cinnamon toast.


We might even be able to see the show, since the random person who stopped by today was our Canadian neighbor from downstairs. She brought us some treats from the French bakery, and an old TV that they don't use anymore.

Last but not least, this is a sculpture outside of the Stadhuis. Isn't it weird? Every time I see it, I'm captivated by it's absurdity. You would never see this as public art in Vancouver.

Buying a Bicycle Part II

After the troubles we had yesterday trying to find bikes, we decided to reassess our strategy on how to seek one out. At the grocery store I noticed a small posting on a community bulletin board that said "Herens fiets/Dames fiets €95." (men's bike/women's bike €95. It was still expensive, but way better than anything we saw yesterday so I called.

The man who answered was English and gave me directions to his house. When we finally got there, (we had problems figuring out the bus) someone inside was bombastically playing the piano. At first we didn't want to interrupt--it was so beautiful--but after a couple minutes, we realized we were creepily standing on the stairs outside of a stranger's house. So, we knocked. Obviously, he couldn't hear. So, we knocked louder. . . no answer. We knocked louder . . . still no answer. Ross pounded on the door. . . still no answer. Ross pounded on the door, rattled the mail slot, and pulled this random knob. . . and the playing stopped.

The man that answered the door, Terry, was a 5'3", 90-pound playboy in his late fifties. He was wearing white pants, a white shirt, and a white sport coat with black pinstripes. Picture Steve Buscemi playing Willy Wonka. He invited us in for tea, and seeing how we had nothing else to do, we accepted. His house looked like an antique store. There were Dutch antiques stacked to the the ceiling. I couldn't believe how much great stuff, from old typewriters, to irons, to shoes, to furniture, to kitchen supplies, to china, was in this house. You could barely move without bumping into something.


His wife, who looked like Donatella Versace, passed away 7 years ago. Her (really good) paintings covered the walls, and Terry showed us clothes she made by hand. It was obvious that he missed her very much. It was kind of sad, but didn't take away from how bizarre the mannequins wearing her clothes were.


In the middle of tea, he abruptly excused himself. He was suddenly inspired to add to the piece of music he is in the midst of composing, and went to the piano. The song he is composing is incredible; very passionate, emotional, and quite moving. It's dedicated to the children of Peru who were affected by the earthquake.


After about 15 minutes, he suddenly stopped, and said, "Well, you get the idea."

After this we went to look at the bikes. After nearly an hour of adjusting seats, gears, and taking test drives, Ross & I are the proud owners of bicycles! His is an old Dutch roadbike, and mine is an Austrian antique. I think I'll call her Leisl.