Monumental difficulties

Grand Canyon National Park

There are few words that adequately describe seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time. Trekking down, 7.2 miles down the South Kaibab Pass, a new and more incredible vista around every corner, seeing geological history, layer by layer, the changes in colour and texture of this ancient earth material, feeling the change of the temperature, which heats up during descent, and witnessing  the accompanying ecology that follows hand in hand.

Its set me to thinking about the hardy individuals who ‘pioneered’ their way across the country and must have endured somehow against many obstacles. People like the Kolb brothers, who had the vision to see both a business opportunity and the will to share this extraordinary place with countless millions of awestruck people through their photography and cine film of their adventures.

The tiny Ghost Ranch at the very bottom, is a beautifully crafted and truly organic set of dwellings mostly made from stones and timber were designed by Mary Jane Colter, a pioneering woman Architect of the early 20th Century. Her buildings, which are designed not to be seen from above, are for the weary visitors  and Rangers who need shelter from this harshest of environments.

Even though the Canyon is in the hands of the National Parks and their hardy bunch of dedicated Park Rangers now, by my staying at Ghost Ranch overnight, then seeing the remains of the Pueblo Indian village, and walking the 11.5 miles back up the Bright Angel Trail, in the footsteps of all those Indians so long ago who lived here and used this walk, it has brought me to more deeply admire the Canyons earliest inhabitants courage, creativity and strength, to live in this harsh and incredibly hot climate.

It really was an amazing adventure and test of endurance too…my dodgy knees, wonky hip and temperatures of 120F in the shade.  A well timed dramatic thunder and lightning storm and accompanying cooling torrential downpour made the final and steepest final three miles up, slightly less physically challenging.

A thoroughly good soak in a hot tub and a really good massage today have put me right. Im stiff, im aching, but im proud!

The next adventure begins….

I did a BBC Radio interview yesterday morning live. Was interviewed by Ian Perry, who’d just come back from his holidays. We talked about my USA road trip which starts today, my work, this blog and my website. If i can get hold of the recording, I’ll post it on here.

The journey has started very well. I found myself bumped upto business class, so had a glass of champagne to take off. How very nice!

One of the questions the BBC producer had written for Ian to ask me was, is it appropriate for an environmental artist like me to be doing a road trip?

My answer is yes. The purpose of my trip is to go see and bring back what ive seen and learnt, to better teach and inspire more people. I’m involved in teaching eco building and sculptural art to people in Britain, having learnt techniques in Africa and the UK over the years. I plan to share what i learn from the States with the community back in the  United Kingdom primarily, but am intending to run eco encounters internationally in the future.

So, in the States, I’m going to be researching eco building methods, and im particularly looking for pioneers to learn from. I will be visiting eco architectural sites, meeting and interviewing eco artists, soaking up the landscapes that have influenced major artists like James Turrell, Georgia O’Keefe and Frank Lloyd Wright.

I’ll  be spending time with artists and even a Shaman from the Pueblo Indian Tribe – peoples who still live close to the earth.

I’ll be walking in the footsteps of environmental artists and making work in situ out in the states too. When im in the cities i’ll be checking out the local artists scenes and the major art galleries too.

I have some fixed points on my journey, – some people to meet up with along the way, some sights id like to see, but have left my itinerary pretty open too, so as to allow spontaneity and whimsy.

As i sit here writing, waiting for my connection to LA in Calgary, Canada, i’m incredibly excited to have been given this opportunity. I plan to use it well.

Recycled Book sculptures – to Mali with love

My work has developed into other ways too…..

Since creating the recycled book sculpture ‘Drink Deep’, shown at my first solo show, Meetings in the Middle of Somewhere, I now appeal for, collect, sculpt with, and then arrange the transportation of the undamaged books to people who need them in Africa.

So since returning back to the UK, I’ve collected over 1000 English paperback books and made temporary sculptures with them. Next, I will drive the books to Mali and there I will make a centre piece for my solo show at Gallerie Maison Carpe Diem in mid December. After this, they will be moved to the Festival Sur le Niger, be transformed into another sculpture, and then finally, once dismantled, they will be donated to the very impoverished public library in Ségou, the second city of Mali.

Why to Mali?

Over the past eighteen months, since i first visited the country, Mali has given me inspiration, love and a motivation to think wider about humans and our interconnectedness. It feels appropriate to give something back.

