Fame and fortune in Vevey, Switzerland

Vevey 1

It’s said that, after Mickey Mouse, Charlie Chaplin‘s tramp is the world’s most recognisable character…… ever. I think it’s true; the little black and white figure with bowler hat, tiny moustache, tail coat and cane is everywhere in Asia and Africa. I guess this is because his fame came from the era of silent film; language wasn’t necessary to generate wide appeal.

Chaplin was barred from America in 1951 because the FBI believed he was communist. Vevey in Switzerland became domicile for him and his family. If you know where to look, you can even find his grave. It is something of a paradox that a statue in the memory of someone who identified with and highlighted the plight of the poor and oppressed can be found on the shores of Lac Leman in Vevey, Switzerland; just about the wealthiest little town in Europe.

Vevey 2

This is a much loved statue. The shabby-comic-sad air is captured. If it moved, there is no doubt the walk would be immediately recognisable. Note the left arm and shoulder burnished by thousands of hands; everyone wants their photo taken arm-in-arm with “Charlo.” Holding the flower-girl’s rose to his heart, he looks out onto the calm waters of the lake. Something seems to have caught his eye. Maybe he is reflecting on why Vevey is so wealthy?

Vevey 3

A massive eight metre stainless steel fork is embedded in the water’s surface. It is pristine, clean and intriguing. It is arresting for sure. This is the work of Jean-Pierre Zaugg. It is the lakeside showpiece of the Alimentarium; a food-discovery museum steeped in the history of one of Switzerland’s best known – and Vevey based – multinational corporations: Nestlé. I look at the fork. I take a photo or two. And yet, my enduring fascination with Chaplin’s genius inevitably draws my thoughts away from a celebration of food to the spaghetti scene in Chaplin’s “City Lights.”

Big luggage people at Amsterdam airport

I am in transit at Amsterdam’s Schipol airport. Everyone is in a controlled rush. Irritated travellers swerve around me when I stop to take a photo of two huge figures that sit in the middle of the walkway. Before I too move on, I feel the surface of a massive bronze shoulder; it is cold and assertive. I tap my knuckle against it and am rewarded with a satisfying note, deep and rich.

Big luggage people

Tom Claassen “Two incredible sitting black snowmen” Bronze 2000

I have seen Tom Claassen‘s “Two incredible sitting black snowmen” before. I wasn’t wowed. However, finding them here really grabs my attention and flicks the mental switch on a little bit of neuronal circuitry that tells me “This is beautiful stuff!” I guess it’s about context.

Claassen’s figures look like two tired people. Their sitting pose is weighty but anatomic nevertheless. I am reminded of a couple of breathless fat kids after PE. At the same time, with their seams and soft corners, they represent battered baggage waiting to be collected. The in-context appeal comes from the fact that they represent us, how we feel and what we take with us when we travel. Passengers and luggage, as far as airlines and airports are concerned, are commodities that have to be moved around efficiently. Inevitably, our air travel experience involves total depersonalisation. So, just look at the lack of any human expression on the faces of our bronze friends!

Another subliminal bobs to the surface. It’s the fat kid thing combined with the resemblance to couches upon which we sit and watch television. The western world is currently gripped by an epidemic of obesity. Hence, these figures are totally contemporary in their placement at Schipol. With a kind of tired ambivalence we just accept the  inconvenience and discomfort of air travel as we expect convenient access to comfort food.

No surprise that, given the chance, I would rename Claassen’s masterpiece “Big luggage people.” Bravo team Classens – Schipol!

The river blindness sculpture at the World Health Organisation

River blindness 1

I am at entrance of the World Health Organisation. People of all nationalities hurry by with laptops and bulging files. There is a sculpture that I too have hurried by over the years. Today, I have time to take a closer look.

When it comes to depicting the human form, what makes the difference between a good sculpture and a great sculpture is what one sees in the eyes. The eyes are, after all, that part of another person at which we look most intently. What I see here is a man and a boy. Both are clearly African. The man’s eyes are clouded over; dead. The boy sees clearly but his expression is that of determined resignation to his lot.

River blindness 2

A son leads his blind father with the aid of a stick. They are both caught in grinding poverty. The sculpture marks the near-elimination of the parasite causing river blindness (Onchocerciasis) in eleven West African countries through the Onchocerciasis Control Programme. There is an element of hope for the generation who might, thanks to the combined efforts of multiple agencies guided by the WHO, be free of this terrible disease. This noble institution gets a political bashing on many fronts but it is well to remember its successes. And these successes are brought about by committed people who hurry by with laptops and bulging files. All that said, this commemorative work is technically accomplished, full of narrative and eye-smartingly poignant. I should have stopped and taken all this in before.

It is a clear bright spring day. I take my time snapping a few photos. I look for the little plaque that gives the name of the master sculptor responsible for this beautiful stuff. There is no plaque. There is no recognition of the genius who made it. Does anyone know whose work this is?