VERBIER, Switzerland – The morning is a beautiful one, perfect for the Vernissage. I stare out of my hotel window from my bed slightly wary of moving, as I cannot be sure how much damage I have done to myself on the previous day moving the four tonnes of stone around my piece. I begin to move slowly as the lure of a roasting-hot shower followed by a super-strong coffee forces me overcome my fear. All seems well, however, and I make it to the bathroom with no ill effects.
The aroma of coffee permeates the room, and I allow myself to daydream about the coming day. We are to go up the mountain at 10:30 this morning, loaded with a packed lunch and tokens for free wine and ‘raclette’ provided for the farmers and their ‘fighting’ cows. The artists and their audience will be mingling with the crowds who have come to enjoy the traditional spectacle of the cows herding onto the mountain pasture. One wonders how the locals will take to Sabine and Alou’s performance scheduled for 12 o’clock.
The Swiss raclette is a strange thing. It involves a lot of queueing and the delivery of a tiny amount of melted cheese onto a new potato, with, if you are very lucky, a bit of melted cheese rind thrown in. After two mouthfuls it is gone, and you must queue again. The Swiss love their traditions and preserve them with alacrity. I, for one, am not sure that this ritualized method of eating is worth preserving. The farmers seem to love it, though, and use the queueing system as a social network, their conversation never slowing. It is the wine that really holds sway. They love their wine, and there is a large quantity being consumed in the powerful lunchtime sun.
Sabine and Alou stride out into the pasture, having positioned four bright orange mats to define a square performance area, Sabine holds a megaphone. The farmers lined up on the fence look on, intrigued. Sabine begins to talk through the megaphone as Alou begins to move around the mats. He moves in an incredible way. He is part animal, part marionette. Indeed, it is such a shock that the entire crowd’s attention focuses on him, and their conversation is halted at last. At the performance’s end, Sabine is perched on Alou’s back as he kneels on the ground. The applause is generous, even amongst the farmers. The crowd drifts away toward the rest of the sculpture park to view the other works, the sun now high in the sky.
There is an unparalleled thrill in watching people approach one’s artwork. I love to see people react and investigate. They tip their head to get a better look, or crouch down. Some are brave enough to touch the aluminium and give it a gentle stroke. This is what art is about for me; it is nothing without an audience. Watching people ‘looking’ is wonderful thing. We don’t often work at looking, but when we do, the rewards are enormous. The lovely Adrienne, a mature lady who speaks immaculate English, strides up to my work and positions herself inside it. She understands it immediately and stays to reflect for a while. She is an ideal audience, open and inquisitive.
We make our way along the path that bisects the sculpture park and watch as people admire Josette’s fabulous boat piece, a work that seems about to cast off and float away down the valley, despite its being cast from five tonnes of cement. Julien’s inverted aquarium with writhing cement fish overhangs the path and has a small gang of children clambering up the slope. They try to touch the fish, but they are out of reach. The last big obstacle is to climb up to Onyedika’s piece, which is in a derelict cable car building some 200 feet above the path. The heat makes this difficult, but it is well worth the effort. He has fabricated a large dome-like structure with quasi-stained glass windows in it. They cast a colored light onto the walls and floor below, while his wooden ‘double nymph’ piece diagonally cuts across the space like a lurching hyphen.
As we make our way back to the cable car, we find that Elly Cho’s video work installed in one of the cable cars has freed from its supports and is parked in the entrance to the lift. This is our cue to return to the town, where the party will start to mark the culmination of the residency.
Amazingly, we have been on the mountain for six hours, and my neck, face and forearms bear witness to this, as they are already bright red. I really don’t care, as I reflect on a fantastic day.
The Hotel Nevai is the venue for the speeches and the drinking. We have not been out on the town at all during our stay and I feel the need to let my hair down. A final dance performance by Alou and the speeches by Kiki frees us to indulge in some large glasses of wine.
The conversation is good, and I talk to many interesting people. The feedback is very positive, and as the evening approaches, we move down to the local nightclub. Everything after this is a blur. I am sure that I did have a good time — at least that is what everyone told me.
So the residency is over, and I have to return home. There will be a strange period of adjustment as I readjust and return to my more-normal routines.
This is ironically where the next period of hard work starts, I now must market the work, get it publicized and try to show it to as many people as possible. If I want to get another opportunity like this one, I need to advertise myself.
I wonder if they would have me back next year? Perhaps I should propose another work for the park… one that they cannot resist…..after all, if you don’t ask you don’t get.
# # #
ADDITIONAL IMAGES OF NOTE
