ONE OF THE most prominent newspapers in the Netherlands, NRC Handelsblad, switched from broadsheet to tabloid size this week. The newspaper claims it is returning to the ancestral format of its predeccesors, the Algemeen Handelsblad, the Amsterdam newspaper founded in 1828, as well as the Rotterdam Courant, founded in 1844. Those two papers merged in 1970 to form NRC Handelsblad, which is the seventh in circulation among the national newspapers of the Netherlands.

The evening newspaper has gained experience in tabloid-size printing since 2006 when it launched its morning compact edition, nrc.next, aimed at young, highly educated readers. Nrc.next has a Monday-Friday circulation of over 300,000, while NRC hovers around 240,000 on weekdays and 270,000 on Saturdays.

“A compact newspaper is more accessible to the reader,” the head editor, Peter Vandermeersch, said. “The content remains the same and it will continue to be as long. But smaller formats often present news, analysis, and reportage in a more obvious way. Bright, clear, and with a better rhythm.”

The dramatic change by the newspaper is an attempt to halt a decline in profits and to draw readers away from its competitor, De Volkskrant.

For now, the overall design avoids the chief fault of broadsheets that go ‘compact’ or tabloid: not enough stories on a single page. The front page of the Scotsman is usually just one giant story — tabloid not just in print size but in spirit. Respectable newspapers that decide to go smaller must insist on getting multiple articles on every (non-advertising) page, and not having their stories swamped by ads.

PURSUANT TO OUR previous discussion of the dissolution of the confederal Hollandic archipelago in the Caribbean, the ever-interesting Flemish philosopher & university professor Matthias Storme suggests an interesting solution to the Belgian question. Opponents of Flemish secessionism frequently argue that should Flanders gain independence from Belgium, it would not automatically continue its membership in the European Union and would be forced to seek re-admission on its own. Professor Storme posits what he calls Solution «N», which has its basis in the Charter for the Kingdom of the Netherlands and Article 355, Paragraph 3 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union.

As it currently stands, the Charter for the Kingdom of the Netherlands (plural) details the relationship between four separate countries — Netherland (singular, in Dutch Nederland rather than Nederlanden), Aruba, Curaçao, and Sint-Maarten — in a single monarchy under the House of Oranje-Nassau. These four countries maintain autonomy in various areas of concern while maintaining a common nationality, foreign policy, and defence arrangement.

Prof. Storme suggests that were Flanders to join the Kingdom of the Netherlands as its fifth country (while specifically delegating its powers in the realm of external relations to the Kingdom) it would continue to be part of the European Union. This is because the TFEU states “The provisions of the Treaties shall apply to the European territories for whose external relations a Member State is responsible”.

Article 355, Paragraph 3 is also the reason why the British colony of Gibraltar is part of the European Union while, say, Bermuda is not. The Channel Islands, meanwhile, were specifically excluded from the European Union. There is a great deal of complication on the relations of “British Overseas Territories” (as colonies are now known) and British Crown Dependencies to the European Union.

Professor Storme notes:

The Kingdom [of the Netherlands] would have six million citizens more and increase its economic potential by 50%. It would come closer again to the bigger countries with whom it would like to be treated more equally. …

Moreover, such a Solution « N » would be interesting not only for Flanders, but also for Brussels. Brussels could accede to the Kingdom of the Netherlands as a separate country (and not merely a separate region) without delegating more powers than those mentioned, without being “annexed” by Flanders and having its own say in the Kingdom. Such an accession would also not change its linguistic status.

Even for Wallonia, it would not be a bad idea to reflect about the possibility to join the Confederation, equally as a separate country.

Is this the ideal scenario for Flanders? Probably not in all respects, e.g. as it would not grant us a separate voice in the decision making procedures of the Union. That would indeed require a revision of current European treaties. But the solution would at least immunize us against the current “Francophone-Belgian” blackmailing.

An interesting speculation.

Boullée isn’t the only architect known more for the designs never built than for those that were. Wilhelm Cornelis Bauer (1862–1904) was a Dutch architect with a flair for the fantastic. He was born into an aesthetically minded environment in the Hague, where his father ran an interior decoration firm; his brother, the painter and engraver Marius Bauer, is better known. W.C. Bauer (sometimes known as Willem) studied at the Craft School before heading to the Royal Academy of Visual Arts and became involved in the circle of Dutch architects that included Berlage, Walenkamp, Kromhout and others.

Bauer had a very high opinion of himself, being convinced of his own genius, which often brought him into conflict with others, including potential patrons. The buildings of his that were constructed (such as a handful of houses in Bussum) were within the reasonable bounds of the Dutch contemporary vernacular, but Bauer was an inveterate dreamer with elaborate visions. Architectural competitions proved a perpetual draw, and while Bauer’s designs were often commended as highly artistic they usual brought simultaneous comments about impracticability.

In an 1891 lecture to the ‘Architectura et Amicitia’ society in the Netherlands, W.C. Bauer argued that Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, the great French architect and theorist, never dreamed of the Gothic renaissance his work sparked but rather wished to show a foundation on which to build the future of architecture and the building arts. Bauer’s 1892 competition entry for a church (above) shows the architect’s intent to steer away from an academic revival of Gothic but instead to mould a building in a rather fantastic and free interpretation of the style.

