Anneke
50 cm x 70 cm, oil on linen, 2026
When Anneke was eight, she and her mother would sit glued to the radio every Sunday evening, listening to a dramatisation of Anna Karenina. At the end, Anna Karenina throws herself under a train — “All you heard was the sound of the train, it was so scary!” Ever since, she’s preferred to travel by bus.
Born and bred in the Jordaan, she talks nineteen to the dozen and it’s never dull. When I put on a Randy Newman record, she recognises it at once and tells me she once saw him at the Concertgebouw. “In those days you could just pop in on the morning of the show and buy a ticket for that same evening. These days you have to book a year ahead!”
“I’ve got one of everything: one child, one grandchild, and now I’m about to have a great-grandchild. She’s due today.” (Great-granddaughter Simmie has since been born; she arrived a day later.)
Anneke spent many years working in textiles, and has made her own clothes her whole life, often stichting something together the very day she needed it for a special occasion. “I made this dress from a bedsheet. It was originally meant for a holiday, but that never happened.”
Anneke likes an early night, so she wasn’t there that Friday evening, but Robert asked her to ring me and put her name down for this series. I am so glad she did.
