The Ships

Argh's people are mighty and Argh is strong
No water is there, nor waves, but only hot sand
The keel screams in the quicksand
The ship's strakes lament in the sand
Argh's people do not sail, they do not take to sea,
For Argh's people are mighty and his fortress strong

(From the Songs of the Argh People)
"Under the direction of the Doctor we raised three ships from behind the rear wall of the caved-in cellar in Sector C2. The following form displays what I discovered: smoky, black, blotchy, burnt, a front view clay sculpture of a ship. It is a ship of the ancient Egyptian kind with a prow curling upward from a prismatic base and a stern with a tiller with four serrations. Its central load is a four-stepped pyramid-like sarcophagus, the cover of which was irradiated with a golden and an oval dome weight wrapped in drapes. A broad flight of steps leads from the prow to the sarcophagus, with an accompanying flight of diminishing size on either side. Five pole-top cylinders extend along the long side of the wide base of the sarcophagus. Inside the cube-shaped chest at the end of the deck stand tightly packed clay slates. In front of them lie three scrolls (ancient parchments)."

From Annemarie Courtambert's notes at the ruins of the Growing City:
"...the night moths fall sizzling into my candle flame and I begin to identify with them.
These vessels are not related to the idea of travel. Their creators' hands were not guided by some submerged "desire of Voyages" or "desire of sailing". There is nothing here of the ship's ethereal flight, of the water caressing the ship's body in the still-scorching heat of the sinking sun.
The role is to be found in the cargo, in symbols, with the weight of which the curtains of everyday life are breached... These are the vessels of memory with the weight of their symbol-loaded cargo in which we flounder as we search for its meaning. It is probable that the final journey of the dead person's ashes towards their last resting-place requires some kind of dignity, which here the vessel lends to the dwellers of the bare and barren mountains. Here, the seemingly random objects create a considerable personal burden. Memories of journeys and sword stabs in tight straits are mixed with the sign of the successful conclusion to the wild boar hunt. All of this around the decorative container, which when broken open releases nothing but colourless ashes...
The ashes that remain from flame-licked royal bodies. Why do horn and dagger protect the dome? Why does the first wind not disperse this grey nothingness..." (What follows cannot be published due to its personal nature. The editor.)
Ship I.
eramic, gold leaf · 28 × 77 × 22 cm
Ship II.
ceramic, gold leaf