De retour à Paris

Alors qu’est-ce que ça fait de rentrer à Paris?

Hm, je ne sais pas trop en tous cas il y a des choses qui m’ont manqué et que je retrouve avec joie aujourd’hui ici. Des choses personnelles et puis d’autres comme la culture. Je me souviens de ses gens d’Afrique du Sud incrédules qui ne comprennait pas que cela puisse etre si important.

Ca l’est. Et j’étais comblé hier que se tienne la nuit des musées, à laquelle j’ai participé pour la première fois.

Cet après midi, expo Dave LaChapelle et ses photos à carractère sex trach et acidulés; un peu decevant: rien de nouveau et peux d’oeuvres.

Qu’à cela ne tienne, ce sera bientôt peut être notre tour.

Be Eaten

So this is it: my last weekend here, another three-day break to enjoy the south-african funfair. It didn’t take me long to decide what I should do to close this memorable chapter of my life: one trip with the beautiful freaks, a tour in real life for a taste of how bad things can get. Kruger here I am; Wam Bam!

So I look for a nice lodge and book a big room for a spoiled boy right next to the park. We arrive Saturday, a little after lunch and take our time to slowly immerge ourselves into the deep thick sent of the wild. We sit next to the pool until the sun gets red and that zebras and warthogs come nearby to sip water before the night. We leave the lodge just before sunset for a night-game-drive in the park. We look for beasts hidden in the dark; apart from lions eating a giraffe in the distance and night insects big like your hand we did not see much more than the usual herbivores.

Before sunrise, the following day, we are already driving to the park with our ranger Heinrich, and his 2.7 tones four-wheel drive. We ride around in the clear light and fresh air with tea and much expectation. Our guide knows a lot and sees so far away it feels he could foresee the future. We quickly start to spot all kinds of odd looking animals (wildebeests, rhinos, giraffes…). I have seen them times and times before but this time it is different, this times it is goodbye.

We drove for twelve hours, stopped a few times for breakfast cooked camping-style – hanks Heinrich – on top of a mountain overlooking a flat field as wide as Manhattan, split in half by a large river where hippos rest and kudus come drink fearfully. We have seen many things that day, a lot that I will not remember, but that’s how things go. I will mostly keep in mind an encounter with a huge alpha male elephant walking on the road. Our guide wanted to get him off of it so he parked the 4×4 in the middle of the road. The beast walked around the vehicle at every try, until finally it got fed up, stopped and looked at us. Although we were sitting in that nearly 3 tones jeep, 2m above the road, the animal still looked huge to us. The words of our driver were echoing in the back of my mind: “We weigh 3 tones in this car, an average elephant weighs 7 tones; for him flipping the car his as easy as tossing a water bucket”. This was no average male.

That’s how it is over there: the stronger is always right. We human are little useless things with no natural defence against nature’s most basic threats. Over there we have just a little more resistance than green grass and harmless-insects. It is difficult to feel how powerful nature is until you get next to it, into it. These animals we usually see on TV or at the zoo have powers far beyond what I could have imagined. Any of them running one a half time quicker the fastest human – you cannot understand unless you have seen it in reel; any predator able to cut through bones like us through carrots human – you cannot understand unless you have seen it in reel; Sight, smell, claws, poison, weight, stamina, you name it it’s all very impressive to the point that even in the biggest car with the best gun you still feel powerless. But wait. Why do we want to know about all that? Why do we need to hear stories about people getting killed and what horrible things hyenas and hippos will do to you if they can? Why does humankind need to be in touch with such violence?

For the last day we wanted to do a morning game-walk but unfortunately all of them were canceled as a hippo had attacked a group the previous week. A woman nearly died and several were injured. Instead we stayed at the lodge surrounded by zebras, and monkeys eating bananas.

And that was it, as fast as it came it was gone. I closed this window on life and came back to our reality.

Elephant in Kruger Park from damien.ldp on Vimeo.