Mali is a gentle, safe country full of smiles and positivity and the most incredibly beautiful music on earth. All this is despite the poverty and the climate change felt as encroaching desertification, which threatens livelihoods and food production in the country.

Why English books?

Mali is one of the poorest countries in Africa. Learning to communicate in our shrinking world is seen as essential. Although French is widely spoken, there is a little basic English taught at school.  Those who have learnt some English get little or no access to any resources to continue to improve their language learning. Its rare to see English written, and rarer to hear it spoken. This is start.

A drawing by Beverley Fry of me and my Book Hive made live with public help and participation at Wenlock Poetry Festival 2010

Next year im planning to take English books to Timbuktu.

There are ways in which you can help me do this. Someone very kind could lend me a van, or could pay for some fuel.

Someone very kind could order books from African publishers who employ Africans writing in English.

If you are that very kind person, please contact me. Id love to work with you.

Encounters with Presidents – probably the last blog from Mali, for now

After having a week back in Segou, working with Dolo, getting my head around leaving this wonderful country and actually getting to grips with the practicalities of leaving, im now in a beautiful Campement 30 minutes from Bamako on the road to Segou. This place is great; completely the opposite to Bamako. Cool, peaceful, clean, with few very people; a place yet to be discovered.

I have to be in Bamako for my flight home on Sunday evening, so this is the perfect antidote. Half an hours drive away from the sprawling, polluted city. While chilling here, dipping my toes in the swimming pool, I admired Marian and Herve’s achievements, in making an eco space, with beautifully designed wooden furniture and textiles, and an evident ability to create a little tranquil oasis.
Despite Bamako being sprawling, messy, and a little crazy, I suddenly I find my self delighted with it. Perhaps it’s the company, perhaps its just being in a city for a change.
Last night I met up with Jhony Chancel, the singer/dancer who is Salif Keita’s young Albino friend. He’s 26, lives mainly in Dubai and will be rehearsing with Salif this year, then cutting his CD and touring with his band next year.

After working out our programme, Jhony and I decided to try to find Toumani Diabate performing, only to find he performs the first Friday of every month at Espace Bouna. Ah well, a night of Salsa then, at the Terrace, an open topped bar and night club in Hippodrome. Jhonny is quite a dancer, and so we had some great twirls together, but before that we visited his apartment in Bamako, here evidence of a creative life. Half finished paintings, photos on the wall arranged in a spiral. A monkey (like Frida Kahlo) and a dog.

After creeping back into the campement at 2am, I found to my delight, the same dogs who’d befriended me were sleeping at the door of the marquee sized nomadic tent im sharing with four other people ive never met. I managed not to disturb any of them, and slid into bed like a phantom.

Bamako; the capital of World Music
Its hard to find a capital that could complete with Bamako in the both the quantity and quality of top ‘World Music’ musicians concentrated here. Already today i’ve been invited to the  soiree benefit for Association for integration of Albinos in Malian life, by Madame (Mafi) Keita, at the Maison de Jeunes, and i’ve been to Mouffou, Salif Keitas centre and rehearsal space. Im now at the CCF listening to an expert on Afro Pop, well im trying to; he’s speaking in French. After this im going to the concert here, featuring Koko Dembelé, a Rastafarian musician, playing with Afouss, a French/Moroccan group.

The CCF concert was a complete delight. Damy Thera, a top sculptor here, spent the evening with me. The two Affouss singers sang in the ullulatative Moorish style. We specially enjoyed the performance of Koko Dembelé, the Rasta. After, while chilling in the yard drinking cooling drinks, I bumped into Yousouff, another great Rasta guy id met last year at the Segou festival, and had been hoping to see again.
Again, I managed to creep into bed again without disturbing anyone and again, the dogs were guarding the tent.

Last day in Mali, for now.
This campement offers the tired and frazzled traveller a range of spaces in which to chill. There are beautifully designed chairs and swing seats to loll about in. There’s a lovely L shaped pool. A small and a giant hammock, beautiful eco buildings.  A group I saw at the Segou festival had come too. Modibo Keita, a friend I made at the festival, decided to come and visit me, so we walked around the site looking, and climbed up to the view point and Yoga terrace.

