Locked away. This is the chilling tale of the Spinhuispoort in Amsterdam. The Spinhuispoort wasn’t always just a gate. It was the entrance to a women’s workhouse, the Spinhuis. Established in 1597 within the walls of a former convent, the Spinhuis was meant to correct wayward women through forced labor. Imagine the Spinhuis, a large hall filled with women spinning and sewing. Above the Spinhuispoort, an inscription warned against begging and idleness. The inscription proclaimed the Spinhuis as a solution to these societal ills. The Spinhuis quickly filled with women deemed idle or immoral. Those accused of prostitution, drunkenness, or adultery toiled alongside those convicted of theft. The women convicted of more serious crimes were segregated and forced to read from the Bible. The city ingeniously funded the Spinhuis. Alcohol and tobacco vendors had to pay fees to the workhouse for their licenses. Failure to comply resulted in hefty fines, partially benefiting the Spinhuis. Disaster struck in 1643 when a fire, caused by the inmates’ carelessness, destroyed the Spinhuis. A grander Spinhuis rose from the ashes in 1645. Its facade, still visible today, includes the Spinhuispoort, adorned with a relief depicting the flogging of two women. This powerful image is attributed to Hendrick de Keyser and bears an inscription by Pieter Corneliszoon Hooft: “Fear not, I avenge no evil but compel to good; Punishment is my hand but love my heart.” The Spinhuis eventually relocated in 1782, taking the poignant relief with it. The Spinhuispoort, however, remained. Today, the Spinhuispoort stands as a stark reminder of Amsterdam’s complex history. It whispers tales of punishment and reform. It speaks of a time when women’s lives were judged and controlled within these very walls.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to