Travelling Light
A view of Amsterdam
Travel pics and stories from our five weeks abroad, some sad personal news, Rob’s fabulous collages, new photographs and more….
Our big, tremendous, five country, two continent, family and friends trip!
The beach at Langebaan, Cape West Coast. One step out of our cottage, and onto the sand….
We all know that flying isn’t fun anymore, and not good for the planet either, in these days of rising temperatures and accelerating climate change. But, at our age, staying connected to family and friends, experiencing as much as we can of the world, and living the years we have left to the fullest - filling the glass to the brim, and draining it to the dregs - is simply imperative. Who knows what tomorrow brings?
Needless to say, the five weeks we were away, from the end of March to early May, were busy and eventful, starting with our route: Toronto to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to Cape Town, Cape Town back to Amsterdam again, from Amsterdam to Zurich to Stuttgart, and on our way home, in one very long day, Stuttgart to Frankfurt to Amsterdam and finally Toronto.
The air miles we clicked up were a pain in the proverbial, especially in cattle class - but the payoff was worth it, as Cape Town and the Western Cape, Amsterdam, Tailfingen in Germany, Basel in Switzerland, Colmar and Riquewihr in Alsace Lorraine, Freiburg, the Lake of Konstanz, reeled happily by in our personal travelogue.
Not only were we visiting five countries on two continents, mind you, we were packing for two different climates, with summer shading into early autumn in South Africa, and spring in Europe still struggling to free itself from the clutches of winter.
We did well, in the circumstances - at least, we thought so - to travel relatively light. One checked bag each, and one carry-on. We travelled light in other respects too - light of heart, free to roam, and in my case at least, chasing the light to make photographs.
Part of the impetus for this trip was my upcoming birthday - it astounds me to say this, but I turn 70 in August - and my wish to use the occasion to bring all of my children and grandchildren together, in one place at one time, for the first time since my son Jonathan’s wedding in 2016 to the amazing Hayley.
Finding a date and location that worked for everyone - the Fishers in England, the Kroukamps in Canada, the Tjasinks in South Africa - took some time to negotiate, with much to-ing and fro-ing (thanks, Rob, for your efforts and negotiating chops!). In the end, we settled on Easter in South Africa - not my birthday, exactly, but the start, instead, of what I like to call my Birthday Season - so much more fun than a once-off happening!
Here is the whole gang, together for the first time in more than five years - the first time, too, that the cousins were all able to meet each other and spend time playing together, and the first family-wide introduction to the full ensemble of aunts and uncles and of course great-granny.
The family - Rob, my mom, my three children and their partners, and the five grandchildren
Proceedings kicked off with a celebratory birthday lunch at the fabulous Chef’s Warehouse at Tintswalo Atlantic in Hout Bay - just the grownups - bare metres above the rocks and the Atlantic ocean, with fog rolling in on cue to provide the necessary visual effects. An eight course tasting menu, wine and bubbly, conversation and laughter, and one of the best meals of my life and best times ever.
Brunch the next day with my with mom and the gang - grandchildren included - at the Blockhouse Kitchen on the Constantia Uitsig wine estate, and then, on Monday, off to Langebaan, on the Cape West Coast, for the best part of a week together in a cottage on the beach. Simply wonderful, and such a good time!
Langebaan was followed by two nights together in Kalk Bay, on Cape Town’s False Bay coast, with Jonathan and Hayley and Gabriel and Sebastian, the English grandchildren. The house we rented overlooked the ocean, and was just a few minute’s walk from the fishing harbour. The railway line ran right in front of the house, and the boys would rush to the window, whooping in excitement, every time a train went by.
The plat du jour, both days, was seafood - dinner one night at the Harbour House Restaurant, overlooking the harbour and the twinkling bay, and a large whole yellowtail on the braai (barbecue) the second night - fresh caught that morning, and bought off the quayside. Absolutely the best yellowtail we have ever had!