ATT – Amadou Toumani Troaré
Having heard there were potential flight delays because of snow in France, I decided to try to find wi-fi in a cool (i.e in not hot) place, and ended up at the Hotel Amité, a very posh place. (Airfrance had sent me an email, but nothing regarding delays) After making the alarms sound at the security barrier, and being waved through too quickly, I found the place was full of immaculately suited, friendly Guinean Business men, very keen to push their business cards onto me. At a different coffee table to mine were several beautifully dressed ceremonial guards. I asked if they were part of the army, and  a business man replied, they are waiting to greet ATT, he’s coming to see the Guinean president any minute. Any minute came, and to the sound of sirens, ATT arrived, shook hands with a few people and was whisked into a room. Only ten minutes later he was leaving again, mean time no one had been allowed to leave the hotel grounds. Lock down.

Wishes can come true
This evening my wish to see Salif Keita again came true! Jhony took me to his home and I joined them for supper.
My meeting was about me wanting to involve the Salif Keita Foundation in my Olympic Mile Project, with the Foundation potentially being a beneficiary – or being involved.  They are up for it! Salif Keita will donate some of his old sports shoes  – the ones he performs in normally – for a celebrity shoe installation I will make  and and they will be sold in an auction of celebrity shoes that will help to fund the project. Jhony may come and do a benefit too. I met Salif, the founder, Mafi, the President and Modibo Cheik Diarra, a Patron of the Foundation and UNESCO Good Will Ambassador (tipped to be the next President of Mali in 2012).

Salif’s house is approached across a wide beautifully manicured garden, that’s after getting the nod from the armed guard outside. This cleanly painted white house, has a cool riverside setting. The sky was intense with the electrical storm overhead. Rain was falling in cool, fat, dust settling drops. A great cooling breeze fanned us further.I noticed that there were several peacocks standing around the garden.

We met in a covered area, outdoors, it being too humid to be indoors.  We sat on cane seats with plush comfortable seats; very unusual in Mali. The food was brought in a big wide covered dish, and set on the table before us. After Mafi had arranged it for us to eat, most of us used our hands. Spoons were optional. I was invited to meet and talk further with Salif in London when he comes to the Barbican in April.

Jhony took a very lovely photo of me and Cheick, sitting side by side, grinning, he was be-robed in a beautiful blue grand Boubou. Then I took one of Jhony with this great guy. An ‘engineer’ (his words), who sent the Mars space probe off, from NASA. I found out later after I’d ‘Wikied’ him in the airport, that he is the first ever Black African to work in the Pentagon, a programming genius, AND  the Chairman of Africa and Middle East, Microsoft Corporation. If I had known that earlier, I probably would have been a lot more nervous!

Moving on to Djenne

So, my head barely touched the pillow before I was awoken by a phone call at 7am, to say the ride to Djenne had been cancelled and I was better off catching the bus at 8am. I was all ready to go and after locating a taxi, managed to get to the bus station around 8.30pm. Somatra travel loosely operates a first come first served basis. The bus wasn’t yet loaded, and there seemed to be constant arguments about passengers and storage of goods. We managed to leave around 9.30, people and goods packed in.  I sat fairly near the front, and was cooled by the air coming into the bus through the drivers window, great when it was moving, but the heat built quickly as soon as it stopped.

We headed in an easterly direction nearly all the time, roughly working in parallel to the great river Niger. Around five hours later, the bus stopped at Djenne Carrefour (Junction) and a few of us stepped across the road to the bush taxi rank. Seydou had arranged a motorbike to pick me up, so I deposited my big suitcase on the taxi roof for 1000 CFA (£1.50), arranging for it to be left at the taxi depot in the square in Djenne. I waited for Oumar; a man in a green Boubou on a black bike was the only description id had.  I waved off the taxi and the USA Peace Corps guys I’d danced with at the Bar the night before. The bike arrived, not quite the Harley id dreamed of, but he we went at a good pace, despite the pot holes, wind in my hair, just the way I like it. At one of the villages we passed the bush taxi, off loading someone or something. Djenne is situated on a bend of the Bani River, a tributary of the Niger.  At Sanouna, where the small motorized ferry crosses, I was deposited, camera in hand, on the waters edge, while the bike was lifted into a tiny Pirogue. Two minutes later we were on the other side and were whizzing along the road again. The road is raised here, like a causeway, so there is a great view across the low marshes. On either side pools blooming with water lilies, rice, rich green pasture full of birds, cows, and Fulani herds people.

