Colourful Characters

“What am I going to sing?  I can’t sing,” was the thought going through my head as I sat at the huge outdoor table covered by a colourful tablecloth and banana leaves and littered with red and pink hibiscus and fangiapani flowers surrounded by 19 other people.  One of Vila’s top lawyers was standing on his bright yellow chair with its legs firmly planted in the sand, singing an old Australian camp song about “climbing up Sunshine Mountain.”  As each chorus was completed another person was picked to stand on his or her chair to join in climbing the mountain.  When that was finished, each person was to sing a song of his or her own choosing.

To think this was all because a demanding guest had insisted that the real music had to be changed and when it was the stereo broke, was a worry.  Apparently the sound of the waves crashing on the reef was not music enough.  We had to have music, so we had to make it ourselves even if few of us could sing.  As we were the guests of honour Rob got called upon early on, but as the partner, I was left for toward the end.  When it finally got to me, I stood on my chair and after one of the more helpful among us suggested I sing “Jingle Bells” on a tropical summer night, I sang:

Well, I stuck my head in a little skunk’s hole and the little skunk said well bless my soul.  Take it out, take it out reeemooove it!  Well I didn’t take it out and the little skunk said…

Clearly this was not the scene I was expecting when Rob and I were invited to our first dinner party in Port Vila, but as we have come to learn we should not have expected less from Nicolai Michoutouchkine and Aloi Pilioko, our hosts that evening.

I finished by embarrassing debut on the Vanuatu music scene and then it was my turn to pick.  Being the bitch that I am, I had long ago picked my victim - Brian, the man who took over the MC job.  He seemed to think he was going to get out of singing because he was the MC.  So, just before I stood to sing, I said I didn’t want to do it.  I didn’t, but I also knew Brian would say “everyone had to”.  He’d been saying that since the “fun” had begun.  So, having finished my song, I promptly chose Brian as the next singer.  He refused, as suspected, but after I reminded him that “everyone had to sing”, a vote was taken and he lost 19 to 1.  So, he sang. 

It was a truly memorable evening and we have enjoyed the company of many of the people we met that night on many occasions since.  It was also the beginning of our friendship with Nicolai and Aloi.

Nicolai and Aloi are two well-known Pacific artists.  As Nicolai puts it, they have had “an association of over 40 years” and most of that time has been spent here in Port Vila.  They are icons of the Vanuatu scene and everything they do has a certain flare.  For example, rather than have name cards on the table that first evening, Aloi painted a picture of everyone and where they were to sit at the table.  It was laid out on a grand lounge chair, which we all consulted to find our seats.

Where Aloi is quiet and the more colourful in his art, Nicolai is big and colourful in personality.  When Nicolai is in the room he is more often than not the centre of attention.  His not quite French, not quite Russian accent is not one you’d expect to find in Melanesia and the flamboyant and commanding voice puts him centre stage. 

Born in Eastern France to Russian parents exiled following the October Revolution, Nicolai left France in the mid-50’s.  He travelled extensively through the Middle East and India and eventually found his way to New Caledonia.  Michou, as he is known to friends, arrived in the Pacific in 1956, met Aloi from the Polynesian Island of Wallis and they have lived here ever since.

Nicolai is an intricate part of the tapestry of Vila characters that make this place such a lively part of the Pacific.  When he is not travelling to exotic destinations such as Thailand where he buys his trademark red shoes, Morocco, or Cuba, you can find Nicolai at his shop in the centre of Vila.  The shop is in Pilioko House, a building adorned with Aloi’s famous 3-D murals, across from the French Embassy. 

It is here that Nicolai holds court.  Most days, he can be found sitting at a makeshift desk behind the spiral staircase surrounded by his and Aloi’s artistic and fashion creations.  On the mirrored wall in front of the desk is a myriad of snapshots given to him by friends and “historic photos” he has taken himself.  Nicolai insists he takes only photos of historic events and people.  I guess this should concern me since Rob is on the wall and I’m not, but oh well.

I was in there the other day with a visiting friend from Australia and we were required to take a seat and have some discussions.  Having just had a coffee at the Au Peche Mignon Café down the road we passed on the offer of a drink, but the conversation was eaten up.

Like some other characters about town, Michou is never short of a story and his stories range from who has been up to what, to what happened to him on his latest trip abroad, to his famous stories with a punch line.  I don’t know where he gets them all, but he often has some pretty funny stories to tell.

