CLICHES ECOSSES
MAY 2010
We used to note the explorer's stories with a pencil at first
Antoine de Saint Exupéry
We don't always need to think for a long time before taking an important decision and sticking to it. We don't always need to analyse, to weigh up pros and cons or to carry out market research. When a single doubt could throw everything out of line, our fears can be silenced with something that seems to be strike us as an obvious fact.
Théodora and I needed 3 hours to think up the creation of the book Scotching Scottish Clichés. Joanne decided to do the theatre adaptation the day after we first met.
This kind of commitment cannot be other than immediate because the person who carries it in them has dreamt about it long before. Something close to it in any
case. But still. When a situation occurs that brings us back to these dreams, it may not need or support any kind of deep analysis. Some decisions need to be forged in the fire of action or they
will be carried away with the wind. It is these decisions that carry us forward towards other events.
Two years after beginning our work, Théodora and I have just created our association. It is called the Tattletales and is the continuation of our Scottish experiment. So it is of course dedicated to storytelling. Stories told by actors on the stage, animated by the sparkling lights of a cinema projector, revealed within the frame of a photo, drawn out on sheets of paper, tales told on road trips, those we hide in folds of an overcoat, slip into a pocket or into someone's ear.
So at the same time that we reach the end of the tour, Scotching Scottish Clichés has become the association's first creation. Our book and the exhibition having found a place of their own, it is now time for us to take our stories back to where they were first gathered.
MAY 2010
PARIS Clichés Ecossés
Le samedi 22 mai Journée portes ouvertes
de 14h à
18h30 Dédicaces des
livres
Entrée libre
La maison du kilt
12 Rue du Maine
75014 Paris
01 40 47 74 05
www.tartanbreton.com
JUNE 2010
SCOTLAND
GLASGOW
Clichés Ecossés
Alliance Française Permanent
exhibition
From 27th May to 11th June
EDINBURGH Clichés
Ecossés
Institut
Français Permanent exhibition
From 14th June to 26th June
INVERURIE
Lost in Scotland
Acorn
Centre Accompanied
by the travelling version of the
4th and 5th
June Clichés Ecossés
exhibition
ALFORD Lost in Scotland
Tullynessle & Forbes Hall
Accompanied by the travelling version of the
11th June Clichés Ecossés exhibition
NAIRN Lost in Scotland
Nairn Community Centre Book and Arts Festival
12th June
GLASGOW Lost in Scotland
College of Piping
West End festival
15th and 16th June
EDINBURGH Lost in Scotland
MARCH 2010
There are some days when preparing for a tour seems more like organising a party than anything else. And believe me when I say that we've been paying particular attention to those exciting little moments. Planning the Clichés Ecossés exhibition for display in a pub is proving to be an intriguing puzzle, whilst trying to set up Lost In Scotland in a church hall in Aberdeenshire (by telephone from Paris, no less) has been nothing but fun. Our various representatives in both France and Scotland have been busy visiting, measuring, noting, photographing and relaying everything back to us as the planning process rumbles on. Thanks to them, we are now able to give you more precise details of what we have coming up over the next few months.
The protagonist of Lost in Scotland
– an incarnation of the two authors of the book on which the play is based –
finds herself trapped in what could be a scene from a Scottish postcard.
A struggle to see beyond her own world of illusions,
a veritable Celtic Wonderland, leads to a confrontation between reality and imagination.
Watch as Scotland is created all around her, rising up and protecting its own,
as it takes on a form far beyond anything that our author could have imagined,
even in her wildest dreams.
Scotching Scottish Clichés
' There are some places where two parallel worlds coexist and never meet.
The monster's world, and the tourists'.
This is true for Inverness, capital of the Scottish Highlands and generally considered as the most northern tip of the country by those who have never set foot there. For more curious strangers,
it is the essential stop on their itinerary, from which they can watch the ripples made
by an underwater monster on the surface of Loch Ness.
Curiously, the closer the tourists try to get to the animal, the greater the distance that sets them apart from it. Not that monsters are particularly inaccessible, but more because these summer visitors live on a strange and distant planet that protects them from anything that might disturb their annual rest. Luckily, monsters – and espeically underwater monsters –
are a lot craftier than we might think. '



Saturday 7 November
It's never the same day twice. Saturday afternoon saw some very quiet visitors shuffle into the exhibition hall. And at the same time, under the gaze of a Highland sheep,
looking down from its mounted frame, Joanne gave a bilingual theatre workshop.