The road was busy with horse drawn carts, motorbikes, donkey carts and bush Taxis leaving the busy market which make Djenne a tourist magnet on Mondays. After crossing the small bridge into town, Oumar took me for a spin around the towns outer perimeter. The town, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is made of a pale local mud. Re coated most years, the building become organic rounded forms Im here to work with the top master mason to learn about the practical process of building and maintaining houses here. After checking in to my hotel and being shown my room, which to my delight had a bed with a thick mattress, a toilet, a shower and a sink (luxuries I will always appreciate after 35 days sleeping on the floor, drawing my own water from the well and washing in a bucket).

A picture diary

Sunset over the Bani-bo	Solo, Salif Keita's Drummer
Messing around with Madou	Jhony Chancel, Dancer - with one of my artworks
Meeting with Salif Keita	Lettre du l'eau et du Feu 5
Letter of Water and Fire	La Petroleuse Vanessa
Excuse me while I kiss the ...	Fixing my watering calabush.
Donkey carts as far as the eye can see.	A view towards Djenne.
A Balanzan Tree.	De Bacou Traore.
Habib bowing kisses at my camera.	A cool interior in Ton's house.
Another blue period piece.	And another!

The festival begins in earnest

The Festival Sur le Niger is a feast of Malian culture. Set right on the River Niger’s edge, it offers a fabulous range of spectacles from Mali’s diverse population, made of many different tribes, each with its own special identity. Performers too are invited from the neighbouring countries and there is usually one or two guest artists from overseas. At the Festival its possible to see, within a fifteen minutes walk, Dogon stilt dancers, surreal and elegant; giant Bamanan dancing puppets; chill in the serene and cool art gallery; visit the busy artisan market, and see Tuareg dancers, dancing their traditional elegantly tranquil version of hip hop.

In the evenings, the giant floating stage, comes alive and its possible to hear guest artists from around the world, and see a selection of Mali’s greatest musical legends, of which there are many. Reading the evening programme is like seeing a who’s who of world music. With concerts by Habib Koité, Salif Keíta, Nahawa Doumbi, Néba Solo, Koko Dembélé, Abdoulay Diabaté, not to mention Baba Maal, the Senegalese singer.
If that’s not enough music and culture, its even possible, to dance at the Festival night club till four in the morning. Maybe next time.
The Festival Buzz
Like all festivals there is an excited buzz, first in the weeks leading up to it, then more tangibly as the traders and towns people begin to arrive in droves to see what’s happening, and who can buy their goods. The gated site itself has a relaxed approach to visitors in the morning, but as the day goes on, anyone not in possession of an arm band is absolutely not permitted. Having said that, I managed to get Oumou in several times, by walking hand in hand with her through the check point.

In the afternoons, the buzz is reawakened especially when a celebrity does a sound check on the main stage, and there’s a first glimpse of the musical feast to come.
Water borne drama at the Festival opening
The first evening celebrated the past fifty years of Malian music, with different artists performing, famous in each era, interspersed with speeches by a variety of big wigs, the Festival Director, Daffé and the Town Mayor, Oussou Simaga. Also speeches came from the Mayors of the guest towns, Kayes and Goundam, which represent different cultural regions, each had brought dancing troupes to add to the variety, to make this a truly cross cultural event, there were also a musician from  the Netherlands, and an English guest artist; me!

This is the sixth edition of the festival, and it coincides with celebrations of Mali’s fifty years of independence. The past 50 years of malian music was represented by some of the best musicians assembled together to perform in the National Instrumental Ensemble of Mali, with Neba Solo leading them. Solo performances from Amy Koita, Tata Bambo, Ba Tounkara and Néba Solo. If that’s wasn’t enough, the band Super Biton played too.

