The generation of our parents is passing away… In the last few days we received word that Oom Jan had passed away. A chance to honour him, and a moment to reflect on our own mortality. But also on how lucky we’ve been to have been part of two large, supportive families (Coomans & Kooij). We might be far away geographically but nevertheless close, in the way we care for one another. I’m continuing to scan correspondence from the sixties which keeps reminding me of that in every letter I scan.
In many ways, from my perspective, Oom Jan seemed the head of the family and chief organiser. Not that he put himself in front, witness this well known photograph, which includes the full Coomans family & partners anno 1967. Except him… because he was taking the photograph.
It’s getting hard to imagine life before cheap phone calls and “The Internet”. But in the 1950’s and 1960’s, moving to the other end of the world was a pretty radical thing to do. Letters were the only practical way to keep in touch, particularly in the form of aerograms (single sheet, folding letters).
Aerograms were economical and convenient, taking typically around a week to travel between the Netherlands and Australia.
Mum and Dad kept any family correspondence and there are hundreds of letters in the archive. Of course, these are (with rare exceptions) letters from friends and relatives rather than those they sent themselves, but they represent an interesting snapshot of family history from the late sixties.
While all the correspondence is in Dutch, Google Translate does a passable job with the letters. Here is Dutch Transcription of the letter above and here is a English Translation. So… here is my next task, scanning and transcribing hundreds of letters… I have set myself a target of 25 letters a month to scan and transcribe, so this will be a ‘work in progress’ for a few years…
Here are 25 letters which I scanned in April. You will need a password… please email me (email@example.com) and I’ll send it to you.
While Jo was employed by the Hydrographic Office of the Netherlands Navy as a draftsman from 1947-1967, his education and ambition was as an artist. He used those skills after hours as a freelancer and illustrated various books. In the mid fifties, he illustrated an album for Hooimeijer, a Dutch rusk (beschuit) maker. The Youtube video below gives an overview (in Dutch) of the company, including archival footage and showing off the albums of collectors’ pictures which were included in the product.
Customers would purchase the album with a place for all the pictures. The illustrations (all with a marine theme) were done by Frans Naerebout and the last album together with Jo . I don’t remember the reason why Jo was asked to take over illustrating the album. No doubt Jo’s brother-in-law (Wim), who worked for Hooimeijer had something to do with that… I think that there was a contractual dispute with Frans.
A subsequent album was cancelled before completion in the mid-late fifties. The album cover for that unpublished volume, featuring a Hydrofoil, was subsequently used in an exhibition by Leclanche , at which time the title was painted over ( you can see the remains of the title still….)
When returned, it found a place on the wall in my (Marius’) room in The Hague and subsequently followed us to Australia. The picture frame had been built to last the duration of an exhibition, but lasted 60 years until I dropped it recently. So I got it re-framed last week and it adorns my wall again.
At age 74, it is rare to get a really surprising birthday present! However, my brother Simon managed that the other day when he brought over a beautiful copy of the famous Rietveld chair (and table) which he had built especially for my birthday.
What a precious gift! It triggered off a series of emotions and memories from the past 60 years. Here are a few of my encounters with a Rietveld chair.
1960’s Den Haag I (Marius) was born in Rotterdam, The Netherlands, but spent my formative years (7-19) in The Hague. Dad (Jo) worked for the Hydrographic Office of the Dutch Navy, where he was a draftsman (1947-1966), working on Marine Charts. However, his training and ambition was as an artist/illustrator, rather than as a draftsman.
I was, at least in part, wondering about my own lack of artistic ability. My own educational path was painful and patchy, but while at High School (MULO) in The Hague, the city offered passes to local museums. Consequently, I spent many hours wandering around a couple of terrific museums, the Mauritshuis and the Gemeentemuseum (recently renamed Kunstmuseum).
The Gemeentemuseum is a wonderful 1930’s building designed by Berlage and has the world’s best collection of paintings by Mondrian and … there I first saw a chair by Gerrit Rietveld. All three were part of an art movement called “De Stijl” in the early part of the 20th century.
It dawned on me that you didn’t have to be an artist to appreciate art and that art extended beyond realistic representations on canvas.
Later in the sixties, Dad decided that moving to Australia might be a solution to his ambitions, while I found a “home” away from the arts, in technology.
1976 Dit & Sjaak
In 1976, my Australian employer, a medical electronics company, sent me to Europe for training. On free weekends, I took the opportunity to visit relatives, among the favourites, Sjaak and Dit Velthoven in Zuidhorn. A visit to them was always stimulating, whether it was Sjaak spinning wool or Dit designing dresses. And of course, I admired the Rietveld chair in their living room, a copy built by their eldest son, Willem. Proving it was not just an abstract art object, but one available and accessible as an everyday item. Also at that time, I met Thomas, their youngest (12 year old) son who we went shopping for “raw milk” from a local farmer with).
2017 Thomas In 2017, Joy and I went to Europe on a 2 month holiday to celebrate my 70th birthday, which included a visit to the Nordic countries and a cruise down the Norwegian Coast.
Well ahead of our trip, I had contacted Thomas Velthoven, who had moved to Norway with his family. It promised to be a unique opportunity to once again catch up again with a member of the Velthoven family.
Unfortunately, a short time before our trip, we learnt that Thomas had been diagnosed with a brain tumour. Nevertheless, his wife, Annemiek encouraged us to still visit them when we were in Oslo. By that time, Thomas’ illness had taken hold of him, but we valued the opportunity to meet up and get to know his family.
Much to my surprise, the “Velthoven” Rietveld chair was in their lounge room, some 40 years since I last saw it at Sjaak and Dit’s place.
2021 Birthday present When Simon told me he had a present in the back of his car. I was stunned to find a Rietveld chair… One carefully scaled to suit my large derriere, but a real Rietveld chair. And a side table to boot!
I had previously admired the Rietveld chair which Simon had made for himself. He had been similarly impressed by the work of Gerrit Rietveld and built one for himself after admiring the collection at the Centraalmuseum in Utrecht during a visit which he and Anne made to the Netherlands for his own 70th birthday in 2019.
Here are some images of that trip (click or tap to enlarge ):
I’m still working my way through all of Dad’s “stuff” , posting items of interest to the Picstory.net site.
One of the items was a sketchbook with photos, taking during his time at the Academy of Arts in Rotterdam. A bunch of students having a bit of fun (Dad is the one with the violin).
It looks like these photos were taken of the “activities” described in this letter (translation), suspending him from the Academy for two days. So what were they celebrating? The invasion in Normandy a few days earlier?
In any case, Dad did not finish that year at the Academy, he was picked up by the Germans, together with his future brother-in-law, Jord. They were sent to Germany by river boat but escaped on the way. He spent the rest of the war in hiding at Peer de Hoed‘s place. You can read a letter from his sister, Henny written during that time (detail on picstory.net).
The picstory.net website was meant as a repository of family documents, photos, documents, etc… But I decided to slightly expand its purpose.
My cousin, Willem Kooij(ask Marius for a password!) started blogging in 2005. He wrote daily stories right through a turbulent time, including the death of his wife Yvonne and up to his own passing in 2013.
After his death, a couple of friends looked after his affairs, including his websites. Recently, I approached them about some glitches with the site and ended up offering to archive Willem’s ( and Yvonne’s) sites on a permanent basis.
As might be expected, it was more involved than just copying files. I converted the WordPress files to static files and, while it was a slow process, it should be stable long term that way.