Holed up in the library corner of the exhibition, François Olivi and Alex Maclachlan gave a public reading of an extract from the book: the story of the Bruichladdich distillery. It really
was an afternoon of theatre, from the sketches produced by the workshop participants to the performances of the two readers from France and Scotland. And the visitors continued to slalom their
way through the exhibition, taking in the postcards of Edinburgh and the artist's book workshop.



Jessy Gilbert,
part-time
bookseller
Alex Maclachlan, reader/chef/native
After that, and because you can never get enough a good thing, Théo and I returned to the front row of the stalls for another playing of our early Christmas present.

Sunday 8 November
Curiouser and curiouser. On Sunday, it felt like a whole week passed in just a few hours; you see, I accompanied my mother down to Lyon to pick Sheila, our favourite
caller, up from the airport. After a flight from Edinburgh to London, a night in a hotel, and lost baggage (her suitcase had actually remained in Scotland), Sheila arrived happy and smiling...
with her hands in her pockets! Another two hours on the road, a seat in the front row for the show, and fifteen minutes spent rehearsing in the kitchen with the musician (obviously, the two had
never met before that afternoon), and Sheila was ready to take the mic and show all the Frenchies how they ceilidh in Scotland.

Sheila McCutcheon,
caller
Christopher Frontier, musician

The end of one thing is always the beginning of another: the final curtain has only just come down on our Scottish weekend, but
we are already preparing for our next events which will take place in April (in Ile-de-France, Normandy and Brittany), in June (in Scotland), and in August (for the Edinburgh Fringe).
Of course, you will all be kept informed as to the exact dates of the upcoming events. In the meantime, don't forget that you can still order the books, the special artist's books, photos
and calligraphy from the "Shop" section of the website. And the English version of Clichés Ecossés, Scotching Scottish Clichés, will be released on 2 December, 2009.
So, this month I have decided to pay tribute to those who have been helping us, in one way or another, to create the book.
To begin with, we have received support from a number of organisations without whom the trip would have been infinitely more complicated.
In Paris the Maison des écrivains and the Société des auteurs indépendants have both shown remarkable patience and support in sharing their experience with us and answering our every question. Thanks to their advice, we were awarded the Prix Envie d’Agir 2008, which allows us to remain autonomous in the publication of the book and to exhibit in France and in Scotland.
Across the Channel, the Scots, famous for their kindness, have become our main partners in this project. I shan’t go into further details for fear of giving too much away. Suffice to say that the list that acknowledges them fills two pages at the end of the book. Of equal value are our French contacts living in Scotland who have shared their perspectives with us. These have also played an important role in our work
Outside of Scotland, there are a number of specialists who have agreed to help us study various details such as literary structure, the editing and lay-out of photographs, the historical sections, and stylistic vocabulary.
This summer our group of translators has been very busy indeed. Because a first book is always very difficult to finance, we have been working with professionals who have kindly volunteered their time and expertise. They are English, French, Irish and Quebecois. Nicki, our Scottish translator in chief, collects, corrects and collates the translated copies. Each one of the team has a very busy schedule and yet has taken the time to help us.
There are those who have supported us from the very beginning, before we even had the idea for Clichés Ecossés. And there are those with whom we crossed paths only briefly, on the road, for a chat, or even answering a simple question.
There is one person whose role defies any categorising, simply because she has been with us every step of the way. Joanne Allan is not only the director of the book’s stage adaptation; she has been involved from the beginning of the project, from funding applications to helping with the English blog entries.
The famous image of the solitary artist is true to a certain extent.
But what is never said is that some of these moments are taken to thank those who have helped along the
way.

