Writing to someone closes the physical space between two people. Words fill that space. The written word has always carried more weight than the spoken word because "writing fights memory - we write so that we don't forget".
> >, 2006
graphite, ballpoint pen and pencil
color on cardboard
16.2 x 10.7 cm
Photo: Amelia Blanc
The person who said this was named Frédéric Bruly Buabré. I bought this postcard of a painting by him when I was on a student exchange program in Switzerland last summer. I managed to drag a few friends to a museum called "Collection de l'Art Brut" in Lausanne, which houses artwork (paintings and sculptures of all kinds, made of all sorts of material, using all sorts of techniques) created by people with mental disorders - people who went insane (debatable what that means) or were retained in mental asylums. Since my visit, I have read up a lot about outsider art (art that lies outside the boundaries of normal culture) but I don't claim to fully understand even one thousandth of what it really comprises.
All I know is that this image, made by Frédéric Bruly Buabré - an Ivorian artist from the West Coast of Africa - is a memoir of a period of curiosity and introspection in my own insignificant little life. All his drawings are part of a larger spectrum called World Knowledge. It is said that he received a vision in 1948, that influenced all his work.
"On March 11, 1948, “the heavens opened up before my eyes and seven colorful suns described a circle of beauty around their Mother-Sun, I became Cheik Nadro: ‘He who does not forget."
La montée de l'humanité au ciel: un nuage
blanc figurant un < < enfant >> >, 2006
mine de plomb, stylo a bille et crayon
de couleur sur carton
16,2 x 10,7 cm
Photo: Amélie Blanc
Collection de l'Art Brut, Lausanne
Translation from French:
The rise of humanity to heaven: a white cloud contained a < < enfant >graphite, ballpoint pen and pencil
color on cardboard
16.2 x 10.7 cm
Photo: Amelia Blanc
Collection de l'Art Brut, Lausanne
How little I understand about what goes on in his mind, and how much I wish I could. They were running an interview of this charming, happy African man in a corner of the museum on a television set, and I memorized his words and scribbled them down before I could forget. In explanation of one of his paintings, he said (in his own language):
When the earth and sun make love, they create rain. All sorts of things (life) spring forth from the earth - children, trees, animals.
After some looking around, I stumbled upon this website: http://www.caacart.com/html/frederic-bruly-bouabre.html. If anything about this blog post interests you, then go ahead and explore some more. I give you my word, you won't be disappointed.
I am not a fan of art, but i sure love the words.. writing to someone, or even about someone, is more permanent than just thinking about the person..
ReplyDeleteI love how humble you are. :)
ReplyDelete