by Doug Schatz, http://www.dougschatz.com
Recently, I took a trip to St. Urban, Switzerland where I took part in a group show of fellow American sculptors in an outdoor sculpture show curated by the sculptor John Henry at Art St. Urban, an artist residence program and outdoor sculpture center.
First, I should say that the setting for this show was hardly believable in it’s beauty and mystique. The surrounding countryside was absolutely stunning with the Alps in the distance and lush green fields of corn surrounding the charming little town.
The weather was a bit cloudy, so we did not see the high peaks of the mountains, but the view was great none-the-less. I rode into St. Urban on the train from Zurich, so I was able to see a lot of the landscape—there is an interesting mix of old castles and nuclear power plants on the route I took. I am not much of a world traveler, so I was fascinated by the fact that my passport was not stamped and I was asked absolutely no questions when I arrived at the airport (though this would prove to be quite a problem two weeks later when I was traveling with a rock band to Prague and had no proof that I ever entered the EU. I did eventually make it into the Czech Republic, but only after I had shown the border guard my SUNY Potsdam business card and he did a Blackle search on me (totally not kidding) Who said business cards were a waste of time? I just thought it was funny that they weren’t buying the passport, but an inkjet card somehow made me legit). In general, I found the contrast between the Swiss and the U.S. attitudes at customs so remarkable, though it really just made me sad and nostalgic for the days when travel was elegant and everyone was not as paranoid.
Anyhoo, back to the art show…
St. Urban is a small (very small) town with a 700 year old church, a cloister, and a mental hospital. The mental hospital had several pavilions or buildings as well as a couple of former buildings that were
no longer used for patients. Pavilion E housed the art galleries and living space for artists in residence and was also the site of the reception for the outdoor show. I stayed at the artist in residence pavilion in room E211, one of the former patient rooms, for the duration of my stay. I never thought I would ever stay in a mental institution, but I suppose I was quite relaxed and felt great once I was able to leave…
Art St. Urban was founded and is managed by Gertrud Kohler-Aeschlimann and her husband (the sculptor and entrepreneur) Heinz Aeschlimann. They have done an amazing job rehabbing the old hospital and renovating the galleries inside.
The building itself has an old-world feel to it until you step inside and see that the interior has been completely redone with a very contemporary feel. The floors have been ‘paved’ , so to speak, with an asphalt mixture invented by Heinz Aeschlimann and the rest of the interior has been made to look like a white walled type gallery space. However, many of the interior spaces have been left as they were originally laid out such as the solitary confinement boxes and a few individual rooms. The feeling of the gallery was very interesting in that there were many separate little galleries and small niches where art is displayed.
I spent a lot of time walking around by myself on the first day of my trip. I was able so see the sculpture park without being distracted (which is often the best way for me to look at art). The sculptures, including mine, had been shipped and installed earlier in the summer by
Solitary Confinement Rooms
and his crew.
My sculpture was well situated on the grounds between
Albert Paley’s sculpture and
Isaac Duncan’s. I thought the placement of all the sculptures was very well done and of course the grounds were very well maintained so the park looked great. There was a good mix of mowed grass and taller vegetation that kept the viewer focused on the artwork while at the same time leading the viewer around the grounds in a nice way.
My sculpture is open in the middle and the viewer is able to go in and among the steel pieces that make up the artwork. When I went to see my piece up close, I found in the middle of the sculpture a tiny stacked rock sculpture less than a foot high made of loose round rocks. My guess is that the area was heavily glaciered in the past, so many of the rocks in the town had a rounded/ weathered look to them. These rocks were stacked very
well and obviously very carefully. I found out later that one of the current mental patients had taken a liking to my sculpture and had brought the rocks and stacked them up on the inside. This was another very interesting phenomenon about the town—there were quite a number of crazy people walking around unattended. The difference in attitude was once again underscored here quite dramatically. I don’t see that happening much in the U.S. without walls and attendants, etc. It was freaky, but quite charming. Understand also, that as I was being told this, there was general nervousness about how I might react to such a thing. I could tell that people were nervous that I might be offended or insulted that my sculpture had been accosted in this way. Personally, I loved it. My whole attitude about sculpture is that it is meant to be touched (regardless of what you might have heard at the Seattle conference on public art) and that because it is in our physical space, it must be related to in a physical way. I was actually quite thrilled that a patient had responded enough to my sculpture that he felt compelled to act in such a way--It was really very sweet.