Whilst most of you are getting ready for your holidays, Théo and I are approaching the home straight in our project. Four months and counting until the big day: the book’s launch.
Our summer at a glance:
JULY 2009 - Bright sunshine - 36ºC in the shade.
Movement plays an essential part in the writing process. Just because I am back and forth between Paris, Lyon and Montreal doesn’t mean I’m on holiday. Far from it. I’m simply editing the ten stories that will make up the book. Between now and the middle of July, the manuscript will have been re-read and corrected by a hand-picked elite. Over the days which follow, the stories will be separated and sent to our favourite team of Anglophone translators in France, the UK and in Canada. Thanks to them, we will be able to plan the simultaneous Autumn release of the English and French versions.
Rehearsals for Theatraverse’s stage adaptation of the book will start at the same time.
The director and I are working in secret on the adaptation, Mum’s the word!
AUGUST 2009 - Stormy weather 31 ºC
Some of the freshly translated stories make their way back to Scotland to be proof-read by the concerned parties. Technical and factual details need to be checked. Five months in Scotland does not make one an expert in whisky or tweed. Not normally anyway.
Our Scottish head of translation, Nikki, will then take up the reins for the English… Scottish version.
Ignoring the temptation of the swimming pool, Théo and I will begin work on the hand-made artists’ books with Céline, our new book-binding instructor.
I’ll spare you the details.
SEPTEMBER 2009 - Cloudy with sunny spells - Temperatures drop
Back to work for some; still at work for others.
At the beginning of the month, Theatraverse pick up their rehearsals, starting with a week at the Institut Français in Edinburgh.
Meanwhile, back in the French capital, Théo and I will be working on the editing process, with the graphic designer from the Société des auteurs indépendants.
OCTOBER 2009 - Overcast with showers - Temperatures varying
The swimming pool, unused, goes back under wraps for another year.
Final correction, printing, and delivery of 500 copies (300 French, 200 English) of Clichés Ecossés. The square format of the book promises to be a challenge for the printers. Théo and I will prepare for the exhibition. The photographer will be in charge of printing the photos whilst I pick up my quills for the calligraphy of ten extracts.
NOVEMBER 2009 - Autumn sunshine - A mild 13 ºC
Museums and campsites close for the season.
Book launch and exhibition opening plus theatre premiere in Bourgogne the 6th, 7th and 8th November. The event will be followed by the Salon du livre européen (European book fair) in Dijon the last weekend of the month.
After that, Théo and I might even have a wee holiday, unless of course we decide to organise the exhibition’s tours in France and Scotland, planned for Spring and Summer 2010.
Holidays are over-rated anyway!

Whereas what everybody thinks, pictures don't exist in the nature and books aren't written for themselves. We have
to catch the first ones and tame the seconds a bit as we go hunting butterflies.
That's why Théo and I found refuge in the volcanic centre of France, in Auvergne, between the four walls of a huge farm which we invested from the cowshed to the granary. Into the cellar Théo put up her little paper's factory. Into the attic I put up my desk. Two weeks later the first version of the book is written and two boxes full of recycled papers are waiting for the handmade book's prototype. This is the inventory and report on state of our artists' residence.

On the road it's a necessity to learn to dig out desks for working.
It's a worry ignored by the tourists supposed in essence to be on holidays.
Over the weeks we have developed a kind of sixth sense in terms of detection of offices which are spread by the nature around us. So we have discovered that the pubs were everything but
offices.

I loathe the canteens of youth hotels beacause they close their doors at eleven O'clock and abandon you there in the middle of the hallway.When it happens I usually have to achieve my paragraph
sprawled in front of the toilet door.
On the other hand the parking of the B&B overhanging the harbour in Portree is enclosed by comfortables benches.

In Glencoe the Claichaig Inn has arranged tables in wood at the foot of the mountains and the writer-travellers can leave their sacrosanct pages and run away in the heights.
At the Bruichladdich distillery the stairs have broken my back.
But the warehouses contain row of casks which are standing around you as a library of thousand liquid manuscripts.We could feel the angels leaning over our shoulders and supervising our work,
because they are afraid to see us telling anything wrong about their favorite whisky.
As we come back in France the reality collides with us. I have in my mind the whole story of Clichés
Ecossés, but the hand doesn't want to follow the same rate as the imagination. So I steal here and there fragments of time who hang about.

Antoine de St Exupéry in The little Prince
Because several friends have asked us for it, some texts will be translated in english now, just under the french one. I have to thank people met who have helped us for the translation.
The movement is a necessity for the writing.
When ours steps at last take root somewhere, my hand takes over.
I need the movement of my feet on the earth for taming this of the ink on the paper.
It's sometimes difficult to abandon a place, to leave people and to continue our road.
So I write for paying tribute to them. I take the words for weaving invisible bond which, I hope, will reach them.
We just can't collect encounters as we collect stamps.
We have to let them travel, to let them change us.
The rhythm of our walking is unique. In three or four days we live sometimes what usually takes a very long time to experience. The encounters let us gaze on the other side of the road, astonished, wondering what has happened. Maybe this is the reason why Theo's father has given us the nickname of "the Scotchées"... (in french "scotché" means to be stuck).
It has been hard to have to leave London. We have hide the key under the doormat.
It has been hard to have to leave Inverness. We have let the key in the letter box.
It has been hard to have to leave Muir. We have put down the key on the dasboard of the Land Rover.
But this is the price of the liberty, not to have a key.
This is also the duty of the wandering to carry on the memory of the people we have met. They are the only root we can still rely on.
The ties are the foundations of the traveller. Without them we risk falling.