torsdag 13 april 2017

Work in progress in Sefrou


We come from different parts of the world and gather here at Culture Vultures’ residence in the market town of Sefrou, for inspiration, togetherness, work and exploration.  Now in its 8th year, Culture Vultures’ mission is to celebrate and facilitate local, national and international arts and offer immersive cross cultural experiences. The organization was set up by British visual artist Jess Stephens.

A blue door in a narrow lane in the heart of the medina leads to Dar Attamani, a Berber Jewish house estimated to be 400 years old, once the house of a Rabbi. From the roof terrace we can see the snow-capped Middle Atlas Mountains. A stork has built a nest up in the white minaret.

After a few days of orientation in the new environment, in the medina and the city of Sefrou with its brass cherry sculpture, work is in progress… Early in the morning I hear footsteps in the stairs: it’s young multidisciplinary artist Hsuan-Kuang Hsieh, born in Taiwan and living in Los Angeles, starting her work with the egg carton towers down in the small yard beneath my window. Local children help to paint them in bright colours.

Said El Haddaji, a young dancer from Casablanca, is presenting a performance in progress, Darkness, up on the roof in the evening sun, about a person who is “living inside an inappropriate environment”. Irena Paskali, born in Macedonia and living in Cologne, is also working on the rooftop, with pieces of wood blocks, which she has gathered from the local carpentry store.

Ana Wolovick, artist and art gallerist (Black Ball Projects) from New York, is taking charcoal prints of the door ornaments in the old synagogue, now abandoned, as almost all of the Moroccon Jews have settled in either Israel or France. Sharon Toval, an art curator from Israel, is assisting.

Gaella Gottwald, born in Croatia, shows the patterns she is using when weaving her shawls, with Mustapha Elghomari’s assistance. Becky Kinder, a painter from New York, did a textile installation in deep indigo blue. Every Thursday Billie M Vigne, a metalsmith and jewellery artist from England, joined a class of metal work in Fez.

And me, a Swedish speaking writer from Finland, exploring the Diamond Path (Vajrayana) and fusion jazz group Weather Report’s Mysterious Traveller for a future project, which will also include passages about Morocco. I am also constantly looking for a Violet twilight, inspired by a poem by Finland-Swedish modernist poet Edith Södergran (1892-1923).  My travel companion, Olle, a small Berlin bear, which I got from the poet Thomas Brunell, makes sure I sit every day in front of my laptop, even for a short moment, while life goes on in the medina and the birds in the yard chirp in a way I never heard before.

Like Anaïs Nin wrote in her description of Fez from 1937: “The atmosphere is so clear, so white and blue, you feel you can see the whole world as clearly as you see Fez. The birds do not chatter as they do in Paris, they chant, trill with operatic and tropical fervor. The poor are dressed in sackcloths, the semipoor in sheets and bathtowels (sic!), the well-to-do women in silks and muslins. The Jews wear a black burnous. In the streets and in the houses of the poor the floor is of stamped earth. Houses are built of sienna-red earth, sometimes whitewashed. The olive oil is pressed out in the street too, under large wooden wheels.” (The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol.2, 1934-1937)

Oh well, so many things have changed in the medina during the years, but some things may not have changed so much…

“Le matin, le ruisseau, l’horizon, la mer, le silence et la respiration, sont parfaits: Dieu a bien fait les choses.”

Abdelmajid Benjelloun, Une mouette réveillée d’une tempête (1990)

Hsuan  is collecting egg cartons.
Becky at work - or doing sudoku? 
Said performing at the rooftop.
Irena at work.
We are watching...
... people at work in the carpentry. In front, there is a plough.
Mustapha in his weavery.
Ana at work, with Sharon assisting.
At the Jewish cemetary in Sefrou.
Billie is showing the brass door knocker she bought in Fez.
Gaella is showing different threads for her shawls.
Artisans du Maroc and Berber Carpets of Morocco,
inspiring books at the residence.
This could be the motto in my life...
In our green kitchen, Said's turn to wash the dishes...
Friday couscous outside the CV office.
Moroccan batila on the rooftop.
Hsuan and Jamie at the local restaurant.
We always gave food to this small cat, as we knew
she had kittens nearby...
Cats up in the hills.
Exploring the caves of Sefrou.
Hsuan at work.
The egg carton towers are being painted.
Jamie is assisting and...
... so are Said and Billie.
We are the world, we are the children...
In Rabat I met professor and writer Abdelmajid Benjelloun.
Project presentation
Spring flowers in Sefrou...
... and in Rabat.
Irena is enjoying the evening sun.
The market in Sefrou
Fetching water from the nearby basin.
An old man reminding me of the protagonist in
Tahar Ben Jelloun's Quiet Days in Tangier
The brass cherries in Sefrou. Older and...
... younger people are passing by.. In June, there is a Cherry
Festival in Sefrou.
My desk is not always this tidy. The piece from a wooden
door on the wall is from the original house of the Rabbi.
My beautiful window. Olle, the tiny Berlin bear,
says hello.
A bookshop in Fez
Guests on the roof top. With  Mutsumi, Salim and Jamie.  
Outside the CV office. With Linda Zahava, who used to work
for the American Peace Corps with Berber women.
Jess receiving a call on the first day of the residency.
Where are you, darling?
Fatima Ouaryachi, assistant at CV.
The doctor and the nurse who took care of me
when my Nordic stomach revolted.
Sunday in Sefrou, almost everyone had arrived.
The walls of the medina can be seen in the background
The blue door of the residence.
Violet twilights in Sefrou. Olle says shukran!

2 kommentarer:

  1. Violet twilights låter vackert, nästan bättre än svenska. Skrev en gång en dikt om kärlekens blåa timme, kanske var det samma. Majvor

    SvaraRadera
  2. Riktigt violetta skymningar är sällsynta. Här är de rosiga, mörkret faller snabbt. Jå, den blå timmen, finast mitt i vintern vid klart väder. Hoppas se den blåa staden Chefchaouen innan det blir dags att ta färjan över till Spanien, tillbaka till fästning Europa.. Glad PåsK, Majvor!

    SvaraRadera