“Steve McQueen leads a tour of Occupied City, considered the most dreaded location in Amsterdam.”

Estimated read time 8 min read

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Every corner of Amsterdam, from the smallest street to the most luxurious hotel, from the bridges spanning the Amstel canal to the tram stops near the Rijksmuseum, holds a piece of history from the city’s time under Nazi control. Whether it be the location of the first “No Jews Allowed” sign or the spot where a bomb was mistakenly dropped by the RAF, each place tells a story of Amsterdam’s years of occupation. Here, we can see where the attack on the civil registry office was planned.

As we walk the streets with historian and film-maker Bianca Stigter and her husband Steve McQueen, discussing their new film Occupied City, Stigter acknowledges the multitude of stories within these city walls. The stories of tragedy, betrayal, and devastation are plentiful and can be overwhelming. However, Stigter reflects on a deeper sadness – the lack of information on some individuals, reducing their existence to mere birth and death statistics.

Occupied City took two decades of meticulous research that Stigter conducted into the people and places of her home city from 1940 to 1945. In 2019, she published this as a book, Atlas of an Occupied City. It is now a documentary too, although the term hardly does justice to this four-hour, immersive, audiovisual time-travel experience. McQueen likes to compare the results of their collaboration to an 18th-century English garden, “where you are able to meander and get lost and be found again and go back on yourself”.

The couple has previously collaborated together. Stigter was the one who discovered Solomon Northup’s 1853 memoir, which was later adapted into McQueen’s Oscar-winning film 12 Years a Slave in 2013. She worked as an associate producer on that film and also on McQueen’s 2018 thriller Widows. In return, McQueen co-produced Stigter’s debut documentary Three Minutes: A Lengthening, which focused on the Holocaust. Despite some disagreements about directions, it is clear that their collaboration comes naturally as a result of their relationship. Stigter says, “We often discuss our individual work as well as our work together.”

Interrogations and torture … the school the Nazis’ brutal enforcers used as their HQ.View image in fullscreen

Out of all the collaborations between Stigter and McQueen, this one is the most personal. McQueen, who is 54 years old and was born in London, has been based in Amsterdam on and off since meeting Stigter 28 years ago. The original plan was to find footage from 1940 and overlay it with current footage. This was possible because Amsterdam was not heavily bombed like Rotterdam. This meant that the buildings, which mostly date back to the 17th century, still stand today. The idea was to create a contrast between the past and present by tracing the lines of the buildings in both sets of images. However, this idea was eventually replaced by an even better one. McQueen had the idea of using text as a representation of the past, like a whisper of the wind, and filming the present day to create a powerful juxtaposition.

This is the clever and seemingly simple method used by Occupied City to achieve its profound impact. It incorporates McQueen’s footage, which includes shots of all 2,000-plus addresses in Stigter’s atlas (although not all were included in the final version), and pairs it with a voiceover by Melanie Hyams, a young British-Jewish actor. Hyams reads out descriptions of each location during the occupation, highlighting who lived there and their actions.

One possible rewording could be:

The Gerrit van der Veen College, where McQueen and Stigter’s daughter were once students, was also the former headquarters of the Sicherheitspolizei during the Nazi occupation. While the school is now bustling with students and ringing bells, Stigter recalls that during the war, it was the most dreaded location in Amsterdam.

After receiving permission for entry, Stigter, a 59-year-old individual, leads us down a corridor lined with lockers to classrooms that were previously used as cells for prisoners awaiting interrogation and torture. In one of these classrooms, a lesson on history is currently taking place. The words “Hitler’s Ideeen” – which translates to “Hitler’s Ideology” – are displayed on the whiteboard. A few classrooms away, students are viewing a scene from The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas, a Holocaust film from 2008 that has received both praise as a valuable educational resource and criticism for downplaying the responsibility of everyday Germans.

The city in question, Occupied City, does not feature any exaggerated depictions nor does it try to teach a lesson directly. However, the incorporation of specific occurrences such as an anti-fascist demonstration following the rise of far-right political victories, and the recent replacement of an outdated monument with a memorial for the Holocaust, does prompt contemplation. When and how should we commemorate the most tragic moments? What is the true way to pay tribute to those who have passed?

