A paper presented at the symposium “From Togetherness to Social Coherence“
in Amsterdam on the occasion of the 30th Anniversary of the Community Centre of the Jordaan.
Peter Kollee
When I moved from rustic Bosstraat (which translated means Forest Street) to the more urban Boomstraat ( or Tree Street), I saw no more of a tree than the top of a monumental elm somewhere near the Lindengracht (or Lime Tree Canal) when I was seated at my third floor window. The Jordaan was resignedly awaiting renovation.
From the front windows I looked out on an enclosed building site, brimful of garden balsam and butterfly shrub. On sunny days peacock and red admiral butterflies danced above them. Newspapers were neatly stacked along the length of the enclosing fence. This was the merchandise of Uncle Klaas, who also used these piles to control who could park in the street …and for how long.
At the back I looked out on the fragments of white tiles on the remains of the walls of a butcher’s shop. Tens of black cats roamed around. They all kept an eye on the little flat roof where Aunt Annie, who lived below me, distributed a substantial part of her old-age pension in the form of chicken livers. She interpreted their caterwauling as signs of grief. The rubble disappeared virtually overnight to make way for modern housing … as did the cats.
From above I could see the small, dark, enclosed gardens, where an assortment of conifers and a flowering cherry tree with narrow crowns were bravely working their way up towards the light. After about five years the first tree to appear in view, when I was seated at my kitchen table, was the top of a cedar tree. It was a festive moment. From this position I have been able to record its growth year by year and it has amply risen above the top of my window. The domestic life of my back neighbours has largely disappeared behind its widespread branches. The flowering cherry tree has now reached the halfway point of the window.
Ever since my first morning in the Boomstraat the blackbird has been there. From its fixed perch on the top of the gable at the back, obliquely to the left, it has been singing at sunset and early in the morning, when it is so delightfully quiet in the Jordaan - an effective call to prayer.
On the top of a gable, further on, a seagull has had its fixed abode. It used to sit motionlessly with its beak towards the East. One morning, however, it came to take a steam bath above the ventilation pipe of the bathroom of the neighbours across the way. First lifting its little left claw and right wing, and then the other way round… the little eyes half-shut in bliss.
It is wonderful to live on the third floor and still to be able to see the wide sky above the rooftops – a position halfway between heaven and earth. Against the background of the changing light and passing clouds, there is continual movement: the zigzag of flights of city pigeons, searching gulls sailing by, foraging magpies, once in a while a reconnoitring crow, or a grey heron winging slowly northwards to the Westerpark. The devil birds, which swirl above the city centre from the end of August, are a source of wonder -.the shrill cries high up in the air. For me, their arrival celebrates the new year more than New Years Eve celebrations.
I’ve lived in the Boomstraat now for more than twenty years. The cultivation of gardens in courtyards and on roof terraces has considerably increased in volume. Now turtle doves and great tits forage there, and a wood pigeon has built a nest in the cedar tree for the first time. Once in a while a popinjay pioneers, but the Boomstraat is not woody enough. A yellow corydalis has spontaneously settled in a damp corner of the plant box. From there it has spread a hundredfold over the lower balconies and adjoining roofs. Spring will be sensational, like a desert starting to bloom.
The enclave with garden balsam and butterflies was unforgettable. It emanated an intense tranquillity - a spot which everyone had left untouched for years. Here was room for nature, hesitant at first, then exuberant and finally hospitable to all species. The spontaneous appearance of young willows and small birch trees announced the beginning of forestation - the promise of woodland in the Boomstraat.
The privately owned apartments that have been built on this spot now have terrace and wall gardens planted with easy to maintain shrubs and evergreens. As yet, it does not have the allure of the previous greenery which had not been tended for years, but stubbornly helped to determine the character of the street. Like the rosebush which has been pruned back to a single stem with a wide crown which has risen above the first floor: the eye catching morning glory spiralling along the drain pipe; the ivy which covers the whole front gable like a thick coat.
