Strandkuns / beach art

As kind was die lekkerste deel van die seevakansie nie die golwe in die see, die roomys wat smelt en op die sand drup of die balspeletjies op die strand nie. Nee, dit was die emmertjie en grafie waarmee ek my eie kuns kon skep in die sand, net om later te kyk hoe die gety die sandkasteel wegspoel.

Dis om hierdie rede dat ek altyd stilstaan by die kunstenaars wat geduldig, dag vir dag, beelde skep in die sand in die hoop op ‘n donasie van die publiek. Vir sommige van hulle is dit die enigste inkomste wat vanaand die brood op die tafel plaas. Die ligging is belangrik, want hier is die idee nie dat die hooggety die ure se harde werk in son en wind moet wegspoel nie.

Ek het hierdie week so ‘n kunstenaar dopgehou waar hy vroegoggend die kunstige sandbeelde van die vorige dag, wat deur onnadenkende verbygangers stukkend geskop en beskadig is, met toewyding en konsentrasie herstel. Hy dra emmertjies vol seewater aan om die sand klam te maak en vorm dan die beelde met ‘n roomysstokkie. Toe ek hom uitvra na die opsigtelike skade, was hy nie baie spraaksaam nie, maar in sy oë was die ontnugtering van harde handewerk, met groot verwagting verrig, wat met minagting behandel word.

ENGLISH

As a child, the best part of the seaside holiday was not the waves in the sea, the ice cream that melts and drips on the sand or the ball games on the beach. No, it was the little bucket and spade with which I could create my own art in the sand, just to watch the waves washing away the sandcastle at high tide.

This is the reason why I always stop to admire the work of the artists who patiently create images in the sand in the hope of a donation from the public. For some of them, it’s the only income that puts the bread on the table at night. The location is important because here the idea is not that the high tide should flush away the art that was created by toiling for hours in the sun and the wind.

I watched one such artist this week in the act of repairing, with dedication and concentration, a sand image created the previous day which has been trampled and damaged by thoughtless passersby. He fetched buckets filled with seawater to dampen the sand and then reformed the images with an ice cream stick. When I asked him about the deliberate damage, he was not very talkative, but his eyes reflected the disillusionment with the contemptuous treatment of his hard work, created with such high expectation of appreciation.