We had a rental car in Paris this week, so we decided to take a trip to Fontainebleau, in the spirit of so many impressionist painters.   Our initial idea was to paint “rocks” – a unique feature to the park.  We invited a friend, who suggested we make a sidetrip, which actually became the focus of our journey.



We visited the home of Stephane Mellarme, a French poet born in 1842.  His work is among the most difficult to translate into English – when I read it in French it is wonderful, but to put in English just doesn’t “go”.  He worked as an English teacher, to make ends meet; he translated Poe’s Raven into French, where it was illustrated by Manet.    Mallerme had an apartment in Paris, and the cottage we visited, in Vulaine- sur-Seine, on the banks of the river.  He was a “connected” artist – he conducted salons attended by  Degas, Manet, Whistler, Poe, Yeats, Rainer Maria Rilke, Paul Valéry, Stefan George, and Paul Verlaine, just to mention a few.   His portrait in an etching by Gaugin, hung on the wall of the house we visited, alongside a photo taken by Degas, with Degas reflected in the mirror.    I felt tremendously inspired to get my Sunday salon underway, something I’ve been trying to do since January.



The house was filled with interesting pictures, his furniture (he is associated with his rocking chair, wearing a plaid blanket over his shoulders) and a small show of his work and accompanying illustration.  He wrote some of his poems on fans, intended for his wife, mistress and daughter.  The gardens were marvelous, and he even wrote poetry the wall of the privy.  



We’d brought a picnic to eat, and afterward ate  on the banks of the Seine, with Harika.   We saw a very large bird winging our way, “a heron”, I announced, but it was in fact a swan.   The gigantic bird landed on the water by running on its enormous black feet,  loud slaps on the water.  It was clearly interested in our lunch.  Harika had no intention of sharing, and eyed the bird menacingly.  As the two got closer, the fowl took to hissing, and having had enough, Harika jumped in after it.  I had to clamber down the rocks to haul the wet dog out of the water, but it succeeded at putting the bird at bay for a short time.



The sun was warm enough we took of our coats and shoes and dangled our toes in the Seine.  After chicken and remoulade, carrots, cheese and bread (with wine, of course), we packed our bags to be off to paint.  



It is quite amazing how large the forest of Fontainebleau actually is:  an area of 110 square miles!  We opted for a little turnoff by the road, where the trees seemed illuminated, pale green and yellow.   Blair sat down at once, and our friend, Harika and I went further into the woods, where cars were barely heard.  I painted the illuminated trees.  There were no mosquitoes yet, but lots of little insects.  Two of the king’s horses passed by (the police, on the trail of prostitutes), and we found a rock which resembled a large chunk of ice.   I picked it up for a souvenir from our foray into the country.
Blair, $175

As I sit here typing artnotes, the temperature is 46 degrees and it’s about to rain:  a pattern of the last week.   My painting student of Wednesday announced, “the wind is from the West, we can’t paint.” (the first time we've ever not paint

I never recall quite this bad weather at this time of year – but I have a selective memory.  I always remember the good times, even rosying up what, at the time, were not-so-good experiences.   I wax fondly about living in Connecticut, for one (I HATED living there, at the time).  I can even look back fondly at people I regularly fought with.   What a wonderful thing, no?  

It’s election week/weekend here.   French people vote on Sunday, an idea which exudes SENSE to me.  In the US, we close schools for the day so people can vote, and half of them don’t make it on account of work.  Switch to Sunday.

The other brilliant thing here is that campaign advertising is limited to one month before the election.  Certainly, the candidates speak before that, and there are rallies, but the media is not overwhelmed with hate ads like we are in America, for 6 months.  The hate element isn’t used here, which I find refreshing.  Even more refreshing are the posters which are plastered to special temporary walls erected for such purpose as identifying the candidates:  artistic types give them red clown noses and mustaches (I have even been known to wield a pencil).  My favorite was a wild bozo-like treatment to the bald headed Hollande.  Good sport.

The bad news is the candidates are not so brilliant, and the claims they make are wildly extreme.  The current French president (I don’t consider him my president, as I am a US citizen), Nicolas Sarkozy, proposes to diminish immigration by 50 percent, at least – his own father was an immigrant, which makes it lucky he wasn’t in charge back then.  He has made clear his dislike for non-Christians – despite the fact no white French guy would take a job washing dishes – Sarko  doesn’t want any North African guy taking that Frenchman’s job.   He wants to deport  most non-European-types, not realizing I guess, that more than half the Muslims (or who he perceives as Muslim) in this country were born here.    And if this isn’t enough,  he is proposing entry visas to France  –  which seems absurd in a country with the world’s most visited city, Paris, dependent on tourist dollars.

All this is likely rhetoric, in fact, to take the vote from extremely extreme National Front candidate, Marie LePen.  Mme. LePen wants to quit the European Union (and most certainly the Euro), give France back to the French, and stop immigration altogether.  

The  only real (and formidable!) opponent to Sarkozy is Francois Hollande.  Hollande  has a completely different agenda.  He wants to tax anyone making a million euros a year at a rate of 75%.  There aren’t many people here who make that much, but nonetheless, those who do will find it hard to vote for him.  It is his idea of how to fund social programs.  His emphasis is on education, which seems like a great idea.  He will add 60,000 teachers in hopes of making France the best education system in the world – in the belief knowledge will overcome hate and superstition.    His is a “positive” viewpoint, as opposed to Sarkozy’s self-proclaimed optimism, which is negative in many regards.

