The Vestibule.

That vision of the Vestibule of Inferno where the Futiles hang out has been troubling me lately...

All is well. Halimatou has bought a new fridge for the team in Timbuktu. They  digitized 518 images last week. In Djenne the crepissage is taking place on my house and the studio. After painstaking  research at the  V&A  library I  have successfully convinced the curators at Auckland castle that we should use the Woodchester Roman pavement as a model for the floorcloth I will paint for the dining room this summer. There seems to be no clouds on the horizon. All is well.  Ho hum. 

But I feel as if I am in a waiting room. The only thing is I don’t know what I am waiting for. The Next Thing.  Life has always moved  forward through crises of various  kinds:  a problem needs solving.  My response has normally been to hurl myself into a creative frenzy.  In 1980 I put my life back in order by spending three days  and nights by my sewing machine making a spectacular pair of patchwork brocade New Romantics pirate trousers.  Another crisis made me take up petit point embroidery and I eventually saved myself through a sofa cushion which took a month to sew- but not until I spiralled into a psychopathic  embroidery frenzy when  my fingers started to bleed...

Dear Jeremiah invited me to get over an emotional catastrophe about 12 years ago  by working on an art exhibition  (it became  the very first at Europe House 12 Star Gallery!) so  I started throwing plates out of the window and gluing them back together again, thus  eventually gluing my life back together as well, while  I was at it.  

But what to do if there is no crisis to overcome? If all is well? Or fairly OK?  So far life has proceeded in some desperate giant leap every ten years or so, when I am propelled – or propel myself- into an orbit from which I eventually land onto a new territory: sometimes literally, like when I found myself landing in Mali and I built my hotel. Now I am waiting.  Like that chrysalis again, hanging on a branch, waiting for the change of state. Maybe it will not be so spectacular this time around? Surely I can't be so perverse that I can only progress by overcoming disasters?

It seems clear that there is going to have to be some creative involvement in order to bring out the new Thing though.  No good just sitting around rolling my thumbs. Therefore  I enrolled for the Open Studio at Heatherleys school of Art in Chelsea today... it was perhaps twenty years ago I used to go for life drawing there.  It was lovely  to draw again!

Deterioration in Central Mali

I am looking forward to my Mali trip in less than a month, but this morning I received a worrying message from Dembele, who works in the MaliMali studio on my land in Djenne: 

'I want to tell you that I am really worried about security in Djenne. Every day there seem to be new measures coming into force and now motorcycles and other vehicles cannot move around the district during the day! And even in the town of Djenne itself there are restrictions of movement during the day. People are frightened. When you get to Mali you should stay in Bamako!' 

Well, I am used to most people telling me not to go to Djenne, but they never included my own staff! The reason for this banning of motorcycles is that the attacks by extremists on schools, army posts and other state-run institutions in the area have been carried out by armed  gangs who arrive on motorcycles, or the ubiquitous Chinese 'Djakarta' scooters, do their often lethal damage then disappear again into the bush.

I wrote off to my friend, Keita's old bosom buddy, Dra of the Campement Hotel, who is now deputy Maire of Djenne. He reassured me that I would be fine, and that people were spreading hysterical rumours. I expect I will go as usual- I need to spend about two weeks there on various missions, one being this year's cataract operations, once more sponsored by my dear cousin Pelle and his wife Nanni and given to 100 poor villagers in memory of Keita. I also have business both at the library and my studio.  We actually have some orders (!) from a London Interior decorating company  and from an Australian client as well as the normal sales to the expat community in Bamako.

Dra says that there are still toubabs coming to Djenne and that nothing would  really have changed since last time, as far as I am concerned at least. I am not a target he believes. I tend to agree- these elements are intent on causing trouble for Malian state employees. 

My friend Guida Landoure, neurologist at the Point G hospital in Bamako and political commentator with a large following on Facebook, published the following after his last visit to Djenne, his home town, a couple of weeks ago.  (I have translated and paraphrased slightly). He echoes in part the view of the 'Haute Conseil Islamic', the powerful national religious body, that is advocating negotiation with the extremist groups. It is difficult to see any other solution: the state is too weak and continues to withdraw.

"It is now a prohibited to ride a motorcycle in the 8 circles of Mopti and in 3 other circles in Segou. This is not a night curfew but total prohibition.

My sister just told me that their fish supplier has called to say that he cannot come because even the carts are forbidden. The harvest  has not been good this year and the little that remains will deteriorate. I do not know how my brother will bring the food of his animals? How will my nephews bring back the evening milk that is sold for the price of condiments? How is the Bozo going to be able to sell his fish and buy grain? So are we to believe that there will be no more markets in this area?

I have just been for a visit back home to Djenne, in the troubled central region of Mali. I do not believe that this conflict will be quelled by force. We will have no choice but to negotiate. It must be understood that the people in these areas no longer trust the state and the state cannot count on their support. The truth is that we do not know exactly who sympathizes with these groups.

