Earth, sweat, growers of the cold ground, heavy smells, itchy beards, shaving cream, caps, profiled shoes, clay, sand, plants and flowers, tenderness, photos in and old shoebox, meeting and recognising, DNA, stiff fabrics, workman's clothing, taxidermy, sowing and harvesting.
1984 "Martin, put your coat on." Ma is already outside. The sandwiches in a paper bag, the thermos filled with coffee. "Come, we must hurry: The clock won't wait for us." It is 4 o'clock, we are driving to the flower auction in Aalsmeer. It's exciting. Every time. There is no time to lose. Literally. The clock determines.
The auction breathes heavy male air. Hoarse voices shout right through each other. My mother is a standout among all those burly guys. But as the daughter of a dairy farmer, raised in a family of nine children, she is unafraid. When necessary, she can shout over anyone. She knows what she wants. Ranunculus, Roses, Phloxes, Delphinium, Echinacea. I love those exotic names. It sounds like a piece of music and my mother sets the rhythm: hurry up, push on, tackle, load in.
As a 13-year-old, I had no distinct taste in music. But thinking back to that time, I realise that this was exactly the environment where my love for the blues was born. Everyday worries transformed into notes from the minor scale that, combined with the major accompaniment chords, evoked a poignant tension.
The road back home. It's nice: The car breathes flowers. Ma laughs: "We have good business Martijn!" She turns the knob on the radio. "Is there any coffee left in the jug?"
2017 I am sitting at the kitchen table with my father Ab (Abraham, Frederik, Simon 1939). It's nice to have some real time together again. The past few years have flown by. My decision to quit my wonderful flower business after 30 years and dare to choose my other passion: denim and heritage clothing, put me in a time warp. Everything had to be different and it had to be different as soon as possible. That's just my nature now. Once a decision is taken, there is no turning back.
On the table is a box of old photos and newspaper articles. "That's Kees, the father of Abraham Johannes van Bergenhenegouwen, my grandfather and your grandfather." Says my father. His finger twitches slightly as he points to his grandfather. I look at the man with the pipe and it feels like I have an encounter with myself. Those eyes and also that jawline. I get a shiver. I experience a mix of emotions: familiar, strong, connected, proud. And also grateful. In a few seconds, I understand why I do what I do.
They look at me: Father Kees, Mother Mas, Bram, Arnt, Kee, Siem Kees, dog Siep and Jan. What would they have been thinking when this picture was taken? Why was this picture taken? Each of them stands powerfully in it. They radiate pride. Proud of each other and proud of what they do. The van Bergenhenegouwen family: Growers of the cold soil.
1908 Father Kees (Cornelis-Wilhelmus 1853-1929) and Mother Mas walk with their six children, across the heath from Soest to den Dolder. On the edge of the railway line is a nursery to be developed. The family hopes for a better future. It is poor soil, the blossom of the fruit trees rarely survives the first night frost. Father Kees is a hard worker who works from morning to night. There is toil, sighing and swearing. But the van Bergenhenegouwen family has a great sense of humour that ensures they don't lose heart. The whole family cooperates. Pumpkins, gourds and melons are grown as well as plants and flowers. With a hired handcart, they take the harvest to the auction in Utrecht on foot. Money is rarely discussed. Nor is it a talkative family by nature. The clothes they wear seem to be as stiff as their character and their weathered heads. They are go-getters and perseverers. Together, they manage to keep their heads above water. And despite being at work, almost round the clock, they make time to play music and draw.
Bram (1899-1965) one of six children is also used to working in the nursery from an early age. Together with his little brother Kees, he took a horticultural course. Bram has an enormous knowledge of plants. He has big plans for the nursery and wants to distinguish himself in exclusive plants. By the autumn of 1928, he has as many as 1,300 different plants. The Hortus Batavus is known far and wide. Bram also has a special hobby, Taxidermy: the preparation and stuffing of dead animals. Like his father, he is a real go-getter, but the stock market crash of 1930 put an abrupt and definitive end to The Hortus Batavus. Fortunately, he can immediately start work at Abbing's renowned nursery in Driebergen. A new and prosperous period began. His knowledge and passion for plants and trees combined with his creativity are noticed by the liberal garden architect Mien Ruys. With her, he gets the opportunity to specialise in garden architecture.
My father's words tell our history. The pictures show where I come from. These are my roots. The feeling that there is a flow of blood, steaming through the veins of fathers and sons for decades, gives an unprecedented strength. Everything I stand for, what inspires and drives me has been nurtured and felt generation after generation. The love of plants and flowers, taxidermy but also the penchant for freedom, entrepreneurship and perseverance. Even my hard laugh and ability to put things into perspective are undisputed components of my family's DNA.
2015 Maastricht, Arborator Denim Company
Opening my new shop: History and the present are intertwined. Arborator is where clothing is synonymous with a way of life. The flowers are gone but my craftsmanship and love for quality are anchored in my passion for authentic Denim and Heritage Clothing. I see the combination of unruliness, pride and tenderness on the faces of my great-grandfather and grandfather in the authentic blue denim that comes to life through the person wearing it. Each fading that emerges after a long time is unique and symbolises freedom, independence and authenticity. Arborator is the most quirky and quirky clothing shop, animated by roots and craftmanship, for real men who know how to (re)live life.
I am Martijn van Bergenhenegouwen.
See you later Arborator!
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