The first time I spoke to Mark Kelly be it by videocall, my wife thought I had called an old friend. We were heading towards the end of the lockdown measures taken here in Switzerland and we were both eager to collaborate. I was surprised by the speed at which he replied to my message but of course after almost two months of lockdown, I think we were all raring to go and create tangible content and to share an experience in the flesh, not just behind a screen.

We talked for a long time, an orgaanic discussion that led from one topic to another, as if we were two friends discussing our week with a Friday evening beer. Mark has a wild aura about him, a wild raw energy that I was drawn to straight away. The freeness to be yourself and uncompromisingly open is a contagious gift.

“I’ve got a few different songs that could work”, he said as he grabbed his guitar and treated me to a private concert. The Lesson, was one of the songs that he played. Mark had written this song during the lockdown. I imagined him sitting in his garden next to his vegetable patch, figuring out the picking pattern and belting out those existential lyrics, questioning where we are as a people, and where we want to head.

It would not be long after that we heard his voice resonating trough the alleyways of Saint-Saphorin. St-Saphorin is a small village surrounded by vineyards in the Lavaux region on the northern banks of Lake Leman, a region selected as a UNESCO World Heritage Site due to its kilometers of terraced vineyards.

With a population between three and four hundred people, the community of St-Saphorin we can imagine, is a tightknit community. We felt very much welcome there, and everyone we came across was very accommodating about not making too much noise and turning off their sound systems that accompanied their Sunday evening apéro.

I wanted to record the song while Mark walked through the alleyways of St-Saphoprin, and in retrospect, the symbolism of the forward movement fits perfectly with the song. “I wonder when it’s over will we make the same mistake, will we be wise enough to see the error of our ways? I believe we can find a way…” As he wanders St-Saphorin he ponders these questions, a man walking in a serene village contemplating the state of the world, imagining one where we prioritise the wellbeing of the planet and its entire population.
The sun was making its way east towards the Jura mountains where it would set. We made our way through the zig zagging roads that connected the various villages and estates of the region, on our way to the village of Epesses.

Although we had scouted some good spots, the 15km/h winds that had started earlier that morning soon became a big obstacle for recording. However, we found a good spot and stuck with it. We mad our way back up the terraces to the car, the sun had set and dusk was falling.

“So are we going to do one in the car,” I said. We had flirted with the idea of it as Mark played to us during the ride up to Epesses. So we made our way back to Vevey the car resonating with the blues guitar and soulful voice of Mark Kelly.