Tag Archives: Frank Lloyd Wright

Carla Drift – Years of Flourishing 2


Suddenly at the beginning of my first spring in Delft, my great love came in my life. I turned around and there he stood. A friendly smile in a moon face, with a lot of blonde curls. I opened my mouth in surprise and his smile became much larger; I started to laugh. He studied architecture, was several months younger and he lived on the other side of the city. It seemed like we knew each other for ages. He invited me to drink coffee together – I invited him to dinner after my rowing training. In the evening we visited an organ concert in the “Nieuwe Kerk” in Delft with music of Johann Sebastian Bach.

[1]

After a few drinks in the “Waag” [2] we said goodbye; two days later he would come to me for dinner.

At the beginning of that night I could not sleep; I felt tingling all over my body. In the middle of the night I fell asleep. The following two days I felt myself floating; everywhere I went, I felt a warm glow around me. At the beginning of the evening I prepared my best meal; he had a bottle of wine with him – I sinned against my rowing training. Long dining with lots of talk and laughter and during the preparation of the dessert he laid his hand on my shoulder, I turned to him and smiled happily. After finishing diner, we listened music and kissed. Everything was familiar, our hands and tongues found their way by themselves: experience of a lifetime of many millions of years.

[3]

We slept in my bed – spoonwise – underwear still on. The following afternoon he went on study trip for one week; before his departure we promised to meet again a week later.

This week I used to explore my body and to get the contraceptive pill. Better not to play hide and seek on this point. As the oldest, I preferred a small advantage: some control over the intimacy between both of us. From the library I borrowed several books about physical intimacy. In a few evenings I found out what I certainly liked – after some tries, I discovered that orgasm [4] seemed to me like making turns while biking – the rest would follow later.

A week later after the rowing training, I was waiting for him at the beginning of the evening. He beamed when he saw me. We went to his room. He slept while I ate my dinner. I read in his books about architecture: Ernst Neufert-Architects ‘ Data and some books about the American architect Frank Lloyd Wright. By the end of the evening I woke him; he looked sweet and vulnerable. I put up a record and I laid myself next to him. Slowly we merged together on the flow of the music. A number of times I was completely one with everything. I felt an infinite love; a transcendence of the “I”. Later we slept for a few hours. The next morning I sang while I made breakfast for us. We lived alternately in each other’s room. That spring, summer and autumn lit up in a golden glow. In addition there were the necessary practical matters: study, rowing, holiday, meeting each other’s family. And, of course, living together with other students.

Around my rowing, we went away on weekends – camping in Belgium, staying with friends in other cities, visiting musea and buildings.

During Ascension we stayed at my parents in South Limburg. We met my primary school boyfriend. He mentioned that he had fallen in love with a female school friend. The next day we met her. She was very surprised to see my great love and me together. She thought that I had a relation with my primary school boyfriend – she really liked him. At Pentecost we invited them both in Delft. That was the beginning of their later marriage.

[5]

The summer holidays, the four of us moved through Europe by train. A carefree summer.

Around the autumn holiday his attention for me diminished; it first showed with small things. There was a small forgetfulness – for example: an appointment for a weekend away coincided with another appointment – may happen. Then I felt increasingly in all kinds of gestures, that our fully togetherness was no longer mutual. Not much later he asked for more freedom and he soon fell in love with another fellow female student. This transition took him trouble and it caused a landslide for me. The landslide was not caused by his interest in other women, but because we started drifting apart and an increasing disharmony crept in our relationship. It was just if the left and right hand, eye, ear, foot began a life on their own. Before, we felt one with each other and with the world around us. Around the autumn holiday our relation slowly split in two. First we tried a love triangle. At that time the relations between men and women were already on drift for a while. The second women’s emancipation golf was in full swing in our environment – I think I was not easy at that time. From a love triangle we drifted to an intimate friendship for more than a year with a lot of talk about life and about ourselves and very occasionally we had intimacy. Halfway through my third year in Delft, a students’ psychologist said to me the honest and very painful words: “Wrong partner choice”. After this visit, I wished to shout over the canal: “The only true partner choice”. Now looking back – so true. After my great love, occasionally I had several vague relations that can be described with a line from a song by Joan Armatrading [6]: “I’m not in love, but I’m open for persuasion”.

Our friendship diluted, but my inner loss remained. The full moon of love that first shone from his face, had now passed in a new moon. It was painful to see him in Delft – I wasn’t kind anymore. I had no permission from the faculty of the University to pursue my study in a direction that I wished. In the next post more on this development.