Fear facts:

• A hyenas will eat you alive, no time to kill you. With a group of four/five beasts they will just rip your arms legs apart for each of hem to eat in their corner.
• Hippos are the animals inflicting the most casualties upon humans in Africa, even though they do not eat meat. There are just bad tempered animals.
• A buffalo has so much adrenaline that it seems impossible to kill. Lions (200kg) would need to be five or six together to take one down; that is why a old male buffalos have usually faced and survived several lions attack. A bullet would typically not stop a buffalo unless it hits the brain or the spine.

Into the Wild… Coast

Two weekends ago was a four day break. My friend Alec and I decided to go on a trip on the wild side; strip naked of any artificial and superficial aspirations we headed for the southern Kwazulu Natal. Boy did we meet Danger enough in such a short period of time.

After a good day of work we left Thursday at 4pm in our white polo; a snazzy car with no light indicators and a smashed side view mirror. At 6.15pm Alec was asleep. At 8pm I wake up Alec for him to drive a little while I rest. At 8.15pm I drive again because Alec was falling asleep on the road. At 12.20pm, while cruising across the Drakensberg I wonder where we are going to sleep as we don’t know what town we are heading for, nor when we will arrive. At 2am we park in Port Saint Johns – 1.20hours of driving for Alec, the rest for me, yes please.We sleep in a tent on the lawn of the backpackers.

The next day it rains…

The next day the sun is up, we pack our things and go. We start walking along the shore heading for the light house. Then things start to get complicated. We walk on steep hills, with the Indian ocean on one side and the wild on the other. At times we follow the rocky beachs: we walk across a deserted camp with bleeding barking dogs, when we turn around we see people with machetes and ropes hanging from the cliff nearby. Pirates! Oh dear.

At times we climb on top of cliffs and follow narrow paths following the top of endless hills. We get lost from time to time, get stuck rather and look around for a moment until we find the right way.

Danger Zone

Wild kids

Sometimes we climb, sometimes we slide, we rest, we eat or drink. Sometimes we meet people and sometimes we feel like alone in the world, in the wild.

After seeing civilization a second time, when reaching a famous beach down south, we head for our final destination, hidden god-knows-where. I see a snake looking at me when climbing a slippery rock – meet Mr Green Snake, very likely to be harmless, but on the moment you only think about all these horrible stories you heard.

A little later things get worse and I we start walking on grassy paths: on one side a 20m fall on sharp rocks and its bursting waters infested with man-eating sharks, on the other a slippery 50° angle grass hill whispering to you time and again, I will make you fall, I will make you fall like you have no idea, and me and my 15kg bag in the middle with only supported my unreliable shoes, my eager vertigo and Alec commenting on the marmots down below, yes, 50m down below.

I did it, and I am still alive and able to right these lines. A few hours later, after another perilous performance, we decide that time has come for us to set the camp. The sun is getting low. Alec points to the top of a mountain, says it’ll be safer: far away from any ill-intentioned fellow. I nod and we go. Within an hour we arrive breathless to the top. We sit for a moment drink a little – I said a little we only have half a litre for the night and the walk back. Thirst! Oh dear.

We eat our little simple meal, in the middle of the high yellow grass, with the ocean on our left, the sun set in front of us and… what’s that on top of the hill on the right? Pirates! Oh dear. They can see us like a big black fly in a thick mushroom soup. No worries. Or should we. Alec warns me that people have warned him to be careful of where he camps as people are not always friendly with strangers. History of violence. And good night. Ok, ok.

The night is already very dark, but the full moon shines enough to light our surroundings. We hadn’t been lying quiet for an hour that I start hearing voices. I sneak a peak outside and see people walking down the hill in front of us (so getting nearer) I wake up Alec. He confirms and we wait. It’s difficult to see where they head to; after a while there voices are drowned in the sound of the waves and we go back to sleep. And good night. Ok, ok.

A long while later, I am still thinking about this situation we are in. Oh dear. For no particular reason I decide to have another look. An there, as obvious as can be, I see a man running down he hill in front of us with a light. I wake up Alec again as he requested. He starts hiding his money and credit cards, keeps a few bills in his pocket and says we should wait for him outside. And so we do, we stand in the warm night, listening to the wind, waiting for the guy and his machete to come and impress us with his smart moves and his vivid anger. He never showed up.

