We have finally gotten out of Fenestrelle. A relief, as all the work and cold and sickness came from there, and after we moved out of Meizoun, no place to go home to. In Torino we are staying at an elegant apartment with large ceilings and lots of ‘space’, and wireless internet! Can’t wait to get a shower there!

Here is a photo from the post inauguration party at Tui Tui sent by Sergio. Finally -- Al our photographer and Patrick in the front on the right! That's birthday boy Gianni at the back in the yellow scarf with Gabriella. Also Renato and Sergio. There's Jeff, too, right next to JC's lifted wine glass. The clinking of the glasses went on all night with toasts to everyone for everything! And afterwards, when we tried to pay the bill: the price per person went up by 10 euros, even though the courses were more limited! No matter what, I couldn’t talk him down. I should have gotten a quote before we sat to eat. Sometimes, you just can't let your guard down.



We all packed up, stuffed our suitcases, shook hands, kissed on both cheeks, walked through the snow to the car. JC went back into the church one last time, with a promise that Gord would not follow. Patrick spent a long time settling the big bill at Meizoun, as Jeff, Jaz and Erik waited at the bus stop at the top of the street in the foot of snow, laden with their bags. Rendezvous in Torino at BC Canada Place, where we met with staff about logo logistics. JC is front and center helping us out, thank Mio Dio for him!



Our next challenge: the logo for Vancovuer 2010 in ice. A party with the Minister of Sport, Art & Culture on February 8th. I am putting together a slide show of the making of the paintings.

Tomorrow Gord and JC go back to Fenestrelle. Raphaele agreed to drive the plate down in his truck, (he's going to Torino anyway, to pick up an official 2006 Olympics volunteer jacket). The Forte is closed today and tomorrow; Gord will pour the logo painting and return after dark. Peter stays in Fenestrelle to check on the paintings. I want to go back and hike in the snow, it's just too soon. We all need a break.

Jaz still looks unwell, his face is swollen, he is tired, looks wiped out, says his throat still hurts. Everyone else has recovered.

Gord makes the mistake of checking on the exhibit, flooding, making sure the lights are just so. People are streaming in all day, one family of five stays for over 35 minutes. The children really like the work.



Peter isn't even in the building and the red and blue painting in the corner crashes to the ground.



Then a few minutes later, the horizontal painting slides off its metal bar. Patrick sweeps the ice shards and suddenly the crew is back at work; Erik looking for shards left in the snow by the door for new paintings, Gord putting the pieces together, JC & Patrick figuring out the dynamics of what happened.



It was in the warmest corner of the building, and the other painting wasn't supported properly. I notice later that the piece I saved from the dumpster is missing from its place outside in the snow.



Later, after everything has been re-installed, Peter and Erik have their wet feet up near the fire at Cafe des forcats. No one wanted to work today. We're tired of the cold. Jaz is still not really better.

Snow like rain, the most here since 1985. Minus 3. We have to take the bus because the roads are so bad.



Excitement at breakfast, we have a few hours to clean up the church before quindici ore, 3 o’clock. We are all proud of the work! Showtime!



The President of the Region of Piemonte arrives, dressed in Olympic blue. Giugiaro, Italy’s top designer opens a retrospective of his work on the same day and at the same time at the fort -- we share the stage with him, but it seems to be all about Pitture Sotto Zero! Giugiaro is so famous and so respected in Italy that all the Italian journalists are here, but some of it is undoubtedly our unusual exhibit.



Everyone gathers in Cafe des forcats. We see Clareta and Alessandra, Piero Addis and Paolo Facelli, Allessandro Isaia from Organising Committee for the XX Olympic Winter Games, and Barbara Papuzzi. Gabi and Gianni, Sergio and Renato and the beautiful surpise of the day: Piero’s daughter, whom I promptly introduce to Erik and Jaz. The crew still dressed in paint-stained ski pants and jackets. Gord dons a black shirt and an Ice Painting Project scarf.



Let it snow. Outside they hold up umbrellas against the falling white and we walk in groups through a foot of snow to the Governor’s Palace. Flashbulbs go off like fireworks as speeches are made in Italian. Gord says thank you to everyone in a very short English paragraph.



Then the procession to the church, Gord and the President of the Region of Piemonte cut the ribbon to the door of the chiesa, Gord in his red jacket, the President in his blue.



The crowd walks through the church, looking everywhere. Because of the bad weather we have perhaps 65 people.



