The blue lotus 4 by martin bradley

Lotus

Issue 4 Autumn 2016

The Blue

Arts Magazine

Under the Olive Bough Journeys in Catalonia and Lombardy

Alessio Schiavo Honey Khor Joan vehí Lluís Roura Salvador Dalí 1

“If life is less than one day’s passing sigh within eternity, and if the year too soon revolved, may never reappear, if, helpless, all things here on earth soon die, what do you dream about, caged soul, and why this trouble take when darkness hovers near? Although your dreams sing on to regions clear, you seem a soul in pain whose wings can’t fly. Seek there the Good above, beyond the sky, there the rest which to each man lends cheer, there is Love, there pleasure, thither steer, there, my soul, is heaven found, on high. There you shall realize that rare rapport with Beauty which in this world I adore... ” Joachim De Bellay L’olive

welcome to

Lotus The Blue

Arts Magazine

Autumn 2016

inside.... 6 Editorial Thoughts on the current issue

by the Founding Editor

10 Gallarate Lombardy 24 MA*GA Contemporary Art Museum Gallarate

30 Urban Mining Exhibition

36 Alessio Schiavo 30 Silent Tales

48 Doppia Vu Italian Leather Craft

54 Castiglione Olona Italyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Gem

64 Honey in Italy Malaysian artist Honey Khorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s exhibitions

94 Art Talk Castiglione Olona 94 Joan Vehí In Conversation 108 Lluís Roura Catalan Painter

122 Honey & Hotel Durán Honey Khor discovering Catalonia

128 Dalí and Durán Charting a friendship

146 Tapas Sampling this year’s Tastets Surrealists

The Blue Lotus Arts Magazine Summer 2016 Editor: Martin A Bradley

email: martinabradley@gmail.com TBL TM Published June 2016 cover: Freedom by Eric Choong

The Blue Lotus Arts Magazine is an entirely free and non-associated publication concerned with bringing Asia to the world, and the world to Asia

Lotus The Blue

Arts Magazine

Welcome to the European issue of

The Blue Lotus Arts Magazine.

For this issue we swing our gaze from Asia to Europe. To Italy and Spain, and to be precise to Spain’s Catalonia and Italy’s Lombardy regions. We look at exhibitions and museums in Gallarate and Castiglione Olona (Italy), and talk with an artist, photographer and an hotelier in Cadaqués, Figueres and L’Escala (Spain). We investigate the legend of Salvador Dalí and the people who knew him. As the two countries mentioned are renown for their exquisite food, we cannot but help mention that too. The Blue Lotus is a platform for international cooperation, aiming to bring creative Asia to the world, and the creative world to Asia. Now read on

Martin Bradley (Founding Editor).

Lom

lingering in

mbardy

Gallarate “fruitful Lombardy, the pleasant garden of great Italy”, Lucentio (in Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew)

Lombardy is the northernmost region of Italy. Milan, its capital, can lay claim to both the Duomo di Milano cathedral and the Santa Maria delle Grazie convent, housing Leonardo da Vinci’s fresco ‘The Last Supper’. It can also lay claim to the historical ‘loan’ of Britain’s footballer David Beckham OBE (2008) to AC Milan. Since the 1970s, and with the aid of Elio Fiorucci, Milan has become home to the fashion world, having its first fashion week in 1979 and, in 2009, becoming the ‘fashion capital of the world’.. With borders to Switzerland, Lombardy is the fourth largest region in Italy. It has some of Europe’s most attractive lakes (Como, Garda, Iseo, Lugano, Maggiore, Varese etc) and an almost magnetic attraction to artists, writers and poets like Lord Byron. From Renaissance painters Caravaggio and Leonardo, to novelist Alessandro Manzoni and composer Giuseppe Verdi, Lombardy has creativity in its very air. We (Malaysian artist Honey Khor and I) were delighted to be invited to Lombardy to teach art, and to exhibit Honey’s artworks in one of Lombardy’s small towns in southern Europe.

Valdobbiadene Prosecco Superiore DOCG

Church of Santa Maria Assunta, Gallarate

Osteria Il Mercanto

I had awoken in the terraced house we call home at five-thirty in the Malaysian morning. Birds were yet to be awakened. Stars struggled to twinkle amidst the urban light pollution of the city, as we hastened to the airport and eventually flew towards the West. Time stretched before us. The international dateline kindly returned enough hours to allow us to leave and arrive on the same day. A seven hour flight. Three hours transit in the modern shopping miracle which is Dubai airport. Seven hours to Milan, and we finally arrived at eight thirty in the evening, local Milanese time. Renowned Italian artist/architect Alessio Schiavo escorted us, our copious bags and boxes of paintings, to the ancient town of Gallarate, founded by Gauls and conquered by Romans. There, at Michele Raccioâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s 18th century Osteria Il Mercanto, we were presented with a platter of mixed Italian hams and local cheeses, fit for a Caesar. Michele, chef, barman and all round good fellow, was a bearded bear of a man, full of south Italian good humour and a very large twinkle in his eye. His partner, and wife, Rosa (previously from Benevento, Italy) was full of

Ever fresh fruits and vegetables at the Osteria

blonde good cheer and ever the helpful businesswoman. It was no wonder that the B&B and Osteria has grown, thrived, since they bought it as a dilapidated courtyard, in 2000. After what could only have been supper, our host led us to the rear of the Osteria to his Postporta B&B (Gallarate). We trundled past intriguing Piaggio Vespas and Innocenti Lambrettas (perhaps once heroes of Fellini or Milanese romantic films starring Rossano Brazzi or Sophia Loren) as Michele guided us through his typical rustic Lombard courtyard,. We were tired. Yet still we noticed the draped, sumptuously pink bougainvillea, leafy vines, ivy and the maturing olive tree flavouring that courtyard with their beauty. We climbed a number of chiselled stone stairs up to the wooden door, which opened to our split-level suite. I fairly gasped at the splendour. That luxurious suite was enswathed with local antiques. A romantic, iron, four-poster bed promised more than sleep, but not that night. Horse saddles, a dark wood table and dining chairs promised romance and maybe a little writing work. Despite the suite's beauteous glamour we were tired from our journey, and only wanted a good night's rest. We slept. 13

Our first Lombardian night had passed in relative luxury. The bed was a dream. Though rested, it was difficult to raise and get on with our first day. I had looked around. It was Tuesday morning. A day of relaxation after a full day's flight lay ahead. Daylight, which had presented between 5am and 6am, had revealed grey clouds becoming greyer, eventually

shedding fine European rain. I really didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t mind. If fact I had wanted just such a climate. I wanted to be free of the, at times, unbearably stifling heat of South East Asia. There in Lombardy, in Gallarate, I had began to feel free. There was an almost Alpine climb down antique stone stairs from out suite. Each day we would mooch through the aisle left by the tables and chairs of the previous nightâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s merry Osteria. That first day there were

Cornetti the Italian version of French croissants

Sketch by Honey Khor

Sketch by H

Honey Khor

two large glass vases brimming with pale pink and white lilies. They had their stamens still intact and perfumed the Lombardy air with their sweet scent. Michele and Rosa could not have known, but lilies are our favourite flowers, mainly because of their scent. Over time, when not boasting lilies or peonies, those vases and accompanying cornucopia, presented the beauteous fragrance of ripening vine tomatoes, or lemons, or aubergines, stunningly colourful, exciting, enticing. The breakfast area revealed a smiling and attentive Michele, a selection of cornetti (the Italian version of French croissants) harbouring custard, chocolate or Nutella, and others left unfilled (vuoto). There were waxed cartons full of various fruit juices and, upon asking, Michele brought those miniature cups of coffee we call expresso, but Italians call caffè. Throughout our stay I longed for a good mug of coffee, but the Italians don't do that. Even cappuccino was served in unsatisfying half cups, only slightly larger than those holding ‘caffè’. It seemed that Italians like their coffee in short measure, and very strong. As each morning presented itself, different pastries began to accompany the ever present cornetti. One day it was the Italian folded (Danish) pastries, another day - custard Cartocci (tubes of sugary pastry filled with uniquely stiff and sweet Italian custard). It was an intriguing introduction to north Italian dolce (sweet) cuisine, but a tad tiresome after so many days. I began to miss the south Indian breakfasts of Malaysia. The masala dosa, vadai and idlis, or the simple half-boiled eggs of Chinese descent, accompanied by toast with coconut jam (kaya) or, dare I say, nasi lemak (rice cooked in coconut milk, with chilli paste, small crispy anchovies and other accompaniments, wrapped in a pandanus leaf ).

We could frequently scent Michele slow cooking a sauce. Just behind the bar was a small stove, enough for the food the Osteria had become famous for. The sauce would be ready for lunchtime, attracting regulars who spilled out into the courtyard, eating, drinking, swapping gossip in the Italian way. That first day we were foot loose and fancy free, accompanied by two Chinese Malaysian friends. Honey’s friends had come to Italy to support her with her exhibitions, and to do a little shopping in the fashion capital of the world. Our first time ambling through Lombardy's Gallarate, saw us dodging globules of far from warm rain. Some of our small party used that opportunity to be distracted by negozio di vestiti, or shops of intriguingly Italian branded clothes. I, on the other hand, was beginning to fall in love with snatches of the local historic architecture. Because of the inclement weather, we hastened into an artisan leather shop, Doppia Vu (double ‘V’). It was a mistake which (literally) cost me a brand new leather artisan handbag for Honey’s birthday. Still, we had the pleasure that the bag was unique and made in Gallarate. Ill prepared for the less than clement weather, we eventually sheltered from the cloying damp by sidling into the Piazza Libertà's Botega Caffe Cacao. Once there, and having gladly set aside my healthy diet, I imbibed in the sumptuous thick cioccolato (a chocolate drink replete with a wooden spoon pre-dipped in molten chocolate). Back out, exploring, unexpected alleyways revealed courtyards with marbled steps, fleurs-de-lis ironwork and small frescoes amidst parked Smart cars and Audis. A kiosk in front of the Church of Santa Maria Assunta proffered Diabolik comic books, a wall’s graffiti proclaimed ‘everywhere’ as a far from young gentleman, dressed all in black apart from the red lining to his jacket (and seeming far from diabolic), bore that infamous Angela and Luciana Giussani T-shirt logo, and ‘those’ eyes. In the more clement evening we were escorted to the small ancient town of Castiglione Olona. It is reputed to be founded by the Romans, somewhere around 401 AD., and was later named both for its connection to the powerful Castiglione family, and to its proximity to Lombardy's Olona River. It was within Castiglione Olona that Honey's latest exhibitions were to be erected, and shown over a two week period. One exhibition was to be in the Palazzo Branda (named after the influential historical Cardinal Branda Castiglione), and the other in the castle (Castello di Monteruzzo) which overlooks the old town. It was all with

thanks to local Italian architect Alessio Schiavo. He, and the Castiglione Olona town council, who had kindly allowed us to use their facilities. Before the light dissipated at Palazzo Branda, and the buildings closed, we were treated to a viewing of rooms full of delicate frescoes from the 1400s, preserved, or rediscovered for posterity. Some important frescos had been hidden for centuries behind plaster. Diligent conservators had had the important task of revealing the elder frescos without damaging them, securing them for future generations to learn from. We also discovered that the Collegiata (monastery) up the hill, which had been the original castle, had the important John the Baptist frescoes (1435), by Italian

Kiosk in front of the Church of Santa Maria Assunta

Renaissance painter Masolino da Panicale, and commissioned by Cardinal Branda Castiglione. An overcast Wednesday arrived with us engaged in a not unseemly haste back to Castiglione Olona, this time to work. We headed towards the secondary school (Istituto Comprensivo, Castiglione Olona), and were delighted by our interactions with the enthusiastic local students. I gave my Art Talk while Honey engaged the students more directly with a batik workshop. Time, though limited, allowed us to engage two classes, taking us from morning to lunchtime. Lunch was taken at an Italian kiosk (Chiosco del Castello), which had recently expanded into a small cafe just outside Castello di Monteruzzo. That eatery, set back in a small park area, produced simple fare. Yet that lunch proved to be quite a high spot, with bruschetta sandwiches a foot long, crammed with fresh goodies and with all thanks to our English speaking maitre'd - Erika (she of the Latin American boyfriend). It was a long day. The setting up of Honey’s exhibition of acrylic works and the adjusting of her watercolour exhibition, left us exhausted. The satisfaction of a job well done, they say, is its own reward and once the work was over we treated ourselves to a superb four cheese pizza at Fabbrica Pizza (Mozzarella bar and cucina), long Largo Camussi, in Gallarate town. That pizza had crust so thin that it could have passed for a wafer, and was accompanied with local artisan beers (birra), enigmatically called ‘Yolo’ and dubbed an irreverent ‘blonde’ beer.

