door René Boer
Every day it hits again. This is not the fault of the millions of tourists who temporarily visit our city, but of my neighbours in de Pijp. Unbelievable amount of garbage dumped on the streets every day and when the wind blows a little bit, the whole street turns into a real garbage dump. Nobody seems to take the public space into account, as long as they can dispose of their garbage. What does that say about my neighbors?
Between art and quarantine
Because it was 50 years ago this year that Yoko and John stayed at the Hilton for a week, also a kind of quarantine, we thought to make a remake in our bedroom. On instagram, I was going to upload the photo with all the associated hashtags such as #art quarantine, but as usual, I don’t understand how instagram works. It does get on my nerves, though. But how do I get my photo in between?
Oysters and champagne
We hadn’t seen each other for a long time. So we were inside for a couple of days enjoying each other and my well stocked fridge. But at one point the fridge was empty and we got hungry. We decided to go to the Dirk for a solid refill. In the supermarket all the shelves turned out to be empty. We didn’t understand a thing. We hadn’t followed any news for days. We knew nothing of it. One of the employees told us about a press conference the night before and an expected quarantine possibly followed by a lockdown. This was perhaps one of the most unreal moments of my life. We felt like two UFOs crash-landing on a strange planet. Empty shelves we both knew from the former Yugoslavia. Nothing new under the sun. Been there done that. But not in Amsterdam.
We decided to go to the Cuyp to get oysters and champagne. Surely a man should eat and drink something. And squeegee, well, that was a problem for later then.
by Mandra Wabäck