THE VIEW FROM HERE
By Ellen Lampert-GreauxEllen lives in Petite Saline St Barts and is the editor-in-chief of Harbour Magazine for Saint Barth and Saint Martin. Ellen is a member and regular visitor of SBHonline and she is very active on the island organizing the St. Barth Film Festival, and writing for various magazines including Live Design, The St Barth Weekly, Chic, Pure, MACO, and All At Sea.
FESTIVAL TIME
Saint Barth takes a short break from regattas...
The View From Here, April 2012
It's been sailing season as anyone who has been to Saint Barth can tell you! The docks have been filled to the brim with magnificent sailboats,
from the Bucket to Les Voiles. So take a deep breath: we have a few weeks off until the smaller sailboats of the West Indies Regatta then Transat Ag2r
respectively fill the berths. As fabulous as all this nautical frenzy is for the economy of the island?good ROI, or return on the investment as the portfolio
mavens like to say?it's now time for a good dose of culture, at least St Barth-style culture. Starting with a book festival, then our film festival, and the
2012 St Barts Film Festival
Click Image For Larger View
St Barth theatre festival, the population of the island is invited to put on their thinking caps and turn their spring fever into something a little more
intellectual. But it's not so easy. While the port of Gustavia may be small, it has fabulous offices, with a large multi-purpose room that the regattas can
use for their headquarters. Unfortunately it does not make a very good theatre. In organizing the St Barth Film Festival for the 17th year (great hobby or
bad habit... check it out at www.stbarthff.org.
We are faced with the same odd bunch of challenges as in the past. Getting Cubans here without passing through Miami or San Juan. An under-the-stars festival is a great idea, but what if it rains? And who told the Portuguese they could have their annual (or monthly it seems) fete the same weekend as the festival, and just a few yards from the open-air cinema in Lorient? The beach in front of our family house in Flamands is narrower than usual at this time of year, but since we pull the power from the house for the screen and the stereo system, we tend to gravitate there for our beach screenings. But this year we stumbled on a new location for our afternoon screenings on one event in the evening: The Wall House Museum over by the Wall House restaurant. This fabulous historic building has great stone walls, and exudes the heritage of the island, it dates from the Swedish era and faces the sea. We are planning a screening in the garden out back of the museum and hope it becomes one of those magical evenings we talk about forever. After a few months of serious planning, things are falling into place. If you are on the island during the festival, please join us for an evening of film and conversation... we can discuss the need for a real theatre on the island, and I promise we won't talk about boats, at least not during the films!
Click Image For Larger View
We are faced with the same odd bunch of challenges as in the past. Getting Cubans here without passing through Miami or San Juan. An under-the-stars festival is a great idea, but what if it rains? And who told the Portuguese they could have their annual (or monthly it seems) fete the same weekend as the festival, and just a few yards from the open-air cinema in Lorient? The beach in front of our family house in Flamands is narrower than usual at this time of year, but since we pull the power from the house for the screen and the stereo system, we tend to gravitate there for our beach screenings. But this year we stumbled on a new location for our afternoon screenings on one event in the evening: The Wall House Museum over by the Wall House restaurant. This fabulous historic building has great stone walls, and exudes the heritage of the island, it dates from the Swedish era and faces the sea. We are planning a screening in the garden out back of the museum and hope it becomes one of those magical evenings we talk about forever. After a few months of serious planning, things are falling into place. If you are on the island during the festival, please join us for an evening of film and conversation... we can discuss the need for a real theatre on the island, and I promise we won't talk about boats, at least not during the films!
A NEW ERA
The Winds of Change Are Blowing Even Stronger
The View From Here, February 2012
Wow, January flew by so fast I didn't even see it go! The final few weeks of 2011 were so insane, I thought 'if it's Tuesday,
it must be bedlam!'Gallery openings: so many artists, so little time. Cocktail parties. Fireworks. Even the first-even Hanukkah
celebration on the dock with a giant menorah brought over from St Martin for the occasion, complete with latkes and the rabbi handing
out Hanukkah gelt and serving kosher wine. Of course a few Catholic eyebrows were raised at the sight of all this "nachas" on the dock,
where Father Christmas had stood just days before. But with the likes of Roman Abramovich and Ron Perelman called forth to light candles
by none other than Hollywood producer/director Brett Ratner it was quite the occasion. But the holiday giddiness faded away with the crowds
and the month of January gave way primarily to the St Barth Music Festival and politics. The festival celebrated its 28th anniversary with
Rockin' On The Dock in Gustavia
photo: Rosemond Gréaux
the usual stellar line-up of great classical musicians and singers with a little twist this year: a rock concert on the dock. Yep,
Brad Whitford of Areosmith and a few of his cool musical pals rocked for about two hours on Saturday, January 21, with the surprise
hit of the evening Brad's 17 year-old son Harrison Whitford, who had the crowd awed by his playing and teenage girls swooning at the very
sight of this teenage guitar hero. On the political front, the island awoke to the fact that its supreme leader, Bruno Magras, who has
evolved from first mate to mayor to president as Saint Barth evolved from a municipality in Guadeloupe to a fairly independent Overseas
Collectivity, and for those who like alphabet soup, from a RUP to a PTOM vis-a-vis the European Union, may have hung up his hat after
30 years in public service. Or is he waiting for the public to ask him to once again serve as Pater Patriae (a petition was circulated asking him to reconsider).