Diabolik comic book fan

Four cheese pizza at Fabbrica Pizza

It was then, at Fabbrica Pizza, when faced with that four cheese pizza, that I recalled days in Essex, England, when I would treat my youngest daughter to a four cheese pizza (in a Prezzo restaurant), near a ‘factory outlet’, drowning the pizza in Italian home-made chilli oil before consuming and, later, shopping for marked-down ‘branded’ goods. Come the night of the launch, Honey was resplendent in her red Chinese dress. I dressed in black. There was the usual speechifying, and local dignitaries helped us open the exhibitions. A thousand and one questions were interpreted from Italian into English by our good friend Alessio, and it all went rather well. The exhibitions (and Honey) looked stunning.

Cemetery, Gallarate

Piove! Senti come piove! Madonna come piove! Senti come viene giù! Piove! Senti come piove! Madonna come piove! Senti come viene giù! (Piove - Jovanoyyi) Thursday's are Thursday's whether in Gallarate, Italy, or in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. It wasn’t raining, but that quite unremarkable Thursday slid in constant grey clouds to mask the beginning of the summer heat. The air was comfortable, neither too hot nor too cool, a non- jacket day. While others were raiding the shops in Switzerland, I wandered, neither cloud-like nor too lonely, towards the MA*GA (Museo Arte Gallarate - the contemporary art museum). It was Italy's National Day (Festa della Repubblica,1948). The day Italy celebrates its surplus of cohesion, lack of Monarchy and a distinct lack of fascism. Of course, I should have looked it up on Google. Gallarate's MA*GA is quite poignantly situated. To one side stands a well kempt graveyard. The access road to which is immediately before the museum. The cemetery is graced by a collection of Art Nouveau and Art Deco statuary, overseeing Italian eternal rest. Another side of the museum is graced by a distinctly derelict factory, graffiti clad, windows broken. I waited for the museum to open, situating myself at the far side of the museum's car park, outside its perimeter. On a metal bench lay discarded banana skins, Warholian rejects from a progressive music album

Deserted factory opposite MA*GA

cover perhaps, a nod to the end of Modernism and the renaissance of Conceptualism began with Marcel Duchamp and Dada. It seemed incongruous, or is that ironic, that a homage to all that is Contemporary should be thus situated, and in the 'Smallville' of Lombardy no less. A small Bottello pigeon watched as I wrote. Despite advertising that the museum was to be open from 10 am Thursdays, by 10.30 am the museum had still not opened. There was no mention of holidays, public or otherwise*. I walked to a fruit shop and bought EEC regulated Cavendish bananas (€.86). Despite their proximity to the museum, the wrapped yellow fruits had the usual slightly bent, pale yellow fruits inside - not pink.

*I have since learned that ‘Republic Day is a nationwide public holiday in Italy. Organisations and businesses that are closed include:

. . . .

Government offices. Post offices. Banks. Schools and other educational institutions, and MA*GA.

Pensatore,Vittorio di Martino, 1962

unknown

‘MA*GA was founded in 1966, with a core collection of works acquired as a result of the city’s art prize, the Premio Nazionale Arti Visive, established in 1950. In December 2009 the City of Gallarate established the Foundation of the Civica Galleria d’Arte Moderna di Gallarate to administer the Civica Galleria d’Arte Moderna (Municipal Gallery of Modern Art) of Gallarate, on the basis of an agreement signed by the Culture Minister and the Mayor of Gallarate. The founding partners were the Ministry of Heritage and Culture and the City of Gallarate, with the Lombardy Region and the Province of Varese as institutional partners. The mission of the Foundation is to manage the activities of the museum: the conservation and enhancement of the works in the collection, organisation of exhibitions and cultural events and creative activities and training for schools and adult audiences. Following this institutional development, the Museum, historically known as the Galleria Civica d'Arte Moderna di Gallarate, on March 19, 2010, acquired the name of the MA*GA Museo Arte Gallarate and inaugurates the new museum in Via De Magri, specially designed to showcase its collections and cultural activities.’

Isola di Creta,Vittorio di Martino, 1980

Arno river

While MA*GA (Museo Arte Gallarate) grew from the elderly Civic Gallery of Modern Art, the City of Gallarate National Visual Arts Award began back in 1950 (May 25th) and was held annually until 1953, when it became a biannual event. Over the years, and especially since the new museum was built in 1966, the award has encouraged new Contemporary artists by buying some of the works made especially for the award. The GAM, or Civic Gallery of Gallarate, was established from these acquisitions and later (March 2010), now named the MA*GA it has housed one of the largest collections of Contemporary Italian art. The theme ‘Urban Mining’, and its relationship to Contemporary Art, especially in regard to MA*GA aroused curiosity. Deciphering definitions of mining and urban mining brings the realisation that ‘…mining is the process, or business, of digging in mines to obtain minerals, metals, jewels, etc’ (according to the Merriam-Webster online dictionary), and ‘the science, technique, and business of mineral discovery and exploitation’ (Dictionary of Mining). Urban mining, is defined by Former Director of Sustainability and 30

Private View, Ettore Favini, 2016

River of life, Rain was your birth, Gathered deep Beneath the earth. Search and seep, Hollow stone, Issue and flow, Virgin stream, Meander free, It's a long way to the sea. Premiata Forneria Marconi (PFM) River Of Life

Flussi, Cesare Pietroiusti, 2016

Strategic Planning, Jesse Stallone, as ‘the process of reclaiming compounds and elements from products, building and waste’. Whereas one website - ‘treehugger.com’, suggested that ‘Urban mining is a new concept for getting more people to recycle their old electronic gadgets and other stuff that contains precious metals. These include gold, silver, platinum, iridium and a range of others, that make your cell phone go beep and blink’. The term ‘Urban Mining’ surfaced in connection with Contemporary Art and Japanese artist Yuko Mohri. In 2014, Yuko Mohri exhibited a short series of assemblages titled ‘Urban Mining: For the Rite of Spring’, at Art Fair Tokyo. The artist had collected and reused items such as miniature street lights, beer and soda tins, discarded tools, small motors and other electronic parts, as well as many other found objects to spontaneously create her works. She is quoted as saying “I am curious to know: ‘What is nature? What is artificial?’ So I wanted to use this theme in my piece,” There were obvious connections to Dada and Surrealism, and perhaps even the fluidity of Alexander Calder’s ‘mobiles’ in her work. The concept of reusing ‘found’ objects is very Dada (Marcel Duchamp’s ‘Fountain’ made from a urinal, 1917), and very Picasso (‘Still Life’ 1914, scraps of wood, tablecloth fringing, also Bull’s Head, 1942, made from a bicycle seat and handlebars). In 2016, Mohri took part in a group exhibition ‘Regeneration Movement’ which suggested that ‘Waste’ is a relative concept that leads us to contemplate how values are formed and abandoned. The process by which value is transformed and rediscovered is what the exhibition seeks to explore.’ Yuko Mohri’s series seemed to adapt Jesse Stallone and ‘treehugger’s’ definitions, in the creation of her works using waste, extracted or discarded material coupled with concerns for the environment. The idea of finding, or discovery, perhaps a redefining of mining, took on a different edge in Italy, with MA*GA’s ‘Urban Mining’. This year, in Gallarate, nine Contemporary artists were chosen out of a field of 40 to represent ‘The Arno river and the city of Gallarate’, they were - the A12 collective, Luca Bertolo, Ludovica Carbotta, Ettore Favini, Luca Francesconi, Christiane Löhr, Marzia Migliora, Cesare Pietroiusti and Luca Trevisani. MA*GA’s theme Urban Mining (Italian is ‘Rigenerazioni Urbane’) echoes the Taiwan group show involving Mohri (‘Regeneration Movement’). Could there be a case to consider ‘The Arno river and the city of Gallarate’, the theme for the 2016 (25th) City of Gallarate National Visual Arts Award, as ‘regeneration’, rather than mining? Is it a relooking or a reconsideration? Elements of the MA*GA showing have connections with memory and history, especially Cesare Pietroiusti’s display ‘Flussi’ (broken words), demonstrating loss of memory inherent with Alzheimer's Disease, recalling an earlier (2011) video work ‘Pensiero Unico’ which saw Pietroiusti gradually loosing his voice while singing fascist songs, having or loosing a voice literally and figuratively. Loss of memory (Alzheimer's Disease) is a figurative loss of a voice, just as memories of Roman miscreants were deleted from that society’s collective memory in a process which has become known as ‘Damnatio memoriae’ or - condemnation of memory. Luca Bertolo took the concept of drawing upon the Arno river and the city of Gallarate in a very literal sense. The artist had not just mined ideas from, but created colour pencil drawings of, items the artist had collected from, and around, the Arno river. Those drawn images were 33

