The 2015 Geneva International Motor Show and Bentley’s work in progress

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Cars are not really my thing. In nearly twenty years of living in Switzerland, I have never been to the Geneva International Motor Show. Well….. it’s my first week of retirement and, by chance, I receive a complimentary ticket. Feeling not terribly automotive, I hop on a crowded number 5 bus to Palexpo.

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First observation: I never knew this show happens on such an enormous scale. Thousands upon thousands of car enthusiasts gather around hundreds and hundreds of next year’s models. Second observation: this is fun! As far as the eye can see, there is sumptuous, extravagant, shiney and very beautiful stuff. Third observation: when it comes to design and function, nothing can match the automobile industry. These lustrous vehicles generate fantasy; they ooze influence, chic life-styles, seduction, virility and power. I love it! I move with the crowd. I listen to the comments. I follow their interest. I join the buzz as much as I can. And I find lots and lots of beautiful stuff to photograph and to talk about here.

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Just look at the sleek lines of the new Nissan S Way. What really catches my eye is the addition of warm tones with the bronze highlights. Without them, the whole would appear cold. Who does this appeal to? A sporty-chic young lady? A young man in the pre-ferrari stage of his petro-development?

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This is the interior of the GEA G Giugiaro. Anonymity, masculinity and comfort. If you want to go for something at the top-end of the chauffeur-driven range, here it is. Well, that’s what I think until I come across…..

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…. the RR stand. O… M… G…!! Would you really take this to the shops? Or to the beach? I adore those little peek-a-boo curtains!

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Fourth observation: a recurrent feature of the show is that the most exclusive cars are surrounded by modest little glass barriers. I think they are to prevent people like me from getting too close. But I did sneak up to snap the superb front wing of the new Quantino. Another recurrent feature is how people patiently queue to pass through those little barriers for the privilege of sitting in the sort of vehicle that I’ve only ever associated with James Bond or the Pink Panther. I couldn’t help noticing that most are men. Most are beyond their first week of retirement. Many need a little bit of help from the amiable hosts and hostesses to get in and out of their would-be purchases.

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Talking of men, cars, hosts and especially hostesses, I fully expected to find the displays draped about with slinkily-clad super models. That seems to be a thing of the past except of course for Pirelli. The calender-happy Italians simply laugh in the face of political correctness. But then what is politically correct may not be biologically correct. Images of beautiful women sell things. Even tyres!

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I come across the Bentley stand. It is difficult to get close to the little barrier such is the excitement . “Magnifique!” the admirers gasp.

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What has drawn the crowd, revolving slowly on her display, is the most elegant car of the whole show. She purrs British Racing Green.  She soaks up the attention.

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This is the new Bentley…. but I find no sign indicating model or series. I ask a helpful young man sporting a Bentley lapel pin for specifications. “That, Sir, is a Speed 6. It’s a car in its design stage. It may not be out for another five or six years. It’s just a concept for the moment.” I’m stunned. The most beautiful car here today is not yet a car! “You mean it’s kind of work in progress?” I ask him. “You could say that, Sir. Yes.” This is so cool! I ask if I could sit inside it for a moment. He smiles politely, “I regret, Sir, that is not possible.”

The knives of Blackbird Valley

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The knife is perfectly balanced in my hand. It reminds of a scalpel: the healing steel. The honed blade glows dully. The handle is the fine antler of a one-year old stag. I want to use this knife but for a delicate task. It is made by Ross Johnston, master knife-maker, at his Blackbird Valley forge near Nelson, New Zealand.

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Nelson – at the top of the South Island – was originally a small town serving an agricultural community. The climate is fabulous. The area is now a beach destination and the surrounding sheep farms are largely replaced by vineyards, olive groves and orchards. Many creative spirits have made this area their home; there are numerous galleries and studios all brimming with beautiful stuff. It is probably most famous as the birth place of the World of WearableArt.

But today, I am looking for something more earthy; some uncut gemstone of kiwi beautiful stuff. A friend tells me I should meet Ross at his forge. This former steeple-jack and deep sea diver has been making knives from recycled steel for forty years. His knives are his life and his passion. He is a big man with a big smile and big hands and a big handshake. He is one big good old kiwi bloke! He gives me a big welcome. His knife shop is faced with sections of massive bandsaw-blades from local timber mills. Next to the door is the rib of a whale and a ceramic party-dress made by a friend. (So Nelson!) But before I see the display of finished knives, I want to see the forge: the first lines in the narrative of the knives of Blackbird Valley.

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The forge is everything I expect from a one-man outfit working steel: functional, untidy and honest. I am immediately drawn to what is simply scattered on the ground in front. I walk over fragments of old circular saw-blades, cut-up bandsaw-blades and vehicle springs. It is difficult to believe these can be transformed into beautiful glistening knives. Also strewn around are deer antlers from trophy stags for the knife handles. This is the uncut raw material of Ross’s beautiful stuff.

