Sketchbook Diary: Amsterdam, 2018
There's something about Amsterdam that gets straight into the paintbox. The light off the canals, the endless bicycles, the gabled houses leaning companionably into one another — I knew before I'd even found a café to sit in that this trip was going to fill a sketchbook fast.
Busy, Noisy, Joyous
My first stop was the bridge near St Nicolaasbasiliek, and I scribbled it in my notes almost as fast as I painted it: busy, noisy, joyous, amazing. Seven o'clock in the evening and the bridge was still nose to tail with bicycles, the domed church rising up behind the canal houses in that wonderful jumble of orange brick and grey-green copper roofs. I'd tucked a little tulip into the page opposite — it felt like the only sensible thing to paint alongside a scene that busy. A quiet breath before the chaos.
Thousands of Houseboats
Further along the canal I found what might be my favourite page from the whole trip. A houseboat, moored up with its own little terrace — a bistro table, a green stool, pots of flowers on the roof — and behind it, the whole waterway lined with pink, grey and ochre townhouses reflected wobbling in the water. What a lovely way to live, I wrote underneath. Thousands of houseboats, all messing about on the river. I could have painted that stretch of canal a dozen times over and still not be tired of it.
From the Station Towards Dam Square
The walk from Centraal Station towards Dam Square at one o'clock was pure sensory overload in the best way — trams, boats, cars, vans, bicycles, all somehow sharing the same few feet of cobbles, and not a single aeroplane in sight to spoil the skyline. Someone pointed out the 'Ghost Buster building' to me, one of those grand old spired façades along the canal, and I couldn't resist painting the whole huddle of gabled rooftops in that hazy blue afternoon light, red and blue cars caught mid-crossing on the bridge below.
An Afternoon with Van Gogh
No trip to Amsterdam is complete without the Van Gogh Museum, and I spent a happy, quiet hour there with my sketchbook, working from one of his farmhouse paintings. There's something humbling about sitting in front of the real thing and trying to understand how he built up that thatched roof in a few confident strokes — I've tucked the postcard in beside my own attempt so I can see exactly where I borrowed from him and where I wandered off on my own.
Later, with my e-ticket stub still tucked into the page, I settled in front of Almond Blossom and just drew — no paint, just pencil, following those looping, tangled branches and the little clusters of blossom. It's one of those paintings that rewards slow looking, and sketching it line by line taught me more about Van Gogh's rhythm than any amount of standing back and admiring ever could.
Looking Back
Flicking back through this sketchbook now, what strikes me most is the pace of the city — busy, busy, busy, and yet somehow completely relaxing to paint. Amsterdam has a rhythm all its own: water, bicycles, gabled rooflines, and light bouncing off every canal. I'd go back tomorrow, sketchbook in hand.
— Sheila