Escher Museum (with a child)

Museums are great.
With kids, though, they’re often more of a speed-run experience.

I knew a little about Escher.
Or rather, I had in mind those interlocking patterns of birds and fish, staircases leading nowhere and, generally speaking, this whole idea of playing with space and patterns.

So I thought that, to fill a morning with Jean-Loup, who still hasn’t started school, the Escher Museum was actually a pretty good idea.

I had even prepared the ground. I told him there was a picture with snakes.

That’s how I got him.

Dinosaurs would obviously have worked better, but you can’t lie too much to children.

Anyway.

Our first cultural outing in The Hague.
Go.

What I hadn’t anticipated was that, once we got to the museum, Jean-Loup had only one objective left in life: SEE THE SNAKE.

Not Escher’s early work. Not his travels. Not his Italian landscapes. Not his graphic experiments.

The snake.

The problem was that the snake in question only appeared in the fifth room.

So we went through the first four at a speed that wasn’t exactly ideal for deepening one’s knowledge of art history.

I still managed to catch glimpses of some beautiful woodcuts, villages clinging to mountainsides, impossible architecture and all sorts of things I would happily have spent more time looking at.

But… the snake.

We eventually found it.

I’m not entirely sure what Jean-Loup had been expecting. Probably something slightly more spectacular.

We took a photo in front of it, like a fisherman posing with the big one he’d finally caught.

He was happy.

Then we went off to finish the rest of the exhibition at full speed.

In the end, I do think he quite liked it.

His official verdict was: “Average.”

Which, in the rating system of a five-year-old, may actually not be that bad.

And then there was the gift shop. Obviously.

Admission is free for children, so until then I was feeling rather pleased with the cultural and financial brilliance of the whole operation.

That was before the shop assistant placed a postcard in his hands with enough enthusiasm to make any socially acceptable retreat completely impossible.

I was weak. I was tired. I had spent the entire museum chasing a snake.

I paid the €3.

In short

The Escher Museum is definitely worth a visit.

If only because Escher is such a singular artist, with work that doesn’t really look like anyone else’s.

I’d actually like to go back.

Alone. At my own pace. Possibly even looking at the first four rooms.

As for visiting museums with children, I’ve already reached a first conclusion:

if you can, don’t take them until their social maturation is complete.

And if that isn’t possible, whatever you do, never tell them about the snake.