The Art Cellar

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At the least expected moment, in the least expected way, inspiration comes.

It was time to clean out Lescure’s vaults, to get rid of the trail of debris left by the builders. To thin the pile of bags with lumpy cement way beyond its shelf life, to piece together the pipes and frames of various scaffolding.

Quite the chore, but with plenty of uninterrupted time to dream and ponder. As Thomas was hauling and carting huge blocks of natural stone, my mind was on theatre. I love thinking like a set designer; it’s the simplest and quickest way to make a space look interesting. So today we have a beautiful old door covering up the eyesore of electrical conduits and a ravished Greek goddess rediscovering her body confidence in a dark nook. Her skin as dimpled and beautifully tarnished as the walls that hide her gaze.

Best of all, we now have the smallest art gallery in Lescure’s underground world. Upon suggestion of a curator friend who imagined a dash of modern yellow in the rubble, I put a bright metal stool against the blueish green of water-damaged wall. Architects have come and gone, construction workers have come past, and still the terrace sheds a waterfall of tears into this part of the vault. Regina Verhagen’s ceramic tear shaped drops (a gift for Thomas from another artlover friend) bear witness to Lescure’s sorrow and our increasing anxiety about the unstoppable leakages. Art as solace. From now on, we’re finding calm through creativity and letting art lead our response to troubled renovation worries.

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