Private View, Ettore Favini, 2016

Images from the Arn 34

photographed and reproduced as large scale posters which were erected around the city of Gallarate. Effectively, yet momentarily, achieving the opposite of Damnatio memoriae, by revealing rather than eradicating. Bertolo essentially drew focus towards society’s discards by enlarging life’s minutiae, bringing those items to the public’s attention, sans explanation. The posters hid as much as they revealed. The posters held only the image of the colour pencil drawn object, and the location where the original was to be seen (MA*GA) no subsequent information or explanation. Like Pietroiusti’s creations, Bertolo’s attention on discarded fragments was all too transitory as the ink on the posters will eventually be bleached by the sun, and disappear. Ettore Favini’s idea of ‘Private View’ was a work which has taken nearly a decade to create, from New York to Gallarate. One very potent image of Ettore Favini’s ‘Private View’, a river shaped mirror with a back light, immediately intrigued the exhibition visitor. We learned the shape to be a map of the River Arno, the small circular attachments poignant places to view from. Favini created foldable wooden stools to enable visitors to visit, view, and interact with the river, to gain a better understanding of its difficulties and beauty. Those trips, deemed micro-trips, were collected in a diary of ideas, recollections, some pined onto white paper, in the gallery. Favini had anticipated painters, river visitors, as participants in the performance of the whole, a performance ‘plein air’, animating the banks of the river, bringing fresh discourses. A press release from MA*GA reminded visitors that; ‘In parallel, the A12, a collective of architects founded in Genoa in 1993 in a cross deals with the themes of architecture, urbanism and contemporary art, has worked with Arno space on the dual nature of the Arno river: the negative, linked to the risks of flooding or degradation, and the positive one, defined by the presence of vegetation within the city. In this dual nature Arno corresponded two systems of artefacts denouncing the relationship between the city and the river: the various physical and technological elements that make up the monitoring and control system and the architectural elements of the bridges crossing protection. The project is based on the analysis of these two systems, consisting of objects that belong to types with their own history also in art and architecture, and their relationship with the urban space of Gallarate, with ' target of achievements’, through the creation of one or more works, on display at the headquarters of Pro Loco in Gallarate, as a summary of this dual nature of the river.’ Urban Mining/ Urban Regeneration is the title of the exhibition catalogue, published by Corraini.

no shop in Gallarate 35

in the studio of

Alessio Schiavo & 30 Silent Tales

Alessio Schiavo was born in Gallarate, Italy, in 1965. He studied at Milan Polytechnic where he graduated in architecture, in 1990. He began his professional career in 1992, working mainly on residential architecture and interior design, and has participated in numerous architectural and design competitions. Since 2001 he is also an Adjunct Professor at the faculty of Architecture at Milan Polytechnic. Schiavo combines constant painting research with his architecture practice, and has won national awards for painting, both on solo shows and in group exhibitions. Schiavo has exhibited alongside the Chinese artist Luo Qi, both in Italy and in China.

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Racconti muti

The the latest, diminutive (15x21 cm), artworks titled "Racconti muti Silent Tales”, by northern Italian architect and painter Alessio Schiavo, have grown out of a collaboration for a book of illustrated poems. Though still inspired by Mark Rothko’s unique brand of Abstract Expressionism, Schiavo brings a gentle “Italianess” to his own works, an almost ethereal gentility to images romanticised from antiquity. The reduction to their present size lends these thirty pieces an ephemeral quality, a fragility conducive to the poems they stand against. Schiavo has added a fresh element and melded it into the abstractions.

Echoing the writer’s text, but not text itself, Schiavo renders a hand drawn ‘text’ that is sans text as an echo of the poet’s words. Those cursive strokes recall the “Pseudo scripts” known as “Pseudo-Kufic”, “Kufesque” or occasionally Mongol (Phags-pa) script writing. They resemble cursive text, but represent no known language. Such imitative cursive imagery predates even the southern Italian faux Arabic coins from the 10th century (those from Amalfi, and Salerno). Those fake coins (called tarì) used illegible pseudo-Kufic script instead of genuine Arabic, and were no doubt caste by artisans unfamiliar with Arabic language.

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More importantly though, this form of “Pseudo script” manifests itself in European paintings from the 10th century onwards (in France, Greece and Germany), but the most important discovery is “Pseudo script”, arabesque lettering used as ornament in Italian painting of the 13th century onwards. It is used as ornament by artists such as Cimabue (Cenni di Pepo,1240-1302) using false Arabic on a mandril (handkerchief ) held by a crying Virgin Mary, in his painting “Crucifix” (1265-1268). Then there was Giotto (Giotto di Bondone, 12671337)), painter and architect from Florence. Masaccio (1401-1428)

who used this form of cursive writing for halos in the “Madonna and Child Enthroned with Angels” (1426), and not forgetting the pseudoArabic halos by Gentile da Fabriano (1370-1427), in the slightly earlier paintings such as “Adoration of the Magi” (1423). Schiavo’s thirty pieces are not of silver. There is no suggestion of a betrayal of his art, but they are silent. As mentioned above, the artist incorporates pseudo-script, faux-language, into these thirty pieces, rendering them silent. The ‘language’ is false, unreadable, and therefore to all intents and purposes are “muti" or “muto" (dumb) but not “Senza

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Voce”, having no voice, nor voiceless nor “taciturno” (taciturn). The voice is the combination of pseudo-script and image, it speaks but with the language of art not of text. The abstraction, image making, and the manifestation of the illegible language sits as a counterpoint to the very legible poetry it coexists with. Separated from the poetry Schiavo’s thirty pieces take on a substance, a voice, and importance of their own, they phenomenologically become .

Gallararte, in the province of Varese, Italy, is rapidly becoming a suburb of Milan. There are numerous pros and cons which come with proximity to a major city, known for its fashion sense. Brave therefore is the woman who tries to muscle in on the fashionistas, braver still when the Milanese culture and the Lombardian region are not hers from birth. And yet Netherlander Welmoed Oud has successfully carved out her niche in the Italian fashion world, albeit a small niche, and happy to have her leather boutique in that salient satellite, just 30 train minutes from marvellous Milan. Oud studied 3D design at the ArtEZ Academy of Art and Design, Arnhem, The Netherlands, turning her hand to many aspects of physical design from the creation of rings to furniture, ceramics and, poignantly, bags. It was through her interaction with screen print, in her second year, that led her to consider leather as a suitable material. It was an instant attraction. There was a genuineness, an authenticity, about working with leather. Oud felt it right from her initial interaction with the material. As she says ‘ Each piece of leather has its own characteristics to become a new product….It's a resisting, supple and strong material that still, everyday, surprises me.’ Four years at Dutch art school led her, and her leather bag work, to studying with ‘The Master Program’ at the Creative Academy, Milan (part of the Richemont Group) exploring ‘accessories’. In 2007 Oud inaugurated her brand ‘WELMOED bags and accessories’, gaining clients and creating fresh designs with every step. Oud finds inspiration for her designs everywhere from ‘ …weird shapes in architecture, nature or other materials (which) can give me the drive to experiment. First in paper or fabric (directly 3D models) to get the right shape, and to see if it can become a bag/accessory. After that I choose the right leather and finish it with all the little details.’

A year later, Oud and her life partner moved out from Milan to Gallarate. Gallarate is close to Milan–Malpensa Airport, formerly the City of Busto Arsizio Airport, and the largest airport for the Milan metropolitan area in northern Italy, greener and with a lot less chaos. Since 2014 Oud has had her studio/boutique, called ‘Doppia Vu’, just down the road from Osteria il Mercanto, in Gallarate. There customers can observe her working on her handmade products, belts, shoulder-straps for bags, bags for weddings, dinning table coasters and a whole wide range of leather items, designed and created by her. Genuine craft workers are few and far between, less so shop/ boutiques selling authentically crafted, unique, personalised, items. Oud brings leather treasures into a world increasingly turning to the cheaper, quick fixes of pseudo-leather which comes in all manner of guises of "leatherette", "faux leather", "PU leather" or “pleather”. Fake leather is made from a range of plastics and other ephemeral materials which have a tendency to peel or crack. None have the durability, the stylishness, aura, or comfortableness of the real leather products that Welmoed Oud and Doppia Vu offer. "DOPPIA VU" via Postporta 3, Gallarate (VA) Italy https://welmoed-bags.com/

Anemonina

Calice bag

Ptavaso

Murcia

“ …weird shapes in architecture, nature or other materials can give me the drive to experiment.” 53

Casti Olo

iglione ona

Procession of women, virgins and saints, led by Saint Ursula, by Vecchietta (detail)

Honey Khor’s exhibitions were just a twenty minute drive from Gallarate, at Castiglione Olona, by the river Olona, in the province of Varese.

Valentina, Guido Crepax

The town was featured in ‘Valentina’, by one of Italy’s best loved and most notorious comic book artists Guido Crepax, who was born in Milan.

Formerly a Gaulish settlement (401 AD), Castiglione Olona became a Roman outpost for many centuries. Over time, a castle was built by the Castiglione family but, in 1071, it was besieged by the Church in Milan due to local politics. Gradually the castle lost its importance and, in 1421, Cardinal Branda Castiglione torn it down to build a church. The Cardinal, a humanist, was also responsible for free school in the town, ‘to dispel the ignorance’. Being not just a man of God, but a friend to the arts, the Cardinal was responsible for some of the most important Italian frescoes to be painted in the collegiate church and the town. In the church is Masolino da Panicale’s Life of the Virgin, iL Vecchietta’s Life of St. Stephen, Paolo Schiavo’s The Life of St. Lawrence, and the Crucifixion is by Neri di Bicci. In 1435 the Cardinal had commissioned Masolino to fresco the entire Baptistry dedicated to John the Baptist. He was also responsible for the intriguing Landscape with Mountains (c. 1435) in the Palace of Cardinal Branda Castiglione, Castiglione Olona. A new castle emerged from a large manor house, overlooking the town, during the 16th century. It has become known as Castle Monteruzzo, and has the dubious honour of hosting the world’s largest pizza (430 metres) according to the Guinness Book of Records (2010). With thanks to Alessio Schiavo, we arrived at Castiglione Olona in the evening. A reconnaissance for the setting up of Honey’s two exhibitions. Although Alessio had send many images of the spaces, it was difficult to gauge the enormity of those two spaces being offered

by the town council. Both were splendid spaces, and both very different. We had decided to house the larger, acrylic, works in the older building and the much smaller coloured sketches, ink, watercolour and acrylic in the castle, as they were more suited to the large black boards we had been offered. The setting up of the exhibitions proved to be every bit as challenging as we had imagined. The hanging of chains, climbing of ladders, squaring the paintings and the placing of name tags all took time and a great deal of patience. Saturday was both Honey’s exhibitions’ openings and her birthday. It would be indelicate of me to say which. Honey had received flowers, and a goodly crowd had gathered. Speechifying was completed to allow people to wander the two exhibitions to their heart’s delight. Sunday, was the first day of Honey exhibitions being open to the public. We were most fortunate as Sunday brought the local old town antiques market (La Fiera) with it. Crowds of most welcome visitors joyfully bounced out of small cars, dismounted from expensive looking motorcycles or simply walked, heading to the colourful stalls surrounding the antique town centre, and its curiously small vehicular roundabout. Some brought and bought objects d’art, others brought or bought the sweet vinyl musical sense of late 1960s/early 1970s to our ears. As we stalwartly curated Honey's exhibition with trickles and sometimes rushes of visitors, we became serenaded by the adjacent (mostly vinyl) record fair. Creedence Clearwater Revival, John Mayall, Jethro Tull, David Bowie, King Crimson etc permeated the ancient town’s stone walls, sweeping through 58

Sunday morning crafts market

the open wooden doorway to brush us and paintings of Honey’s wildest imaginings, with their well remembered refrains. Small town Castiglione Olona had few eateries. We frequently dived into Al Bistrot (Bar, Tabacchi, paninoteca), at the Piazza Garibaldi, just opposite Honey’s main exhibition. The outside had an awning. It was comfortable to be out of the sun, sitting, watching life strolling by, smelling the fresh jasmine which climbed that bistro’s doorway and coffee being made. It was also good to drink those brief cups of coffee, an amber beer, or a hearty earthenware dish crammed with melted cheese and polenta (boiled cornmeal), or one of Lombardy’s infamously large,