Seems as if the status quo might be better than sailing off into the unknown with a new skipper at the helm. Especially with presidential elections
looming in France and socialist candidate Francois Holland campaigning on a platform of financial reform. What would that mean for this island on a
national level? On a local level one can only hope for a new president with a little more of an environmental agenda (anyone see the photos of the
thousands of dead fish in the St Jean salt pond) and a real handle on how to curb the population explosion, the proliferation of cars and parking lots,
and 9-bedroom villas. Or are we in for more of the same, unbridled growth wearing the mask of economic stability, and a race to make money at such a fast
pace that no one can even stop to catch their breath. Only time will tell.
photo: Rosemond Gréaux
Water. One of the few things mankind absolutely cannot live without. But until you live in a place like St Barth, water conservation is not a
very big priority for most people. Sure we all laugh at the old adages like "save water, shower with a friend," or "water, water everywhere
but not a drop to drink," and some of us may be environmentally aware enough to realize that we are draining the earth's fresh water supply
at an alarmingly rapid rate and that many people in underdeveloped countries have little - or sometimes no - access to fresh water. Yet we
persist in living in dry places, such as St Barth, where there is no fresh water, not a lake, not a river, not a stream, not a source... not even a well.
And if anyone tells you that have found fresh water or have a well, I'll bet you a rum punch or two that their H2O is a salty
concoction (and I don't mean a Margarita). Sure it may seem drinkable after a big rainfall but after a few dry weeks it will return to its old
brackish self. As a result, the island desalinates the ocean as fast as possible, and most houses have cisterns to collect rainwater, because
even armed with the knowledge that water is scarce, there are pools to be filled, gardens to be watered, showers to be taken, yachts to be
hosed down.... You get the picture. We have a 75 cubic meter cistern and for the past 13 years, since our house was built, we have saved
water and used it sparingly as if every drop was a sparkling diamond. So you can imagine my consternation when the darn thing started
to leak a while back. It eventually got to the point where we found out the liner that keeps it from leaking was old and crumbling, and
would need to be replaced. The problem was that there were about 30 cubic meters of water that needed to be removed. Sacre blue,
what to do? The cistern-fixer guy came with a large blue hose and started pumping the water into the street, which we quickly discovered was illegal.
Could we pump it into my brother-in-law's cistern next door? Nope, no room, and we had filled the pool as high as possible.
We even called the water delivery truck but the cost of carting it away was prohibitive, and the cisterns at the fire station were full as well,
don't worry, we asked. So eventually we slowly watered the land around the house, trying not to loosen tree roots with too much of the stuff.
So now the cistern is empty and awaiting repair. But wait, it's raining! The heaviest rains in months and we don't want the water.
What a terrible contradiction in terms. And I'll bet you another rum punch that once we finally get that old cistern empty again and
cleaned out and relined, that it won't rain for months. And once again we will be reminded just how precious water really is on a very dry island.
Settled nicely into their new home or "neigh"borhood, in stables built on a hilltop overlooking the sea in Gouverneur
(where they recently moved from their former location in Flamands), are two dozen or so horses that make up the equine population of the island.
As such, the St Barth "ranch" put on quite a show in February. The island's equestrian association, Le Galop des Iles (hmmm, how to translate that:
The gallop of the islands; galloping islands; islands that gallop... well, you get the point...), put on a full day of horseback riding including
"Once Upon A Time in Gouverneur...," a charming home-grown cowboys and Indians spectacle with kids and teenagers on horseback.
The whole ranch had a Western feel, with a saloon set up for cold beer, soft drinks, and a hearty chuck wagon meal of chili con carne.
After lunch was show time and everybody was ready... the horses came galloping out into the ring, kicking up clouds of dust with their hooves.
The cowboys had hats and boots and saddles, while the Indians braved it barefoot and bareback, really showing off their good riding skills.
Many of the cowboys and cowgirls where dressed according in jeans and plaid shirts while the "squaws" (I didn't see any actual "braves")
were in whooping it up in brown beaded smocks, some with feathers or headdresses. There was a plot to provide a little framework to the show,
in which a young cowboy finds his wife kidnapped by the Indians, but fortunately they are willing to make a deal with him. I think he had to
perform some kind of feat of daring to get her back, which of course he does, and they ride off in the sunset to live happily ever after...
I can only imagine how many hours of hard work, sweat, and mucking out of horse stalls it took to produce a show like this. Every rider and every
horse was perfectly behaved and a cast of extras on foot played their parts as well. There were so many people there that parking was quite a challenge,
and cars coming up and down the narrow road that leads to the ranch often found themselves backing up to get out of tropical gridlock. But one of the best
things about a day like this is that everyone has dust on their shoes and the kids and horses are the center of attention... no glitz, no glamour, just a good
old time leaning up against the split-rail fence until the sun sets and a day at the ranch draws to an end... sort of makes you want to get back in the saddle
yourself, but above all applaud the kids, parents, and instructors that make events like this part of the scene in Saint Barth.
