Sketching in Amsterdam

Sketching in a museum feels like a somewhat public activity. There are people around, often many of them, but I am focused on what I am doing.

I was happy to be stopped in the middle of drawing, by someone telling me nice things about my work. A man liked my sketch of the Claudius Civilis, and asked his wife to take my photo. They were American, from Indiana, it turned out, on a family vacation with their children.

Amsterdam was very crowded, as was the Rijksmuseum. People’s art viewing is efficiently concentrated.by the museum's 5 p.m. (or 17.00 on the 24 hour clock) closing time. There are no late nights at the Rijksmuseum. 

Warning announcements are broadcast half an hour, then fifteen minutes before close, if I remember correctly. I was annoyed by the warnings. It's too early! It’s the middle of the afternoon! But on days when my energy was running low, it was a relief. “You’re almost done,” I would tell myself.

I treated museum sketching like a job, intending to be there drawing from open to close, or as close to it as I could manage, every day. The routine was comforting, and worked for me. While I was in the museum studying the art, my thoughts would wander. I would process events that came to mind, from my recent traveling, or from back home, in the midst of responding to the artwork.

I wanted to travel to imagine what it would be like to live in another place, feeling at home, as much as I could, in each of the cities that I visited. I got to know the route or routes to the museum, and supermarkets. Every day, the grounding event of drawing from great artwork. Then after the museum I would walk around the streets for hours, taking in all the new ideas about what everyday life could be like. Joining in with the crowds in a wonderful European city.