The little arms holding out flowers reach out a bit further each year. The pavements are too narrow for flower boxes, but here and there a few sturdy barrels have been placed. Rosemary grows in one of them and in another there is lovage. I sometimes make use of them.
Just as I eagerly await the arrival of the swifts, I look forward to the germination of the tiny wild plants in the “armpit” of the street - the angle between the street and the gable. My front door is guarded by the poisonous doornappel thorn apple, shaggy soldier utilizes every bit of pavement that is not walked upon as its own stepping stones.
Hairy love-grass, wall barley and other tough sorts of grass force themselves between the paving stones. mexican fleabane, wall lettuce, narrow-leaved pepperwort, hedge musterd and night shade. Comon witlowgrass and small alison have spread from a flower box.
Nature in the urban Jordaan is present in these fortuitous forms – survivors, but only a handful.
They provide a link to my other moments of wonder about life, growth and bloom.
It is the sort of wonder that makes a lasting impression, becomes evident in the attitude of people.
One experience which confirmed this was the first urban greenery competition in the Jordaan. That occurred about fifteen years ago, but the annual greenery and gardening activities continue with vigour. What a feast it was to see the hidden, highly personal, little Gardens of Eden in the Jordaan.
The poetry of the Jordaan lies in the unexpected, the personal, the accidental.
This is difficult to combine with central planning, public considerations and regulation. It lies in the difference between domination and empathy………the difference between rigid control and guidance.
In the meantime the ivy has disappeared from the gable. The Building society does not like ivy, it likes buildings and their management. Ivy could block ventilators and affect the paintwork …that is true. In this particular case, though, there are no ventilators and the window frames are made of synthetic materials to avoid having to paint them.
Shaken up by noisy mowers and cleaning machines we were witness to the removal of the wild plants from the streets. And, what noise! The result i.….Clean, Orderly and Safe.
Let’s see what next spring will bring. Here’s hoping that result will once again be…..Alive, Surprising and Friendly.
Jordaan… jardin …city garden of plant boxes, flower pots, roof gardens, street gardens, creepers, seedlings, wallflowers, street daisies…marigolds and eglantine.
Garden… hortus… horticulturalist: all those hands which ensure the continued existence of gardens, tending, or letting be because it is good as it is, but never uncaring. Those hands find each other, when necessary, to defend a patch of garden against indifference, to volunteer help for initiatives, or to exchange know-how. The Jordaan Community Centre is the place for this. Personal stories are shared, whether of greater or lesser import, long or short, or simply stories from everyday life.
The residue of this exchange is called wisdom. It cannot be produced instantly or at will, you can only give it a chance in time. Wisdom is the art of insight and learning. The garden has been seen as a source of wisdom since the Garden of Eden
I congratulate the Community Centre Jordaan on its jubilee, and wish it lots of time so that wisdom can continue to accumulate. May I suggest that officials from the municipality, building societies and other respected regulatory bodies continue to show interest in the state of greenery in the Jordaan, but will leave the continued care for it in the capable hands of The Community Centre.
* The Jordaan was build at the large expansion of the city in 1612, as a district for the working class and emigrants. This objective fulfilled the district reasonably up to the 19th century, then the impoverishment started. The population increase in the 19th century was enormously, as a result of which the life conditions in the Jordaan deteriorated drastically. Around 1900 their lived about 78,000 people (now 19.000). The neighborhood existed of half houses, slums, alleys and some canals which served for both transport and as sewer. A large part of the houses become dilapidated very fast. Because of the occupation of Germay in the years 40-'45 it became more terrible. So in the seventies a large modernisation was started. By then the district was discovered by a new generation occupants: artists, students, young entrepreneurs. This new inhabitants of the Jordaan, together with the people that stayed behind from the early days, made this neighborhood a pleasant place with a mixture of all kinds of styles and activities.