Ik rij over de Jacobadijk, Noord-Beveland. Een onafzienlijke omgeploegde klei en vlakgeëgde landerijen waarop kleine grassprietjes als op een kalend hoofd…
De naam Rancho Grando doet mij denken aan een plaats in de Camargue, maar is een vakantiebungalowpark waar de bungalows van elkaar zijn afgeperkt door dikke hagen van coniferen.
Kemperland wordt net als Zoutelande zwaar onder handen genomen. Een in de klei van Noord-Beveland neergegooid dorp. Ook hier is de ontkerkelijking toegeslagen: midden in het strenge dorp staat een tot grand-café omgebouwde kerk.
Het strand langs de dam tussen Walcheren en Noord-Beveland is leeg. Off-season, duidelijk.
Terug naar Vrouwenpolder.
Dan naar Oost-Kapelle. Hier wordt riolering aangelegd. De kerk is gesloten. De mensen zijn binnen. De kerktoren kan in juli en augustus worden beklommen, op de woensdagavonden. Ik koop kibbeling bij de plaatselijke visboer, die plat-Zeeuws tegen me blijft praten, maar wel aardig is, voor een stugge Zeeuwse boer dan.
Bij de molen van Mondriaan hebben intensieve werkzaamheden voor een kaalslag gezorgd. Opengegraven weilanden afgezet met hoge hekken omringen de molen.
Er zijn veel toeristen in het dorp, maar vrijwel alle winkels en horeca in het dorp zijn gesloten.
Een rondleiding door het dorp is genoemd naar Mezger, een Duitse arts die een internationale elite hier eind 19e hier in Domburg hardhandig van hun al dan niet ingebeelde kwalen af hielp. Van zijn kuuroord hier in Domburg resteert niet meer dan het hekwerk van de oprijlaan. Het ziekenhuis heeft plaats moeten maken voor een lelijke bungalow.
Over de duinenrij langs het strand loopt een brede promenade waar de toeristen van de magere winterzon genieten.
Zoutelande, in de winter. Verlaten. In de snackbar annex kroeg zitten locals om 1 uur al flesjes bier te drinken terwijl ze darts kijken op het scherm en patat eten. Ze vervelen zich en hebben het over de zomer, als de toeristen er zijn, en hoe weinig ze nu om handen hebben.
Twee grote bouwputten maken het dorp definitief onaantrekkelijk.
History repeats. E.W. Dijkstra argued that programming elegance and ease should be more important than efficiency. Many of his contemporaries opposed this view. Dijkstra held programming should be made easier, through definition of a machine-independent programming language. Algol was machine independent. FORTRAN was full of machine dependencies.
To Dijkstra, inefficiencies are solved soon, by next generation computers that are faster.
Today, efficiency is an afterthought in programming. But for different reasons. Today, (perceived) speed of delivery is key. Which leads to a waste of computer resources in very many cases. I write perceived between brackets. Because it is seldom better. Sloppy, hasty work leads to massive rework. But that is accepted.
Photographs, as Hans Aarsman prefers them, are not taken to make a nice picture but only because they attract the photographer’s attention and because he just feels like taking a picture of them. Photo Libretto by Eddy Posthuma de Boer is full of it.
Or as Garry Winogrand said:
Photography is not about the thing photographed. It is about how that thing looks photographed.
Discovering Eddy Posthuma de Boer
I knew Eddy Posthuma de Boer primarily as the photographer who had taken the pictures in Cees Nooteboom’s travel books. His images accompanied Nooteboom’s literary wanderings through Europe and beyond, creating a visual counterpoint to the writer’s observations. But Photo Libretto revealed a different side of Posthuma de Boer, one less concerned with illustrating a narrative and more focused on pure visual discovery.
Photo Libretto was published as a photography calendar, offering one image for each day of the year. This format gives the work an intimate, daily rhythm. Rather than presenting a single coherent project, Posthuma de Boer organized his images into thematic collections that reveal his recurring fascinations and visual obsessions.
The Art of Noticing
Here and there, the images display a wit reminiscent of Elliott Erwitt: black-and-white dalmatians crossing at a zebra crossing, creating an accidental visual rhyme. An Arab who appears to be trying to fix an overturned car, fiddling with the engine with one hand, but a few meters away lies the rear axle, completely detached. A massive pile of crushed car blocks, compressed into perfect metal cubes, speaking to the lifecycle of automobiles.
The book is organized around themes, or rather, collections of related observations. There are texts on signs and storefronts with spelling mistakes – the kind of vernacular typography that most people walk past without noticing. Means of transportation appear frequently: French cars slowly rotting and becoming part of the French landscape, their rust and decay creating unintentional sculptures.
People reading newspapers make multiple appearances, caught in moments of absorption. Companies and products bearing the name Victoria form another collection, turning a simple proper name into a typological study. It’s this kind of obsessive attention to patterns that makes the work compelling.
Cees Nooteboom, photo Eddy Posthuma de Boer
Ordinary Things, Extraordinary Images
The most admirable pictures capture everyday things rendered without further context, producing unexpectedly remarkable images. A neat little plant table constructed entirely from Pepsi crates, a moment of folk design that could have come from an Eggleston photograph. The ingenuity of making do with what’s available, elevated through photographic attention.
Marte Röling’s Star Fighter aircraft appears, incongruous and powerful. A hotel reception desk in Marseille drowns in an overwhelming abundance of floral wallpaper and carpet patterns. Maximalist interior design that borders on the surreal. The Leaning Tower of Pisa, photographed with the camera tilted so that the tower appears straight while the surrounding world tilts askew, a visual joke that upends our expectations.
Most memorably, a hotel room features a bathtub positioned in the middle of the space, surrounded by a shower curtain like an island of privacy in an otherwise open room. Only possible in Belgium, I thought when I saw it. These are the kinds of vernacular oddities that Posthuma de Boer sought out, or simply noticed when they appeared.
The Philosophy Behind the Images
What ties these diverse images together is Posthuma de Boer’s approach to photography – taking pictures not because they’re obviously beautiful or important, but simply because something catches his eye. It’s photography driven by curiosity rather than ambition, by the pleasure of looking rather than the need to make a statement.
This connects directly to what Hans Aarsman advocates: photography as a practice of attention, of noticing what’s already there rather than constructing elaborate scenarios. It’s democratic in its gaze, finding equal interest in a damaged car, a spelling mistake, or an improvised piece of furniture.
Photo Libretto reminds us that the world is already full of remarkable images – you just need to pay attention and be ready with a camera. The joy Posthuma de Boer found in this practice comes through in every page of this calendar, making each day’s image a small gift of visual observation.
For anyone interested in Dutch photography, vernacular culture, or the art of everyday observation, Photo Libretto remains a treasure worth seeking out.