Then a week and a bit, after Kalk Bay, to spend with my mom, take her and my uncle David for lunch, visit my sister Di and her husband Fred, meet up with old friends, wander old haunts and explore new places, including Riebeek Kasteel - a small town in the Swartland that we had always planned to visit but never managed to. A day in the country! Just the two of us, Rob and I, footloose and fancy free - warm sunny weather, infinite blue skies, mountain peaks on the horizon, vineyards clothing the hills, what not to like?
Time, too, to savour the last few days with the Tjasinks and a final get-together with the English Fishers. And then, all too soon, back on the plane, for our flight to Amsterdam and the European leg of our travels.
How many times have Rob and I flown through Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport? More times than either of us care to remember, yet I was last in Amsterdam more than twenty years ago, and Rob had never visited. This time, we vowed, would be different, and so we checked ourselves in to a small family-run hotel on a quiet canal in the old part of the city, and spent two-and-a-half days exploring.
The weather was cool, with rain at times (I bought Rob a cool felt hat from a design store round the corner, to keep her head warm) though the sun did come out for our boat trip round the old town. But the light, that mild Dutch light, like an old Dutch painting, simply entranced us, along with the gabled buildings leaning over the cobbled side streets, the still reflections in the quiet water, the bridges and barges and houseboats, with their tulips and flowers.
Time was short, prices were high, and we hadn’t realised the necessity of booking in advance, so we didn’t make it, unfortunately, to the Rijks Museum or the Van Gogh Museum - and not a prayer in hell, sadly, of getting in to the once-in-a-lifetime Vermeer show. But we did get to see Rembrandt’s house, just a five minute walk from our hotel, which we found absolutely fascinating, though crowded with other visitors.
Along with these and many more happy-snaps on the iPhone, I took photographs (of course) on the Leica, so do take a look at the portfolio of nine selected photographs, on my website, or follow the link in the section on new work, below.
And so, from Amsterdam, onwards to Tailfingen, in Baden Wurttemberg in southern Germany, to spend the final week of our trip with our friends Lisa and Klaus.
View from Lisa and Klaus’s house, in Tailfingen, Germany
Though it didn’t seem rushed, somehow we managed to squeeze an awful lot into our time with them, thanks to the planning and forethought of two wonderful hosts. From tasting the region - the famed white asparagus, the sausages and salamis, the breads and bread rolls, the pinot gris and the pinot grigio, the beers and the cocktails - to walking the forests for views of the Danube, Lisa and Klaus gave us an intimate and personal introduction to a part of the world we most likely would never have visited were it not to see them.
To give you an idea, here is a summary of our itinerary: pickup at the airport in Stuttgart, drive to Tailfingen; next morning, drive to Basel in Switzerland, for a picnic on the Rhine and views of the Munster (cathedral) and the Munsterplatz, then back over the Rhine to visit the Vitra Design Museum (Rob was in heaven) before making our way to the charming Sonne zur Wasenweiler, for a traditional German dinner and a very comfortable night.
The next morning, across the Rhine again, this time into France - Alsace Lorraine - and a stroll through the old town of Colmar, before driving on to Riquewihr, in the wine region, home of some extraordinarily vibrant, minerally, bracing whites. A stop-off in Freiburg - Klaus’ and Lisa’s old university town - on the final morning of the road trip, and then the long drive home, the car falling silent for a time as weariness and contentment set in.
A rest day back home, and then a day trip to the Lake of Konstanz, drives in the countryside, a visit to the nearby Hohenzollern castle - and still we found time to chat and unwind, cook dinner at home, catch up on old times and explore future travel plans.
And then, finally, the drive back to Stuttgart, where we had begun, the goodbyes and hugs, and, for Lisa and Klaus, peace and quiet at last, and for Rob and me, just the two of us again, the long trek home to 84 Marchmount.
There are photographs to share, it goes without saying, in addition to these holiday snaps, of Germany, Switzerland, France, some of which I have been posting on Intagram. To see a full portfolio of photographs, however, you’ll need to visit my website, once the portfolio is up, or read my June blog :-)
Do keep an eye out….
