The Gritty City of Drachten

Because one branch of the DeHaan family originated in Drachten, I was anxious to visit the city and photograph the scenic areas and try to imagine life there in the 1800s.  I searched the small city for several hours, covering virtually every block and found almost nothing of interest.  It looked like any small city in any country, with stores and malls and apartment buildings that looked as if they were built from parts that came in an Ikea box.  I ended up photographing a gritty strip mall that went on for several uninterrupted blocks across the street from shabby apartment buildings where clothing hung on lines.  Those buildings seemed to be the essence of the city.

When I thought about it more carefully, it made sense.  Nineteenth century Drachten was a gritty town that had grown beyond any expectations because people were suddenly interested in peat.  The town was surrounded by peat bogs and a group of wealthy investors from Amsterdam sought to exploit the area by having the locals cut the peat and ship it back to Amsterdam.  Their company failed after it made a massive investment in canals and ships only to find the market in peat in a downward spiral.  But the little village of Drachten benefited from the investment and it grew up as a working class port city full of men who made rope and transported goods by sea.  They built bars and stores and small homes, but they didn’t construct cathedrals, monuments or elegant parks. 

This photo I found online shows a handsome bridge built as part of the city’s attempts at public art works some years ago. 

I located this bridge on my travels through town.  It is actually a walkway/bikeway over a series of highways filled with heavy traffic and the years have not been kind.  The colorful circle has chipped and rusted away and the effect is dulled by grime and graffiti.  It is a perfect symbol of the gritty cities that try to remake themselves in a more cultured tone, only to sink back to their working class roots when an economic downturn makes art an extraneous luxury.