Sunday mornin

ng record fayre

Vinyl in the yard

Town ancient doorway

Al Bistro

ot eatery

crusty, ham and cheese sandwiches (panini). If eating and drinking became boring in that small sandwich shop, the inquisitive visitor could ponder its curious styles of object d’art, ancient typewriters, small model cars and, I could only imagine, many fond memories. On that Sunday, while the market hubbub was buzzing around us, Honey and I took turns to be in attendance at one of the exhibitions, or released to wander and marvel at the antique architecture, the antiquarian book sellers, local crafts stalls or sip Lemon Soda at Al Bistrot. At times she would sit, in that salmon pink dress echoing the redness of her shoes, in one corner of the exhibition room, leg crossed to support her long watercolour pad, sketching. Her long, now auburn, hair brushed to one side as she concentrated. Visitors would enter, see Honey sketching and stop momentarily, transfixed by the artist and her work. Some would linger longer, smile as she looked up. Others, the spell broken, would skitter to the smaller room with the larger paintings, perhaps embarrassed by their stares. One woman entered with a small group, family? Friends? They drifted through then stopped. She observed Honey’s six piece painting, drew closer, stepped back, happily smiling as she did so. She rushed over to share her observations with her group, they, reluctantly moved over to try to see what she had. Judging from their expressions they couldn’t. She rushed to Honey, spoke the best she could in English, excited, had her photo taken with Honey and left delighted with her visit and a small pack of postcards of Honey’s work. Back at the antiques fair, a red cloth lay covering the concrete 62

Snack

Honey Khor in the gallery

Honey Khor sketching

k time

path. On the cloth a number of small objects were carefully placed; elderly metal keys, metal (German?) wedding spoons and an assortment of beer mats featuring Moto Guzzi. At Via G. Mazzini a bookstall had set up. Novels, poetry, antiquarian maps of the locale all kept their counsel in Italian, as impregnable to me as the wafting music was accessible. Soon it was to be gone. The exhibitions locked, the antiques fair closed and we back to Gallarate.

Italian bric a brac

Honey in Italy

Malaysian artist Honey Khor has constantly demonstrated not only her love of life, but her very stringent work ethic. Her vibrant new extensive, and expansive work melded her bubbling imagination, her keen observations and her artistic aptitude in a flurry of acrylic and oil paintings concerning her two favourite Mediterranean destinations – Lombardy (Italy) and Catalonia (Spain). Doused in local Mediterranean symbolisms, Honey’s undoubtedly poetic mind had re-created consensus reality, transforming it into a flamboyantly flagrant Mielism where nature and man coalesce, metamorphose under the influence of the artist’s own Joie de vivre. 64

Honey Khor

Castiglione Olona at night

This year (2016) saw Honeyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s first exhibitions in Italy. They were in a small, yet artistically very important town, known as Castiglione Olona, in the province of Varese, Lombardy, Italy, not far from the northern capital of Milan.

After a lengthy period of negotiation with Castiglione Olona town council, Honey’s work was accepted to grace two separate venues in the town. One exhibition of mostly acrylic work, called ‘Under the Olive Bough’, was to be at 14th/15th century Palazzo Branda (Palace of Cardinal Branda Castiglione), and the other, a mixture of small acrylic pieces and line and watercolour, across and overlooking the town, in the 16th century castle Castello di Monteruzzo (Monteruzzo’s Castle). Honey worked vigorously towards those two exhibitions, burning midnight oils and two-ended candles to complete the work in time to catch her flights.

Palazzo Branda Castiglioni

(Exhibition - Under the Olive Bough) Olives are known to be at least 6,000 years old, according to fossilised leaves found in Athens. Honey, using an olive tree in this set of paintings was symbolic of many of the Mediterranean countries including the Italian Republic, and their zest for olives. Olives are representative of strength and resilience. Honey’s use of olive symbolises not just the concept of Hebrew mythology and the olive branch as an icon of peace, but also of the olive’s connection to prosperity, resurrection and hope, in her dynamic paintings. Honey has embraced the very nexus of myths from Greece, Italy and Spain. The Greek philosopher, Democritus, had associated myths of immortality with olives. She suggests the Greek poet Homer, as he referred to olive oil as liquid gold, and reminds us of the first Olympic torch, as a burning olive branch. In these works Honey wanted to honour the humble olive, that mainstay of life so important to Italy and Spain. Being given the opportunity to have at her disposal two high ceilinged rooms, gave Honey the notion to extend her repertoire, and the size of her canvases, to expand into the splendour of their surroundings. The mainstay of the palace exhibition were long draped images. Taking their cue from medieval heraldic hanging banners Under the Olive Bough, Whisper of Olive i and ii, Castilo Gala Dali and Casa Salvador Dali dropped from near ceiling to floor. Two large art works were comprised of multiple canvases (Mielist Palazzo ’10 canvases’ and I Jump on the Medieval Dream ‘6 canvases’) and were carefully mounted to give a slightly fractured image, allowing each canvases to be read individually, or as a whole. The long hanging banners reached a length of 261 centimetres (over 8.5 feet), as tall as some olive trees. These banners were reserved for the smaller room to give more impact, but could be glimpsed through the medieval stone arch which connected the two rooms, effectively framing those images as visitors looked through from one room to the other. The works which were comprised of the multiple canvases were on display in the first room, the larger room. As the exhibition was eventually dismantled, the largest piece (Mielist Palazzo) was left with Castiglione Olona Council, as part of their permanent collection.

Under the Olive Bough, Whisper of Olive i and ii

Honey Khor at her opening

Under the Olive Bough (detail)

The Memory Of Olive

The Call Of Olive

I Jump On The M

Medieval Dream

Dare To Dream

Reflection of Passion

The Magic Of Dream

A Tuscan Island In Lombardy

Under the Olive Boug

Monteruzzo Castle

Truth Of Dream

Castillo Gala Dali

Casa Salvador Dali

In the room the women come and go....

Honey Khor at her second opening

Castello di Monteruzzo (Exhibition - The Journey)

Honey had always dreamed of castles. Ever since her formative years in her small northern Malaysian town, Honey had fantasised of visiting a European castle. Being born in South East Asia she had little hope of those dreams becoming a reality. Still she yearned, even as a novice painter grappling with her desire to be an artist at the Malaysian Institute of Art, and the vagaries of growing, learning and finding her way amidst the nay sayers and those incredulous at her chosen career. Some decades later, Honey had her dreams come true. Not only has she been an active artist for over twenty years, but had the opportunity to have her last exhibition of sketches in a castle. The castle was the Monteruzzo Castle, the country, Italy. During her years of painting, Honey had never let the twin disciplines of drawing and sketching evade her. As she has travelled, so has she made images as she went, From Cambodia to China, France, Italy, Indonesia, Malaysia, Philippines, Spain and Vietnam Honey has sketched along the way. At times she has been lucky to exhibit either in solo shows, or in the company of other artists in some of those countries. Last year (2015) Honey exhibited in China, Philippines and Spain. She was also called to have an impromptu showing of her sketching, again in Spain this year, while supposedly having a break from the Italian exhibitions. As well as a number small acrylic works, painted especially for the showing in Castello di Monteruzzo, Honey displayed various sketches and watercolours from her journeying. The exhibition was to demonstrate not just an artist’s physical, but also her spiritual explorations. The exhibition spread over three rooms. The final room also held the fruit of Honey’s teaching in the secondary school at Castiglione Olona. On two opposing walls, works from the secondary school young adults demonstrated their notions of ‘batik’, overseen by Honey. Using batik paints and water, the students were able to experiment using colour and form, as well as remembering some basic batik motifs. Both exhibitions demonstrated Honey’s commitment to vibrant, exciting, colour. Her Mielist work has revealed both spirituality and passion. She exhibits a passion for her work, passion for her subjects, but more especially her passion for life itself. 89

A Drift Of Dream

Love Lane

Fat Bird

Monteruzzo Castle

Together

Dream Of Palazzo Branda

La Chiesa Di Villa

At the Gate

A Peaceful Slumber

Moonlight Way to Palazzo

art talk Istituto Comprensivo 'Cardinal Branda Castiglioni' di Castiglione Olona Varese Lombardy Italy With Martin Bradley

And workshop with Honey Khor

Martin Bradley

Joan VehĂ in conversation

Honey Khor

Joan VehĂ

Azucena Moya

Joan

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It had been three years since Señor Lluís Duran, Figueres hotelier and bon amic, had driven Honey and I over the Pyrenees to the Alt Empordà comarca seaside town of Cadaqués (2013).

Vehí

It was there that we had first met Salvador Dali’s carpenter and photographer, Joan Vehí Serinyana (otherwise known as Joan Vehí). On this occasion (2016), it was Catalan writer Azucena Moya who drove, helped us with translating and conversationally kept our minds occupied and away from the sharp bends and sheer drops of the steep Pyrenees mountain range. Sparkling Azucena had previously assisted before, and we were very happy to have such an able, knowledgeable, person with us. She had helped translate in with my Art Talk in Figueres (2015), and Honey’s previous art exhibitions there. Over many years Cadaqués has hosted a number of famous people. These include Pablo Picasso (also a friend of the Pitxot family), Antoni Pitxot (friend, collaborator and co-designer of Salvador Dali’s museum in Figueres) and Marcel Duchamp, who first discovered the town in 1933, and returned for the Summers from 1958 to 1968. Man Ray, René Magritte, Federico García Lorca and of course Salvador Dalí, all visited or stayed on in Cadaqués. As a youth Dalí stayed at the Pitxot house, and learned painting from Ramón Pichot (Pitxot) his mentor, and who was, coincidentally, friends with Pablo Picasso in Paris. Dalí had also met the love of his life, Gala (Elena Ivanovna Diakonova, then Gala Eluard, wife of Paul Eluard) when he was staying in Cadaqués in 1929. In 1930 Dalí began building his home in Port Lligat, just along the coast from Cadaqués. He lived and painted there for 40 years, until Gala’s death in 1982. Joan Vehí was born in Cadaqués, Catalonia, Spain, on 30th May in the year that Dalí met Gala, 1929. It was also the year of the Barcelona International Exposition, the second Worlds Fair to be held in Barcelona, the first being 1888. At the tender age of fourteen Vehí, took the initiative to become a carpenter. Manuel Torrents was Vehí’s first teacher, teaching with manual tools. In 1947 Vehí learned to operate machines, and later, established the first factory wood machines in Cadaqués. Working with wood enabled Vehí to mix with the artists visiting Cadaqués, including Salvador Dalí. Señor Lluís Duran, an old acquaintance of Señor Vehí, had arranged for Azucena, Honey and I to visit with him for an informal interview, as part of my background research. Once more we traversed the steep, pebbly, white and blue, vermillion and pink bougainvillea clad corridors, down and up to that old carpentry workshop that Señor Vehí, a cabinetmaker and carpenter by profession, had converted into a small museum dedicated to his photography (1996). We remembered that it was adjacent to the stunningly white Església de Santa Maria (Saint Mary’s Church), in Cadaqués. 101