Gord wants everyone to experience it for themselves, but Gabriella explains in Italian anyway.



Giugiaro speaks to Gord, so pleased with the work. His group looks at Gord with a friendly professional jealousy: they went on to become designers, Gord stayed with painting and look at what he has done!



The night before, like Christmas eve, was magic. Sasa Petricic kept us up late in the church, filming everything for a segment on The National. The snow, Gord’s worst nightmare, fell relentlessly, beautiful, quiet, making another kind of world at the fort.



Erik and Jaz took slabs of ice in the wheelbarrow to the dumpster as instructed by Gord. We all suffered to lose our favorite pieces, Erik and I stole a couple pieces, red and blue, to place around the fort: discoveries for hikers. But the snow covers them all. Today, we're all exhausted.

A day and a half to go and Gord gets sick last night. But he was up this morning and they're in the church now. Jeff is just hanging in there, working to get the final lighting installed, before he collapses. The church itself looks more colourful than ever, a new painting on the stage. Everyone else seems to be recovering.



Am receiving the RSVP's, lots of people will be here, a contingent of ten from TOROC, two from Government of Canada. Yesterday more children came through the exhibit, and last night there were only four at dinner. Snow everywhere, finally!

The power is back on in Fenestrelle!

The power just went out from Mentoulles to Fenestrelle. Al and I were working on the programme for the opening, and suddenly he felt sick. Lights went out. He couldn't get out the electrical door. I pushed the emergency button, it opened. Gord came in, "Power is out in the church!"

I'm in Rosa Rossa, luckily the phone line works here for internet. It's dark, just like in Roberts Creek during a storm. Erik home sick today after lunch. Three down and the rest of us walking wounded. Except Peter, Gord, and me, so far.

It's snowing and really really cold! Good thing we can leave the church doors open.I left my gloves at home.

-13 celsius, and a snow cloud hovers. 2 days to go, flurries! Mara came into the church with Romeo, the little dog she has everywhere, exclaiming, “Tutti sono belli.” and “meno male, piu freddo!” We’re all glad the temperature has gone down.



After two days away the work has taken on some kind of grandeur. Now the floor paintings look like huge icebergs in cold, expansive waters; the smaller paintings with more depth and variety are displayed on the walls. I knew it would be magnificent, but I couldn’t have imagined how.



And last night Gord said at the dinner table, “Remember the days when it was okay to break the ice?” Everyone laughed. “Well, those days are over!”

Jaz and JC sick all last night. Jeff too. JC says it’s because they just can’t get warm. Jaz under a pile of covers @ Meizoun, still not enough heat. Al hasn’t been here long enough to catch anything; Gord and Erik are the only two untouched so far. In the apartment where we are staying, the bathroom is too cold and the water barely tepid, Gord hasn’t had a shower for four days. We’re all just keeping our eyes on the prize.

Late into the night, Erik and I had a conversation about the temporal nature of the work. How Erik puts his best into a piece, and then it crumbles. Or Gord has it chopped up or broken to make another painting. Here is everyone crashing the work to create the huge slabs on the floor painting.



For Erik it was about looking into the work for what could be uncovered yet from it; about not being able to hold onto something beautiful that you have created; how the definition of art has changed with the experience of this work; not as something that you finish and put up on the wall, but something that still has more to reveal. For me, it’s a visceral experience of the evolving, ever-changing nature of everything, a statement to all of us about the striving for beauty and perfection, for riches and security, for fame and adulation, only to find that once achieved it has already changed. Even the Olympic medals are won in secondsl. Everything is in motion.

Then they spent the morning throwing out chunks of perfectly beautiful paintings onto the dust pile behind the stone wall.

Le Olympiadi sono qui

Four more days, not counting Saturday! I’m at Canada House online -- and just saw the headlines about our new Prime Minister. Wow, it's strange to be here, but wonderful. The sound track on the BC Moments slide show beats the drums, and visitors to the house stream past me as I type away.

News from "la chiesa" via Patrick (who went back on the bus yesterday morning) The church floor now has color on it; some slabs of previously made paintings. Jaz went to the doctor, has tonsilitis, got antibiotics and is in bed today. Crew worked late, went back after supper. Lots of photos.



I met at BC House yesterday re: Feb 8th unveiling of Vancouver 2010 logo, a Sports, Arts & Culture event they’re calling ‘Chill Out in Canada’ with some obvious tie-ins to Paintings Below Zero. Apparently there’s a good buzz about the exhibit! They've decided to unveil the logo painting at the event and feature Gord's work!



