ART OF GEORGE WILLIAM VAN HUMBECK

I know as a "poor starving artist" you have to take on commissions. We've all done it. I can't say I enjoy the situation. In the case of On the Ice at Zaanse Schans, however, the commission came from my wife, so the request was immediately followed by, "Yes dear." I knew full well that she wanted a "windmill painting" before we left for our trip to the Netherlands. This trip was my first to the Netherlands. My wife had been back my times; I married an import. Knowing full well that I would need to collect some reference photos, I packed my camera and my well practiced "Ik ben Canadees," and we were off.

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The village of Zaanse Schans was beautiful. We stayed in the whale cottage at the edge of the Zann (River). I thoroughly enjoyed touring the windmills there. These are not tourist traps. Each of the windmills have their industrial application. One was a very productive sawmill. It was amazing to see the wind power ripping through large logs of timber. It was one in particular I found very fascinating. That windmill was crushing flax seed which were then bagged and then the wind power was used to squeeze the bags from which oil was collected. The oil is linseed oil. They were making linseed oil for the art industry. This mill was producing barrels of it.

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Once home, it was time to compose. While deep into the process and conferring with my wife, she suggests, "Can you make that a winter scene?" Did I mention we were there in July? So back to the drawing board, literally. Then my wife says, "How about at sunset?" All my photos were shot during the daytime. This just got harder.

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For those that have been to Zaanse Schans you may notice that some things are strange. I needed to make a few changes for the sake of composition. First, I condensed the distance between the windmills to give the receding one more presence and detail. Secondly, the Zann is actually quite wide. So wide that the village should be out of sight for the scale I gave to windmills. The interesting facades that faced the river were a great counterpoint to the windmills. When you can't be true to the reality, don't.