Artcamp in Mongolia
‘Artcamp’ took place at Undur Ulan (Red Rock) in a stunning landscape about one hour’s drive from Ulaan Baatar, the capital of Mongolia. Thirty artists: thirteen Mongolians, eleven Swedes, two Japanese, three Brits and a lone French man camped here for 10 days, with the huge rocky height of Undur Ulan behind us, an immense green valley before us and rolling hills beyond.
Setting off each morning to climb for almost an hour to my chosen spot, I took with me the materials I had bought in the ‘black market’ in Ulaan Baatar. I made thirteen small muslin bags, dyed them in the blood from one of the goats killed for supper, filled these bags with earth and suspended from a plaited horse hair rope tied between two large rocks. Each bag also contained the autograph from a member of the Mongolian art group and as the bags swung in the wind the earth would eventually disperse back to the land. Creating this was hairy as there was a steep slope between the two large rocks and I often lost my footing on the shingle as I reached up to tie first the rope and then to hang each bag. This piece represented my Mongolian friends who would probably remain in Mongolia until they died and then would return to their beloved land as dust.
On the lower slopes of the mountain I used a length of rope that had been covered in red fabric to symbolize an umbilical cord, as if the mountain had given birth. I placed the rope, emerging from rocks and arranged it coiling down over the rocks where I added three small circles of the rope to form pools at the bottom. The mountain had given birth and the child had been wrenched away. I felt that I was the child and could only be reunited with this beautiful country I loved once a year when I returned on holiday.
The two Swedes were interior designers (yes!) who rose to the occasion and made some welcome stairs out of the rocks on one route up the mountain! Yusaku from Japan glued many, many strips of paper onto the rocks at the edge of the mountain – they fluttered in the breeze. His wife, Chiaki suspended 100 small cling film bags of water inside her ger. They looked stunning, shimmering in the light that filtered through the top opening.
There was limited water at the camp; bathing, washing (bodies, clothes, hair) all took place in the icy, fast-moving waters of a river, about half an hour’s walk away. After a long day creating art in the hot sun nothing it was a pleasure to make the trek to wash off the dust. Our ablutions were usually conducted in front of assorted Mongolian families, out for the day! And one’s colleagues. And the young Mongolian students who were in the catering team. And on the last day members from two rock bands! Hollie and I were in our underwear, some had the forethought to bring costumes. It’s amazing what one get used to and boy was it nice to plunge in after climbing a mountain and working all day in temperatures of 33/35 degrees.
On the final day there was a grand tour of all the artworks, complete with T.V. cameras (I was amongst those interviewed), and in evening we had a party with two heavy metal bands performing on rocks at the foot of the mountain that formed a stage. The lighting was provided by headlamps from two four wheel drive vehicles and the sound (which was VERY loud) came from a whole bunch of speakers run on generators. The heavy metal mob were very gothic – quite the fashion here. Dressed all in black, with a plethora of tattoos, the band members adopted fierce poses and looked alarming. Underneath they were absolute pussy cats. The lead singer was tall and skinny with long black hair, dark glasses and a black hat. I discovered later at a gallery private view, when he appeared with short hair, dressed in white shorts, white shirt and long white socks, that he is actually a policeman!