Lori says two producers at The Today Show are interested in doing a story on Paintings Below Zero! Tom Harrington at CBC said "there's an excellent chance." I’ve been on the phone all morning. Thank you Lori and Jeff for your help on press release wire service and forwarding our info to NBC & NY! Fingers crossed!

(Walking down Via Girabaldi to BC Canada House for internet while Italy is at lunch, past all the sales in the stores, Saldi, Saldi, Saldi! 50% off, mannequins in the windows.



Meeting tonite with Barbara Papuzzi TOROC's PR person for Cultural Olympiad. She stood me up to answer emails, she's so busy. I sat in her office until almost nine, then went out into the streets, looking for a restaurant in the dark. Barbara has put us on the itinerary for press bus tours on Sundays. I'm feeling homesick, esp with election news, but after all this time, not really sure where home IS I want to be. Can't wait to get back to the crew, they must be exhausted, but excited! I keep seeing these signs: Le Olympiadi sono qui

The opening was glorious, delectable morsels, good wine, and I felt homesick when they screened a ‘BC Moments’ sort of video after the speeches by officials from BC and Torino in English, French & Italian. Here's Gaby, Gianni, Nav and me, posing!



We met next to the yellow flags in the Piazza Valdo Fusi and saw Gabriella's very impressive exhibit, hugely supported from many sources, with fake ice cubes and scarves for sale in the gift shoppe. Admission at the door. Ice wine displayed. Guides. She walked us through, explaining many things about the once-nomadic aboriginal people of the north.

I’m at my desk in the large piano room at Soddu’s elegant apartment in Torino. Down the hall, Italian conversation, silverware clinking. The family is out for lunch until 4 pm. “Pronto” here doesn’t really mean fast, or ready, it means ‘now’ and we’ve just go to get used to it. Lack of internet access makes me feel like a drug addict; all I can think of is: how am I going to get my next online connection? 24 emails to press to send out tomorrow; appointments to keep; blog etc. BC House has internet, maybe they'll let me.

Woke this am to a dusting of snow which promptly melted.The heat is not helping the paintings. I saw a big painting against the wall of the Cafe des forcats actually staining the church wall. Some parts of the ice substructure are not freezing as quickly as others. Yesterday Erik, Jaz and Jeff climbed up the scaffolding to close off the sunbeam drilling away at the paintings.



Last night I woke up in a panic, remembering Art’s email instructions sent the day before. He warned us to check for leaks in certain places, for fear of a big melt down. This AM discovery: sure enough, a valve had been accidentally shut off! Turned it back on and the temperature on the plates went down almost immediately. Whew!

Jaz has the fever-flu going around; he’s been suffering in silence, finally we forced him to stay home so he can be strong when the crunch is on.



Al is our latest crew member and he sees everything as if for the first time, even as we walk past too quickly. We've all contributed to the photos posted on the blog!! Here's one from Jeff, taken on one of the walks to Fenestrelle from Mentoulles.



Tonite: the Opening of BC Canada House, time to press the flesh, pass out invitations. Patrick & I are both tired, happy to be doing nothing on the bus for a couple of hours. It’s Sunday and the sunshine feels blessed out the window. Smog alert; it’s eerie how few cars are on the road. The sky is blue.

It was warm, warm, warm today, weather to die for, but a nerve wracking complication. Little children in the church, Alessandra’s class! Gord began flooding the substructure. He’s getting ready to make the huge floor paintings. I've never seen the church so neat and tidy.



Al arrived this morning. Everyone else was at the church when he handed me his heavy bags out the back door of the bus and we dragged them down the street in the middle of a glorious day. We tore into them at the apartment as if opening a treasure chest: the banners, the scarves, Christmas mail from home, vitamins, invitations, Glenn Gould...! Thank you Al! (and Nancy and Donna back home, who helped pack the bags and gathered the stuff!!)

By the time we got to the chiesa, the schoolchildren were crowding around the paintings. We had invited Alessandra's class.



Alessandra, Sylvia and Egedio’s daughter, the beautiful eight-year-old who cheers us up with her smiles every night while we have supper at Meizoun.



I looked around at the grins on everyone’s faces as the children each picked up a piece of ice from the floor. Peter, whose idea it was to invite the children, was on a scaffold covering the windows against the light.