While they played and the politicians made speeches, a motor boat plied up and down the river, creating huge waves. I instantly disliked this and felt it out of context with the usual tranquil river. Im used to the sight of the slow and gentle progress of the Pirogues; shallow draft wooden boats pushed along by a person wielding a long pole, very similar to Venice’s Gondoliers. A couple of Pirogeurs quite close to the stage, caught a particularly strong set of waves, and both were pitched about, and almost capsized, to the screams and dismay of the audience. Modibo Keitá, the Director of Protocol, a friend of mine, ran to the riverside with police and tried to flag them down to stop. For me the whole episode reminded me too much of the insensitive, showy behaviour of ski boarders and motor boaters at the coast in Europe, and I didn’t like it at all.
Daouda
This is a remarkable young man; a musical prodigy. He plays brilliantly, the drums; Djembe and tam tam, the Kora, (like a harp) and accordion. He tells me he’s thirteen, but everyone here knows he’s 9. (How many of us haven’t lied about our age at sometime?) If he wasn’t blessed with gifts enough, Daouda has the most remarkable winning smile. He plays in the restaurants and bars of Segou most evening, earning money for his family. His evening are long, with a few short breaks, if he is lucky. Last night he played until after I left, with the Dolo’s at 1 am. Oumar the owner of the Bar Alphabet, our venue , was very keen to introduce Segou’s Prodigy, “Our Duaoda” and talked excitedly about his remarkable talent.
I discussed his talent with Dolo. I asked if there was a Music Conservatoire in Bamako, yes he said, Dauoda has to go to school here in Segou till he is 18. At present he is in year 3, having started school in 2007. Clearly he has a very long time to wait, till he get anything but the excellent training of his master, and mentor. An early rise to fame, would be a fabulous way of supporting his family, but fame at an early age can bring problems too. I wonder whether there is anything I can do to help him achieve his potential. I have offered to teach him some better English, while here, and I feel that I should mention him to one of the teachers of the Birmingham Conservatoire, a fellow West African, Jahman Sillah, who played at my Walsall show recently.

Watch out for Daouda in the future, I predict he will be a mega star. He deserves to be.

Meeting Habib Koité
After spending time at the Festivals Koré Gallery, listening to local bands, watching marionettes and chatting to visitors from all over the world, Damy, Rafiy and I decided to go and visit Habib Koité. Simple as that. Damy had heard I am a big fan of Habib‘s, and both being ex colleagues of the college of Beaux Arts, in Bamako, he had access to him. We waited outside his changing room after his sound check, and when he was ready we greeted him. Standing for photos to be taken, laughing and joking about Damy’s insistence on looking at Habib in the photos, and not the camera. I invited Habib to come and see the exhibition, and so, after slow progress across the festival site, hand in hand, we arrived. We’d chatted (between his being greeted by many admirers), about when he will next come to Britain. (there are no plans) We took him to see Damys work first, then mine. He particularly liked the sculpture I’d made from a pair of beautifully sinuously curved cows horns, painted white, arranged in flowing a circle, situated above a pool of beautifully marbleized Kaolin blue id painted. I explains it symbolises the cycle of life, and its dependence on water.

Damy showed him Dolo’s work, then Rafiy had him to himself, giving him a copy of Artistik Africa, in which he features. After more photos, Habib signed the exhibition visitor book and we escorted him back to the meleé to be mobbed again by fans.

Musical explosions and meeting my hero
With so many excellent musicians here, its possible to come across sudden, spontaneous jamming sessions in the bars and cafés. Yesterday the drummers from Salif Keita’s band delighted me and my new Austrian dancer friends by started a recital on the talking drum, whilst we were chatting over a cool glass of water. This was only half an hour after I came across Jhony Chancel, an Albino, who is working with Salif Keita. He is a protégé from the Salif Keita Foundation. Id met Jhony in May 2009 at the Bamako Jazz festival. Within seconds of bumping into him this time, I was whisked onto the floating stage and into the changing room of probably my all time music hero, Salif Keita.

I mentioned earlier I discovered Salif’s Albino Foundation when I met the Graphiste who was designing the festival brochure. I asked him to see if he could arrange a meeting when Salif came to play, and he said he would try. Id heard nothing from him, and knew today was the day Salif would play. I decided to call him to prompt him just incase he had forgotten. After discovering I had no phone credit left to call with, I left the Festival site, I walked up the dusty, busy little road toward the cabin where i usually bought my credit. Towards me walked Jhony, all smiles and recognition. Within a few seconds he was saying ” Wren, I’m performing with Salif Keita this evening, do you want to come and meet him right now?”

