i visited the letterman today
The Letterman sits on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea and looks toward Nice. He might be a guardian or a protector but his posture suggests someone more passive, pensive.
I call him the Letterman because he is made of letters; he is a sculpture made of letters by Jaume Plensa. His real name is “Nomade.” In French that means nomadic or traveller. He is maybe a flâneur.
Looking toward Nice on the ramparts of Antibes, the Letterman is hard to see among the distractions around him, the masts of the boats, the fort, the Alps in the distance which are often white, the same color as the Letterman.
Walking around him and looking at the Letterman from different directions always surprises. The sun at varying times during the day casts light shadows through him along the walls and across the earth and never permits a similar experience with each visit. (Click on a photo to see more.)
Inside–step inside, please–he is quite wonderful. Turn to the left or to the right or look up and one sees the world through a screen, translated for you by language, but ignore that world and look at the letters instead and that world disappears and words appear and combinations of letters that mean nothing. Maybe.
You can put those letters together and words and literature come to be inside him. You and he have created something. (Click on a photo to see more.)
The Letterman is enclosed by walls. He is a work of art, after all. One is discouraged from sitting on those walls for fear of falling into the sea and perishing. Some windows and doors, which open from them, are closed off, always.
But one can walk away from the Letterman on top of a very long wall that partially blocks access to Antibes, a protecting wall that discourages invaders. (Click on a photo to see more.)
A sign posted on the wall adjacent to the Lettermn reminds the visiter that he is a work of art, a sculpture, and asks, “Please do not climb.” The warning goes unheeded, often.