Still Here
Remembering Jon File
To share these stories and photographs is to celebrate and remember; it is also an act of gratitude, for our blessings and good fortune, and a way of saying, out loud to the universe, we are still here. We might have gone far, but we are not going anywhere.
Two days after Rob and I returned to Toronto, I received news by email of the unexpected death of an old friend and colleague, Jon File, a contemporary, in the Netherlands.
Rob and I had flown through Schiphol on the 3rd of May; on the 4th, less than two hours from where we passed through, Jon died.
Though I had not seen Jon for some time, it is hard to overstate what he had meant to me, as a friend and as a colleague and mentor.
When I first met Jon, in the 1980s, in the dark days of apartheid South Africa, he was the Academic Secretary at the University of Cape Town, and the indispensable champion and guide through whose efforts and good offices we were able to secure recognition by the University of Khanya College, an educational initiative I was involved in, creating an alternative access route to higher education for young black activists from South Africa’s townships and rural areas.
In the 1990s, after the unbanning of the African National Congress and release of Nelson Mandela, I worked under Jon as a researcher on the National Education Policy Investigation, NEPI, researching policy options for a new, democratic government, and when Jon was appointed as a Commissioner on the National Commission on Higher Education (NCHE) established by President Mandela, I again served under Jon and the Commission as a senior researcher.
Jon taught me pretty much everything I know about higher education, and with his unfailing insight, wisdom and humour was a mentor to me when I became acting director of the Education Policy Unit at the University of the Western Cape, following the untimely death of its founder, Professor Harold Wolpe. Harold was himself a major figure, an activist who had made a daring escape from prison in South Africa in the 1960s, become a leading member of the South African Communist Party in exile in the UK, before returning to the country at the dawn of democracy to establish the EPU and play a leading role in NEPI and the NCHE. Impossible shoes to fill, and I needed all the help and advice I could get.
Jon, now at the Center for Higher Education Policy Studies (CHEPS) at the University of Twente in The Netherlands, introduced me to many of the front-rank European, American and British higher education scholars, saw to it that I was invited to international higher education conferences, and opened the doors to other opportunities. He kept in touch, over the years, after I moved on, and we would get together when he was in South Africa for a glass (or two) of wine and a long, gossipy, but always illuminating chat.
If all of this sounds rather serious, it was, in a sense - the stakes, we thought at the time, were high, and the hope of doing some good in this world drove all of us. But Jon was also wickedly funny, a born storyteller, a bon vivant with an unerring nose for good wine and good food, as well as a thoroughly decent and principled man. He was incredibly good fun, as well as incredibly hard-working and smart.
I felt his loss like a kick to the stomach. He had made such a difference to my life, such a profound impression, and such an impression on so many others, too, around many different parts of this complicated world. Now, not even a year into his retirement, he had been denied the pleasures and rewards of a long second life that he so richly deserved.
There have been too many losses, these past couple of years, too many shocks and unpleasant surprises. I think of the family members and friends who are faced as I write with sudden changes to their health, who feel the sands shift beneath their feet, and I say to myself, and to Rob, still here. Be grateful we are still here. Don’t take it for granted. Don’t take them for granted, either.
There is a stillness that falls, sometimes, as we think about life; a moment, a pause. It is the stillness I have tried to describe in relation to photography - a moment of attention, observation, of letting the world be present, and one’s own self disappear.
It is still, here.
A stillness signifying presence, and perhaps, revelation.
New Portfolio
Amsterdam - Nine Photographs
Two-and-a-half wonderful days in Amsterdam were not nearly enough; still, I have a new portfolio of nine photographs that I have chosen to share, offering I hope at least a small window onto that marvellous Dutch light, those gabled houses and luminous canals.
A Question of Style
Rob writes about style and collage
As I spend too much time scrolling through Instagram, I am taken with the question of collage style.