In the last semester of my Bachelor I sat next to a charming middle-aged man during colleges philosophy. Since some time he was a senior scientific researcher in architecture, but soon he would start helping his godmother on the farm about ten kilometres from my village. A number of times we had lunch together. I had told him my plans for the continuation of my study in Amsterdam. He arranged my first room in Amsterdam with friends of him. Occasionally I visited him in South Limburg when I was at my parents. I helped a little on the farm and we ate together.


[1] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delft

[2] See also: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waag_(Delft)

[3] Source image: http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amour

[4] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orgasm

[5] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delft

[6] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_Armatrading

Man Leben – your study time


Traume soll man leben

You continue with your years of study in Delft:

“After receiving my grammar school diploma, I hiked with two friends for four weeks in the Netherlands, Belgium and France. My aunt encouraged me to study and to life on rooms in Delft; she liked to see me following the footsteps of my father. Due to the rebuilding after the war, I got interested in architecture and as a consequence I started studying architecture in Delft. I settled in a small room in a house at the “Oude Delft”. I enjoyed my student life, my student association, two year rowing as oarsman, jazz, trips to Amsterdam, Paris, and of course architecture. The shock of the new: “Amsterdamse School”, Frank Lloyd Wright, “De Nieuwe Zakelijkheid” or “New Objectivity”, Glasshouse.

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

Just after my 21st birthday a disillusion followed. My aunt explained to me how she had managed the legacy of my father and mother. She had done well, but the time was not well-disposed to her.

She explained how the small base capital – that my grandparents had deposited around 1923 in Amsterdam – was used by my parents in 1933 to make a new start in Netherlands. With part of this capital they bought a house in Amsterdam; the rest was used as reserve capital for trade. The trade was rather successful until the other regime from Germany installed barriers of trade for my parents. During their deportation to Germany, all our movable property was seized or has disappeared. Their house was confiscated for housing of others.

The first letters that my aunt in 1945 received on her return in Netherlands, were tax bills from the Dutch Government for recovering taxes not paid by my family during their absence due to their deportation to Germany. My aunt understood that after the war the Dutch Government had to rebuild everything from the ground, like everything and everyone. As heir and guardian, my aunt had to look after the obligations of the deceased relatives and for me. All possessions were gone or not accessible. My parent’s house was inhabited by other people. Many bills for maintenance were not settled or were paid by others. The ownership of the house was also disputed. By transferring the property of the house officially to new owners, all debts and tax bills could be settled.

Luckily my aunt got a post at a Trade Office with which she could start a new life. From this base she could get access to the other base capital my grandparents had deposited in Switzerland. With this base capital my aunt was able to cover my the costs for me and for my study. She wished that I had a good time in Delft and that I enjoyed myself without a worry during the first two years of my study.

One wish of my aunt I could only fulfil much later, when I was in my 50’s. She requested me to honour my father and mother not only with my life as I had done before my maturity, but also to honour my parents with the traditional remembrance of the dead. First I thought of “Dies Irae” [5] – or “Day of Wrath” – as a commemoration of the days of doom and horror that befell on my father and mother during the war. The request of my aunt went further: she asked me – when I ready to do so – to honour my parents according to the Jewish remembrance – named Kaddish [6] – with the opening lyrics: “You are praised, and holy is your name in the world – created according to your will”. This text is very similar to the Christian equivalent “Thine Be the Glory” [7]. Many years later I finally reached the maturity and humbleness to say these texts for one year and thus to fulfil the wish of my aunt. I could only start this task after a monk in a monastery saw that I had trouble with bowing down. “Do you know for whom you bow down?”, he asked. I replied that I had trouble to honour God in this humble way. Thereupon the monk said: “These bows are bows for yourself”. The meaning of this answer dawned upon me years later.

After this disillusion following up on my cheerful first two years of study, I received my engineering degree at the University of Technology four years later. My final thesis involved utility-building: a reasonable good job, but outside the level of the best architects”, you said.

[8]

“I do not have this maturity and humbleness. I am still full of rebellion “, I say.

“It took me a lot of trouble to get it”, you say.

The following post is about your fruitful years in the society.

 

– “Who are you – Part 1″ ready for download –

– Please, see page: “Who are you – Part 1”


[1] Surce image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bestand:Scheepvaarthuis5.jpg

[2] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bestand:Michel_de_Klerk_Spaarndammerplantsoen_Amsterdam.jpg

[3] Source image: http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bestand:Wrightfallingwater.jpg

[4] Source image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Glasshouse-philip-johnson.jpg

[5] See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dies_Irae

[6] See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kaddish

[7] See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thine_Be_the_Glory

[8] “Ketelhuis” near the “Rotterdamseweg” in Delft. This “ketelhuis” is an example of the “New Objectivity”. The design is made by the architecture-office van den Broek en Bakema – see also: http://www.broekbakema.nl/. Source image: Screen-print from Google maps.