Here Salif was, sitting quietly in the airy grass mat, walled space, before sound checking. We said our greetings in French, then asking if he spoke English, he beckoned me to sit with him, and chat. I mentioned our mutual friend, his ex manager Julie, and that I was keen to talk to him because of the idea I have for an arts project which could benefit his foundation. He invited me to his home in Bamako to discuss in more detail what I propose. Wow. I cant begin to tell you how good I felt after that, I was as high as a kite!
No sooner has Jhony and I said our goodbyes, we were accompanied by the drummers and Austrian music and dance students to the café, had the fabulous spontaneous drumming gift and then, Souleyman ‘Solo’ the main group drummer and Jhony to see my exhibition. I took them across to see it. This caused a huge stir in the Gallery, with young and old guys queuing to get photos of us, positioned by my work. I showed them the blue foetus world piece, that I think would make a great album cover and they agreed. Solo and Jhony took my details, and they both told me to definitely get in touch back in Bamako. So who knows what will happen.
Finding peace in the midst of a meleé
The Festival site gets hot and busy, and its great to know I have found a tranquil space, a stones throw from the auditorium, from the restaurants and gallery, to sit and rest. Here under the shade of mango trees, there is always tea brewing, and Tidiané the manger of the neonate (cleaning) usually presides. He never sits down for more than a minute each time, as he’s constantly busy, rushing off to sort some problem, or on the phone. There’s generally a tea pot brewing and one of his welcoming workers in attendance.

The final preparations

All the work that the combined workshop artists have made, plus a few other guest artists, have been collected together and have been mounted at the two exhibition spaces. The first, the Koré, a purpose build gallery at the Festival site, and the second here at the Atelier, or “Chez Dolo” as we call it.

The preparations took two days. Beginning with the selection – each workshop artist was allowed three pieces for the Kore Gallery- then the transportation. With thirteen artists showing their work, that took a long while. I was a bit stunned to see how carelessly the work is handled and, remained in fear that my pieces wouldn’t reach their destination intact. But that was groundless. Despite the lack of bubble wrap, blankets or any kind of padding, everything was as it should be. The few invited artists (that’s me, and Wolo – Ouloguem) eventually had the chance to show a few more pieces. But I had to make a stand and  ask for that, three really wasnt going to do justice to my work here.

A new artists arrived on the preparation day. Damy Therá, a top Malian Sculptor, and respected ex professor at INA; the Institute National de Arts, in Bamako. I was very impressed that he just got on and helped to clear the space. There was no time to talk to him, as we were all busy, but I noticed that he started with straightening of Dolo’s mass carved outdoor piece, and picked out the rubbish that had drifted in between. So despite his fame, a humble man; no egoist. He and several others then, poured water everywhere, raked and swept the sandy ground that is the garden here, getting out all the cigarette buts, plastic bags and accumulated grot.
Earlier that morning, Madou and friends had taken all the rubbish they had tipped over the wall out of site, and burnt it.

It wasn’t till after the pictures and sculptures had been installed that the atelier floor got a final sweep. Water was poured first to stop the dust raising, then swept with hand brushes, made from flexible but strong grass tied together in a simple bunch. After everything was finished, the space looked amazing.
The Festival exhibition opens
We assembled at the Koré  Gallery to await the arrival of the Minister, who cut the ceremonial ribbon at the door. Once inside, we were encouraged to stand close to our work, so we could greet him as he made his tour around it. I asked Dolo to explain my work as my French wasn’t up to it. Many cameras flashed, and a video rolled. Daffé, the Festival organiser said he would like to talk more to me after the festival.  As soon as he had finished the tour and signed the visitors book, we all piled into cars to greet him again at the atelier. Again a ribbon was cut, and the Minister went around the work. He chatted with me, for a while, looking at the complete installation with interest. The dry banko id sprinkled in serpentine sweeps on the floor, connecting the largest cracked piece with the rectangular raked banko background to painted calabashes, and the large mud piece I had placed on it early that morning. He asked me if this was my first exhibition in Africa. Yes, I replied, Mali is my first. He was very pleased with that answer.

Many others, including Chab and Katherine arrived and spent time taking it all in.
An opening is called a Vernisage here, which is literally a varnishing. The last stage of making of an oil painting. There is no tradition of giving free drinks, as far as I can tell.

