I Found My Mojo

It was lurking behind the tissues of a Kleenex box. No, seriously.

Since my last post I have come to recognize a flu bug in our midst. This might also explain the missing mojo I mentioned previously.

At any rate, the weather is helping me feel justified about staying indoors. Yesterday we woke up to snow on the ground with a HIGH of 31°F .Today is a bit better, in a sense, because the high is 35°F. Unfortunately the wind is blowing with gusts up to 30 miles per hour so the wind chill factor makes it feel like 23°F. I had reservations for dinner on a ferris wheel at the beach later today but decided to cancel for our health and safety. Maybe conditions will be better and we can go tomorrow.

Alas this is the situation. I am ill but getting better, stuck in an airbnb in one of the world's greatest cities during an historic cold snap. I have found my mojo. Now it's just a matter of dragging it out of the Kleenex box.

The Hague and the Little Matter of My Missing Mojo

Five days ago, Hope and I made the move from Haarlem to Den Haag, a large city southwest of Amsterdam which is also known as The Hague.

Since we arrived here I have been to four museums, interviewed three curators, taken one Uber, ridden several trams and ordered Deliveroo three times. Today's meal -- Lebanese falafels with hummus and bahklava for dessert from Amier-- was arguably the best.

Somewhere in the scurry I have lost my mojo. To be honest, I have about 12,000 blog topics lined up in various stages of draft. That is almost NOT hyperbole. But the time is going very quickly, and our pace even quicker.

And now the little problem of energy, or lack thereof, has caught up with me. I have lost my mojo.

When I review the situation objectively it seems relatively straightforward.

I have been living out of a suitcase for over two months now. Often this requires washing clothes in the sink and drying them on the line. Rainy weather, such as the kind we experienced this afternoon, can make the second stage of the laundry process a challenge.

And because we are loaded with luggage I have resisted the urge to buy new clothes; therefore I have almost literally been wearing the same three pairs of pants, socks and shirts for nine weeks. It's probably best that I don't even get started talking about how unfashionable my winter boots are. They keep my feet warm and dry, and they allow me to walk six or seven miles a day in relative comfort. So I'm stuck with them until the rains stop.

Last week, in an effort at reducing our load, I shipped a box of books and some of the heavier winter clothes back home to David. It cost over 100 euros, and I suspect he will have to pay duties on it too. So I probably won't be doing that again.

And there you have it. There is much more for me to say, but I just don't have a lot of energy right now. Stay tuned for the return of the mojo!

More About Pieter Janszoon Quast

Pieter Jansz. Quast
Self Portrait, c. 1635
oil on panel, 14 x 13 cm
Private Collection,
Münster, Germany

Pieter Janszoon Quast, born in 1605 or 1606, was a painter and engraver who spent most of his life in Amsterdam and The Hague.

According to the marriage banns published on 29 June 1632, Quast was betrothed to Annetje Splinters while he was living in the Molensteeg, a narrow street near the harbor in Amsterdam. 

Today that area of the city is known as the Red Light district to tourists, or De Wallen to the Dutch. Indeed Molensteeg is one of the streets that I reported stumbling upon in an earlier post. 

Since this neighborhood has been the center of prostitution in Amsterdam for about 600 years, and because some art historians claim Quast was born on Molensteeg, there's a strong chance his family was poor and illiterate. This might explain why nothing is known about his early childhood. 

Therefore the first record in the archives about Quast must suffice to fill in the details: the marriage bann in June 1632 and the subsequent wedding with Annetje which took place on 19 December 1632 in Sloten, a nearby village. At some point after the marriage, Pieter and Annetje moved to Den Haag, as he was registered with the artists' guild there in 1634.

The self portrait depicted above runs from that period of Quast's life. The original image is in color, but is held in a private collection. Unfortunately, I have been unsuccessful in locating a color image online. Provenantial records claim the following details about it: Quast depicts himself with "curly wide hair, [a] large beret with notches, [a] string of beads around [his] neck, [a] tube with notches, [his] cloak loosely folded, [and a] chain (?) around [his] shoulders." He looks boldly at the viewer from under a stylish beret. No known portrait of Annetje exists.

The couple had two children, a daughter named Constantia Quast who was born in 1639 and another unnamed child in 1641. Pieter passed away in Amsterdam in 1647. Annetje, his widow, had an eventful life of her own and went on to marry again after Pieter's passing. I will write more about her in another post.

Quast's life was short but momentous.

As part of the Dutch School of artists, Quast's work helped lay the foundation for many of the masters who followed.

His paintings and engravings often feature the daily lives of the poor and elderly, typically with an emphasis on the morality of a situation. This kind of didacticism early in the 17th century developed, by mid-century, into the vanitas images I have written about in previous posts.

Pieter Jansz. Quast
The Foot Operation
n.d., oil on panel
30 x 41 cm
Rijksmuseum

A good example of Quast's work can be found in this image entitled The Foot Operation, c. 1635.

Here the viewer is witness to a surgical procedure of questionable hygienic quality. A splatter of the patient's blood on the floor alludes to the red sash and hat on his body.

In the lower left corner, a skull and open book rest mockingly behind the patient. These items, more than anything else in the room, express the impermanence of vanitas.

The man is aged already; this operation, conducted by a doctor with dirty hands and a filthy towel, tests the patient's life span. His death is foretold, to be read like an open book.

The religious statue on the cabinet above his head looms over him with judgment. The viewer's perspective is level with the subject, suggesting an equal status. We are him; this is our fate too.

Sometimes crude, often satirical, Quast's legacy can be found in the 167 paintings and engravings that are attributed to him. Typically the artist paints from his own life, thus it is quite possible that the scenes of ragged humanity Quast depicts in his work are replicates of the circumstances of his own short existence.

Pieter Jansz. Quast
Quarreling Women
n.d., oil on panel
29.53 x 37.15 cm
Crocker Art Museum

The Crocker displays a Quast in its European collection.

Undated and with a similar color palette as the Rijksmuseum, this image of two women fighting once again presents the viewer with the idea that the artist may have actually been witness to an event like this in his daily life. There is a strength and intimacy to it. One can almost hear the scuffle of the falling chair and the course words of the women as they kick, bite and pull each other's clothes.

In the tussle, a jug of milk has spilled. This would represent a financial loss for those living on the margin, thus making their violence a cautionary tale. Avoid this, avoid loss.

Two men stand behind them, notably not attempting to stop the women. This, too, contains a didactic quality. A person can be known by the company she keeps.

Quast died poor and humble in Amsterdam and was buried at the Nieuwe Kerk there on 29 May 1647.