The entrance portal is a handsome composition, with tracery and sculpture ascending on either side to meet the bulk of the flanking buttresses. The polychromatic entryway contrasts well with the mostly blank stone surrounding it, and the use of a semicircular arch rather than a pointed one is an interesting and surprisingly successful choice.

Moving upwards, we find an elaborate window of coloured glass surmounted by a rather handsome clock face. Bauer’s tracery manages to be free without being arbitrary, and the architect doesn’t overdo it: while we have fippery and detail in one place, he’s not afraid to contrast it with a framing of blank stone.

Bauer’s dome is probably the weakest part of the design. It fits poorly with the rest of the composition, given the primarily Gothic influence. Had he elevated the dome on a fenestrated storey or even half-storey it would lend greater dignity as well as solve the problem of this design’s height, or lack thereof: there is a somewhat squat feeling to the church as viewed in Bauer’s rendering that some added verticality would solve easily. Overall, a poor composition with some fascinating components.

None of Bauer’s more fantastic proposals, such as this, ever made it to the construction stage, probably thanks to the reluctance of the “genius” to compromise. He disliked playing second-fiddle as well, as evidenced by his turning down of Berlage’s offer to work on the design aspects of the Stock Exchange, one of the most significant architectural works in the late nineteenth century Netherlands. His politics were equally erratic — Bauer considered himself something of an anarchist and admired Thoreau — and his soundness of mind varied. Suffering from paralysis and syphilitic depression, Wilhelm Cornelis Bauer killed himself in 1904, and has remained mostly forgotten since then.

THIS MORNING, one country disappeared, two more were born, a fourth was expanded, and all are part of a single kingdom. The Netherlands Antilles, the collective islands of the Dutch West Indies which since 1954 has formed a constituent country of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, was dissolved. Two of the islands in the archipelago, Curaçao and Sint Maarten, have become full constituent countries of the Kingdom (alongside Aruba, which was separated from the Antilles in 1986, and the Netherlands proper), while the islands of Bonaire, Sint Eustatius, and Saba (the ‘B.E.S.’ islands) have been merged into the Netherlands proper as special municipalities.

The government of North Holland has invited the B.E.S. islands to join the province, but this has not yet been agreed to. With a combined population of just 17,000, Bonaire, Sint Eustatius, and Saba do not have enough inhabitants to justify forming a single province of their own — the province with the lowest population at the moment is Flevoland at 356,000. North Holland’s offer may be turned down if it entails the complication of the three island-municipalities becoming part of the European Union. Currently all the islands of the Netherlands Antilles are outside the E.U., but all their citizens are E.U. citizens by virtue of being Dutch citizens.

The country status granted to Sint Maarten and Curaçao, like that of Aruba, does not entail independence, but rather a high degree of autonomy within the kingdom. The government of the entire realm maintains responsibility for sovereignty, defence, foreign relations, citizenship & nationality, orders of chivalry, shipping (excluding sail vessels), and extradition. The Estates of the Netherlands Antilles, the archipelagic parliament, has been abolished and the island councils of Sint Maarten and Curaçao have been elevated as the Estates of Sint Maarten and the Estates of Curaçao. Each island now has its own prime minister and cabinet responsible to the Estates.

Through this reorganisation, the Netherlands proper expands by an area of 124 square miles. At 2,877 feet tall, Mount Scenery on the island of Saba is the new highest point in the Netherlands, succeeding Vaalserberg in the province of Limburg (1,058 feet). The two official languages of the Netherlands, Dutch & Frisian, will now be joined by two more, Papiamento (spoken on Bonaire) and English (spoken on Sint Maarten). Dutch laws allowing abortion, same-sex ‘marriages’, and euthanasia will be applied to the new municipalities over the course of a two-year period. The Dutch minimum wage, however, will not be applied to the B.E.S. islands, to keep the cost of labour competitive within the Caribbean.

In an earlier article, I speculated that the Netherlands Antilles would be the next country to disappear from the roster of the Olympic Games (c.f. ‘Olympic Teams of Yesteryear’, 30 August 2010), given the expected dissolution of the entity. Before the dissolution, however, the Antillean Minister of Sport consulted with the five insular commissioners of sport and all unanimously agreed to continue fielding Olympians under a single flag. The Netherlands Antilles Olympic Committee agreed and the decision was ratified by the International Olympic Committee. While ‘the Netherlands Antilles’ will now refer to a region of the Caribbean instead of a country, it will for all intents and purposes be treated as the equal of any other entity with country status at the Olympics.

The Netherlands Antilles guilder (pegged at ƒ1 = US$1.79) will continue for the time being, but Bonaire, Sint Eustatius, and Saba will adopt the U.S. dollar as their official currency on January 1, 2011 while Curaçao and Sint Maarten will establish a currency union with a new ‘Caribbean guilder’ from 2012 onwards. Aruba introduced its own florin pegged to the U.S. dollar at the same rate as the Antillean guilder when it achieved its earlier separate status.

