Nora Engels

Sie rauscht auf dem Mountainbike in flottem Tempo über den Foppettas Trail ob Champfèr. Fliegt durch die Luft, als wären ihr auf der Abfahrt Flügel gewachsen. Sie spielt mit dem Gelände, legt sich fast horizontal in die Steilwandkurve, weiss sekundenschnell zu reagieren. Nora Engels’ Freude an der Bewegung ist förmlich spürbar. Die Wellen auf den Flowtrails der Corviglia reitet sie wie ein Profi-Surfer – mit einem gewissen Heimvorteil. Denn Nora stammt aus Bever und hat einst auf den Biketrails des Oberengadins Radfahren gelernt.
Two hours later, Nora is standing in her studio in Samedan. Instead of a mountain bike helmet, she is now wearing a helmet of the kind familiar to forestry workers. She has a massive pair of ear defenders over her ears, safety goggles on her nose and, instead of a pair of carbon handlebars, she is holding a rattling chainsaw. Nora is a wood sculptor by profession and she is using a chainsaw to create the rough structure of a new sculpture out of a Swiss stone pine trunk. She is doing this with three different chainsaws, which would otherwise only be used by burly forestry workers. However, the comparatively petite Engadin native handles the heavy machinery with remarkable ease. ‘As a wood sculptor, it's an advantage to be in good physical shape, because handling heavy logs, as well as chainsaws, is hard physical work,’ she explains almost casually. And that's where mountain biking comes in handy for her.
It's no coincidence that Nora is pursuing her craft in the Upper Engadine, of all places. After living in the Bernese Oberland for several years, she has, so to speak, returned to her roots for love. The love of the Swiss stone pine. In sculpture, the wood is considered to be idiosyncratic because of its multifaceted structures and many branches. But the Swiss stone pine has a formative significance for Nora that goes beyond art: as a child she grew up in a house with a lot of Swiss stone pine wood, later in her original profession as a carpenter it was the dominant material, and even when mountain biking, the unmistakable tree is always part of the natural experience. But it was when she was a teenager that Nora really fell in love with the Swiss stone pine: she made an alphorn out of some wood from her home, and she still plays it from time to time.
Leaving your comfort zone
Back at Nora's studio, where she has now replaced the power saws with chisels. The carving begins. A hundred different versions of sharp implements lie in her tool cabinet. With them, Nora creates the fine details that are the hallmark of her figures. An eagle, for example, with feathers, eyes or claws that look almost real. A child with facial features as if from real life. Or a bust of impressive anatomical accuracy. Many of the young artist's works are a wood-carved reflection of nature, which also inspires Nora. Often she finds inspiration on one of the many bike trails. ‘On a mountain bike, I can switch off and let go.’ The ideas then often arise from this carefree state. And sometimes she also discovers the basis for her other speciality on her bike: sculptures made of driftwood. ‘Nature creates the work of art itself. The wood, the deformations or the weathering are already independent sculptures.’ Nora completes them, works on the details, gives them new forms and breathes new life into the deadwood that has been washed ashore.
Nora doesn't just get on her bike for the joy of nature and inspiration. Adrenaline also plays an important role. ‘I like to push my limits,’ she says. Riding a difficult section, making a jump, mastering a tight curve without getting off, and above all, leaving your comfort zone.
But it's similar to sculpting. ‘Working with a large chainsaw is physically challenging for me. But that's exactly what makes it so appealing. When you overcome your own limitations, it's deeply satisfying.’ And she gets that satisfaction on the trail as well as in the studio.
A passion that makes time stand still
Meanwhile, the night-time calm has descended on the Upper Engadine. The stars shine in the crystal-clear sky and the work lamps in Nora's studio. The unmistakable scent of Swiss stone pine hangs in the room like a pleasant perfume. The sculpture is clearly taking shape. A human being is emerging. ‘It's going to be a child,’ Nora adds. ‘I like doing that. There's something carefree and natural about children.’ She approaches the task of carving the various tools with the same playful spirit as she did the curves of the flow trail. ‘I have a rough idea of the anatomy in my head,’ she says, ‘the rest is intuition.’ Nora is carving her way towards the child and has long since immersed herself in the world of craftsmanship.
And when she stands in front of the finished sculpture in two days' time and looks at it from a distance, that smile will appear on Nora's face. The satisfying smile she also had in Champfèr, at the end of the Foppetta Trail, when she got off her bike exhausted but contented.