Violetta skymningar: Violet Twilights at Saari

I augusti deltog jag i en utfärd till Saaris gård i byn Mietoinen i Mynämäki (Virmo), där jag vistades som Konestiftelsens residensstipendiat i januari och februari i år. Jag har en roman under arbete och jag var glad över både arbetsron och det sociala umgänget på Saari (plus det generösa stipendiet!).

Jag bodde i den röda f.d. köksvingen snett mittemot den gula huvudbyggnaden. Så fint att se platsen i sommargrönskan, de stora lövträden, dammen, den gamla brunnen, som blivit en metafor för den skapande verksamheten. Det var vid Saarigårdens brunn, en symbolisk samlingsplats, där stipendiaterna presenterade sina egna "djärva initiativ".

The Saari well, not necessarily this one, is a metaphor for creative gatherings.

Saaren kartanolla vietettiin elokuussa elojuhlia, salissa esiintyi saksofonitro Ava, jonka ohjelmistoon kuului sekä Bachia että Jukka Tiensuuta ja japanilaisia nykysäveltäjiä. Oli ilo nähdä Saaren taideteokset, tutut huoneet ja salit, joissa nautimme tiistaibrunssia projektiesittelyjen jälkeen. Yläkerran yhteisissä tiloissa katsoimme joskus elokuvia, vanhan kivinavetan keittiössä teimme perjantaisin ruokaa ja keskustelimme omista rohkeista avauksistamme, kinastelimme ja viihdyimme yhdessä.

Kaikki taideprojektit eivät ehkä toteudu suunnitelmien mukaan, ovat ehkä liiankin rohkeita, mikä on myös merkki eräänlaisesta onnistumisesta, mahdottomuuden visiosta, tai sitten ne muuttavat alati muotoaan, kapinoivat, näyttäytyvät eri valossa. Hieno takki, jollaisen pieni mies tilasi mestariräätäliltä, kutistuikin sadun eräässä versiossa nenäliinaksi! Eller ännu värre: Det bidde ingenting...

Tervetuliaispäivällinen tammikuun alussa.

Kim Simonssonin keramiikkaveistos.

Juustokakkujuhlat kartanon yläkerrassa.

Nina Rantalan kirkkoteos. Rauhala oli Saaren yhteisötaiteiteilija 2008-2010.

Kotona vertailin talvi- ja kesäkuviani. En ehtinyt elokuussa lintutornille asti, mutta tässä muutamia kuvia kartanoalueelta, keskellä sydäntalvea ja elokuisessa illassa. Ihastuin punaiseen latoon, joka näkyi työhuoneeni ikkunasta. Se piti kuvata yhä uudestaan ja uudestaan...

The Kitchen Wing, where I had my apartment. I loved the small red barn outside my window and took quite many pictures of it...

Swirling snow, like thin smoke. Snön yr i knutarna.

My beloved barn. Lato. Ladan.

In the end of January, the snow melted away...

... and then it snowed again...

Lampi elokuussa...

... ja helmikuussa. The pond. Dammen.

Hugo Almeida from Portugal.

Our snowman leaned more and more, as the February sun shone more brightly.

As a fiction writer I felt happy meeting international and Finnish artists representing a wide range of art fields in Saari, from animation and puppetry to comic book art, clown shows and various forms of community art, combining film, video and installation.

A writer's work can be extremely lonely and slow, once I spent six years working on a novel, and it never felt quite ready. But I guess all artists struggle with loneliness as part of the creative process. Late at night, while sitting in my cosy kitchen, I could see light in Hugo's and Hanneriina's rooms in the building opposite mine.

During my short visit at Saari in August, I saw new people sitting on the porch, a happy looking crowd having a summer workshop. In early January, the darkest time of the year, a Christmas tree lit up the porch, and it was far too cold to sit on the blue wooden sofa.

The residence artists come and go, but I am sure they all miss the quiet days at Saari, their work spaces in the barn, the sauna by the pond, the walks by the fields and all the "found art" of nature, shared moments in the barn kitchen or at the grill, where we once spotted Northern Lights. Neil Young sings in a song: Aurora borealis, the icy sky at night...

A selfie at breakfast in my kitchen.

Tatu Pohjavirta and Gabriela Munoz as Chula the Clown.

Sharing thoughts after the performance.

Hanneriina Moisseinen, preparing for her exhibition and comic book, Kannas.

Hugo Almeida and Martta Tuomaala, inspecting Martta's spinning bike.

Barbecue Lover's Carousel Pavilion , design Jan-Erik Andersson.

Dinner in the barn kitchen. Discussing our bold initiatives. At left: Outi Sippola,
Hanneriina Moisseinen. At right: Hugo Almeida, Kaisa Salmi, Daniel McCay.

Me at Sillankari with a nice view over the bay. It was almost -30 Celsius.

At Saari in August.

A new set of people enjoying the atmosphere at Saari.

The verandah in early January

The fields in August. The migrant birds are already getting restless.

The fields in late January.

On a misty Sunday morning, this friendly couple appeared out of nowhere...

I call my blog Violet Twilights, after a poem by the modernist poet Edith Södergran (1892-1923). The poem is surprisingly feminist for a poem published a hundred years ago, in 1916.
I am constantly looking for a violet twilight. Perhaps it doesn't really exist, or perhaps it is more like a melancholy state of mind. But I came very close to it at Saari during those magnificent, and slightly mysterious winter sunsets. They don't last too long, they come and go, so if you don't catch them right away, they are already gone.

Violett skymning i Saari. Sinipunervat hämärät (käännös: Pentti Saaritsa).

Jag blev väldigt förtjust i omgivningen i Saari och vandrade ofta till fågeltornen och utsiktsplatsen Sillankari, på jakt efter en violett skymning. Det blev nästan ett tvång: att fotografera träden som stod vid fälten strax nedanom gården.
I became slightly obsessed with taking pictures of the two trees standing by the field. Sometimes there were only subtle changes, a few new nuances caused by the melting snow, the sunshine, the mist. I was fascinated with the landscape when it was almost void of colours, only black trees and a sky that had turned "a whiter shade of pale". The blazing sunsets almost scared me! The colours seemed weird, almost surreal. And I swear I didn't manipulate the pictures, but it did happen that my camera made the sky look extra wild... The green trees in August seemed equally weird to me...
I guess I have to come back and take pictures of the trees in colourful October, or in May, when everything is light green and the migrating birds have returned.