Van Abbemuseum - Eindhoven

After a few days of wondering whether to play November melancholy or "mystery box" with the weather in the Netherlands, I decided I'd stared at the ceiling enough and it was time for a dose of culture. Real. No screens, no algorithms, no CBD-chewing commercials. Just me, art, and a museum called the Van Abbemuseum.

Van Abbemuseum isn't just a name that sounds like a brand of fancy biscuits. It's a place with a history, and it started in 1936 when a cigar maker (yes, cigars, not NFTs) named Henri van Abbe decided that Eindhoven, the city of industry and the future, needed something... more cultural. And instead of donating a few cigarettes to the municipality, the guy pulls out a solid collection of contemporary art and says, "Make a museum. Now."

The building was designed by Alexander Kropholler, an architect with vision and a soft spot for brick and symmetry. The result? A very decent, almost cozy building from a time when people still believed that style should include windows and walls, not just white cubes with a USB entrance. But the years passed, the art scene evolved, and in 2003 a deconstructionist extension was added to the original building. The result? A clash between “my grandmother is an aristocrat” and “my grandfather is a cyborg.”

Today, the museum covers nearly 10,000 square metres, with an imposing 27-metre tower designed by Abel Cahen, and officially opened by Queen Beatrix - because if you're going to do architecture like it's from the future, some royal representative better get it up and running. Inside? Spaces that make you feel small but smart. Or at least confused enough to pretend to be.

The collection... from classic modernists to the most confused children of postmodernism. Created originally with works by Dutch and Belgian artists like Jan Sluyters, Carel Willink and Isaac Israëls, and later expanded with the help of Edy de Wilde, who used to buy Picasso and Chagall with as much confidence as if they were today's TikTok traders.

What followed were years of conceptual and socially engaged investment under the leadership of Rudi Fuchs and Jean Leering, who decided that art was not just an aesthetic but a tool for change. Somewhere between these two titans came the idea that if you can no longer tell whether you are looking at a painting or a fire instruction, then art has done its job.

Since 2004, Charles Esche has taken the museum to a new global level by including artists from Eastern Europe, the Middle East and other parts of the world that the Western art scene has traditionally ignored. The collection now includes not only Picasso, Kandinsky, and Chagall, but also contemporary artists such as Yael Bartana, Solakov, Sasnal, Martha Rosler, Paul McCarthy, and others who challenge not only your eyes, but all your perceptual filters.

The museum's archive is an installation in itself. More than 5,500 folders integrated into the exhibitions through the Living Archive Project, an approach that doesn't just show history, but makes it breathe. You can touch, look at, even make your own context out of the exhibition, because here the visitor is not just a spectator, but an accomplice. And that, in a world of passive scrolling, is downright revolutionary.

One of the most fun moments is the so-called DIY Archive, where you can combine archival documents with real works and feel like a curator without the need for a degree from the University of Amsterdam. Context is not just a word for snobs. Here it is a weapon against boredom and ready-made interpretations.

Sometimes thinking around corners, sometimes in the middle of a screening of a video installation with a weeping tree, sometimes in front of an absurd sculpture that resembles a toy from an alternate reality. And that is its strength. If you ask me... I come for the art, stay for the absurdity, and leave with a new idea in my head. Or at least with the feeling that something in my perception has shifted. More or less.