We should not be afraid to begin a dialogue with the extremists. They want to apply Sharia but know that it is not possible. We could concede certain of their demands such as the prohibition of festivities during weddings or baptisms while at the same time being intransigent regarding school: they do not want to attack doctors. We must press home the point that doctors learn at schools; that their mobile phones come from those who have been taught there and that their motorbikes are invented by people who have gone to school. The degradation of moral stamina will do the rest over time, even if we concede a lot. In which country today is Sharia fully implemented?

If we were to accept the demands of the extremists, they will be the first victims to fall by Sharia law through the crimes they commit and have committed in the north that are forbidden in Islamic law. At the time of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), there was Sharia but he used to sit with animists. If we ignore the extremists, they will strengthen themselves and continue to ensnare more people with them. We fell into the same error with the Tuareg rebellion. These draconian measures will only irritate the local population who are already lost to the cause of the 'jihadists'. We also leave the door open to other abuses. The enforcement of these measures is likely to lead to corruption. When the ban was limited to a curfew after 18h, in our zone the FAMA (Forces Armees Maliennes) were posted at the entrance of the city with their fuel cans. They threatened to burn motorcycles if people did not pay them money.

Besides, I do not know how we will enforce these measures in areas inaccessible to the state. How many victims do motorcycles  make in big cities? Why not register all the bikes? It would reduce the robberies in Bamako and it would identify the people caught in these skirmishes in central Mali. "

Guida Landoure.

Dante Mania

 There is a way for me to find out how many people are looking in on this journal every day: a blog statistic. I am baffled by the fact that many people keep looking in every day, although I have been quiet for weeks now. I don’t know who you are of course, but I am pleased and genuinely touched, albeit slightly mystified. The problem is that I really don’t think I have anything interesting to talk about. I feel inadequate to provide you, dear unknown people who so faithfully check out this space every day, with the entertainment you deserve...

When I lived in Mali and ran my hotel every day seemed to be brimming over with worthwhile experiences and interesting facts worthy of communicating. I am sure these days are too, if I only discovered from which view point to observe this London landscape of mine.  Everything is only a matter of perspective. I know that it is all ready to sparkle, if I could just catch the right angle...mind you these grey February days seem to cover everything with some sort of reasonable and dull ordinariness to which  I am unaccustomed. OK, OK, so I can’t expect life to be extraordinary the entire time. Let’s settle down to some normal London life, there is much to commend it.  (and after all, I will be on my way to Mali again in a month or so...)

I keep going to lectures: I have been wrapped up in a sort of Dante mania, together with a few like minded friends for the last few weeks, and this I am quite enjoying. All spring there are excellent (and free) Monday evening lectures at the Warburg Institute as we journey through the Divine Comedy with two inspirational guides- Alessandro Scafi from the Warburg who reads the text in Italian first in the most mellifluous voice which makes it immaterial that I don’t understand Italian. Then John Took, a professor from UCL goes into the whys and wherefores before we are all allowed some questions.
 

That is not all: these two also appear at the Italian Culture Institute every other Tuesday evening, for something called ‘ Dante: a Man for All Seasons’, expanding Dante beyond the Divina Commedia: Dante as theologian and philosopher; Dante and Love etc.
 

 And, as if this was not enough Dante, we did finally start that promised reading group here at my place too last Wednesday: it will meet every first Wednesday of the month, with four cantos a time in the sublime translation by Dorothy L Sayers.

 Now, this last expression of our collective Dante mania took quite a light hearted shape, and our little group of six enthusiasts managed the seemingly impossible task of making the first cantos of Inferno quite a jolly occasion with plenty of wine and laughter:

Before arriving at  the first circle in the Inferno, there is a dreadful place called the ‘Vestibule of Hell' which I had forgotten about, where Dante and Virgil come across the  ‘Futiles’.  The unhappy souls that inhabit this place are those that  have lived such totally useless lives that both Heaven and Hell reject them. They will therefore spend all eternity hanging around in the Vestibule, like those sad people who hang around outside happening night clubs  in the forlorn hope  that the bouncers will eventually let them in. The Futiles are those who have never bothered to live at all and have thrown away every opportunity even to sin properly. This really is the ultimate put down. To be so insignificant and worthless that one is snubbed by Hell itself!  That reminds me of the fabulous script of Casablanca:  The slimeball Ugarte says to Rick: ‘You despise me don’t you?’ And Rick replies: ‘Well, if I gave you any thought I probably would’. 

Anyway, let’s hope we do not end up with the Futiles...

For more Dante mania, please check out David's excellent commentary on his blog as he dives into Cantos 26 and 27, which was explored at the Warburg last Monday:

'Flaming frauds and frivolous flibbertigibbets':

http://davidnice.blogspot.co.uk/ 

.....and this coming Monday we look forward to descending into deepest Hell ...