The net day we walked back, looking at the sea to see some sharks and people running out of the water when lifeguards whistled. We slept on the lawn of the backpackers again and left at sunrise for a long while beautiful – but long – drive home.

When I think about these joyful moments I can think of at least five times where I could have died, if I had had a little less luck. But that is why Africa is so great, you are responsible for your own actions and no-one will come – in time – to rescue you. You have the freedome of living your life as it pleases you to even if you have a enormous chance of getting in irremediable troubles.

Myanmar or Burma ? (pictures)

Paya Shewdagon at dawn – Yangon

Sacred text in Burman – Paya Shewdagon, Yangon

Paya Shewdagon at dawn – Yangon

People embarking ferry between Mandalay and Bagan

Burma people with traditional makeup

Hudreds of pagodas – Bagan

Sunset at Bagan

Inlay lake farmer

Canoe at Inlay lake

Fisherman – Inlay lake

Fangio, our boat driver at Inlay lake

Malaisie ou l’échappée ardue

Extraits de mon carnet de voyage à Kuala Lumpur.

“Le lendemain matin, je suis plus fatigué que la veille au soir. Cette sensation désagréable d’étourdissement permanent et d’aphasie des choses ne se défait pas de moi de tout le jour.” (à propos du décalage horaire)

“Depuis hier je me rends compte que mon quotidien est fragile; que si l’on en retire les heures passer au travail, à dormir et les occupations peu passionnantes qui passent le temps en attendant la prochaine occupation, il ne reste rien.
En vacance, je me refuse catégoriquement à passer le temps comme d’ordinaire, mais finalement, seul, je m’ennuie. Je réalise ceci ici avec d’autant plus d’évidence qu’il y a peu à faire dans cette ville autre que consommer (un repas, un monument, une vue, la mode, les souvenirs…). C’est difficile de se retenir de consommer, difficile de s’empêcher de passer le temps.
Et puis non, il faut lâcher prise et perdre les habitudes du travail ; arrêter d’essayer d’optimiser et d’être productif. Passer du temps à ne rien faire, travailler à être improductif et regarder le temps s’écouler hors de soit ; regarder le temps s’égrainer et les gens s’affairer à le retenir en vain. »

Exhibition by Tany – Nov. 27th – Johannesburg

Exhibition : Paintings by TANY

Opening on Thursday 27 November at 6pm

Yellow Frog by Tany

Colours ! Red, Gold and Green. Fed from the start with fresh pop culture, witty advertisement and subversive entertainment Tany has created a world of his own ; where paint and stories come together in a string of unexpected and characteristic portraits. Hip, hop. Come and see this family album of people chanting cacophonously in his imagination.

So who’s He ? The big boy Tany : a Frenchman born in the 80’s and educated in Paris. It’s not what you think ; the multicultural character travels around the globe – hop, hop – to better understand his inner mechanisms. On his journey, stimulated by powerful foreign aesthetics he started creating relentlessly. That is when Tany’s world was created using reminiscences of Damian Hurst, Klimt, Alechinsky, Zeng Fanzhi or Bacon’s works. Soon Tany became father to the dejavu-production.com project, his virtual gallery of multi-disciplinary artistic creations. Welcome to Tany’s land. This November, The Alliance Française will be exhibiting his work for the first time in Johannesburg. Ta-Da !

At the edge of his reasoning, things come deconstructed and meaningless. They float around in his mind and it is unclear to him how they should fit back in. So he mingles, he mixes and what comes out is what you will witness… and most importantly what you will make of it.

(The exhibition continues until Saturday 6 December.)

Venue
Gallery Gerard Sekoto
Alliance Française of Johannesburg
17 Lower Park Drive corner Kerry Road
Parkview – opposite Zoo Lake

Gallery hours
Monday – Thursday : 9 am – 8 pm
Friday : 9 am – 6 pm
Saturday : 9 am – 1 pm

For more information
culture.jhb@alliance.org.za
011 646 1169

Sophisticated Fun

Raffle, raffle. Ladies and gentlemen choose your fun !

- So what do you want to do this weekend?
- Ski.
- I bet you do, fool!

