Originally intended as a small book, “Glimpses: In which a Casual Traveler Ruminates on Passing Scenes—1989-2011″, I should like to share it with my readers in a more informal manner as a series of Blogs.
Germany: Berlin: During one of my visits to our friends Jacky and Jörg, Jörg introduced me to his young cousin Silke, an artist who made delicate paintings on silk (an appropriate ground for a woman named Silke!). I spent an afternoon with her at her apartment to watch her at work, snapping photos of her as she applied her brush to the stretched panel of silk, her boyfriend hovering nearby all the while. (Silke is a beautiful young woman, and I could sense how uneasy he was to have a man spending so much time with her in her studio). How delighted I was, when some weeks after our return to the States, I received a small card of thanks from her with one of her original silk paintings enclosed!
Holland: Amsterdam On the suggestion of the artist Françoise Gilot whom I had met and wrote about in ART TIMES, I sought out the gallery that represented her in that country. The gallery, located on the main canal, was a handsome building, the owner welcoming and pleased that I had taken the trouble to visit. Her English was excellent, and I commented on that fact. “Oh, I lived in America for awhile — mostly in New York State. Both in Manhattan and in a small upstate town.” “Oh,” I said. “Where upstate?” “Woodstock,” she said. “I visited and stayed with some friends there.” “It wouldn’t have been the van Hamels, by any chance?” I asked. “You know them?” she asked. “Oh yes. Manette and Dick have been friends for some time. I know her as an artist,” I added. “I’ll have to tell her that I met you.” “Please do,” she said. “Will you be visiting their son while you are here?” “I didn’t know they had a son,” I said. “I only know her daughter, the prima ballerina, Martine van Hamel.” “Oh, but you must stop in and say hello to him. He lives on a barge just down the canal from here.”
Meeting up with Cornelia who had been visiting the Anne Frank House while I was at the gallery, I told her about my visit and we decided to look up the van Hamel son. We did not find him at his barge but at a nearby gallery where he was setting up a show. When we knocked, he opened the door and we said, “Your mother says hello!” Surprise, and then amusement as we shared our story with him. Another pleasure when we returned to share the whole story with Dick and Manette back in Woodstock.