Lanzarote as studio
notes is a series of short-form photo-essays on art and thoughts in orbit
〰️
notes is a series of short-form photo-essays on art and thoughts in orbit 〰️
Since at least the 1960s the volcanic island of Lanzarote in Spain has been a drawcard for artists who have made the island their muse and home. On a recent holiday there I enjoyed visiting two house/studio museums for the writer José Saramago (1922-2010) and the visual artist César Manrique (1919-1992). Having read Saramago’s novel Blindness (1995) I was keen to learn more about the author and his life on the island. Upon arriving a host greeted me and led me on a tour through Saramago’s home. Walking through the house was unexpectedly emotional. Family photos covered sideboards, the books he was reading before his death still left undisturbed on the lounge coffee table and a blanket draped over the arm of his office chair gave the impression that he would return any moment. Artworks also covered the walls. Many of these paintings depicted scenes in his novels and were gifted from the artists to Saramago revealing the impact of his writing on visual artists and his relationships with them. Another personal insight was that all the clocks in the house were set to 4:03 – the time when Saramago first met his wife. These personal affects and intimate stories made me feel like I was an interloper in Saramago’s life. That said, it is this intimacy which also gave the visit a hallowed tension – the sense that Saramago’s presence is still alive in the house and that by being there I could gain a greater appreciation of the man and his work. Most impactful was that I got to gaze off to the same horizon that Saramago no doubt did multiple times while contemplating the moral quandaries described in Blindness – where a society responds to a blindness pandemic.
There are two house museums in Lanzarote preserving the passion and desication of César Manrique. The Volcano House in Tahíche and the Palm Grove House at the more remote northern end of the island in the village of Haría. In both instances the buildings were designed by Manrique to be embedded within the landscape – this is very literal in the case of the Volcano House which utilises lava caves as rooms and corridors. My preference was his Palm Grove House which like Saramago’s home was lived in until Manrique’s death and is still adorned and furnished with the artist’s belongings including clothes in the wardrobe, slippers by the bed, family photos covering the piano and even TV’s, telephones and hifi systems from the 1980s and 90s. While still personalised, in Manrique’s home I felt more like an invited guest possibly due to the larger social feel of the space. The Palm Grove House has multiple indoor and outdoor living spaces for entertaining house guests and hosting parties. This may reflect Manrique’s influence in Lanzarote which by all accounts he was well connected with influential artists and politicians including the island’s president Pepín Ramírez.