On this occasion it was a story of the blue variety that he had picked up somewhere on his recent travels to Australia.  He started telling the story of this woman who went to her doctor and the doctor thought she was lovely and …

As he neared the punch line, he looked at Judy, the friend with me who is a grandmother of two.  I could see the realisation in his face.  He was not going to be able to finish this particular joke.  I could see where the story was leading, as could Judy I’m sure and I had been waiting to see how long it took Nicolai to come to this conclusion, because Michou’s manners are nothing if they are not perfect.

With Judy sitting there next to him there was no way he would be able to finish.  So, how would he extricate himself from the little dilemma he was creating for himself.  He continued on never the less and as he reach the punch line he created a very censored version, mumbled it quickly, so neither of us had any real idea of what he said and laughed loudly.  Judy laughed politely and I laughed a lot more, but I wasn’t laughing at the story, of course.

Nicolai invited us to his Fashion Show that he holds weekly at Le Meridien Hotel.  Rob and I had never been to it and Judy seemed keen so we said we would be there.  Later that day, to give Judy the full flavour of the Michoutouchkine experience, I took Judy out to Nicolai and Aloi’s property on the road to Pango Village.  It is a fabulous setting with lush gardens and several buildings on it.  The buildings are their houses, the staff houses, a museum and a workshops and storage areas.  They have a large collection of artefacts from Vanuatu and throughout the Pacific.  The wonderful tapa collection and books are stored away in a temperature controlled storage area.  Much of the rest of the collection is on display in the museum or in the main house, which has become a museum.

A couple of months ago, Nicolai summonsed us to the house on a Saturday afternoon.  The house is a three level house over looking the entrance to the First Lagoon and Erakor Island.  It is a great location and from the third floor you can look over the palm trees to the open sea.

The house has been the scene of many memorable dinner and lunch parties for a variety of people from visiting Russian Ambassadors to interesting people Nicolai meets in the store and decides to introduce to his friends.

Anyway, Rob and I arrived at the appointed time to find the whole ground floor of the house transformed into a museum.  Nicolai had decided that it was time the 500 or so artefacts they have collected over the past 40 – 50 years came out of their crates and went on display. 

Over the years, Nicolai and Aloi have organised over 30 exhibitions of their art and the collection.  The collection has been seen in France, Russia, Japan, Malaysia, Australia, Sweden and many other locations, but for the past several years, most of it has been stored away where no one could appreciate it.  Some of the collection has been on display in the “museum” at the front of the property, but that collection paled in comparison to what we found hanging from the ceiling and on the walls in the house when we arrived at our private opening.

The collection is mainly of things that people from around the Pacific use in everyday life.  There are fish traps, hooks for hanging baskets, baskets, food storage boxes, knives, bowls, walking sticks, flutes, and many many other items. The collection spans the South Pacific from Melanesia through Polynesia and seeing it all together is quite amazing.

Since that day, the house has become a part of the tour we give visitors.  I parked the car and Judy and I headed down the pathway surrounded by green leaves illuminated by brilliant sunlight to the house.  Aloi was seated outside the front door working on some T-shirt designs.  He was using black ink to outline the wide-eyed figures that adorn his work. 

I introduced them and we made our way inside. To appreciate the collection you have to see it with Nicolai or Aloi there.  None of it is labelled, but anything you want to know about the collection is stored in Nicolai’s or Aloi’s head.

They can tell you where it is from, what it was used for, how old it is and anything else you’d care to know. Looking at it all together in one place you can start to see the connections between the designs and even which islands were influenced by which cultures.

We spent quite some time inspecting the collection and even took a peek at the Indonesian furniture collection on the upper floors.  We said our goodbyes and as we walked back down the path to the car, Judy asked what would happen to the collection in future.

It is a good question and I know Nicolai has been giving it some thought.  I told her what he had told us when Rob asked him a similar question on the day we went to see the collection for the first time.  Michou said that now that it was all out of the boxes and displayed on the ground floor, he and the collection could be washed out to sea together in a cyclone or tidal wave in the years to come.  I guess that is the dramatic end you’d expect from Nicolai, but I think a museum might be a better option.

Note: This tale was written in October 2000.  Sadly, Nicolai passed away earlier this year.  He will be missed.

Copyright 2000