Diary note 50: A mask

28 XII 2021

Art dominated our time yesterday.

At midday we arrived at an old factory building, that by the city has been delivered to the visual arts as a workplace, technically equipped. And coordinated by the visual artist Quirin Baümler, from Regensburg in the South.

He himself is the son of an artist, who used to make sculptures for public places, like churches.

Quirin proved to be an endless smoker of self-rolled cigarettes, and when lighted with a match his face was very sensitive. He has three grown-up children. He drove for five hours to reach our appointment.

We were there at the workshop to cast a mold of Michaela’s face, as Salome. It was terribly cold and I feared the mental structure of the actor would collapse under the burden of having his face encased in several layers of chalk or whatever. But he proved gritty and determined, sitting in a chair with a light cloth over him and his face hidden by plaster. I took several photographs.

The craftsman trusted me and showed me his ceramic work. One showed a broken view of the sky at night, with a hazy moon and stars in an dark ultramarine sky. He had not been satisfied with the work and left it unfinished. He confided he frequently had difficulty finishing his work.

Among the rubble a mask was staring up as if forgotten, covered with dust. He said it was the death-mask of his father.

Later we all ate a “boulette” in a café that also served as a local cinema.