Tucked away in the Dutch countryside, the hamlet of Vriezekoop whispers tales of resilience and resourcefulness. Vriezekoop, a name as unique as its history, was once home to a small school, led by Martje Barts Kalshoven until her passing in 1716. After her death, Vriezekoop’s children had to trek to Leimuiden for their education. In 1728, the residents of Vriezekoop, seeking to re-establish a local school, petitioned their new lord, Amsterdam Mayor Lieve Geelvinck. Gerrit Bloemhoorn penned their request, signed by eighteen hopeful villagers. Sadly, their plea went unanswered. The population of Vriezekoop had dwindled, diminishing the need for a dedicated school. Fast forward to the dark days of World War II, and Vriezekoop becomes intertwined with a story of survival. Nearby, in Amsterdam, Barend de Hond, a demolisher, finds himself caught in a razzia. His quick thinking and broken German—”Ich bin krangk. Pein in me ruck!” (I am ill, I have a backache)—allow him to escape. Knowing his family’s safety is precarious, Barend seeks refuge. He recalls De Silveren Spiegel, a café near the Kattengat, owned by Wies Hofmann, an Austrian who vehemently opposes Hitler. Vriezekoop’s proximity to Amsterdam, and Barend’s familiarity with the area, likely played a role in his family’s journey. Although there is no direct mention of the family hiding in Vriezekoop itself, the hamlet’s quiet seclusion and proximity to Amsterdam offered a sense of safety and potential escape routes should their hiding place in the city be compromised. While their story primarily unfolds in Amsterdam, the shadow of war undoubtedly touched the lives of those in Vriezekoop.
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