Honey Khor with Azucena Moya

Azucena Moya, Joan VehĂ and Martin Bradley

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Joan Vehí Cadaques has a relationship with Figueres. Figueres is the centre of economy, culture, everything. So you must be connected with Figueres. Señor Duran senior was the key there. He was always connecting people, and I have known the whole family. We met and I have known them during thirty-five years with Dalí. Martin Bradley I imagine that you must be so used to people coming and wanting to have interviews, wanting to talk to you… Joan Vehí Yes, I have had quite a lot of interviews, especially in 2004, Dali’s centennial. Twenty-six television channels came, and ninety-seven journalists all of which were duly recorded in my ledger. Also all the interviews, and everything. Right now it is a fashion to talk about Dalí. There have been people from Korea, China, all around the world, Norway even. People from North America came to interview for documentaries, films, because of my thirty-five years with Dalí. There is no one else who has this record with the painter. I and another, Arturo Caminada were in Dali’s comfort zone, the only ones empowered to act for him. Martin Bradley How did you come to work with Salvador Dalí? Azucena Moya, Joan Vehí and Martin Bradley

Joan Vehí

In 1952, two of us entered Dalí’s service together. I was the carpenter, and later trusted photographer, whereas Señor Caminada was Dalí’s assistant, fetching coffee, newspapers etc. We were the only ones Dalí trusted with his works, to touch his works. (Señor Vehí shows a photograph taken of he and Arturo Caminada holding one of Dalí’s paintings, in Dalí’s Port Lligat studio, and home.) Before I entered into Dalí’s service, as a carpenter, it was on the condition that I passed his test. That was to make a frame for one of his paintings. I made it. Dalí really liked it. We connected. (Señor Vehí shows another photograph taken featuring himself, Arturo Caminada and two others holding one of Dalí’s paintings)

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At first I was hired to only make things in the house, doors etc. Over time he asked me to make more, different, things for him. Eventually Dalí would say a few things to me and then let me get on with the work. I was made responsible for many aspects of the work on Pubol castle, for instance Gala’s bedroom. We had a special connection. We could understand each other. This was in 1957. Dalí would draw only two lines, and I instinctively knew what those lines meant, a chair or a table that he wanted me to make. (Señor Vehí shows a sketch Dalí made of a table, a drawing too. Later (1959) I helped make the frame for Dalí’s “The Discovery of America by Christopher Columbus”. Dalí had rolls of different sized canvases, thinner or thicker, ready to make small or large paintings. We had to take it out of the studio through the window. It wouldn’t fit through the door. I was also asked to make other things of wood for Dalí, chairs, tables etc. I made one particular chair for Dalí, and there are only two of them in the entire world, one in Figueres and one in Cadaqués. Martin Bradley It’s like a ‘Planter’s Chair’ Joan Vehí

Joan Vehí

I have all the bills and receipts from Dalí, over the years. I have a collection of these from other people, from around 500 houses in Cadaqués, architectural drawings, plans too. It is what I have always done. A lot of architects are interested in my

archives, for they have no parallel. There is a connection between myself, Dalí and Cadaqués. Over the years I have taken over 30,000 transparencies of Cadaqués from 1945 to the present, not to mention many, many of Dalí too. I have a huge collection. Martin Bradley There have been many negative things written about Salvador Dalí . What was he like as a friend? Joan Vehí I have photos from inside Dalí’s house. He was a normal person. When Dalí organised parties and invited people it was only when he felt like it. The rest of the time he was just normal. I and two workers were working in Dalí’s house. Dalí came and mentioned that someone had called for an appointment. He said to me that he had to leave, and act like ‘Dalí’ for a moment or two.

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Joan Vehí

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Dalí’s role playing was only when Dalí wanted. Dalí and I working together was most important. We were very close. Perhaps I was invisible in a way, for Dalí would allow no one else to photograph within his home. I was the only one allowed to take photographs in Pubol castle, for instance. I was able to take casual photos of Dalí, Gala and her ‘friends’. As they were going about their daily lives, reading, painting, I was taking photographs. I believe that Dalí and Gala thought that it was only my hobby, and that I had no intention to sell any of those photos. The Dalí Foundation do not have any photos from inside the Pubol castle. I am the only one to have those photos, not just as it was being constructed, but also when they were living there. I was always there, working everywhere. In one way I should like to protect Dalí’s memory from those who want to say that he was boig, crazy. People did not know Dalí the way that I did. I saw him as a normal person, but also ‘great;. He did a lot of things as well as painting, jewellery, writing, some crystal pieces (now in a private collection). Dalí is in all those things, and in that way will never die. I don’t see Dalí the performer in his artwork, but a normal man, a painter. There were times, in Pubol, when I had finished my work, and was about to go, that Dalí wanted to talk with me, ask me about Cadaqués. How was everything, had anything changed. Had someone new came. Dalí, who was not very close to his family, would ask me about them. I would leave, Gala would come into the room and it was like just anyone else, everyday life.

People came, expecting to see Salvador Dalí, so he would perform for them, make them happy. When they went away he would resume his normal self, continue whatever he had been doing before they came. Many people visit me and say that they had read this, or that about Dalí. I warn them to be careful not to believe everything they read about him. There are many people who had met Dalí only once, and wrote a book. This is not the real Dalí. You have to known him for years to be able to understand him. There are only a few books which show the real Dalí. You must be aware that those who really knew Dalí are mostly all dead now, except for me. Gala, Arturo Caminada and Antoni Pitxot have all gone. With the utmost thanks to Azucena Moya and her translation skills and to Señor Joan Vehí for allowing the interview to take place. June 2016

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Lluís Roura’s studio

View from dining room

Lluís Roura

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Lluís Durán, Lluís Roura, Martin Bradley

Our host, friend, and mentor in everything Catalonia, hotelier Señor Lluís Durán Simon, was most insistent that we visit with his bon amic, an artist and yet another Lluís, Lluís Roura Juanola. Honey and I were in Figueres for a short break from her exhibitions in Lombardy, Italy. We had a tight schedule which began and ended with catching up with Spanish friends, eating copious amounts of tapes (Catalan Tapas) and spending time with our extended family, the Durans. Eventually, after much persuasive persistence on Señor Durán’s behalf, we surrendered, letting him drive us in his ageing Audi through Catalonia’s charming Province of Girona to the antique fishing town of L'Escala. It has been written that L’Escala, a municipality of Alt Empordà, in Girona, is acknowledged for two things, the ancient (Greco-Roman) ruins known as Empúries, and as a small fishing town producing the salty small fish we call anchovies and Catalans call seitons (which some say are simply the best and mentioned by Francisco Zamora in his "Diary of journeys in Catalonia”, 1700s). To this, admittedly short, list I add a third - Lluís Roura Juanola, or Lluís Roura as he prefers. It is said that Catalan artist Lluís Roura Juanola came into this world on a rainy day, at dusk, on the 5th of December, 1943. He arrived in San Miguel de Campmajor, in the province of Girona, Spain. Lluís’s birth was premature, complicated. In that dire situation one Dr. Verdaguer took water and baptised the child, believing as he did so that the new born had not long to live. Roura, however, survived. Señor Durán drove us past the early Summer countryside, past petrol stations also selling wine, past the turnoff to Roses and the roundabout where Roura’s mosaic (executed by Armand Olive in 2001) stands, along near the coastal waters of L’Escala (the scale), around and up to Roura’s magnificent multi- tired house overlooking the bay. In front of that traditionally white-painted house, in the Spanish tradition, stood an antique olive tree, still bearing fruit. Being elevated, and being by the bay, a welcome breeze cooled us as the sun was beginning its slide towards the horizon. As it did Roura, a keen photographer, whisked out his camera and began to take photographs of us all, not to forget the brush of the sun’s dying rays across the scant clouds and calm waters. I 110

View from studio

o to studio patio

Prints and paraphernalia

turned, startled to see a stork perched on the roof, gazing too at the sun setting. Roura gave a chuckle. The bird was transfixed not by the sunset, but by its fixtures to the roof. It was a very real statuette. Many, it seems, had been caught by Roura’s little jest, including me. Since his first art block drawings, back in the very different Spain of 1958, Roura has, over the decades, dedicated himself to the Catalan environment which has nurtured him for so many years. As a boy, taking the very first artistic steps into what was to become his amazing career, in 1960 Roura had won second prize in his first art competition then, later, in the same year, a first prize in another. Through the decades he has gone on to win awards, and amazing accolades for work which has brought his to the fore of Catalonian artists, and honoured by the town in which he now lives. Roura’s paintings have always had the sense of ‘giving back’, enriching the region which has become a constant subject for many of his larger scale works. L'Alt Empordà inspired Roura to paint and have published a weighty tome of his paintings about that region, including El pas de la tramuntana (1987) which captures the sombreness of the wind which can cause madness, and Geologia Cap de Creus (1986) echoing both Salvador Dali, whose home was nearby, and his friend Antoni Pixot, both of whom had been inspired by that most especial Catalan nature reserve. Roura engaged his visitors with an honestly smiling personality which projected his joie de vivre and good naturedness. His greatness has come through his painting the immediate environment, and later his photography. As we traversed the various layers of his seaside home, travelling towards his voluminous penthouse studio, we were led through his art gallery where huge, joyous, paintings acted like windows into colourful worlds. Worlds drenched by Mediterranean sun, warm, practically exotic or picturesquely static, frozen, frostily white but nevertheless dreamy Catalonian landscapes like Tapissat de neu, Tapis (2006) or La nevada. La Vajol (2006) awaited our gaze. One impressive landscape caught my eye (La Tardor - Autumn, one of The Four Season series, 1987). It was a stunningly fiery landscape in autumnal colours. A furious dance of reds danced to their own gypsy tune with vermillion, 111

Sunset at San Mori

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Four Seasons, Autumn,1987

red-orange, hot yellows drifting back to calmer pink shades dotted with practically staid green trees edging the eye a horizon, blue/grey with swathes of yellow swept into the practically placid sky. It was a flamenco tour-de-force worthy of Turner’s Sunset Over a Lake (1840). We stepped up and into Lluís Roura’s studio. Dominating the room was a most impressive picture window looking out to the town, revealing the extremely scenic Bay of Roses and its setting sun. Artistic paraphernalia were strewn across Roura’s stupendously large atelier penthouse. It was obvious that the generosity of space also doubled as an office as desks and computer shared the space with easels, tripods and tables laden with paint filled palettes, brushes and paint tubes in various stages of use and, of course, paintings, with one easel mounted, ready primed, blank canvas and all the references the artist requires for that new work. As if by arrangement, the outside sun began to grace the sky with gold. Roura grabbed another camera and dashed outside, encouraging us to do the same. He has taken thousands of photographs from his rooftop terrace, capturing myriad sunrises and sunsets and everything in-between. Looking at the spectacular celestial display one could understand why. Colour changes were so rapid that the human eye could barely catch them, but a camera lens can. Lluís Roura’s expansive painting of the Holy Land, titled The Landscape of Jesus’s Baptism, executed between 2010 and 2011, resides in the chapel of the baptistery Sant Pere de Figueres, in Figueres town, near the Dali Museum.

