Six Things, Volume 157
Nigel | Art & Sports | Flamingogogo | Repeatyversionseries | Flight | Horsle
Thing 1 – Nigel
This is the story of Nigel. It is, on the face of it, a sad story, one of loneliness, woe and despair. But it’s not for us to judge the lives of others by our own standards. For all we know, Nigel was—
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Who, you might be asking, was Nigel?
Nigel was a gannet.
He lived and died on Mana, a small island off the southwest coast of New Zealand’s North Island. Mana is something of a conservation flagship island. The New Zealand Department of Conservation took over its management in 1987. First thing they did, they killed all the mice (they spared the lawyers). Mice on an island like Mana are bad news. They eat eggs, they eat chicks, they even eat adult birds. If you want seabirds, you don’t want mice.
With the mice eradicated, the programme could begin in earnest, the plan being to reintroduce species that had once called Mana their home. Plants, invertebrates, reptiles, birds – this last group including things like robins, takahe, kiwi, plovers, parakeets, petrels, prions, shearwaters.
And gannets.
The plan was this. Make Mana the kind of place gannets might want to live. In fact, make it look as if there were already gannets living there, so any new arrivals would think they were joining a thriving colony. They painted the rocks white to simulate guano; they played recordings of gannet calls through loudspeakers; they made 100 concrete replica gannets and repainted them regularly, maintaining the illusion.
In 2000, no gannets came. In 2001, no gannets came. In 2002, no gannets came. In 2003, no gannets came.
You get the idea.
And then Nigel came. Oddly, nobody can quite agree when – some time between 2013 and 2015 seems to be the consensus – but when he did, he made his mark. The concrete birds did their work, and Nigel fell for it. He took a shine to one of them – he groomed it, courted it, tried to mate with it. There was no response. Easy enough for us to chuckle at this, to mock this inability to distinguish inanimate from living. But then we’re not as confused as Nigel.
The envisioned colony never materialised. In 2016, no more gannets came. In 2017, no more gannets came. In 2018, three more gannets came. At last, companions for Nigel.
He ignored them for a few weeks, then – in an act of quite magnificent curmudgeonliness, an absolute and terminal “fuck you” to gannetkind – died.
RIP Nigel.
His death brought him posthumous fame. Features were written in reputable publications, the island’s rangers were interviewed. The outpouring of grief for this distant bird prompted people to compose songs, make art, and – inevitably (oh god) – write poems.
The universal assumption is that Nigel lived a sad and lonely life. “No mates”, they called him. “The world’s loneliest seabird”. Playing in to this view is the suggestion that his arrival on Mana was the result of his exclusion from another colony. He roamed the wide oceans in search of companionship, eventually having to make do with imaginary stony friends. Poor, poor Nigel. Always an outsider, condemned to a life of utter loneliness, driven to the last resort of falling in love with a fake bird. A sorry tale of unrequited gannet love.
But here’s the thing.
Perhaps Nigel was happy. Perhaps he desired nothing more than the company of his concrete congeners. Perhaps, to him, they represented all that was good about his fellow gannets – the elegance, the gawkiness, the delicious peachy colour of the head – without all the disadvantages: the constant squawking, the ammonia smell of piles of gannet shit, the chaos and mess and lack of peace that comes with thousands of individuals existing cheek by jowl. Perhaps, when he found Mana, his first thought was “thank fuck for that”.
We will never know, and that’s exactly as it should be.
Thing 2 – Art & Sports
I’m a big fan of the Instagram account artbutmakeitsports. A simple idea, beautifully executed – pairing famous works of art with sports photography. There’s a nice interview with L J Rader, who runs the account, here. And now there’s a book, too.
Thing 3 – Flamingogogo
I like automata.
I like flamingos.
I like experts explaining how they do things.
Enough said.
(Thanks to Chris Coates of the excellent Odd This Day for sending me this)
Thing 4 – Repeatyversionseries
Thanks to Daniel Benneworth-Gray’s excellent Meanwhile newsletter for highlighting the excellent genre “artists making repeated versions of the same thing” and for asking a) why there isn’t already a name for this kind of thing and b) what we should call it. I’ve drawn a blank so far, but you’re a clever lot, so no doubt you’ll come up with a snappy, searchable name in no time.
Daniel’s examples are Hokusai’s Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji, Henri Rivière’s Thirty-Six Views of the Eiffel Tower and Joel Meyerowitz’s Empire State series. I’ve added Monet’s Haystacks and Rouen Cathedral, along with the latter’s offshoot by photographer Andy Marshall, Wells In A Day. Any more?
Thing 5 – Flight
You’ll believe a man can fly!
Maybe.
Thing 6 – Horsle
I think this might be the hardest daily game yet. Sorry, everyone.
I think the best thing about the man trying to fly is that he’s wearing a collar and tie.
Poor Nigel!