In Amsterdam, there are memorial efforts such as the Stolpersteine, also known as stumbling stones or blocks. During our walk, Stigter points out one of these 10cm square brass plaques that are laid in the pavement. Each plaque is engraved with the name, birth date, and death date of a victim of the Nazis. This initiative was created by German artist Gunter Demnig in 1992 and has since spread throughout mainland Europe. While Stigter supports this idea, he also expresses some concerns: “Monuments can become like trees, easily overlooked without understanding their purpose.”

Voices of the past with scenes from the present … a moment from Occupied City.View image in fullscreen

McQueen’s Occupied City offers a unique approach to engaging with the past. He describes it as “sprinkling flour over this hidden history to bring it to light” and compares watching the film to attending a classical concert. Just as one cannot hold all of the music in their mind at once, the film’s complexity may cause viewers to drift in and out, projecting their own personal history onto it.

The findings shed light on historical events in an almost surreal way. After three hours, you may witness long-deceased heroes of the Dutch resistance once again blending in with unaware shoppers on Kalverstraat; or fitness enthusiasts in Beatrixpark practicing shadowboxing for their workout while defending themselves against uniformed officers from the Netherlands SS.

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According to Stigter, the brain has a tendency to fill in missing information. The connection between what we hear and see is not constant, but rather fluctuates. While there may be an obvious connection at times, other times there is no direct correlation. McQueen believes that Occupied City brings attention to this disconnect and showcases a significant lack of meaning. When watching a film, we naturally try to make sense of it, but in the case of our film, it is simply impossible to make sense of the murder of six million people.

Darkest moment … the occupation.

“Please view the image in full screen.”

McQueen encountered a practical challenge when faced with the daunting task of editing hours of footage. He describes the experience as “a lot” and decided to begin at the “deepest, darkest moment” and then move towards a “certain kind of light”. This darkest period was identified as the weeks after the Dutch surrender on 14 May 1940, during which a wave of suicides swept through the nation. Entire families chose death over living under Nazi rule. McQueen describes this as a point of complete darkness where there is no future. It is a state of hopelessness with no prospects for oneself or one’s children.

However, Occupied City ultimately returns to a sense of hope, brightness, and even playfulness – although not in a straightforward narrative style. Director McQueen clarifies, with a slight hint of offense, that he did not intentionally insert triumphant moments as in a Hollywood film. Instead, he aimed to portray the reality of living in difficult circumstances.

The filmmakers aimed to capture a particular mood in the narration, which is partly achieved through Melanie’s voice. According to McQueen, her voice is optimistic because she represents the present and has a vested interest in the future. The goal was not to simply teach a historical lesson, as Melanie is only slightly ahead of the audience and is constantly aware of it. Additionally, showcasing scenes of daily life in the city helped to convey this mood. While filming, McQueen was struck by the contrast between the present and past, such as seeing children playing where someone was once killed. This realization served as a reminder of the struggles and sacrifices that have led to the current state of being able to freely play or protest in the city.

Stigter suggests, “Let’s have a bar mitzvah.” McQueen concurs, “Yes, let’s have a bar mitzvah.” They may have been inspired by the last, magnificent scene in Occupied City, where kids – who happen to be friends of the couple’s son – happily pour out of the golden doors of a synagogue.

The film’s title has a multi-layered meaning, referencing both past invasions and the lingering presence of ghosts. Additionally, it reflects the preoccupied nature of modern cities, including this one. The city is a dynamic and bustling environment, where people are often too caught up in their own lives to contemplate the deceased.

Occupied City is both a form of recollection and a celebration of Amsterdam’s capacity to overlook. McQueen expresses his appreciation for the carefree attitude of the youth in the city, stating that they have every right to smoke and skip school. He notes that it is typically the girls who are seen smoking, and sees this as a form of defiance and protest.

Source: theguardian.com

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