I arrived in Zurich from Dublin to meet my friend, on a slushy Swiss morning. We had a coffee in the Hauptbahnhoff before catching our train southwards. Past snowscapes and lakes, to Chur. It was a little pilgrimage squeezed in during my annual general inspection of Zurich. All because of Harry…
Harry Clarke – Irish stained-glass artist and illustrator. The story goes, that Harry Clarke, on his way home to Dublin from Davos (I have been warned that the accent is on the second syllable and asked to pass it on to the BBC), bearing the burden of T.B, when he went and died in Chur. A missed ‘rental’ request, years later, for continued residence in the graveyard resulted in him being re-potted in a communal grave.
We took the local bus up from town and alighted (alit?) at the graveyard, bisected by the road. After traipsing around the new, terraced graveyard, we crossed to the older one with the church. The variety of headstones in German and Swiss graves is always interesting. From metal to stone to wood. Nothing extravagant that would shame the neighbours, of course. No grandstanding. There was no sign of a communal grave. And then my companion spotted a plaque on the wall of the little shed type structure.
Satisfied with our search, we crossed over to the far wall, to look out at the lovely view from the graveyard, a well-tended resting place we agreed. Even if we weren’t quite sure where that wonderful artist had been (re)laid.
And, in the evening, we waylaid images, from the electronic ether, of the wonderful Geneva Window. And marvelled again at its majesty and the genius of its maker.