Post opening Supper
After the two openings, and the final visitors had drifted away, we went off to the Motel Savane, the Festival HQ, for a sit down dinner. The table and chairs are permanently outdoors here, as its too hot inside, and the atmosphere very friendly. I chatted to Oumou, the ex head of Save the Children, Mali, and her rather grandly attired husband wearing a fabulous blue Boubou, and peasants straw hat. I’d met him outside the Koré Gallery earlier- he’d surprised me by saying Birmingham in a brummie accent, when I explained roughly where I lived. They were the official delegated from Richmond Virginia, a town just twinned with Ségou. During the supper, Mangala a well known Malian singer played to us as we ate, followed by  a few speeches of welcome to various bigwigs and artists.

There is nothing like opening a festival with a bang.
Straight on to another arts event after that, to Maison Carpe Diem, which was very busy with people, watching a short film on Bogolan technique and again on to the Chasseur Festival, the traditional gathering of hunters, who randomly let off their old gunpowder fuelled musket rifles, accompanied by dancing drummers. Unfortunately there weren’t any lights, so the detail of costumes was lost to the dark. Rafiy, Emmanuel and I were pretty close to these hunters, and one time I saw a huge flare of gunpowder explode around a hunters head. It was like a slow motion burst of flame, a bit like being next to a fire breather, but much, much louder! The hunter didn’t seem to be that bothered, but i decided it wasn’t the safest place to be. I remember seeing Michael Palin being hit by a gunpowder shot during his time in the Dogon area, in his Sahara based series.

Space Invaders

What a different atmosphere this place has now. The other artists, all African men, are delightful, noisy, and fun. There is a clown amongst us Lam, and a “Grand Frere” (big brother) Sinaly. (its an age thing)
Even though none of us speak each others languages fluently, we have a connection; in perception, in possibilities and in creativity.
There is a lot of joking about, but seriousness too.
A respect for one an others ideas and creative space. Encouragement, admiration of process, understanding of waiting to find inspiration. Its fine to lie down and just sleep, and several of us have done that.
Its lovely to be surrounded by people who just get on with it, happy to be who they are, and not feeling they have to prove anything to anyone.
We are all working to the theme of water. Ive switched today to using blue. I laid a crushed diluted ground of Kaolin (china, a pale grey colour when dry),  in a circle id drawn on one of the small white boards, and added just the faintest blue paint in swift fluid strokes, then picked up and moved the quickly setting Kaolin paint, to create blurs, and pools of colour. I then dried in the direct intense sun. Within minutes it started cracking, within hours it was thoroughly dry and stunning to look at. I made sure all the tiny thin pieces were firmly glued to the board to finish it. With the artists, an abundance of materials have arrived. Lots of Calabashes were brought over this morning. I admired several for their skin textures. Ive had an idea to use the Kaolin paint effect on the outside of a calabash. I tried to buy some at lunch time, but the woman was trying to charge a Toubab price: twice as much, so Dolo refused, and sent Youssef, the Workshop Director to buy some later. After a while he turned up with three big beauties, each with a circle cut in the top.  These would be used for watering plants. I aim to paint the outside to look like a planet. The surface I want to have some rivers , some oceans, and many areas of cracking. We will see what happens tomorrow.

Could I be entering my Blue period?

Chab came again to the Atelier, and loves the new blue work. The latest experiment or play, is work with ground Kaolin, which I think is China Clay. I added some blue colour to it, and wow, it marblised. As the second piece dried, it cracked beautifully too, and now I notice that ive painted a Foetus in a blue world, with a river for an umbilical chord. Im beginning to apply this same Koalin blue mix to objects ive found that are appropriate for the water theme. The watering Calabashes, that people use here in the gardens seems a good place to start.

Lettres de l’eau est du feu (Letters of water and of fire)

Lettres de l’eau est du feu (Letters of water and of fire):
That’s what ive decided to call the work that ive been making out here, in Mali, when I have my next exhibition. I found this title staring out at me from a cutting from La Monde, a French newspaper, one that id chosen to be a back ground to one of the largest pieces, so far. Its such an appropriate title, as Im using water and the suns heat here, to make change to the raw earth. By trial and error, Im developing methods to do this, learning how to get the different effects. The back grounds are sometimes one or two coats of a weak white acrylic paint, or newspaper glued on to a thin plywood board.