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Four Seasons, Summer,1987

Four Seasons, Winter,1987

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Four Seasons, Spring,1987

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Ampurdรกn landscape, 1981

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The Valley of Pau

Paisaje , 1985

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Road from Port Bou

Pals

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Cadaqués

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Jerusalem, 2008

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Jerusalem, 2008

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It had all began something like this…… Since her studenthood at the Malaysian Institute of Art, Malaysian artist Honey Khor had always liked the surrealistic images painted by Salvador Dalí. She was intrigued by the dreamlike quality of his imagery, their sexuality and keen juxtapositions. Twenty twelve had been a good year so far. Honey Khor was in Spain. She was, ostensibly, travelling with Malaysian friends. First to Barcelona, then on to Paris. She had followed the Gaudí trail, seen Casa Vincens, La Pedrera, Parc Güell, Palau Güell, Colonia Güell, El Drac de Gaudí at Finca Güell, Casa Batlló, Casa Calvet, the Cascada Fountain at Park de la Ciutadella and Gaudí’s crowning glory, La Sagrada Familia, his church, began in 1892 and still not finished. Before she left for her travels, a little English bird had whispered in Honey’s ear saying that she really should go to see Dalí's TheatreMuseum, in Figueres, a small Catalan town a few minutes north from Barcelona by train. Honey, being an avid fan of all things Salvador Dalí, and most resolute that she did not want to go shopping with her friends, followed the little bird’s advice and arrived in Figueres alone, armed only with her 11x16.6cm Daiso drawing pad and some other sketching materials. The day was drawing on. Honey made the decision to stay for a night in Figueres and continue her sketching the following day. She booked herself into a hotel, just off La Rambla (the town’s promenade), and resumed her sketching. Just before the evening light grew too dim to sketch by, 122

El Celler de Ca la Teta, Honey Khor

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Hotel Duran, Fig

she noticed an older man passing by her. He walked on, then walked back, then on and then back again as if troubled by something. Honey continued sketching before darkness enveloped that small Catalan town and she could sketch no longer. A shadow cast itself over her work. The older gentleman stood looking down. His English was poor but he conveyed his interest in buying the sketch. It was, he said, his friendâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s building and he would like to give the sketch as a present. Honey replied that the sketch was unfinished and that, perhaps, the gentleman would like to see her, in the morning, there, where she was sketching (on La Rambla), so that she might finish the piece. With that, she stood up, telling the gentleman that she would go to her hotel, to rest. She began to walk in the direction of her hotel. So did he. She reached her hotel, just some moments from where she was sketching. Figueres is not a large town. She told the gentleman that she 124

gueres, Honey Khor

had arrived, said good night, and that she would see him in the morning. He opened the door for her to walk in, as any gentleman may, then stepped in himself. “This”, he said, “is my hotel”. She looked at him doubtfully. He presented her with his business card. The hotel was Hotel Durán. On the card was written Durán Hotel and Restaurant; Lluís Durán Simon. “I am Lluís Durán”. On checking in, Honey had not noticed the hotel’s decor as she was in a hurry to begin sketching. Hotel Durán, as it turned out, was all that Honey could have wished for. Lluís Durán Simon was the son of Salvador Dalí’s friend, hotelier Lluís Durán Camps who had attended the same school as Dalí. Over the years Dalí had frequented Hotel Durán, had his meals there and, on occasions, stayed over in Room 101. Along the corridors, by the dining room, in all the public spaces around the hotel, were Dalí memorabilia. They had been garnered over the decades of friendship between the hotel and the artist. A much cheered and delighted Honey went for her rest. 125

Celler Ca La Tet

The following day, a refreshed Honey took her breakfast at the hotel and wandered across to La Rambla to continue her sketch. She looked around for Señor Durán, but couldn’t see him. She sketched. After sketching she went across La Rambla to Carrer de la Rambla, 12, where she had café amb llet (coffee with milk) and continued to look for Señor Durán. Suddenly, as she sipped her coffee she saw him. He stood, gazing around him, obviously looking for her. She paid, left her coffee and greeted him. His eyes lit up as he saw her, then greeted her with one of his cheekily famous smiles. Honey was presented to Señor Durán’s friend, gave the sketch and would accept no payment. Touched, Señor Durán invited Honey to accompany him on a little trip. During that day Honey was shown many places concerned with Salvador Dalí as Señor Durán drove his equally ageing Audi around the Costa Brava, to Cadaqués and on to Dalí’s home at Port Lligat. There was only one ticket left to see The Portlligat Museum-House at Platja 126

ta, Honey Khor

Portlligat, where Dalí had lived and painted from 1930 to 1982. Señor Durán insisted that Honey take that ticket. He waited. Later, in the evening, Señor Lluís Durán Simon invited Honey to accompany him to see the Dalí Theatre-Museum by Night, and so ended a most perfect Dalí day, Honey’s brief introduction to the Costa Brava and to Catalonia. The next day Honey had to say adéu to Señor Durán, Hotel Durán and Figueres. She was due return to her friends in the apartment in Barcelona. She had to ready herself for the flight to Paris, and all things Van Gogh.

It was but the beginning….

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& As the years have rolled by, Honey has been able to return, many times, to Hotel Durán, Figueres, and to people who, by chance, had made her feel part of their family. Accompanying her, I have been amazed and honoured to be taken along for this Dalí ride, meeting the Durán family and Honey’s new friends in Figueres. The circle grows ever wider with thanks to Señor Lluís Durán Simon, his ceaseless forging of acquaintances, Honey’s gregarisme and Señor Durán allowing us to follow in his adventurous Catalan footsteps. On our annual visits, we talk frequently about Señor Durán’s father (Lluís Durán Camps), and the relationship that he had built with Salvador Dalí, the fact that they went to the same school, but were not in the same class. Señor Lluís Durán Simon would tell of extracurricular chance meetings, when Dalí’s father would bring his son into Hotel Durán to eat. One shy boy (Dalí) looking at another shy boy (Lluís Durán Camps). Señor Durán would tell of the times when Dalí was grown, eagerly eating the Catalan fare created by the foremost Catalan chefs at Hotel Durán, the performances Dalí would give in the hotel restaurant, the special menus they created. With over a century of service, Hotel Durán continues to be at the forefront of hotel restaurants within the region. Hotel Durán continues to be highlighted in travel guides like ‘Pyrenees’ by Marc Dubin, where it is mentioned as three-star, and “top standard”(page 142). Señor Ramon Durán Juanola, set aside his busy schedule and journeyed with Honey and I, through his recollections of Salvador Dalí, as seen through his youthful eyes, growing in the knowledge that his grandfather, father and, later, he too were able to be a part of Salvador Dalí and Gala’s lives, and their connection to Hotel Durán. 128

Antique photograph, H

Hotel Duran, Figueres

Figueres, the capital of l’Alt Empordà, remains a most important city within Catalunya. It had already began to grow with the building of Castell de Sant Ferran (Sant Ferran castle), in the late 1700s. That castle is rumoured to have held 6,000 men and, in the stables, 500 horses in its heyday. Castell de Sant Ferran is also renown as the last Republican bastion in Catalunya, after the fall of Barcelona during the Spanish Civil War (1936 to 1939). The Civil War in which British poet Laurie Lee, British writer George Orwell, American writer Ernest Hemingway and Mexican muralist David Alfaro Siqueriros had fought alongside international brigades trying to stem the tide of fascism sweeping across Europe. The now much acclaimed Hotel Durán and Restaurant (in Figueres), itself once also a bastion against fascism, has been frequented by many international celebrities including, of course, Salvador Dalí and his wife Gala. The hotel, however, had very humble beginnings, as a travellers rest-stop, in the mid 1800s. Honey and I sat with the present owner, Señor Ramon Durán Juanola, one of the local gastronomy group calling themselves La Cuina del Vent (Cooking the Wind), in the now famous El Celler de Ca la Teta, a remnant from that original rest-stop, Ca la Teta (place of sisters). It was in that antique cellar that Salvador Dalí had entertained friends, saving them the torturous trip over the roller coaster ride of the road across the Pyrenees to his home in Port Lligat. Dali, Gala and hosts of friends were catered to by Señor Lluís Durán Camps, Ramon’s grandfather. The original travellers’ rest stop (Ca la Teta), was founded in 1855, in Career Vilafant, by two sisters, during a period known as Catalunya’s Renaixenca (Renaissance). It was seven years after Spain’s first railway 129

(1848) had begun and twenty-two years before Figueres first railway station (1877). Ca la Teta, was one of the meeting places, rest-stops and postal stops catered to travellers in and out of Figueres. Ca la Teta specialised in travellers into Catalunya’s interior, to places like Besalú and on to Banyoles, which was then a four hour journey away from Figueres. With the covering of the old disease-ridden river bed forming La Rambla, its open space and promenade, in 1864, the town began expansion. Joan Durán Hugas rented the small building previously known as Ca la Teta, calling it Fonda (the Inn) Durán and, in brackets, Antiga “Ca la Teta” (formerly House of the Aunties). As was traditional, the husband provided transport to other places while the wife organised food for busy travellers, thus began the Durán legend in Figueres. With the advent of La Rambla, and the small roads feeding it, the entrance to Fonda Durán was changed from Carrer Vilafant to where it is today, on Carrer Lasauca, absorbing with it the old Hotel Commerce. Later, in the 1930s, the property became known as Casa de Menjars (eating house) under the guidance of Señor Lluís Durán Camps. Hotel Durán grew with the growth of Figueres. To date, Hotel Durán has had many famous guests, including Maurice Chevalier and Josep Pla, but none had been more constant, nor more connected to Hotel Durán, than Salvador Dalí. Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dalí i Domènech (Salvador Dalí) was born in Figueres, May 11th, in 1904, and named after his father Salvador Dalí i Cusí, a lawyer, and after his late brother. The family lived on the 1st floor of number 20 (now number 6), Carrer Monturiol. In the Summer of 1912, the family moved to the top floor of Carrer Monturiol 24 (now number 10). Dalí’s older brother (Salvador Galo Anselmo Dalí Domènech), had been born on October 12th 1901, and died in 1903, nine months prior to Dalí’s birth. Dalí’s mother was Felipa Domènech I Ferrés. She died in 1921, aged 47. In 1963 Dalí had painted Portrait of My Dead Brother (now in the permanent collection of The Dali Museum, St. Petersburg, Florida, USA). There is a school photograph titled ‘Figueres, Calle del Palau’ (Palace street), where a band of children, boys with hats, girls in their buttondown dresses, pose. They are the alumni from 1914-1915 and 1915-1916, of the Figueres drawing school, Collegi dels Maristes (Marist Brothers College). The group from 1916 includes a twelve year old Salvador Dalí, and it is the same year that the young Dalí painted the oil and card ‘Landscape’. The gaggle of children pose somewhat impatiently for the cameraman, Jose Masdevall - whose Imprenta Libreria (literally printing library, or photo gallery) stands in the background of the image. By the age of thirteen Dalí was attending Figueres Institute High School. And, in 1917, the young Dalí began with Professor Juan Núñez Fernández, in the Municipal School of Drawing, Figueres. In the Summer of 1918 Dalí exhibited his paintings for the first time, in the lobby of the Municipal

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Casa de Menjars, aka Hotel Duran, Figueres

