housing

LSU Vet Med Artist Residency Journal 6

The next week began with my making some more progress in the studio and also taking some more reference images for future artwork. However, what felt like allergies flaring up on Monday and Tuesday began to seem more suspicious by Tuesday evening, and Wednesday morning I took an at-home COVID test which reflected a positive result. I have been around a large number of unmasked people both at the vet school and at the various art receptions I’ve been attending, so I wasn’t terribly surprised given how infectious this latest wave has been.

When I called in with the news, LSU policy dictated that I stay out of the provided studio until five days of symptoms had passed. This would normally be a bit problematic from a productivity standpoint but otherwise unremarkable, except that the housing I’ve been provided is marginal and without an escape to go to (the studio and restaurants/cafes/shops), it is a unrealistic place to ask a professional guest to isolate for days.

Below are a couple of photos of the totality of housing space I’ve been provided. My host is a very kind and gracious artist himself, and he thinks that it’s ideally used as a very short term weekend or week-long stay and that LSU Vet Med was already pushing it to ask me to stay there for two months. He shared with me that as an isolating unit he views it as effectively a jail cell or a cubicle, and that he agrees it is unreasonable to ask anyone to isolate within it. (The last photo is how I sleep as the floor is more comfortable than the cot, but I store the pad on the cot when not sleeping as it is impossible to get to the bathroom or exit otherwise.) As you can imagine, I try not to spend much waking time in this space; I just use it as a place to sleep and shower.

I therefore had to scramble to find a hotel or Airbnb on extremely short notice. I managed to find a viable place - a studio apartment with a kitchen - and had to personally outlay approximately $400 (the cheapest functional arrangement I could find on same-day notice) to stay there for the rest of the isolation period.

The LSU School of Veterinary Medicine is unwilling to pay for or even share the cost of this expenditure, which is very disappointing. For anyone considering doing this artist residency, I’d just warn you that any housing or COVID issues you face while here are at your own cost and that their standard for acceptable housing is marginal. Staying in this space already cost me more than I’m used to in residency food expenses due to not having a kitchen (meaning I can only eat prepared foods or microwave or refrigerated meals), so requiring that I fully carry my isolation expenses on top strikes me as unprofessional on the part of the LSU Vet Med artist residency program. I am hesitant to recommend this residency without sharing this issue as it has been an unexpected and pretty significant negative. But rounding it out, in almost all other aspects I have had a good experience and other more minor problems have all seemed like teething pains that would naturally occur as the inaugural artist.

Once my isolation period ended and I was able to access the studio again, I moved back into the above pictured space and picked up where I’d left off on my studio practice.

Nau Côclea Residency - Log 2

After all the flights, I had to take the train from Barcelona to Camallera.  I was a bit nervous about this, since I didn't actually know which trains went to Camallera (only the regional trains do, but telling a regional from a non-regional is more difficult than it would first appear).  I also hadn't slept other than a 10-minute nap in Charlotte, NC, and the flights together were about 16 hours long.  First I had to find the train station (not too bad), and then buy a ticket.  It transpired that there were actually two stations I had to visit; at the second, at first it looked like I was in for a 2 1/2 hour to get on a regional train but then somehow a completely different train was found that would go to Camallera in the next four minutes.  I scrambled to get on that one, and did.  Then I spent the next couple hours of transit time falling asleep on the train, waking up, hoping I hadn't passed Camallera but also thinking that it was a ways away so I should be fine but not even being entirely sure this train actually did go to Camallera, and so on.  As I got more and more uncertain, I finally found a list of the stops of the train on my smartphone, and then in six more stops, I was in Camallera!

The residency is about a 20-minute walk away from the station, but the day I arrived my host and the art director of Nau Côclea, Clara, was there to pick me up (no one wants to drag their luggage 20 minutes when sleep-deprived and uncertain of end destination).  The residency itself is a small grouping of buildings in the midst of hay fields on the outskirts of Camallera.  The town is inhabited by only about 500 people, but the train station means it actually has a fair amount of services for such a small town.  It also means that travel to nearby towns is pretty easy.

I have my own small house to myself and it's kind of a hybrid between the Peruvian housing situation and a more Western one.  The kitchen is reminiscent of the one in Peru - a stovetop range fueled by a gas canister, a fridge, and a sink.  Unlike in Peru, though, the water is safe to drink right out the tap and the bathroom has a water-based toilet and a shower - and all the water can be heated.  However, the rooms have no air conditioning and rely on windows and airflow from outside to cool them off, so just like in Peru, the insects come in with the breeze.  I acquired about seven new mosquito bites in the first day before I remembered to start applying mosquito repellent every eight hours or so.

The first day I had a tour of the land, a snack, took a long nap, and then ate dinner with Clara while getting acquainted with her.  I'm the only resident here at this time, so she's going to be inviting me along to some of her social/arts events so that I don't get too isolated.