When I first saw this wheelbarrow, I was immediately reminded of Dick Bruna’s Miffy (Nijntje in the original). I thought perhaps my mind was making simplistic connections, or succumbing to easy suggestion – both Dutch, both using primary colours, and both wonderfully and deceptively simple – so I was glad to find this article about Bruna, which talks about the inspiration he drew from the De Stijl movement, and especially from Gerrit Rietveld, who designed this in 1923, four years before Bruna was born.
Rietveld designed it for the son of friend and fellow De Stijl member JJP Oud – I have found several references to a letter from Rietveld to Oud, in which the former included plans of the prototype for the wheelbarrow, though I have been unable to source the letter in digital format.
However, in 1943-44 he made a brochure called “Meubels om zelf te maken” (Furniture to make yourself). The Centraal Museum in Utrecht has this brochure, which includes plans for the wheelbarrow, based on the original design he made twenty years earlier.
When he created this, Rietveld was 35 and already had five children with his wife Vrouwgien (née Hadders) – Elisabeth (Bep) was 10, Egbert was 8, Vrouwgien (Tutti) was 5, Johannes (Jan) was 4 and Gerrit was 2. His sixth child, Wim, was born one year later. Children, and therefore playthings, would have been very present in his life.
His friend JJP Oud was 33 that year, and had his only child Hans, born on October 5, 1919. Given that the letter including the drawings for the wheelbarrow, referred to above, is dated October 5, 1923, it suggests that it might have been a gift for Hans’ 4th birthday (see comments regarding this piece on auction).
I like looking at certain early pictures of Rietveld, as the style of the clothing contrasts so starkly with the modern sleek lines and colourful designs he was creating – take a look at the first photograph included here.
I am struck by how familiar and how logical this wheelbarrow seems to me. My 2021 brain seems to have been hardwired to find De Stijl pieces immediately satisfying and beautiful to look at. Perhaps it is a matter of personal taste, although, interestingly, my 7-year-old son gasped delightedly when he saw it too – he found this wheelbarrow, designed almost 100 years ago, highly desirable.
At the time he designed this, Rietveld had already made his famous Red Blue Chair a few years earlier in 1918. Initially the chair was simply made of unstained beech wood (see again the first photograph here, where he is sitting on it), but Bart van der Leck suggested he painted the chair in high gloss primary colours. [As a side note, I didn’t know much about van der Leck’s work, and in my wanderings I came across this wonderful, playful poster he designed for an exhibition of his works in Utrecht.]
It sometimes strikes me that our relationship with primary colours is quite peculiar, and they are often relegated to the world of children, that minor world full of things that are too simple or bright to be taken seriously; as though simplicity were not a desirable trait. In the case of this wheelbarrow, I like that the colours come not as a choice based on the nature of the piece (a plaything for a child), but rather as a choice tied in with the philosophy of the De Stijl movement – a choice to distill the essence and harmony of any object.
The wheelbarrow has been pared down to essential lines – it is economical, precise, and beautiful. If it had been left in plain, unfinished wood, it would still be a wonderful design, but the colours seem to elevate it to a real masterpiece.
It was also a big challenge to draw with pencils – an object made of straight lines, a perfect circle and solid colours proved to be frustrating, especially because I stubbornly refused to use a ruler, and I am a great deal more comfortable drawing other kinds of textures. It was, indeed, deceptively simple, and if I hadn’t set myself a time limit, I would have redone the drawing time and time again.
The possibilities for play offered by a wheelbarrow like this are endless – you can use it to cart things around in (a favourite pastime of any kid of a certain age), but you can also very easily and intuitively use it as a ship, a house, a car, and many other things.
However, while I was jotting down my disjointed ideas about the benefits and possibilities of wheelbarrows, I had a recurring thought: no words can express the joy of a good wheelbarrow better than this drawing by the great Dick Bruna.