It seems to fall into two categories: collagists who have a particular style so their work is instantly recognisable and others who work in a variety of styles.
The most extreme example of the former would be an artist I used to follow who always uses a black & white photo as a starting point and then adds some red to it, whether a red circle, line or rectangle. The first time, it’s striking in its simplicity but boring after the tenth time.
I’m of the latter school-- my styles styles range from the simplest to dense and complex. This untitled piece is one tear plus one cut added to the paint brush and “bingo!”. One of my favourite pieces that tells a story of love and intrigue.
Keeping it simple can be a marvel. The next piece, Skating, was inspired by another collagist who reveals a tale with a one tear, uncovering something hidden behind. Only two elements, yet full of energy and action.
This one remains one of my most popular posts (leading to spending more time on Instagram….LOL).
Skating
My work favours collage-story-telling, but other times my style is purely abstract and filled with lots of pieces (often scraps), making a dense composition that is only about colour and shapes that can populate a page together happily.
My personal collage style evolves with my varied source of images such as a treasure trove of old photos sent to me by a friend- one of the best gifts ever! I love these women hugging their over-size barbel—strong but stylish women in the post-WWII era. Another time, another tale.
And sometimes, images go completely out of control. Again, this was a very popular image of mine that I don’t even pretend to understand!
I admire the focus and discipline of the one-style collagist who refines their work while exploring its nuances. Instead, I use images as they find me. Sticking with one style scares me as I don’t want my work to become boring, repetitive, or predictable. I like letting images I see grab me and lead the way forcing me to push boundaries, sometimes successfully and sometimes not.
I am primarily a collage story teller and that has inspired me with ideas for several more blogs. Stay tuned…..
Exhibitions and Recognition
Editor’s Pick - Life Framer Animal Kingdom Awards
I am absolutely thrilled that the photograph below - one of my favourite images - is an Editor’s Pick, along with 19 other outstanding photographs and photographers, in the Life Framer Animal Kingdom competition (click on the highlighted text to visit the Life Framer Editor’s Pick online page).
The editor’s comments, below the photograph, only underscore my pleasure and satisfaction - not least the references to Vanity Fair and National Geographic!
The challenge now is to secure a place amongst the finalists, and some day hopefully, to win outright!
Click here to see the full set of Editor’s Pick photographs!
Lion on the Runway | Life Framer Editor’s Pick
“Absolute confidence instantly comes to mind as you cast your eyes across this unusual scene – the lion out of place yet unperturbed by his unnatural surroundings. Sparse in its content and style, the black and white image is all the more impactful for it. This arresting photograph could as easily be found in the pages of Vanity Fair as it could be in National Geographic.” – LIFE FRAMER
Glasgow Gallery of Photography & SOGO Arts
The Glasgow Gallery of Photography continues to encourage my work, this time including the rather quirky photograph below in a joint exhibition with SOGO Arts. The exhibition in Glasgow runs from 18 May to 18 June.
Open Call, Glasgow Gallery of Photography and SOGO Arts. Exhibition 18 May - 18 June 2023
‘Editor’s Applause’ - Frames Magazine
This just in: ‘Editor’s Applause’ from Frames Magazine, an online photographic journal, for this photograph taken at the Vitra Design Campus in Weil am Rhein, Germany.
Vitra Design Campus, Weil am Rhein, Germany | Frames Magazine | ‘Editor’s Applause’
It was also rather nice to receive recognition from Frames, before we left on our overseas trip, for these two photographs.
Scriven Road, Bailieboro | Frames Magazine | ‘Editor’s Applause’
New Street, Nieu Bethesda | Frames Magazine | Editor’s Applause
In closing…
In closing, one last photograph, a taster from my upcoming portfolio, on our trip through Europe with Lisa and Klaus: a shot of two sentinels looking out over the valley, guarding the approach to the Burg Hohenzollern.
Sentinels, Burg Hohenzollern