My time at Bellagio is coming to an end. In fact, I’m the last resident here, alone in the vastness of the Villa grounds. I thought I would feel a bit deserted when the last four residents (except for me) departed for Malpensa airport last Thursday, but in fact, as I drift around in silence, a not unpleasant mood of gentle melancholy and retrospection has set in.
It's been extraordinary being here. Imagine a country house party which goes on for weeks, except that each day you get to work at whatever you want to all day without the stress of your daily life back home. Occasionally there’s a spot of croquet or tennis in the late afternoon and three times a week a pre-dinner presentation from one of the other residents about their specific project, projects which have ranged from composing music for operas to discovering new black holes in space.
One evening, I ran a workshop rather in the style of the Other Voices series I have been working on, to be followed by a next-day shoot. The question to all the resident scholars was: What does in mean to be here at Bellagio? The response: WE”RE NOT REALLY HERE.
It’s definitely been almost too good to be true.
No comments:
Post a Comment