Being in Amsterdam recently after 45 years away was both a shock and familiar
at the same time. I was impressed with the fact that the Dutch character is unchanged, a mixture of love of place, value for value, and wry humor. Its obvious the Dutch love their country, and live outdoors as much as possible. Bicycles are still everywhere, and one learns quickly to not step into a bike lane with an absent mind. The renovated Rijks Museum, closed for ten years, is open again, and greets the public with fabulous public spaces, tasteful displays of art, and the feeling of being in an extremely well run and loved place.
All this brought back a clear memory of playing in the Concertgebouw Recital Room in 1969. I was staying with a very supportive family in Eindhoven for a few days, and then
moved up to Amsterdam into a very strange hotel not far from the hall. The room I was given turned out to be under a staircase, and all night long I heard footsteps over my head, making for very little sleep. The next morning I walked around the neighborhood, and came upon a very small hotel in a row of houses on Jan Luyken Straat. There was only a very small plaque by the door, and after I rang the bell, the door opened, but
as is the case in most houses like this in Amsterdam, the person opening the door was
standing at the top of a rather steep set of stairs. The door was opened by pulling a lever, which opened the door below. I asked if there was a free room, and she said yes, come on up and see for yourself. I said I was up the street in a terrible room, and needed absolute quiet. We went to the attic room on the back side, and there I found the most wonderful atmosphere, with a double window looking down on the gardens below.
No one would walk over my head in this room.
The lady who ran this place lived in a small apartment on the first floor, and in the late afternoon, early evening, she kept her door open to greet guests, and offer a glass of sherry. She was interested in my career, and I gave her two free tickets for my "show". She came with a friend, and afterwards she served small sandwiches and wine as we sat around and went over the evening.
I stayed there a couple of more times, before she left to retire on the Costa del Sol
in Spain. She had a devoted clientele, many being business men and women from Hungary, Romania and Austria.
When I was leaving the Rijks Museum, the streetcar passed Jan Luyken Straat, and I
could see the gardens I use to gaze down on from my attic room. Today the old place is a very posh boutique hotel with steep prices. I wonder what my lady would think of that!