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Ross displays his knives on a deer-skin. He recites the provenance of each blade whether Honda leaf-spring, circular saw-blade or part of a 19th century carriage spring found when digging in his garden. Ross is familiar with the properties and apperance – raw and worked – of each.

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He shows me a huge Bowie-style knife. Not really my thing. But I pick it up. It also has a pleasing weight and feel. It begs to be used. I wonder if I might just be ready for a discussion with Croc Dundee. What I love about it is that the blade is made from a huge wood rasp; this gives it a unique, scaley and rather sinister look.

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I then spy a knife that Ross has put aside assuming that I would not be interested. It is a simple flat file fashioned into an exquisite kitchen knife. The handle part has been made by cleverly twisting the file around itself so as to produce a perfect fit for my hand. It speaks to me. I fall for it and buy it. I feel its edge and see it slicing through the skin of a ripe tomato.

The knives of Blackbird Valley raise the whole question of aesthetics and function and the aesthetics of function. These are beautifully crafted objects without doubt; but the perception of beauty comes from picking them up, turning them in one’s hand and imagining their use. They become beautiful objects when looked at in terms of their potential function.

The Blackbird Valley forge is worth a visit. It’s real-deal kiwi. And… you’ll find a knife that speaks to you!

Fear and loathing in…… Switzerland!

As I write this blog post a United States health official announces another ebola case in Texas. Fear. There is the first talk of a flight lock-down to and from West Africa. President Barack Obama says the risk of an outbreak of ebola in the United States is “extremely low.”

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I hear there is an outdoor exhibition in Plainpalais organised by Geneva city council. It documents how the foreigner – read: immigrant, legal or illegal – has been depicted in Swiss political posters. It distracts me from this morning’s gloomy news. I am welcomed by a clever image playing on the Swiss flag and inequality. The posters dating back to the 1920s are both fascinating and alarming. I come to understand that a section of the Swiss political community consistently cultivates fear of the other with ingenious design concepts. This article is about the posters and how I see them as vehicles for political messages. As a general rule, I try not to express my own political views (even though I find some of the posters offensive!)

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The principal means of depicting unwelcome foreigners is by indicating their darker skin. According to this 2007 poster, the worst case is that they might en masse gain Swiss citizenship. The designer here has created a notion of multi-racial greedy-grabbing of those all-too-accessible Swiss passports. The darkest hand is particularly clawing.

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The same politicians really do not want others – especially if the others are muslims – bringing their culture to Switzerland. In 2009, the “Minarets debate” swirled about the limits of multiculturism. A black burqua-ed woman is clearly associated here with those black threatening minaret – missiles awaiting for their deadly countdown. The whole resonates with daily news of fundamental islamic terrorism.

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In most countries, displaying this 2007 poster would most likely end in a prison sentence. It is more than controversial. Kindly and innocent white sheep kick a black sheep out of Switzerland with a view to ensuring Swiss people more security. The furrowed brow of the black sheep indicates not surprise but his intent to get back in.

Fear generates loathing. Haven’t these people heard of Allport’s scale? Gordon Allport was an American psychologist who in the 1950s wrote about the nature of prejudice. He described a five step scale of prejudicial behaviour. At step one is “antilocution” – saying bad things to or about people of a minority. At step five on this scale is killing these same people. Come to think of it, maybe they have heard of Allport’s scale! This is just too awful to consider.

Let me emphasise that racial discrimination is not alive and well in Switzerland. The political parties responsible for the posters above are hotly opposed by the majority.

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This 2004 anti-discrimination poster is also included in the exhibition. It is effective probably because, in my mind, it is so cute. I love its United Colours of Bennetton recall. The babies are looking up to a united brighter future for their generation in the arms of a soft and cuddly nanny Switzerland.

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The issue is not new as shown by this poster from 1922. I can’t help being amused by image of the six steroetypical foreigners crossing the border into Basel where gold coin is lavished upon them. A multi-tasking black cat hisses at them and rings a warning bell. In parallel, Swiss people – presumably working in Germany just over the border – are kicked out of their homes.

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A poster from 1974 warns Swiss citizens that their nice stable economic pyramid should not be supported by “invited” labour. The immigrant labourer remains “invited” as long as he can be marked out by dark skin and thick mustache.

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In 1983 those hoping to induce fear of the foreigner show cute traditional little old Switzerland about to be mugged at home by a black – note the skin – youth – note the trainer with frayed lace. The poster also implies that attempting to keep foreigners out is a hopeless task! Any viewer who disaproves or disagrees of the poster is clearly one of the ambivalent grey citizens in the background.

I can’t help reflecting on the unlikely juxtaposition of messages I receive from the news and from these posters. The President of the United States – with darker skin – calms fears about the spread of the loathsome ebola virus. The City of Geneva reminds us that some Swiss politicians clearly aim to stoke fear – and loathing – about people with darker skin. Thanks, Geneva! I know which I fear most!