Transporting art: how Hasenkamp transported the shipyard model of the “Bremen IV” right across the city of the same name

Hasenkamp has grown considerably since it was founded in 1903. And it is still family-owned. At present the company is headed by Hans-Ewald Schneider. His son Thomas is the fifth generation to work in the company. Thomas Schneider learned about art from the cradle; and has probably been as close to it as no other. “When I was a youth I was allowed to help transport the Terracotta Army in Xian,” he reminisces. Thomas Schneider helped out, working in the family company from a very young age. “I have seen some absolutely fascinating transport operations; from the artefacts, thousands of years old, discovered in old sunken cities close to Alexandria to the Bernward Column in Hildesheim cathedral,” he tells us. You then get a feel for the immeasurable value of art very early on. And the family passes these values on to their staff. Of the 250 in Cologne – worldwide they number more than 1000 – 70 of them are drivers. “And every one of them is specially trained as an art technician,” says Schneider. “In our company all the drivers are instructed in how to pack and transport valuable goods and their awareness of the subject of art heightened.”

At the place where it’s all happening, six of these transport specialists greet those responsible at the museum and get straight down to work. Consultation around the “Bremen IV”. The men are wearing dark blue pullovers and white velvet gloves, which makes them look a bit like butlers. And they are just as circumspect. Very carefully the ship is made ready for transportation and secured with tensioning straps.

First station: the ground floor. Here the wooden crate awaits them. Before reaching the crate the carriers must get down 60 steps and a narrow stairwell. When they lift the ship, they take a long deep breath. Anton Sindilj estimates it to be “around 150 to 200 kilos”. His plan to bring six people was spot on. Step for step the model approaches the protective crate. Brief instructions echo through the museum: “Stop! Back! Put it down!“ Anyone who has ever helped a removal knows that words like that don't always achieve the desired effect. But that is not the case with the men from Hasenkamp. The ship lands safely in its wooden haven. Once in there, it is given an additional cover made of cushions, bubble wrap, and buckles.

Loading into the Atego is no problem either. And just like its big sister, the “Bremen IV” sets off on its maiden voyage. At its destination everything takes place in reverse order: hefting the kilos, groaning, a break, setting it down repeatedly. “With the crate, the construction weighs 100 kilogrammes more” Sindilj puffs. One of the men jokes: “Thank God I have already eaten a schnitzel today.”

The journey is over after just under four hours. The ship’s model is standing safely in its new place in the Focke museum. On the portside the lettering “Bremen IV” glitters in the warm sunlight that is shining through the window. The filigree mast stands as before. The golden threads that imitate the ship’s ropes rest undamaged in situ. The six men smile at each other in satisfaction. Yet again Hasenkamp has remained true to its highest credo. “The best thing that can happen to art: nothing!”