About Robin

Occasional painter. Golfer. Fascinated by humanity. Passionate about beautiful stuff, the people who create it and its narrative.

Marcelo Jacome: colouring space with kites

I take a wrong turn in the cavernous premises at 43 route des Jeunes, Geneva. The team from Espace_L are discussing their huge white walls in rapid Portuguese. They are amused that I ask to look around an empty space. They offer me a glass of wine. I find a young man untangling the fine strings of hundreds of paper kites.

Marcelo Jacome 1

I learn that Marcelo Jacome’s “Pipos planos” (kites) has recently caused a sensation at Saatchi Gallery‘s exhibition “Paper.” I have the good fortune to stumble across him installing his masterpiece here. This is serendipity indeed. And…. My! Oh! My! Take a look at what Saatchi found!

Marcelo Jacome 2

My first impression is of weightless, delicate butterflies driven en masse along a migratory route by some primordial urge. But then there is something human, dynamic and temporary about the chaotic shapes and hues: the tents at a massive rock festival maybe? Whatever, it fills space with colour and lifts the spirits. I am thrilled that I can see this work and others for real at the opening at Espace-L on 17 September.

Marcelo interrupts his work for a chat. This charming thirty-three year-old Brazilian architect took up painting eight years ago. His large studio led him to move from two to three dimensions and to explore what he terms “the chromatic mass of urban spaces.” He is animated in describing his journey. His influences? Henri Matisse and Arturo Bispo do Rosario. His music? Jazz! The best part of his international career? Meeting people! The worst part of his international career? Meeting more people! Who’s going to win the next world cup? Marcelo puts his head in his hands. “I hate football!” This is a very unusual Brazilian! I leave him to work out how he’s going to complete his installation.

Marcelo Jacome 3

Boa sorte, Marcelo!

The adolescent tragedies of Heinz Schwarz

Swiss sculptor Heinz Schwarz (1920 -1994) was a genius. “Genius” is a big word, I know. It is the anatomist in me that is filled with admiration for his rendering of the human form. But there is more: much more. His works are true-to-life, poignant and smooth. They tell stories. Geneva is fortunate to be home to two of his most well-known statues: both touchingly evoke adolescence but speak also of tragedy and loss.

Heinz Schwarz 1

L’adolescent et le cheval, 1976.

There is a story in these parts of a young boy who, many years ago, was swimming on the lake edge with his horse. The boy drowned. Schwarz made this tragedy the theme of this huge work. The distress of the horse is evident. But how does Schwarz denote the boy’s tragic end? The beautiful solution he found can only be seen from a particular angle as you come down Avenue de France towards the lake. In the last moment of his life, the sinking boy’s desperate hand reaches up from the waves of the horses back. Genius!

Heinz Schwarz 2

View from Avenue de France.

From the lake edge, take yourself up to Place Bourg de Four in the old town. Prepare to have your heart-strings pulled!

Heinz Schwarz 3

Clementine, 1974.

Schwarz’s “Clementine” is much more than an exquisite statue. She is a symbol of solidarity for women and girls – especially those forced into prostitution – all over the world: the reason why there are often floral tributes strewn at her feet. Clementine is overpoweringly sad and beautiful in her budding adolescence. She is unspeakably delicate and stands fully and unashamedly naked.  She is quiet but her vulnerability screams out. You can only weep for her innocence that has been or is soon to be brutalised. And Schwarz has evoked all this in bronze! Genius!

I have to wait to take my photograph because an obese man  – to the amusement of his tourist friends – drapes an arm around Clementine’s shoulder and fingers her right breast. Digital shutters click amid giggles. My disgust wells inside. Clementine doesn’t flinch. She’s seen and felt it all before.

Heinz Schwarz 4

Gondebaud by Roger Ferrier, 1957.

But there is hope. Clementine has a guardian high on a wall nearby. King Gondebaud “des Burgondes” (480-516) looks like such a nice old guy. He watches over her. He may just unleash reasoned violence with that sword if one more person violates her adolescence.