WELL, NOT THAT deep, really. The Mauritshuis museum in the Hague recently unveiled its plans to expand underground and across the street into a neighbouring building. The square-footage of the museum will double after the completion of the new project, which will include a new entrance, exhibition hall, café, and lecture theatre. The entrance to the museum, currently accessed from the side street, will return to the front of the Mauritshuis but underground rather than through the main doorway on the ground floor.

The building was originally constructed between 1636 and 1641 for Johan Maurits, Prince of Nassau-Siegen next to the Binnenhof palace. At the time, Prince Johan Maurits (a cousin of the stadtholder Frederik Henrik, Prince of Orange) was governor of the New Holland, the Dutch colony in Brazil. In 1820, the palace was purchased by the government to house the Royal Cabinet of Paintings. The Mauritshuis art museum was separated from the state by being transformed into a private foundation which enjoys the use of the building and the art collection on long-loan from the government.

Visitors will descend to the new underground foyer to purchase admission to the museum, visit the gift shop, or dine in the café. The subterranean level will also provide access to Plein 26, the building across the street in which the Mauritshuis is constructing new spaces for exhibition and education.

Plein 26 is part of the Nieuwe of Littéraire Sociëteit De Witte (New or Literary Society De Witte), one of the most prominent private clubs in the Hague. The Sociëteit was founded in the basement of the White (de Witte) coffeehouse in 1802. The current club building was built in 1870 with an art nouveau addition some years later, followed by an art deco expansion in 1930 of which Plein 26 is a part.

The Mauritshuis project is expected to be completed in 2014. The total cost should be around €220 million, which has been provided through the budget of the Royal Dutch Ministry of Education, Culture, and Science as well as receipts from touring exhibitions, grants from the BankGiro lottery, and the generosity of private individuals, funds, and institutions.

Previously: Russia’s Treasures on the Banks of the Amstel

Watter span steun ek? Ach, baie! Teen Engeland, het ek die Verenigde State gesteun (maar ek haat die “Anyone-But-England” houding van baie in die Britse Eilande buite Engeland). Teen Duitsland, het ek die Aussies gesteun. En natuurlik al die Maties moet BAFANA BAFANA steun!

So vir groepe A-H (onderskeidelik) ons is vir Suid-Afrika, Argentinië, die VSA (of Engeland), Australië, Nederland, Nieu-Seeland, niemand in groep G, en Chili.

The Eden Spiekermann group, who were responsible for the redesign of The Economist in 2001, recently developed this logotype for the Dutch province of North Holland. The conjoined legs of the ‘N’ and ‘H’ integrate the province’s coat of arms.

CULEMBORG in the Netherlands is the birthplace of Jan van Riebeeck, the Dutch East India Company bureaucrat who founded Cape Town, and thus in a sense the city is the birthplace of South Africa. That country’s had more than its fair share of racial tensions, but NRC Handelsblad reports that race riots recently erupted in Holland’s Culemborg. The rioting was not between Dutchmen and foreigners but rather between Moroccan and Moluccan youths in the district of Terweijde.

“It’s typical of ‘young male syndrome’ says a riot-expert with 25 years experience,” the article informs us. There’s rather something of Peter Simple in referring to a “riot expert with 25 years experience”. In NRC’s case, they are referring to behavioural scientist Otto Adang, but one could easily imagine Michael Wharton referring to a football hooligan or some other ne’er-do-well as “a riot expert with 25 years experience”.

In it’s long history, the address of No. 82 Eaton Square in London has housed a Major-General of the East Indian Cavalry, a Lord Strafford, a Lord Bagot, an Earl of Dalhousie, an Earl of Clare, a Duke of Bedford, and Queen Wilhemina of the Netherlands — thankfully not all at once. It’s probably best know for its half-century as the Irish Club, a much-favoured drinking & smoking spot for the community of Gaels in London. The club was founded in 1947, with a number of pre-existing Irish clubs merging into it. George VI — grateful for the devoted service of the Irish who volunteered for his armed forces during the Second World War — heard that the club was in search of premises and asked the Duke of Westminster, one of the largest landowners in London, if he could help. The Duke provided the leasehold of No. 82 Eaton Square to the Irish Club for a nominal sum. (As it happens, the 4th Duke’s son served as a Unionist MP for Fermanagh & South Tyrone, and later in the Northern Irish Senate).

“In its heyday,” the Irish Times reports, “it was a London venue where a pint of Guinness at the bar could be supped with anyone from a building contractor to an aristocrat — as long as there was Irish blood flowing through their veins.” The late Lord Longford (father of the renowned historian Thomas Pakenham, now the 8th Earl) was President of the club until his death. Irishmen such as Garrett Fitzgerald & Conor Cruise O’Brien were frequently found at the bar, and it was popular with Irish journalists as well. Henry Kelly, the radio and television broadcaster, remembered the evening of one IRA bombing in London:

The Club began to find its Eaton Square home cumbersome, and in 2003 it sold up and moved to Tudor Street in Blackfriars. Now the building, designed by Thomas Cubitt, is being converted back into a single residence.