Foto

Letter from Barcelona

30.03.2020

Dutch writer and art collector Han Nefkens writes Arterritory

A Chinese curse goes: “May you live in interesting times,” and that can certainly be said about the moments we are going through now. So far, Spain is the second most affected country by coronavirus after Italy, with up to 800 deaths in one day. Spaniards, for whom family life is so important, are shocked by the news that twenty elderly people were found dead in their beds in a nursing home in Madrid.

The Arco exhibition centre is now a coronavirus hospital, the carefully separated empty white beds on the dark floor look like a giant installation.

The extent of this pandemic becomes greater when I hear about a friend’s father who is in intensive care, a government minister who is being hospitalised and the frequent sound of ambulance sirens that reverberate through our apartment.

We are in a complete lockdown and can only go out to buy groceries, visit the pharmacy or walk the dog. Lucy, our French bulldog is our passport to the outside world. This breed of dog is not really one that goes out for a lot of walks, so my husband Felipe and I find ourselves practically begging Lucy to go out. In our desperation, we even resort to bribing her with her favourite treats. Apparently, people are renting out their dogs for 30 euros per hour.

Police are everywhere, checking the certificates we have to sign before we go out onto the streets and checking cars to see if drivers have a legitimate reason to be out.

Even if their situation was much harsher, I often think about the stories my parents used to tell me about the Second World War where the disruption of daily life was so severe, and the threat of danger so immediate. It is the first time that I have had a global event disrupt my daily life in such an acute way. I also realise how privileged our situation is compared to people whose lives and futures have been completely uprooted by war or natural disaster.

Had you told me at the beginning of February that I would not have been able to travel for the coming months it would have caused a certain unease. But, when I started to cancel one trip after the other and postpone events for an undecided date, I felt a sense of relief.

I am surprised by the freedom this confinement has given me.

I can read, think and finally get back to writing which I have neglected over recent years, when I was rarely at home for longer than two weeks in a row. Both my agenda and my mind have been cleared. There are no longer any trips, no more meetings, no more lunches and dinners with friends and acquaintances, no more shops that tempt me to go and buy a blue jacket that is indistinguishable from the twenty other jackets that I already have. The scope of decisions I have to make is now limited to what to have for lunch, which book to read and which film to watch on Netflix. These limitations bring me serenity, and the fact that I enjoy that, makes me think about possible changes in my post-corona life.

The unusual situation of forced ‘social distancing’ we now live in has made one thing very clear: we all long for connection. I receive an endless stream of apps, mails and phone calls of friends and acquaintances asking how we’re coping. People here in Barcelona stand on their balconies every evening at eight o’clock to applaud the doctors and nurses working in the overburdened health centres. In a building complex not far from where we live, an opera singer gives impromptu concerts for her neighbours, in another building, someone plays the guitar from their balcony.

The few times I am allowed to go out to buy groceries or walk the dog, complete strangers say hello.

Even when we have to keep a safe distance, we want to feel the presence of others.

Connecting people through art, my Foundation’s rallying cry is now more relevant than ever. Therefore, I have asked the video artists we work with to select one image from the works we have produced with them and add a couple of words that express their desire to reach out to others. We will post each image sparingly on Instagram under #arthelps.

When I went out for my treasured morning walk with our dog this morning, I noticed that leaves are appearing on the trees that were bare several days ago, and I heard the birds singing joyfully in the middle of the deserted city. Spring is flaring up in all its splendour.

Nature is not easily intimidated, it follows its own course. This is a good example for all of us.

Related articles