Heather Lyon
I greeted the see, Rummelsburger See, part of the River Spree, at dusk the day of my
arrival in Berlin. The water birds came to meet me with calls across the water, Eurasian
Coot, Swan, Mallard, Canada goose. Latitude 52. Longitude 13.
I came to Lichtenberg Studios in search of birds and a certain hue of blue, Prussian
Blue / Berlin Blau. I hoped to record the bird songs, to create painted and stitched
imagery from their vocalizations. I was not prepared for the memories of my time living
in France to return within the songs of the birds, Common Wood-Pigeon, Eurasian Blue
Tit, European Robin. The blue was the first modern pigment, created by accident by a
painter in Berlin in 1706 who sought red, but used potash contaminated with blood.
The resulting crystals were a brilliant dark blue. This color has been important in my
work for well over a decade, and it seemed only natural to delve deeper into this blue
at its point of origin. I found it on the streets and in the used clothing shops in cotton
and wool.
Most days I made my way by bike or on foot to the see, to embroider on deep blue
fabric by the water, record the songs of the birds, observe the subtle yet steady
changes of spring. I collected used clothing from the neighborhood to use in my fabric
works, sewing them into new pieced shapes and forms, small quilts, a poncho to use
in a performance. The embroidery became the varied blue lines and marks of bird
songs, dipping, swooping, rising, falling through transparent fabric, all calls and songs
recorded on my walks.
The Malchower See was the site of several performances in and at the edge of the
water. Again the birds were present. They were reflected in the water as they flew past
while I moved my body, informed by the feeling of the energy of the place, the energy
rising from that body of water into mine. I brought my project “Semaphore Love
Letters” to the see. A distant figure waved from the far shore as I signaled with my flags
a message across the water.
Water draws me. Water connects me to home, familiar yet unfamiliar. I often stood at
the edge of the see, memorized by the ever-changing colors and movement of light on
the water. The patterns of clouds, the occasional cool March sun breaking through,
reflected off the ripples and undulations from passing boats and water fowl. I too am a
body of fluid presence, like the see.
