Humour in Sign-Posts

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23169, 15 October 1938, Page 13 (Supplement)

Humour in Sign-Posts

BRIENZ is the home of Swiss wood carving. From Brienz come those little Swiss chalets that tell their owners whether it is going to be wet or fine, by the figures which emerge from the, doors; and the wooden bears, carved with loving care and depicted in the most ridiculous positions, serving, if they are big, to hold up settees or coat racks, or, if they are smaller, mere matchboxes or glasses—but making up for it by playing gay tunes if their burdens are lifted. But times change, and it was instable that charming little Brienz, pestling on tho north shore of one of Switzerland's prettiest lakes, at the toot of the Rothorn, with a glorious >iew over the water to Eiger, tho Monch and the Jungfrau, would lie dislovered.hv tourists. And tourists, being "new-chums" and not knowing their tray about, need signposts. Of course, going to Brienz, home of fcood-carving, and asking for signposts fcas like issuing a challenge, and tho tood people of Brienz rose to it with Kharniing humour. "As Others See Us" Burns suggested in one of his poems o>at it would be a good thing if some teople could see themselves as others tee them. And that is just what the Kod people of Brienz have done for e tourist. For centuries time had tood more or less still in Brienz. Punctuality didn't matter over much. Life Iras comfortable, peaceful and regular. And then the tourist came, and the *ays of the tourist were strange to the feople of Brienz. So when the tourist gked for signposts, he got them—but Bey were caricatures in wood of him.l Take the signpost showing the way • the landing stage. It is of a man BUTying to catch a boat. He has asked 1® way of a native boy of Briena. The

natives of Brienz never hurry for anything. If they miss a boat, they wait for the next. So obviously the bov had plenty of time to spare, and obviously too he is standing in the middle of the path and has to be pushed aside. Their caricatures of the climbing tourist are wholly admirable. Climbing is in the blood of the natives. It is their only means of getting anywhere. Therefore they look on the city-dwelling tourists as a most curious aniihal. Thev know he would never dream of walking upstairs to his office, but on holidays insists on clambering awkwardly up the easiest slopes, groaning and grunting and perspiring freely. The Climbers Easiest of the excursions from Brienz is the walk to the waterfall at Muhlobach. Even the least athletic tourist tries this, but most of them feel the strain before they get there. The signpost shows a stout elderly tourist at the half-way point, staggering under the weight of his rucksack and asking a native boy how much further it is; to which the native boy replies, with scornfully pointing finger, that it is "just around the corner, another couple of miles or so to go." Just opposite Brienz is the Axlap, 5000 ft., a perfect holiday climb for the man who knows something about the game, but doesn't want anything too strenuous. The signpost for him is comparatively respectful. His equipment is workmanlike and his appearance purposeful, but the too-big feather in his hat and the incredible bottle of wine in his rucksack betray the holidaymaker. A Certain Respect Of all the climber-caricatures, perhaps the best is that on the Rothorn signpost. The Rothorn is the highest mountain in the immediate neighbourhood of Brienz. There is a railway to take you in comfort to its summit. And yet, perspiring freely, under a load of victuals which only they hope to accommodate, stout tourists turn their backs on the railway and indomitably tramp up to the summit of the Rothom. And so the signpost shows him. It is beautifully observed, but kindly, for the Swiss

The Wood-carvers Of Brienz Have Thei With "He-Men Tourists

By A. ROSS WILLIAMSON (Copyright)

have a certa.in respect for these people's persistence. At Interlaken there is a signpost pointing the way to the Harder railway. It shows another type of tourist whom the natives consider wholly disagreeable. There is the smile of self-satisfac-tion, the telescope, the small satchel instead of sturdy rucksack, and the raincoat carried 011 the finest days. This is the facetious tourist, who goes everywhere as easily as possible and saves his breath for plaguing complete strangers with old and dull jokes. There is a school for young woodworkers anxious to learn the latest development of this native art, and liere the visitor will find some twenty voiing boys, mostly from Brienz itself. No fees ure charted and materials are provided free. The students study anatomy, learn how to model, and all the tricks of the woodcarver's art. Alert Watchfulness The most remarkable work of this Brienz school of carvers is not the caricature of climbers, but the carvings of animals, particularly the native chamois. With the brilliant observation of centuries of familiarity and a carefully fostered technique,'these are real works of art. There is a particularly fine specimen on a signpost near Brienz showing the way to Gemspark, which vividly illustrates the speed and poetry of chamois in flight. I was fortunate enough to see the finishing touches being put to another delightful carying which now stands in luterlaken. The artist has caught and l erpetuated the moment when two chamois first catch the scent of an approaching interloper. It is the embodiment of alert watchfulness. The woodcarvers of Brienz are a fine aml almost unique example of how an indigenous craft can be fostered and carried on, even in this mechanical age, without trace of self-consciousness.— K.P.F.