That beautiful circular window has to be blacked out. It's just too hot in the church. On Sunday, no cars are allowed to drive in Torino because of the pollution! What about buses and taxis? I am supposed to going the opening of BC Canada House.



Patrick has taken over communication with Sylvia now that we’re off site. Everyday we go to the bank machine and withdraw. The lack of “carte di credito” is nerve wracking, and extremely inconvenient, but they all want cash. For everything. It’s not so bad facing it once a month when you’re ready to open the envelope of bills and you prepare yourself mentally. . . .but everyDAY!



Tui Tui’s. The “other Alessandra” a twenty-something Italian beauty, was our guest tonite and the young guys crowded around her at the table. I called her “la principessa della cena”; she held court confidently, alternating between English, French and Italian. Her father, Raphaele, owns the apartment where Gord and I are now staying. I keep seeing the same people in the streets of Mentoulles, and I know them!

Al and I took the hour walk home in the dark woods on the path along the river with a flashlight; saw the fortezza stretching up the mountain under the stars. Mara kissed me on each cheek today!

Counting down . . .7, 6 . . . Inaugurazione... next Saturday!

Ten days to go, and it was even warmer today. Had to make sure the doors to the church were closed. On the ice plates, it was 10 below. Near the top of the columns, only minus 1. And outside? 10 degrees! This makes Gord a bit testy.



The paintings have become . . . big. Now jagged slabs of colour lie about, bold and dramatic. The ice is more fragile than glass and then, as Peter says, “you stick to it.” Paintings everywhere, less and less space to walk, how to manage all without breaking it? They've got to do the floor soon!



Last night Gord got up and wrote himself notes on my computer at 1 am. Jeff has already covered some of the windows in blue to begin the lighting.



Some things are coming together and some are falling apart. I overheard Mara on the telephone and I could understand enough to know she was recruiting people to act as guides once the show opens. At one point they were going to put a rope across the church door with an “at-your-own-risk” disclaimer. But Gord insisted and thank Mio Dio because there’s a bit of thickness to get through here not speaking the language. You start talking to someone through a translator and they don’t translate! They get involved with how to solve the problem before they’re stated what it is! And then everyone is talking at the same time -- in Italian. So, I wrote a letter to Mara clarifying ‘our position’, and thanks to some quick work back home with translation (grazie, Anna Maria and Lara Roldo) one of the higher-ups in the organization who was touring the ‘mostra’ said himself, “Yes, it’s obvious we need guides.” So that’s coming together!



Al should be here tonite, and we’ve rented another apartment for the overflow, as Patrick is the extra guy, and Juliana is expected in Fenestrelle after the 24th. We’re all teamed up two to a room and no one is complaining because they’re good sports but there have been snoring issues and three to a bathroom is just too much. I tried to make it up to Sylvia by telling her I was arranging for a group to have dinner at the Meizoun with us, but she wouldn’t have any of it. We’re very similar, but my patience is thin, we're all feeling the pressure.

Just discovered the notes from family and friends on the blog! What a delight! Congratulations Phillip and Debi! Mark, we're waiting for that photo of Gord and the hose in the backyard, when you twins were just little tykes, smoothing down the ice! Therese, Mary, hello! thanks for the news and thoughts! Jo-anne, Jeff was glad to get your post, I read it outloud at dinner. Christine in Saskatchewan? JC is now featured regularly here! We love hearing there's someone out there, cheering us on!

Warm winds today. Jeff & Renato at the church unloading lighting equipment. I am sitting at Rosa Rossa, a bar in Fenestrelle, my computer hooked into their phone line! It works!!!



Last night I stood in the below freezing dark as small cars whizzed by within inches of me at the Mentoulles bus stop for about a half hour waiting for Jeff to finally arrive, and I was glad I did, he looked so happy to see a familiar face! It was almost eight and everyone was seated around the table to toast his arrival. After all, if the exhibit isn’t lit -- who will be able to see all that complexity? From Canada, he brought a puck!! (thank you Ross & Nancy!) and The Globe & Mail! Everyone wanted to see what was happening at home, we sat with our noses in the paper, discussed politics briefly. Peter was on a roll. I think Sylvia is again trying to impress us with her excellent cooking because she heard (everyone knows everyone in Mentoulles) that I had looked at an apartment (we have more people than Meizoun can hold). Another excellent meal, she can really turn it on -- the pasta some creamy thing with walnuts. Waiting for Jeff, I saw Raphael, who is host at the new apartment. He was unloading two new mattresses from a truck, in preparation for us! Tomorrow Al.

