From Vanuatu to Riga – a Journey of Art

From Vanuatu to Riga – a Journey of Art

Prologue: A Leap into the Unknown

It was only a small hop across the Pacific – a modest flight from Brisbane in Australia to Vanuatu, right in the heart of Oceania. The island lay beneath clouds, and it was no weather for the beach. We stayed in a small resort directly by the sea – we had dreamed of long walks along the shore, but they did not happen. A cyclone had washed the beach away only weeks earlier, leaving behind a strip of rugged coastline.

Of course, we didn’t remain idle. We explored Port Vila, let the streets, markets, and encounters carry us along. And then the local newspaper fell into our hands – we still have it today, the pages already slightly yellowed. Inside was a large article about an artists’ colony at the entrance to the Erakor Lagoon. A clue that would lead our Vanuatu adventure in a completely different direction.

What’s On, October 12, 2008: Article on the N. Michoutouchkine & A. Pilioko Foundation in Port Vila. A yellowed page, opening memory like a door.

A Colorful Paradise at the Edge of the Lagoon

Palms, cats, dancers – bathed in yellow, as if the sun itself had settled here.

The entrance itself was a promise: palm trees, not green but painted in a radiant yellow. Stones, as colorful as a painting, rested on every slat of the fence. And in between: small works of art, painted, decorated, unexpected – an open-air exhibition.

We stood there, surprised, almost bewildered, and instantly knew: this was no ordinary place. Someone had drenched the world in yellow and brushed it with pastel, as if to make the everyday shimmer. And yet, it was no museum, no sterile gallery – but a living, breathing home, full of contradictions and charm.

An inner courtyard full of colors, plants, and treasures – Aloi in the midst of his yellow world – host, artist, storyteller.

Encounter in the Pavilion

The pavilion at the edge of the lagoon – here we laughed, talked, and sometimes fell silent, while the ocean roared in the background.

Behind all the colors, hidden among the palms, we found ourselves in a simple pavilion. The ocean roared in the distance, as if it were providing the backdrop for our meeting. We sat there, laughing, chatting – and realized that it wasn’t only the art that touched us, but also the people behind it.

Aloi, quiet, almost reserved, with a gaze that revealed more depth than his words ever did. Nicolai, in contrast, was the spirited one – the storyteller, the negotiator, leading the price discussions with irresistible charm.

Almost shy, yet determined, Aloi took us on a tour through his colorful, artistically designed house. Colors, shapes, found objects – everything blended into one another. We were left almost speechless, standing in awe in a universe of creativity and life. And then he revealed his secret: „I always paint with music. Even my flowers love music,“ he said – and suddenly the whole room seemed to resonate.

A garden like a dream: totems among palms, stories between heaven and earth.

Two Lives for Art

Two men, two worlds – united in color, friendship, and a shared life for art.

Two men, two life paths that crossed and never parted again. Nicolai Michoutouchkine, a cosmopolitan with Russian roots, a collector of stories and colors. And Aloi Pilioko, born on a small island in the Pacific, quieter in demeanor, yet with a distinctive touch that made both fabric and canvas glow.

They met in New Caledonia, recognized themselves in each other like a mirror, and became inseparable. Together they traveled across Oceania, drew inspiration, and created a body of work as vibrant as the islands themselves. Their art was never just decoration – it was a way of life, an expression, an act of encounter.

A Third Neighbor: Paul Gardissat

And then there was Paul Gardissat – musician, writer, artist. He too lived in the neighborhood of Nicolai and Aloi, and we were fortunate enough to meet him in person.

Paul, an Algerian-French man, had lived in Port Vila since the 1960s. Vanuatu owes him a great deal: he recorded oral traditions, preserved the islands’ early string music, and made them accessible. His name remains inseparably linked with the book Nabanga – a work that saved stories before they could be swept away by the currents of modernization.

From Paul we received something very special: two pairs of life-sized figures, carved from the wood of Black Palm trees from the island of Ambrym. Without much fuss, he sent them to Brussels, to his gallerist friend Anette. We traveled there, marveled at the powerful, archaic sculptures – and soon afterwards a shipping company delivered them to our home.

One pair stood from then on in front of our house, the second at the far end of the property, overlooking the lake. They became guardians of our everyday life, sentinels between present and memory. And yes – they did bring us luck.

We still keep Paul’s kind email, written back then:

“Finally, I am very pleased to send you the second pair (man and woman) from the island of Ambrym. I hope these two statues please you and remind you of your journey to Vanuatu. I also think Edith will be delighted to see these memories in your garden in spring.” – Paul

Two guardians carved from black palm wood – steadfast in summer’s green and in winter’s white. They braved wind, weather, and snow, and brought us luck through the years.

Paintings for Our Home

Aloi Pilioko: Colors that dance – rhythm under palm trees, a feast of patterns and faces.

Of course, we could not resist. Before us lay colors, patterns, stories – and at some point, it was clear: a piece of this paradise had to travel with us. We chose paintings by Aloi, large and luminous, made for high walls and a home with space for dreams. Acrylic on canvas could be rolled up and – not entirely without trouble – carried in our luggage.

But that was not the end of it. We stayed in contact with Nicolai by email. One day he showed us a new work – acrylic on plywood, immense in its presence. At once we saw the perfect place for it in our house. And so this monumental painting made its way across the world to Germany.

And there it hung – not merely as decoration, but as a window into another world. Each time our eyes passed over it, we heard again the roar of the ocean, felt the tropical air, saw Aloi’s smile and Nicolai’s sparkling gaze. It was as if we had brought a piece of Vanuatu into our home.

A Gift of Farewell

As a farewell, Aloi gave us another picture – Femme au poisson from 1973, a work on paper. He wrote a dedication for both of us. By mistake, he wrote “Edwig” instead of Edith. Nicolai noticed it immediately, and Aloi was visibly embarrassed. But I couldn’t help but smile.

“Edwig,” I thought, sounds almost like “eternal.” And that is how I see it to this day: a small, quiet promise that memory and art endure – eternal.

From Vanuatu to Riga

But life has its way: houses change, rooms grow smaller, and the wide walls for large paintings eventually disappear. With a heavy heart, we parted with Nicolai’s work on plywood. Yet rather than letting it gather dust in the shadows, we sought a place where it could breathe.

That is how we found the Museum of Pacific & Oceanic Arts in Riga. Vanuatu and Latvia may seem far apart – and yet, it felt right. In a house filled with Oceanian voices, Nicolai’s painting would find a new home. We wrote, explained, and in time, the painting began its journey.

It arrived just last week. Soon, an exhibition will follow, and we already know: we will fly to Riga to witness the moment when these colors shine once more – this time before many eyes, not just our own.

Nicolai Michoutouchkine: Colors full of stories – their journey took them from our home to the Museum of Pacific & Oceanic Arts in Riga.

Afterword: A Circle Closes

Sometimes circles close quietly, almost unexpectedly. Our path led us from a pavilion at the edge of the lagoon to a museum in the north of Europe. In between lay years, memories, a home in which the paintings had become part of our everyday life.

Now we know: Nicolai and Aloi live on – in colors, in forms, in stories. Their work carries the tropics within it, the laughter beneath palm trees, the roar of the ocean. And it also carries a piece of us, who for one unforgettable afternoon were allowed to be part of their paradise.

Perhaps Nicolai would smile at this new place, perhaps Aloi would quietly nod. As for us – we feel gratitude, and a deep sense of anticipation for Riga, where memory will come alive once more.

A handwritten greeting – a memory that remains when words have long since faded.