One part of the last darkest days of the year were spend in Amsterdam in a bar near the Nieuwmarkt with my big friend of all times Peter B. drinking our favourite drink of all time de kopstoot. Well not exactly a kopstoot, because we use oude jenever. Result of an afternoons and early evenings drinking were a lots of clarifications on ongoing matters in the political, filosofical and trans historical niches of our existence. At the end of the evening we found out that we could speak Chinese backwards in a most perfected way.
On friday I strolled around the Waterlooplein looking for a kalimba, unfortunately without a result. Topmodel misses such an instrument since the times we forgot to steel one out of the apartment of J.G.
I had my big walkman with me and decided to make some recordings. An audio portrait of Amsterdam should for sure include bicycle sounds. As I stood listening through my headphones, I noticed that the Amsterdam bicycles have a sonic personality of their own. The sounds they make are subtle or silently squeeking, laboring with protestant love, slowly increasing in sound to something that makes you wonder if not the world but at least the bicycle you hear (before you see it) is coming to an end. Then these bicycles all have to be parked and locked at some time. This means bumping onto the sidewalk and loosening some chain from somewhere around the saddle, which brings memories of the walking death in pirate movies, coming out of the most sinistre dungeons.
There is also the manifold singing of the trams, and the impact of heels in all measures and sizes on the pavement. And not all women are equal! Nor is their weight or elegance. So these heelbeats could compose a gamelan piece. Then there is water and the life on water. Birds complain in a tuuttuut way, boats drone by.
Aeroplanes, of course, there is always the distant call form the aeroplanes.
While Berlin is vast and slowly expanding into my sense of being, walking through the streets of Amsterdam, I couldn´t help to be a shadow of myself, walking memories more then reality. Maybe it is because of this state of mind that I discovered another aspect of this harbour town where everyone is celebrating the riches of life.
It occurred to me that all street life was echoing the actions going on. With a glow, would come a bow, a show and a row. With a leap would come a beep a heep and a creep. It was as if I was surrounded by mirrors, but there were also little loudspeakers that transported and transformed the sounds that ducked up here or there.
Maybe a better image is that of water and the thousands and thousands of light sparks you see on it on a very beautiful dreamaway day. The same pattern will never be repeated again, still you get the impression to be caught in a never ending moment.
Amsterdam should be caught in such a moment.