The courtyard is open to the street, here is the wind room on a stone ground floor. A crooked, dilapidated staircase leads to the wind room. The sight of the stairs makes me uneasy and I wonder how it is even possible that they hold? A support beam is missing! Especially the platform in front of the entrance. It is made of wood and just sticks out of the wall. Now Martin is standing there. When I asked him, he replied that this platform only lasts because he wants it to. So the wind room has a miraculous staircase.
It’s white and looks like a pretty old garden shed that came down from the sky and settled on the stone base. Its walls, made of whole planks lined up vertically, are provided with decorative holes. The cracks between the boards form an additional ornamental element. The holes in the shape of a kite appear as if they are being strung on threads and are reminiscent of the crystals of a chandelier, which is very appropriate when I think of the play of light they create inside the wind room. At the bottom, the wind room ends in a zigzag pattern, which reminds me of lace borders.
The half-timbered houses surrounding the wind room remind me of matrons. Their visible beams form the framework of the whole building. The gaps in the beam structure were filled with a straw-clay mixture that swells out over the frame, like the love handles that sometimes appear next to straps and ribbons on a bra wearer. Houses that look like warm, soft living, with windows of different sizes at different heights, they seem to have grown, not built. So already built, but organic. A bar specifies the conditions for the next and at the end there is an individual, rebellious against formalization and standardization.
In the courtyard next to the wind room, three rows of mailboxes float above a fence that delimits an island in the front yard. The garden island was converted into a roof tile store. The three mailboxes, on the other hand, no longer serve a purpose. M. Müller, Ch. Bolliger, R. Segginger, R. Näf and L. Leuenberger no longer live here. Next to it, on the plastered facade of the wind room base, I discover a painted coat of arms. It looks very fresh. A key and a sword cross each other on a blue background. If the key doesn’t fit, use the sword. Could the message be.
The keys to the mailboxes are probably still somewhere, Messrs. Müller, Bolliger, Segginger, Näf and Leuenberger will not have taken them with them. Use the sword and you’ll find the key, maybe. the symbols of empowerment to intrude, friendly or not, are magnified in the intersection. Where does this coat of arms come from, who does it belong to and what do you do with it? (Mimi von Moss)
Venue avec le vent
je m’installe sur un vieil escalier en pierre face à la chambre au vent
nichée dans une cour autrefois pavée ?
habitée de rosiers sauvages
peau douce et fragile du bois teint en blanc jadis
couleur d’hellébore fané
l’ancien jardin clôturé devenu un deposit de tuiles de toits effondrés
façade en bois
percée d’ouvertures minuscules portes du vent, du soleil et des étoiles
Carrées, diamants, pointes de lance épée blanche du temps perdu
clé en or pour entrer dans l’infini.
(Victor Saudan)
Cho with em wind
Squatting in front of the room from the wind on the banks of the old stone
tender, vulnerable, hat from gwysgete wood, it’s long
Color before overgrown Hellebore
ygnischted imene hof dozmol with bsetzistei? inhabited by rosehip bushes
dr alti garte in the hague
to the roof tile warehouse gworde bricks from ygfallen roofs
facade made of wood
glochet with tiny muzzle
Ygang from the wind, from the sun and the stars
viereggli, diamante, spearhead wysses festers us lost zyt gold key for d’infinity.
(Victor Saudan)
blink a little blue
so voilà now, do simmr
enfin am aafang.
(Martin Burr)