Dispatches from the Alps, 2
This morning the skies over southwestern Switzerland are clear as we drive east and along the Rhône River. The Canton Valais is a corridor for traffic to and from Italy south and over the mountains to our right. A 48-inch diameter pipeline transferring gas from the Netherlands to Italy is on our left, as are the train tracks. Gravel pits and cement factories mark our entrance into every town, evidence of the dam and highway construction that’s been constant since the 1970s. After an hour of slugging it out with semi-trucks on the narrow town streets that bottleneck the highway, we pass the turnoff for the Simplon Pass and the traffic lightens considerably.
Switzerland has a regulation governing the construction of the ubiquitous traffic roundabouts that requires you should not be able to meet the eyes of a driver across the reach of the circle. This has meant each roundabout’s center has to be planted with something, a great excuse for public art. An art collector in the town of Martigny, Léonard Gianadda, started a trend when he ran out of space for his collection of sculptures by major Swiss artists, and donated works for multiple traffic circles in that town west of Sierre. Now every town seems to have adopted the idea, but using in most cases local artists. The results are mixed, sometimes humorous, sometimes a bit disconcerting, as in the case of two life-sized fiberglass zebras standing in front of a painted version of Kilimanjaro. As hard as Bay Area art historian and expert on Land Art Julian Myers-Szupinska and I try, we can’t figure out the connection between the African mammals to the Valais.
Soon thereafter we ascend up hairpins through a forest and emerge in the eastern and higher part of the Valais. The difference is dramatic. Now the towns are the picturesque discrete rural entities that I remember from the 1960s. Our goal this morning is the fabled yet little known collection of site-specific artworks found on the Furka Pass, a road built in 1866 that tops out at 7975 ft and is open only four months out of the year due to snow. But it has an art history extending back to when Queen Victoria visited in 1868—and it now hosts work by the likes of Richard Long and Per Kirkeby.