Peter, who is a fine art print maker on Granville Island by profession, seems to have taken to the job of polishing up the ice; he rubs off the frost and shines the pieces to sparkling. (Peter wears in green in past photos, he doesn’t like to pose for pictures). Erik, one of the 'cubs' who mixes colors and pours the paint, has introduced the idea of the ‘Chart of Shame’, for number of paintings accidentally smashed, and JC and Peter are at the top. JC has broken 15 pieces! Yesterday Peter broke an exceptionally beautiful one. Gord seems not bothered by it at all; he uses everything and he acknowledges the here-today-gone-tomorrow nature of the medium.



Today Mara’s office is closed, so -- to Sestriere for internet. Patrick & I get there: it doesn’t work! No explanation. Agggggh! I’ve got the opening press release, the programme for the opening, Gord’s potential exhibit at BC Canada House -- press communications, all written up on my laptop, can’t send them! Plus the blog. Patrick picked up a card for his Italian cell phone but couldn’t activate it. Agh! At 1 oclock, after 30 minutes on a filthy computer at Flower Power the senora announced closing! for three hours! Aggggh! The simplest things in North America: a cell phone and internet.



On the other hand, where do you find this in North America? Here, generations have lived in these buildings, the young have become old walking these steps.

Out the window, I see blue Torino 2006 banners against white snow. I'm on a bus around hairpin turns on the winding alpine road down from Sestriere. You can see that the Olympics are almost here: fences being constructed, bleachers at the foot of the mountain and carabinieri, (policemen) lots of them, everywhere in all sorts of different uniforms. Still no new snow. But today clouds on the peaks. This is Pragelato, where the ski jump competitions will be held.



I met the French ski team at lunch! My first omelette in a month; we witnessed the sous chef yelling at a table of guests - “e un artist!” and hasty, righteous Italian for: “if you don’t like it, go to another restaurant”. A lot of bluff here, Italians love to talk talk to each other with raised voices at the same time, much hand waving and arm movement. In these stand-offs, the customer is rarely right.

We’re waiting for Jeff to arrive from Torino. Patrick twisted his ankle and walked from Fenestrelle to Mentoulles -- on the highway! Maybe the laundry is dry today? My cough continues ... strictly because it’s so dry here.

On the weekend a man and his family came into Mara’s office breathless and speaking quickly in French. His daughter had heard about the installation and tried to find where it was, so she could study it for a thesis. By the time they found us, they’d already been to several forts in the area. They were so full of joy and excitement after having seen the exhibit-in-progress and they’re coming back for the opening.



The paintings seem to be travelling light speed towards some new dimension. Every day after work in Mara’s office, sometimes at 6, sometimes at 6:30, I am cast out into the piazza in the crisp, cold darkness. Lately, a moon.

The crew in the chiesa move around all day, so if not exactly ‘warm’, their bodies have adjusted. I stand at the edge of the work and shiver as the cold seeps through my ski pants. Anyway, the paintings. Gord is somehow doubling up on them. Just when the crew falls in love with a painting, Gord instructs JC to have at it with a saw, or the painting itself surprises everyone and cracks. Of course Gord is looking for the uneven surfaces.



What is emerging is a strange visual language from what surrounds us: the jagged mountains, the marble of Carrera, the intricacy of the ice in the river (above) and its translucence, the molecular patterns of snow, and color and light. I have just never seen anything like it before. Below is one which no longer exists, it has been morphed into another painting.



A lot of tension today, who knows why? I have been coughing the past 3 nights. Sylvia is grumpy; we abandoned her restaurant for Tui Tui last night and had a wonderful dinner. She could be offended and is using as an excuse, the complaint which was never made about the dog! We are all feeling sorry for the dog, when he howls, it seems like he is really in pain. Sylvia says that he is ‘in love’ but I’ve always thought that dogs in heat (object of his affection) are usually in that condition in the spring and summer.



At Tui Tui, as is the custom at restaurants in this region, the woman is “la cuocoa” and the man is out front charming the the guests. Tui Tui's owner operator Gilberto, is 70 years old, and can somehow delight his guests speaking in a language they barely understand. Our dinner brought out all the oohs and ahhs; we were casting about for ways to say how much we appreciated how delicious and generous it was.