By Maarten Baanders (photo by Herman Sorgeloos) Calmly we stand at the door of the venue. A bit like the Holland Festival is a drag. No one suspects that in a few minutes, existence will be reduced to almost nothing. It starts with darkness. Silence. For minutes. Softly, footsteps sound. The ears are tuned to it in detail. There is singing. Mahler's...
State visits are hard to adjust to the cultural agenda, and when the Queen then misses her opening of the Holland Festival due to a visit to Norway planned years before, it is force majeure. And not anything else, though of course in these politically confused times it remains delightful to speculate on other reasons why the Majesty was absent from Amal...
Valhalla. Someone called it, and indeed: Valhalla. I don't mean the Teutonic version of the Eternal Hunting Fields then, but Miss Asterix and Obelix. Egyptian style. You may colour in the picture yourself with dark curls, unimaginably flawless skin made of very creamy milk chocolate, and that then set on a pair of hidden heels and strapped into a corset that accentuates everything of value. So Amal Maher is one of those women for whom a man is happy to put his chimes at the disposal of science, if it gives him the privilege of being around her for a few moments.
Beatrix does not tweet, she informed the world in her 2009 Christmas speech. A pity, because...
As every year, the Holland Festival presents previews and teasers of productions in the shop window of De Bijenkorf, on the corner of Dam and Damrak. This year will be no different. Or will it?
In the mail the following note from De Bijenkorf to the Holland Festival:
The Telegraph stresses the importance of being Dutch, while the Holland Festival lets the Dutch sing along with the Arabs
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