There was a pre-opening dinner in the cloister on the day before the actual opening. Several of the artists in the show came into town that day, so it was great to have a chance to interact with them and our hosts in such a nice setting.
Dennis Oppenheim’s sculpture
Dinner was prepared by the church caterers who put on many functions related to the church during the year and therefore, the food was excellent. In attendance were
Terry Karpowicz, Isaac Duncan, Gabbi Poehlmann, John and Pamela Henry, Albert and
Francis Paley, Verina
Baxter, Gertrud, and other guests. The diner was held in the ancient dining hall of the former Abbey of the church, so there were rich relief carvings on the doors and panels and very old paintings on the walls. I was fascinated by all the ancient maps, though I could not read them (I think they were mostly local or regional maps from a very long time ago).
The building itself was stunning and seemed to hold many secrets—the church itself is said to have a magical spot in the chapel that you can stand under and feel a certain kind of power. In fact, the water of the town is legendary for this certain power as well. I actually went to the spot in the cathedral and sat for a while to try to feel the presence, but I didn’t feel much but a sore back from the hard wooden chair....I must admit, though, that I did feel calm and relaxed from my time in the church, so maybe there is something to the legend…
The opening itself was very grand and stylish—much more formal and intense than openings in the U.S. that I am used to. The events started at 5:00 pm, which is earlier than many openings, but there was the issue of the disappearing daylight and the full program as well, so things got started early. It was a beautiful sunny day, though a bit chilly.
I had forgotten to pack dress shoes for the occasion, so my feet got a bit cold when the sun disappeared behind the clouds because all I had to wear were my sandals. It turns out though, that the sandals were cool because the Swiss are very sporty and were impressed with my casual but hip ‘choice’ in footwear. One local woman told me that the Swiss always look at your shoes to tell what kind of sports you do. This may be true, but then again, many women look at your shoes, so I didn’t think this was groundbreaking news. Besides, she was originally from Austria so I wonder if she was just stereotyping her adopted country-folk. There was food and wine, of course, and many speeches. These took a while because they were spoken in German and English, so
really there was double the amount of talking.
It is interesting to have someone talk about your and your work, but not have any idea what they are saying.
Chakaia Booker’s sculpture
I can attest to the English part of the program and I came away from it thinking how eloquent and thoughtful these people were about contemporary sculpture in the midst of such an old and historical place. It was quite profound to think about the juxtaposition of the rich history of the area and the recently completed works of art as they stood side by side. Perhaps none more than
Chakaia Booker’s tire sculpture set right next to the venerable cloister - it really makes me wonder which will be around longer, the tires or the building.
A full marching band was on hand to celebrate the sculptors - apparently it is common for many of the villages or towns to have a town band for just these sort of events. Another local person told me that I should make sure to get some food before that band finishes, because once they do, the food would be gone…
Intertwined with the speeches were traditional musical interludes by alpenhorn players and by yodelers (separately, not at the same time). These were very cool, I have never heard the horns in person before, just on t.v. in bad U.S. commercials. The sound was rich and vibrant, much higher in pitch and range than I expected. The yodelers had, to accompany them, an elderly accordion player who looked incredibly happy to be there and to be performing.
It was a great part of the event and not at all hokey like you might think. After the interludes and the speeches, the marching band led the spectators (about 200
people) around the park to each sculpture and the sculptors who were there presented their pieces and described a little of what the piece was about.
Not all of the sculptors made it to the opening, so for those that did
not, John Henry gave a brief overview of each sculptor that was not represented in person. It was really interesting to hear each sculptor talk about their work in the first hand, first person. Usually an artists talks about their work with a slide as a backdrop, not the actual sculpture, so it was exciting to be on hand and experience the physicality of the pieces with the artist themselves.
After, there was a reception in the art pavilion where food was served (I did get there before the band, luckily) and an after party of sorts with time to talk to people and to listen to music (there was a great piano player for the reception part of the event).
In all, the experience was amazing for me to be a part of and the witness. I feel like we made a good contribution to the art scene in Europe and that John Henry’s choices for the show were well picked and beautifully installed.
Doug Schatz
http://www.dougschatz.com
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