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Salvador Da

alĂ at school

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Hotel Durán’s El Celler de Ca la Teta

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Theatre in Figueres, and then again in 1919. When he was 15. Dalí and his parents visited Hotel Durán numerous times as the boy grew. In his manhood, freshly arrived from his sojourn in American (1940 - 1948), Dalí would continue his connection to Figueres and Hotel Durán. On his return to Europe, Dalí was to paint another in his ‘elephant series’, ‘Los Elefantes’, the first being ‘Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a Pomegranate a Second Before Awakening’, 1944. Each time he went to Figueres “Dalí would visit my grandfather, for lunch, or have parties. My grandfather would prepare all that he (Dalí) needed” said Ramon Durán Juanola. Hotel Durán had connections in France. Since the days of Spain’s Civil War, when the Figueres Durán family were split, with half the family studying gastronomy at the french border, and the other half keeping the Figueres hotel running, connections had been made in France. Since his years in Paris, Salvador Dalí had adored French culture. In Spain, at that time, only Hotel Durán could access French food, especially dairy products, French literature and magazines. It was to Hotel Durán that Dalí went to keep up with news and culture from France. Dalí also contacted Lluís Durán Camps for his kind assistance with his performances and asked various favours. Once Dalí was in need of feathers. Duck or goose feathers, “feathers were needed, feathers from cushions 0f Hotel Durán’s rooms”, observes Ramon Durán Juanola. Arturo Caminada, Dalí’s driver, was sent to obtain the feathers from Lluís Durán Camps, and to transport the hotel cushions to Port Lligat for the making of a film. Throughout his adult life Dalí was only able to rely on a few people. Arturo Caminada who had stayed with Dalí for 37 years was one, also Joan Vehí, who was with Dalí for 35 years and Lluís Durán Camps who had known Dalí since their schooldays together in Figueres. There are many anecdotes portraying the closeness of Dalí to Hotel Durán, but one in particular demonstrates Lluís Durán Camps’ visionary abilities. Seated in Hotel Durán’s El Celler de Ca la Teta, with Malaysian artist Honey Khor and myself, Ramon Durán Juanola explains “My grandfather (Lluís Durán Camps) had recognised Dalí as a painter who had an international reputation. My grandfather had approached the Mayor (of Figueres) to have an exposition of Dalí’s works, and talked with Dalí’s secretary Captain ( John Peter) Moore, to help Hotel Durán with an exposition of paintings or drawings, something in the town in which he (Dalí) was born. It was a small idea.” he said “The idea came from this table” remarked Ramon, taping the wooden table in El Celler de Ca la Teta, where we were sitting. “At this table were the Mayor of Figueres, Ramon Guardiola, my grandfather and Captain Moore, talking about what they can do, in this city, to celebrate Dalí.” he went on “Both Dalí and Gala had wanted to do something in Spain, maybe in Barcelona or in Madrid, but had not considered Figueres.” There were many ideas suggested but, once the idea had taken hold, Dalí had become fixated with doing something grand in the city in which he was born. So began the idea of creating what became known as the Dalí Theatre-Museum germinated.

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Over the years Hotel Durán had created many menus centred around Dalí’s love for Catalan and American food. Here is a selection…… A menu, dated August 12th, 1961

Gazpacho cortijero (cold tomato soup) Llomillo amb mongetes (beans with pork) Llagosta i Pollastre estil de Port Lligat (chicken styled lobster from Port Lligat) Boifaara dolca de L’ Empordà (sweet Empordà sausage) Flaones de Sant Pau (sweet pastries filled with cream) Vinos y champaña Perelada (wines from Peralada, and champagne) followed by coffee and liquors.

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Hotel Durán’S Creme Catalunya

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Redondo Iglesias Jamรณn (Round Churches Ham)

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Another Hotel Durán menu (September 22nd, 1967) de Delhi a Dali (Delhi to Dali), celebrating Dalí’s collaboration with Air India, who had just given Dalí a live baby elephant (Surus), features…..

El Melon con Jamon De Massanet de Cabrenys (melon with ham, a rural speciality) Los Pescados y Mariscos de Port Lligat (fish and seafood from Port Lligat) El Cordero de can Xicu a L’ast Rovellones de Pirineo (Mushrooms Pyrenees style) La Montanyeta en Llamas (flaming pastis) las Fruas Sopresa (fruit surprise) Champagne Perelada Cognacs and Spirits Coffee

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A van took the elephant to Dalí’s home in Port Lligat, where it was let lose in the gardens. Over night, the baby elephant ate as many of Dalí’s flowers and bushes as it could find. In 1971, Surus had outgrown his welcome and was placed in a zoo, in Barcelona, while awaiting a more permanent place in Valencia. In the November of 1970, Hotel Durán hosted a dinner in honour of Gala and Salvador Dalí. It was on the occasion of the initiation of works for the Dali Museum in Figueres. the menu ran…

Sopa de Ajo con Huevo Gratinada (Rosado Ampurdán) (Garlic Soup with Egg Gratin, with Pink local wine) Lubina Flambeada al Hinojo (Blanco Perelada Pescador) (Flambé sea bass with fennel, with White local wine) Chuleta de Ternera del Ampurdán a la Antigua (Champan Perelada) (Calf cutlet with local champagne) Turban Helado de Frambuesa (Raspberry Ice Cream Turban) Pastel Ampurdanes (local cake) Bomba Sorpresa (bomb surprise) Café Coñacs Licores. (coffee, cognac and liquors)

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Señor Lluís Durán Simon, the former owner of Hotel Durán (and Ramon’s father), remarks that the Dalís enjoyed “…soup slices of dry bread, garlic, a little olive oil, a sprig of thyme or mint, perhaps adding broth and a whole raw egg, well beaten, at the end. They particularly enjoyed the Spanish cold soup gazpacho or a simple consommé. Gala usually began her meal with a consommé containing sherry, she preferred it very cold, even if it had lumps.” Dalí and Gala liked the head and leg of veal, or pig‘s trotters boiled in a casserole, served with boiled potatoes and pesto. They ate paella, prawns and fresh Crayfish (but only the tails), mullet, sole, sea bass, sea bream, octopus, squid, sea urchins, mussels and local Catalunyan anchovies. Otherwise they might partake in lamb chops, or grilled beef filet with artichokes, eggplants or chips and, when in season, forest mushrooms like rovellones or rosinyols. Dalí and Gala ate traditional Catalan dishes such as roasted thrushes (also popular in rural Naples), plain omelette or dry sausage with beans. For dessert it could be the “Butifarra dolça of L’Emporda”, sausages pricked to prevent bursting during cooking, then place in a saucepan with a finger of water, a glass of muscatel, the rind of a lemon, sugar and cinnamon. They are cooked on low heat so that the sausages cook slowly and become sugar coated. When cooked they are placed on bread slices and served hot. It is a traditional dish which Dalí loved, and Hotel Durán often shares with its guests. At Hotel Durán, Dalí often partook of the local Peralada Castle wine. Castell de Peralada, where the wine is made, is approximately 11 kilometres from Figueres, and was Dalí’s favourite vinery. For the Dalís one, or two glasses, was enough. The area had a reputation enhanced by Carmelite monks who tended vineyards in the 14th century. In the 20th century it was Miquel Mateu, who acquired Peralada Castle in 1923, that brought back the prestige of Castell Peralada wines so beloved by Dalí . However, sometimes Dalí might prefer to drink garnatcha from the drinking vessel known as the porrón, though he was also known to pretend to, with his thumb over the pouring spout. After Gala’s death (in June 1982) Dalí retreated both from the world and from Hotel Durán. He died in Figueres where he was born, 1989, aged 84. His memory lingers in photographs and prints on Hotel Durán’s walls. His spirit encourages gastronomic delights such as the annual Tastets surrealists, and his bronze bust greets visitors as they enter the hotel from the street. Hotel Durán is not all about Salvador Dalí, its own gastronomic star shines very brightly, but there remains a long link between the Dalís and the Duráns which, inevitably, will always be there.

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one woman

Every so often a book appears that reveals and illuminates a project that might otherwise remain largely unknown by the outside world: â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Colors of Cambodiaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; is such a book. This is a highly personal and passionate account written by Martin Bradley and illustrated by Pei Yeou Bradley of her encounter with a remarkable art-based project in and around Siem Reap in Cambodia, and how she was drawn into practical involvement with the children for whom the project exists. The book shows how a small NGO run by William Gentry in Siem Reap has been able to reach out to children in local schools, some in areas of great poverty, through the medium of art, and to give them hope for the future in a country that has suffered so much. The children and their families who are drawn into the project prove how art can cross all borders of language and culture. The book also tells of how Malaysian children and their parents have been encouraged to support the project and to become involved with the children and their work.

This is a highly personal and passionate account written by Martin B remarkable art-based project in and around Siem Reap in Cambodia, for whom the 144

nâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s journey

And there is the additional touch of magic as Pei Yeou and Martin tell of their meeting and of how he too was drawn into the story, and contributes to it, and of how it changed his life. His sensitive words and poetry add another colour to this unique book In a world in which the news is bad more often than not, this inspirational book tells a story of optimism and success, and of how dreams can become true. Richard Noyce, Artist and Writer, Wales, July 2012

contact honeykhor@gmail.com martinabradley@gmail.com

Bradley and illustrated by Pei Yeou Bradley of her encounter with a , and how she was drawn into practical involvement with the children project exists. 145

TAPAS The (not so) Easy-Jet whisked me briefly over the Balearic Sea from Milan (Italy), to Barcelona (Spain). Flying to Barcelona via Milan was a new experience. I would normally have arrived from Dubai. Taking the train to Figueres though, was familiar enough as was the walk from Figueres old train station, to my hotel. I was in Figueres, Catalonia, Spain, for many things. One of which was to catch this year's Tastets Surrealistes, occurring in various eateries across the town from 9th June to 9th July 2016 inclusive. The culinary phenomenon known as Tastets Surrealistes, now in its fourth year, is a yearly festival solely devoted to the eccentricities of Salvador Dali, as well as a friendly culinary competitiveness

between eateries in and around Figueres. It was my second year to be amazed, delighted and sometimes disappointed with those frequently, but not constantly, imaginative bites known as tapas. There were twenty four eateries participating in the month long event, spring boarding with a launch/tasting evening near the Dali Museum. I came across the word 'tapas', hailing from the Sanskrit verb to 'tap', meaning 'to burn'. That traditional (Eastern) interpretation of the word 'tapas' translates as a 'fiery discipline'. However, of greater interest to 146

gastronomes is the Spanish word 'tapas' (tapes in Catalan, also Pinchos). These are small meals frequently taken with alcohol. They may be found in many bars and small eateries throughout Spain, and now also the world. The only fiery discipline usually encountered might be those with hotter than usual Padrรณn Peppers.

