Session 2: From common ideal (golden egg) to own ideal (Self-portrait with words)

“If you were”… is a sentence full of promises, an easy trip to the land where everything is possible. It is the revelation or the wish of what is in the golden egg.

Tonight, around the golden egg,  with the artclub, we are going deeper on what we would be if we were… You are what touches you not what you think you are. The aim is to learn to know each other deeper than the surface by creating a palette of answers to the question “if you were a form of art”. I will illustrate all questions with answering with my poetries in French.

 

If you were a dance or a music.

Would you be a Jiří Kylián dance, a Gregorian sacred chant, the Mozart – Violin Concerto No.4, the melancholic sound of the Saxophone or of the klarinet whisper, a Gypsie music improvisation or Bach music played by Jazz men ?

If I was a dance, I would be a Tango invitation

Invitation 

Pavés humides,

Nos pas résonnent dans la ville.

La porte grince,

Echelle à escalader:

La vie apparait: Le salon de tango.

Tourbillon atemporel… 

dans l’anonymité grise.

Deséquilibres harmonieux.

Le dessous de mes pieds pétille… 

Mes jambes s’allongent à l’infini.

Et l’espace d’une seconde… je te suis.

***

If you were a sculpture, which one would you be?

Would you be a sculpture that can move?  Rodin’s thinker to remind you to focus? A Henry Moore sculpture? An earthy and solid tree form, or lines forming a free bird? Would you be the light and the shadow giving life to the sculpture, the structure of the material,  the softness of the alabaster? Would you be a pyramid?

If I was a sculpture, I would be an Archer of stone with a beating heart (HERAKLES, Temple of Athena Aphaia at Aegina)

L’archer

Façonné dans la Pierre ou bien simplement vivant? Ses doigts sont fins et présagent de douces caresses. Son corps est musclé et son visage presque juvénile. Troublée, je ne cesse de l’observer. Je redoute qu’il me surprenne et qu’il tourne ses yeux vers moi… sans même bouger la tête. L’archer est concentré sur une cible invisible, depuis des milliers d’années. Et pourtant, je sens qu’il y a sous la Pierre un cœur qui bat.

***

If you were a letter of the alphabet.

Would you be the X showing and choosing a direction like on a treasure map? The flexible Z or S free to fly away? The dark blue Q? The balance introvert and extrovert G or the small g? The graceful J? The happy R? The extendible I? The O without begin nor end and less perfect than a circle? Or the Ω open and firm?

If I was a letter of the alphabet, I would be the W

W

Oscillations parfaites.

Androgyne dans l’immobilité.

Harmonie des contraires.

***

If you were a flower, a plant or a tree, which one would you be?

I would be a flower, a Wild Iris. The Wild Iris (Iris Japonica) guarding the temple and its 9 red Torii doors.

Iris Sauvage

J’ai franchi la porte rouge qui mène à l’autre monde. Sur le chemin, j’ai traversé une autre porte, puis une autre et encore… Je m’enfonçais toujours plus profond dans ce santuaire intemporel. L’iris sauvage m’a appelé au bord du chemin. Je l’ai contemplé, plus belle que jamais. J’ai tendu mes doigts vers elle voulant l’éffleurer. Mais l’écho de sa voix m’a traversé pour me dire sa puissance immortelle et sa cruauté de vivre. Un ras de marée invisible m’a ramené sur le chemin.  J’en tremble encore.

***

If you were only two colors painted together, which two would you be?

Would you a combination with white: White&Blue, White&Yellow or Black&White? Would you be earth or sand tones? Would you be shades or blue or the royal Blue&Gold duo? The contrasting Orange-Turquoise or Pink-Turquoise? Or the complementary Red-Green colors?

If I was two colors, I would be Black and Turquoise. The color of the old man and its black stallion running on the white sand and plunging together in the turquoise of the refreshing Caribbean Sea.

Noir et Turquoise

Lumière saillante.

Eau Turquoise.

Le vieil homme créole,

Eau jusqu’au ventre,

Eau du creux de sa main rafraichit 

Le corps somptueux qui se dresse dans les vagues

De l’étalon noir…comme la nuit.

 ***

If you were marks in the sand, what would you be?

Would you be a circle? Or infinite drawn lines or a subtle line of 3km? Light bird footsteps or that from bigger animals? Would you be the trace of a tractor leaving a poetry behind? Or sand ribbons created by the wind? Or sand gathered at the feet of an herb tuft? Would you be an air bubbles shell hole? Would you be a heart with an arrow or stones gathered in the sand?

If I was marks in the sand, I would be bare feet footsteps disappearing in the sea.

Pas

Parce que les pas, dans le sable, s’éffacent avec la mer,

Tu ne pourras pas me suivre.

Je ne pourrais pas te suivre.

Ou bien, on marche ensemble.

 ***

If you were a chemical or an element, which would you be?

If I was a chemical, I would be the Vitriol of the alchemists. V.I.T.R.I.O.L vitriol stands for “Visita Interiora Terrae Rectificando Invenies Occultum Lapidem,” “Visit the interior of the earth and rectifying (purifying) you will find the hidden stone.”

Pierre

Vivre près du volcan sans ciller.

Imaginer une banquise rose mais sans sang.

Tourner sous l’eau et perdre ses repères,

Rajeunir à chaque instant,

Inventer la forme des dunes, 

Ouvrir son coeur au temps,

Libéré de ses pétales: le gemme trône et fait briller la lumière.

  ***

If you were a moment in the day, when would you be?

If I was a moment in the day, I would be the Dawn. The Dawn of the second day of summer, the dawn preceding the night celebration of St John around the blooming fire.

Aurore

Et si c’était la dernière fois que je devais voir l’aurore.

L’aurore jouant derrière la colline,  sa robe rose découpée par le roc.

Je cueillerais la rosée 

Et sentirais le dernier feu de la Saint Jean, à la clarté naissante.

Je marcherais et la terre résonnerait en moi tel un coeur qui bat.

Et si c’était… 

Et si c’était: la première fois.

***

Music or dance, sculpture, flower, plant or tree, two colors together, traces in the sand, chemical or elements and moments in the day. We all formulated with words our preferences, our internal world made of connections, memories, and stimuli.

We have seen how interesting and fun it is to start from the same point (if you were…) and get somewhere else (I would be).

If you were in the golden egg, what would you be?

At the Kunstgroep Wassenaar, we are doing this with art. Artists starting from the same point, taking the illuminated path of their interpretation and ending with an artwork. We start from the golden egg – the unformulated- and are ending to the self-portrait of our inner world.

The architect Max Boekholt and I imagine working together starting from the poetry “Aurore” as the golden egg. We are inviting all artists of the Kunstgroep and beyond to transform the words into music, dance, sculpture, sand sculpture, paintings, photography and more…

We will then gather the artwork into a new exhibition: from words to forms.

Hélène (facilitator of meaning)

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