photo Simon Beckmann
“It’s been two months since I returned to London from Joya: AiR and the Parque Natural Sierra María–Los Vélez. Yet the extraordinary light, the wild rosemary-scented breezes, the life-affirming sunrises and the profound sense of remoteness I experienced there have stayed with me, in a very visceral way. So, too, has the pace, dictated by the gentle hum of the bees (I was lucky enough to be there at peak almond blossom season), the rhythmic grazing of Fufu the goat, and the serenity of the vultures that soar on the thermal currents high above ‘Los Gázquez’ (Joya: AiR)– they know that rushing isn’t conducive to success or contentment.
I’d been struck during my residency by the value of simplifying life in and through the natural environment, and in some ways this was the perfect precursor to the Coronavirus-induced lockdown that began two weeks after my return. Over the past few weeks, lots of us have found solace and joy in woodlands and green spaces and this has reminded me of the intense feeling I had at Joya: AiR, where the wide skies, surrounding pine forests and undulating hills provide a sense of safety, belongingness and inspiration. It’s the ideal place to foster creativity and to contemplate how disconnected we often are from the earth, and the repercussions of this.
But the beauty of Joya: AiR wasn’t just to do with the natural environment. Los Gázquez, the main house, is an easy place in which to feel at home, thanks to Simon and Donna, the most gracious and human of hosts. I worked as a travel writer for over a decade, and it has always amazed me how quickly you can adapt to a new place, how quickly it can become your new reality, when it inspires you (and conversely, how quickly you feel alone when it doesn’t). The house, with its stark white walls, artworks and curios collected over a lifetime, quickly felt like a place of both inspiration and retreat.
Routines are another way we adapt to a new place. Rising with the sun (it rises later in Spain!), writing for several hours, then lunch on the sunny patio – this was my new normal. In the afternoons I went on walks – sometimes alone, sometimes with others – that took in almond groves, abandoned cortijos, expansive views and different vantage points of Los Gázquez. Dinner and relaxed conversation became the evening routine, sometimes preceded by a presentation.
But gentle interruptions were as important, provided by Frida the Giant Schnauzer doing her rounds, chats over tea, or invitations from the sun to take a break. The staggered arrival of guests helped, too, to subtly shift the dynamic every few days. Things kept on moving and evolving over the course of the residency, organically, as they do in nature. When I arrived in late February, the almond blossom was covering the hillsides like a delicate light-pink blanket. When I left, two weeks later, it had all but gone, leaving the land looking greener and more dramatic. I would love to return to Joya: AiR to experience the landscape at other times of year. It feels like a place that will never cease to inspire”.
Anna Norman is a writer and publisher based in London, currently working on a book about her great-great-grandfather, David Parr, a working-class decorative artist in the late 19th century Arts and Crafts era. His own house in Cambridge, inspired by nature and the projects he worked on with William Morris, recently opened as a museum…