Tapa (plural tapas), in Don Quixote's Castilian Spanish means lid, and to eat tapas is to tapear. Many countries now enjoy something similar to the tapa. Greece and the Middle East have small dishes called 'Meze', China has 'Dim Sum' (bites to touch the heart) and Japan has the ubiquitous 'Sushi'. Simply put, a tapa is a small bite of food. It's exact origin is unclear, but the name suggests that it may have originated from those slices of bread which were traditionally used as lids over Spanish wine glasses, possibly to keep insects and dust out. Myths abound concerning tapas' origin. One myth, in particular, claims that the illness of a 13th century Castilian king (Alfonso X, often referred to as the Wise) required him to eat small snacks with his wine, between meals, to aid his recovery. It is further claimed that a law was passed saying that wine or beer served in Castilian taverns, had to be accompanied by food, thus emulating the idiosyncrasies of the King. 147

The launch of Tastets Surrealistes 2016

It was a balmy, and maybe also a barmy evening of music and tasting highlights from twenty four menus dedicated to Tastets Surrealistes. The cheery Catalonian evening thronged with a healthy crowd paying to sample tastes of the presenting 'Tastets'. Local Catalan beer company Inedit (2008) sponsored the enterprise. They enabled their beer to flow not like water, but like the semi-controlled Spanish alcohol substance that it is. Flying mammals and a proximity to the undisputed king of Surrealists, hinted that the whole affair was somewhat batty, but in a nice, refined, Catalonian way. This year, getting into the swing of things, I set out to sample four participating restaurants - Duran, Dynamic, Lizarran and Sideria Xots, out of the twenty-four available treats. This is the full list in catalogue order.... Bon Retorn; Cal Music; Calid Cafe; Can Jordi; Can Modest; Coordenates; Duran Restaurant; El Dynamic Cerveseria; El Motel; El Pati; El Vermut; Granada Vins; La Queixlada; La Quinta Forca; Lizarran; Mas Pau; Meson Asador Castello 4; Montserrat; Nou Continental; Nou Imperial; Nou Saboya; Sideria Txots; Transit and 100 Montaditos. 148

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Food galore

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Lobster Paella at Hotel Durรกn Restaurant

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It all began with a Lobster Paella. It was the evening of our arrival back to Figueres. I was hungry. As usual, two people found it difficult to finish the sheer enormity of that enormous seafood dish. Another day I tried the lunch tapas - a six dish platter of traditional Catalan fare. It had been re imagined in the way that only the Duran Restaurant can. Peas and blood sausage lay next to creamy soup, one large anchovy rested on tomato rubbed bread, ham drizzled with what seemed like magic, fried quail egg with chips and a small slice of sausage beckoned. The whole was finished off with a different ham on tomato rubbed toasted bread, washed down with Damm Lemon 6-4, Cerveza & Limon (lemon beer). The platter was tasty and a tad Surrealist in itself, but this was not their Tastets Surrealistes platter, I had that to look forward to. A fresh faced young waiter brought this year’s Tastets Surrealistes platter to the table. Last year’s flamboyant bread ‘moustache’ was tamed slightly, but the El Rossinyol Anthromorf (Chanterelle mushroom mousse with bread moustache) was an amazing start to the six miniature dishes. El Gaspatxo Cubic (a solid cube of gazpacho soup, with crudités) was as surprising as it was delicious and L’Espectre del Foi Sobre Paisatge Verd I Terra de Xocolata (a micuit of foie with mint jelly and chocolate grounds) shocking, in a very luscious way. L’Obsessio Reconstructiva dels ous Dins El Seu Niu Fossil (quail eggs with red chimichurri, Iberian ham powder and a kataifi nest) tasted much better than it looked, and La Metamorfosi del Salmo Que Voila set Fromage Fresc (smoked salmon with fresh cream cheese and a small sample of dill) prepared me for the final dish. L’Ambivalencia de la Mandonguilla Esferica I La Sopa Quadrada (cuttlefish sandwich containing meatballs) was an absolute delight. Just the right amount of rich taste for the small bite. And then, it was over. Unlike other Tastets Surrealistes platters in Figueres which catered for couples, Duran Restaurant’s was a single serving platter. What it lost over price, it more than made up for in taste. Unfortunately Duran Restaurant set the benchmark. This meant that other eateries presenting Tastets Surrealistes had a very high standard to reach. 155

Quail eggs with red chimichur

Chanterelle mushroom mousse with bread moustache

Smoked salmon w

Micuit of foie with mint jelly and chocolate grounds

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rri, Iberian ham powder and a kataifi nest

Cuttlefish sandwich containing meatballs

Solid cube of gazpacho soup, with cruditĂŠs

with fresh cream cheese and a small sample of dill)

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Solid cube of gazpach

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ho soup, with cruditĂŠs

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After an excellent platter from Duran Restaurant, I was really not expecting too much in the way of exciting food from the rest. Maybe that was a good thing. I hadn't been to El Dynamic Cerveseria before. I had seen it from its opposite neighbour, Lizarran. It was at the Lizarran tapas bar that I had had some good tapas, on my first few days back in Figueres. Both eateries can be found on Monturiol, just past the end of La Rambla, and easy to reach. Entering the front door of Dynamic, I was assaulted by ranks of potential tapas. The intriguing ingredients were stacked, some inside glass cabinets, many on top, catching my eye, mind and my salivating imagination. The busy popcorn machine greeted my olfactory system with its enticingly warm sweetness. But it was the Tastets Surrealistes that I had come for. That and a beer temptingly called Desperados, manufactured in Spain and boasting an added spicy, lemony, tequila taste. The beer was served bottle open, with a slice of lemon resembling the fuse of a bomb wedged in the top. It was all that I had hoped it to be. Ostra Poligàmica I Extravagant (raw minced beef on a bed of sea oyster) was a surprise which turned out to be pleasant, not just to the eyes, though those too. Remolatxa Cabrejada (goat cheese coloured by beetroot, with vegetable shoots) was tantalising. My eyes said 'this is raspberry ice cream', my taste buds said 'soft cheese'. I was confused, or was that the Desperados Tequila beer talking? I didn't know. It was most surreal. Cotna Dolça De Bacallà (deep fried cod skin) was, perhaps, a crunchiness too far. It was reminiscent of pork scratchings, or Japanese deep fried salmon skin, and a little too hard in places for my ageing teeth. Espàrrecs Surrealists (Chick pea hummus with germinated asparagus shoots) presented a mini furrowed garden of humus, 'planted' with different vegetable shoots. The whole was lightly sprinkled with what appeared to be paprika. It was as appetising as any hummus I've tasted to date. Sushi Burguesa de Mar (seafood sushi burger) was not an original idea. A quick search on Instagram renders over 4,000 posts of something very similar. It was basically a mini burger shaped sushi, with very little surprise. It may have been quite subtle, as I didn't quite get the Dali connection from that tapa, other than Dali's house was beside the sea at Port Lligat. Calamars en Autodefensa (Squid cooked in squid ink tempura) is self explanatory really, but somewhat of a shock to see black batter, perhaps referencing the usual deep fried squid rings. Maybe the organisers had heard the story of Salvador Dali painting with squid ink, with the ink still in the squid. Overall, some surprises, but a little too inconsistent. 161

Raw minced beef on a bed of sea oyster

Goat cheese coloured by beetroot, with vegetable shoots

Deep fried cod skin

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Squid cooked in squid ink tempura

Seafood sushi burger

Chick pea hummus with germinated asparagus shoots

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Raw minced beef on a bed of sea oyster

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Goat cheese coloured by beetroot, with vegetable shoots

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Lizarran produces some of the best tapas in Figueres, at reasonable prices. I was interested to see what they could come up with for Tastets Surrealistes. Ensalalíquida (liquid Russian salad) was true to its name as a thick liquid with crumbed cheese. A wooden cocktail spatula pierced a brace of olives. Russian, no doubt, due to Dali's wife, Gala, being of Russian origin. Aside from the shocking taste, and I don't say that in a kind way, there was little really surrealist about the dish. Pa amb Tomata ó Tomata amb Pa? (tomato tartar with basil on toasted bread) was just that, tomato on Spanish baguette, with a little rosemary and olive oil. Tasty, but not in any earth shattering manner. Then came L’ou Empatatat al Plat (ember-baked potato filled with free-range egg). A baked potato gouged out and egg replacing the potato filling. It was interesting, but not surreal in any sense. The Brienyol (fried Brie cheese) was deep fried, and visually reminded me of deep fried tofu. The taste was quite delicious especially when the deep fried cubes rubbed into the sauce, which may have been raspberry. Surreal, Dalinian, probably not. Botiburguesa dolce de L'Emporda (sausage burger with candy floss and baked apple). I put this here as it appears on the original menu, though the ingredients suggest it is dessert. The white candy floss was certainly a surprise, but sweet, much too sweet for my teeth. That, coupled with the overbearing sweetness of the apple sauce, made this dish very difficult to eat. The sausage burger (underneath the candy floss) got lost in more than one sense. Children with a sweeter tooth might enjoy this. I didn't. Finally there was La Cópula del Bacalla i la Gamba (cod and prawn brochette). The dish was pleasant enough in itself. The cod was delicately cooked, the prawn just right. No surprises, just nice tasting food. The Lizarran Tastets Surrealistes was, overall, just tasty tapas with, sadly, very little in the way of Surrealist content. 167

Tomato tartar with basil on toasted bread

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Cod and prawn broche

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Fried Brie cheese

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Sausage burger with candy floss and baked apple

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Liquid Russian salad

Ember-baked potato filled with free-range egg

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Spanish cider

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The final of this quartet is Sideria Txots. From its spectacular culinary high the previous year, including their surreally edible eyeballs, this year's Tastets Surrealistes platter had a lot to live up to. With all the will in the world I just cannot say that the platters were up to expectations. This year's Tastets Surrealistes were largely uninspired, aside, that is from the dessert, and the decidedly surreal names. The Metamorfosi l'ou tal com Surt (poached egg with mashed potato in filo pastry) was the highlight of the first course. Unfortunately the mashed potato filling made the filo pastry undesirably moist and the egg, though nicely runny, had little taste. Maybe some rock salt could have lifted the experience. The Angus Black Burguer en Metamorfosi (mini Black Angus Burger) was very dry. The Orgia Marina (fresh Anchovy with cod in potpourri) was far too salty, the Uhmmmm - Us (lentil hummus, rocket and black sesame) was no surprise, and the Carn O Peix, Peix O Peix? (tuna with stew sauce and alfalfa sprout) just too boring. Those two platters were visually uninteresting, and their taste uninspiring. The final item, I De Postres.....Fuet (chocolate... olive oil and salt) presented chocolate resembling a Catalan sausage. It also resembled something less delicate too. Saving the best until last is a risky strategy. The taste was the one surprising thing about that platter. The chocolate, eaten on a bread bed drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with rock salt was the saving grace, but a little too late to temp me back to Sidreria Txots for another year. The whole was an interesting experience. It was great fun twisting my taste buds hither and thither, challenging my taste expectations and playing with my senses. There was, however, a feeling that in this fourth year Tastets Surrealistes was decidedly running out of steam. Having said that, I wonder what shall transpire in a twelve month. 173

Poached

Mini Black Angus Burger

Tuna with stew sauce and alfalfa sprout

Lentil hummus, rocket and bla

174

egg with mashed potato in filo pastry

Fresh Anchovy with cod in potpourri

ack sesame

175

Chocolate... ol

176

live oil and salt

177

Dusun Pub Books by Martin

178

Bradley

blications

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CAMBODIA CHINA ITALY

WITH MARTIN BRADLEY

MALAYSIA PHILIPPINES SPAIN 180