Africa, a land full of surprises. Friday night, leave Johannesburg towards the sunny south; go through Frankfurt and Bethlehem, cross the border to Lesotho, make your tires squeak in tight curves of the mountains for a while and there you are: a ski resort. Ta-da!

Ski in Lesotho with Anne-Elodie

Wonder. You might. It’s not a ski resort per say. It’s a large band of snow with everything you would find in any other ski resort, but in minute quantities.

Top notch boards and a ski tow. Chalets and warm wine. Snow, sun and twisted ankles. Everything, I told you.

The next day we go for a walk. Meet Oscar, the crazy drunk running the lodge – the previous night, he spent half an hour talking to a 2 year old girl like Papa Shultz – so, he tells me, you climb up the water fall, then you reach the top of this mountain, and then you follow the ridge until you are tired. Then you turn and walk back. Capito?

Wam bam. Three hours of hiking, a chocolate bar, two litters of water, two border posts and 4 hours drive later, here we are back home. Johannesburg.

Ski in Africa on August the 2nd, it was not on my to-do list but I’ll add it and tick it off. Done.

What next? Kilimanjaro or Scuba diving. Why not both?

The Kingdom In The Sky

We drove south for seven hours until there was no tar on the road anymore. We continued on a dirt track winding in the mountains. The path soon disappeared, melted with the surrounding dry pastures. We followed a rocky trail leading to a bridge over an icy spring. We couldn’t get any further by car. We stopped for lunch and continued walking up the mountain for a few hours. At the top of a 3000m peak, we had finally reached our destination. Surrounded by the magnificent views of golden wheat fields and white topped mountains in the far back, I saw my first African snow. A 10×10cm square of white cold hidden in the shadow of a bush.

No. No, no, no. That’s not a way to put it.

We went to Lesotho to escape civilisation. Yes, that’s why. We reached our lodge, on the flank of a rocky cliff (just after the bridge over the icy spring) literally at the end of the road. Hm. Ok, but it’s very difficult to describe the kind of experience these three days were. Imagine a place with no cars, no roads, yellow grass and white corn; hairy cows; shepherds and horse riders wearing colourful blankets, plastic boots, scary cowls and wacky hats. Mountains and waterfalls. Freezing at night, hot in the sun, life calmly following the pace of daylight. In bed at nine, up at six, endless walks in the immensity. The last day we went horse ridding in the wild. I couldn’t describe it well enough; I’ll only say it’s the most beautiful place I have been in Africa yet. Lesotho. The Kingdom in the sky.

Anecdote! In your face. On the first night at the local restaurant we warm ourselves up in front of the fire. Ooh, soothing. A Chinese comes sits next to us and chats, high there how are you doing. It’s hard for me to understand each and every word he is saying because of is edgy accent. Like stabbing quickly a canvas, it doesn’t make a lot of sense but you get a rough understanding of what’s being represented. He soon leaves, nice to talk to you, see you soon, we put together what we have understood and conclude that he is a student from China who came to work for a season or two in Lesotho (in this place four hours away from any minor city). Elementary my dear Watson. Well this is P-culiar. But it’s not like I care.
On the last day we walk to the closest village to buy traditional blankets. It is the last town before the end of the trail; it is a small town but the last supply point before getting into the wild. As we get there, to our astonishment, three of the four shops (warehouse) were held by Chinese people. A population of a dozens of Asian came all the way from their far away Empire of the Middle to take over the business in that little town in Lesotho. I smell something fishy. Elementary my dear Watson. By the way that trout was D-licious.
So what do I think about that? Globalisation! In your face. (I am still wondering though, if it is really cheaper to send all the way to south of Africa some Chinese cashiers than to higher an autochthon, bearing in mind that Lesotho is a poor country. And if not then what is their motivation?)

I Miss Childhood

I have just released a new painting on the theme of clash between childhood and adulthood, it is entitled ” I Miss Childhood”. It is an oil on canvas work, with very faint colors of green and crème contrasting with gold and black. The set up of the composition was inspired by Klimt.

For your eyes only: “I Miss Childhood”

More paintings of Tany @ www.dejavu-production.com

African Party