Heinz Schwarz’s sculptures were sponsored by Ville de Geneve, Fonds d’art contemporain.

Be surprised at the Ariana Museum!

Ariana 1

The Ariana Museum is a sumptuous, impressive structure set back from Avenue de la Paix in Geneva. It was built in 1884 by Gustave Riviliod to house his private collection of objets d’art. He named it after his mother, Ariane de la Rive. It’s formal title now is the Swiss Museum of Ceramics and Glass. From the outside, you would be forgiven for thinking it is some sort of presidential palace (except that Switzerland has no President!). The interior does not disappoint; its polished marbled arches and smooth granite columns are imposing. It is quiet and cool. Entrance to the permanent collection is free. The staff are very polite.

If I am honest, a whole museum dedicated to glass and ceramics has never really “floated my boat” as the Americans would say. But one thing takes me back there regularly: its permanent collection contains a marble bust that is the most beautiful sculpture in existence. There, I’ve said it! And when you go and see it – as you should – you will agree. She lives. If you watch her for long enough, her eyes open for a quick peak at you! And just imagine… this was chipped out of a rock! Luigi! Hat off to you!

Ariana 2

“Femme voilée” (Veiled woman) by Luigi Guglielmi (1834-1907).

The other work I love is right next to the main entrance. It is elemental, elegant, delicate and kinetic but, at the same time, solid in a weighty, glass-and-steel kind of way.

Ariana 3

“Pagan Remembrance” (2008) by Philip Baldwin and Monika Guggisberg.

I go to the Ariana every couple of months or so for a rendez-vous with my veiled lady. I play with the idea of inviting her to lunch at the discrete little restaurant on the first floor. So I cannot really claim that I was going to see the current temporary exhibition: “8 artists & clay.” I decided to have a look. This luscious collection of contemporary ceramics was a total surprise. And it floats my boat! It’s a must see. The extensive basement is dedicated to the work of Claude Champy, Bernard Dejonghe, Philippe Godderidge, Michel Muraour, Setsuko Nagasawa, Daniel Pontoreau and Camille Virot. I am intrigued by their imagination. Their arresting and provocative pieces are generously and very tastefully exhibited. It is calming to wander around them and to soak up the warm colours. The voice of temptation says “Go on, Robin! Nobody will see if you run your hand over those delicious textures!”

Ariana 4

In the foreground is Philippe Godderidge’s “Demeures” (2013). The space behind is dedicated to a number of works by Michel Muraour.

Ariana 5

The space given over to Bernard Dejonghe features his five black enamalled wall-pieces of “Areshima”(2008).

Ariana 6

A mixture of porcelain and orange clay “Sculptures” (2008-2012) by Setsuko Nagasawa.

Upstairs and taking pride of place in this exhibition, is a large collection of the late Jacqueline Lerat’s work. It is an acknowledgement of her revolutionary contribution to modern ceramics. The pieces are warm and earthy but with unexpected little flashes of colour. They have a comfortable appeal as though they would really be happier in people’s homes. I want to pick them up and feel their weightness. (A polite man wearing a white shirt, a dark tie and a radio watches me carefully as I photograph them.)

Ariana 7

Sculpture au cercle blanc (1990) & Sculpture et végétaux (1985).

Ariana 8

Femme assise au grand chapeau (1962).

Ariana 9

Trois pousses verte et un pied rose (2003).

And there’s more… If you want a moment of reflection on leaving the Ariana, you can find a wonderful bronze of Mahatma Ghandi only fifty metres from the front door. It is a gift from the Republic of India to Geneva. Around its base, the grass is worn away by the countless people who stop, reflect and take photos. Perhaps they hope he will briefly lift his eyes from his reading?

Ariana 10

“Mahatma Ghandi: My life is my message” by Gautam Pal (2007).

If contemporary ceramics floats your boat, then paddle your way down to the Ariana. You’re in for a quite some surprise. The “8 artists & clay” exhibition closes on 8 September but the veiled woman will still be there.