This election has put the city on edge.    And this is the first round:  there are, in fact, ten candidates who will be whittled down to two in this weekend’s vote (the communists; the new “anti-capitalists”; the “citizen-revolutionaries” – all of whom have very interesting ideas I didn’t share in this short missive)  .  The final election is on the 6 May, after which  the news of how broke the country really is, will be released.

A few years from now, who knows, maybe we’ll all look back favorably on the early 20-teens…  Was the weather really that bad?  Which way is the wind blowing?

Laurie and Blair PESSEMIER   www.paintfox.com   www.parispaintingworkshop.blogspot.com

Here is Blair's Paris, St Sulpice, Location painting, what a team. Would I like to join them someday, does Harka like to play? Spring in Paris... You have to love it.

Here's Laurie's painting, 3-212.

Here's Blair's painting for the week.

If you are in Paris, please come to our opening, or visit the gallery (we'll be there) any afternoon between 1 - 6 PM from the 20 March to 6 April.
The gallery is very close to the back of the church St. Sulpice, Luxembourg Gardens side.
If you need to come a different time, give us a call and we'll accommodate 06.60.29.86.05


Laurie and Blair

Blair’s at the flea market searching for 100 champagne glasses. Neither of us like plastic, and you can never tell when you’ll be needing partyware in future. We have big optimism. Initially, they will be used at the opening of our show on 20 March, at 5, rue Servandoni: les amoureaux de la France (French lovers).

I take the bus to the library where I drop off books and set brochures for our plein air painting workshop in the rack by the door. Vistaprint loves me of late: between invitations for the show and brochures for our workshop, the presses have been running. Of course, there are no more presses, but some sort of digital process that makes printing affordable. When we had our first brochures printed, in 1982, we sold our car to be able to pay for them.

I found dozens of large, free maps of places like Dublin and Dehli, by the door of the library – good for writing letters/making art. Bali looks like a fish. Madly, I long for a studio where I can execute my works on paper. I wish very hard.

We had a trip planner here at our house yesterday – she is thrilled to be touting our painting trips to Giverny and Auvers-sur-Oise. “How great an entire family can paint for the afternoon in the Luxembourg Gardens”, she says. We feel the same way and try to find time between this and that to get out there ourselves.

We did go to the rooftop of BHV (Bazaar Hotel de Ville) this week to paint – Blair managed a nice little look at the river, as I struggled with rooftops and St. Gervais. I had better luck on top of Printemps: the tables and chairs are out and my friend Y and I enjoyed the 360 degree view, in 55F degree weather. My painting forays fell apart as the week wore on.

I cooked a dourade (stuffed with herbs) in sea salt Tuesday night, for a friend. I made the recipe once in the US, but the salt cost me more than the fish there. Here, I got over six pounds of wonderful sea salt from Brittany for just three euros. The thrill of hammering the whole thing open, steaming fish, is unbeatable. At the market on Friday, I found three dover sole for 10 euros: I cooked them, skins on, with butter, served with potatoes and fennel, for Blair and me and Harika, the sea dog.

They cut down 42 trees in the Luxembourg Gardens this week: the Chinese Empress trees, with their lovely lavender blossoms (Paulownia tomentosa or in this case, Royal Paulownia). These are the trees which shade the chess players. Apparently, they were attacked by an insect and the entire group (trees not chess players) had to be eradicated. I looked up on the Internet about them, and was surprised to find they are the fast growing hardwood tree and can grow up to 10 feet a year! I can actually buy seed, and am somewhat tempted to plant them on my balcony. They are host to the marvelous Cecropia silk moth, one of the world’s largest and most beautiful moths.

Because the trees are removed my views in that area are quite different than they had been. I am hoping for reforestation soon.

As this letter draws to a close, Blair comes home with 105, er, 104 glasses and two nut dishes. All for 20 euros! Who says you can’t find a bargain in Paris?

Laurie and Blair Pessemier www.paintfox.com www.parispaintingworkshop.blogspot.com

Views from the Roof:

This week, one of our co-painters wanted to go out to Auvers-sur-Oise, where Van Gogh spent his last sixty days on the planet.  The painter told us in the new book about Van Gogh, it is alleged Vincent was actually shot by locals and did not kill himself.  On the premise of going to look for evidence we pointed the rental car North.

It is somewhat “springy” here – less cold, sometimes sunny, sometimes overcast and often threatening rain for the flowers.  On Monday I  painted out on the balcony, and lost a brace of brushes over the side.  In Auvers, we looked at Van Gogh’s grave,  then considered painting the fields -- as they were not yet verdant, we headed for the river Oise.

We set up our easels and Harika stood guard while we painted.   A passel of ponies with young riders filed past;  scullers rowed by.  After weeks of being cooped up in the apartment, this was a breath of truly fresh air.

Reluctant to return the rental car, we scheduled an appointment for next day, at the edge of Paris.  We brought a painting to an expert for authentication.   Although the assistant told us “plan on about 30 minutes” and Google maps said 29, we were in the car for nearly two hours.   The frustration under such circumstances is almost intolerable.   I tried to settle in and listen to the radio.

I believe that France’s unemployment rate has improved only because there are hundreds of street projects taking place everywhere.  From installing electric car rental sites (what if I had an electric rental here and now and the juice ran out?), to the construction of the tramway around the periphery of Paris, the roads are constantly torn up.   I suppose it is better to improve one’s own patch, than bomb someone else’s:  I am thus consoled.

Upon arrival at Monsieur’s F’s place,  the elevator was “en panne” (broken).  Blair carried the painting up to the fifth floor, only to discover Mr. F, 82, was himself unable to negotiate the stairs on account of the gout.  His assistant evaluated  the work and pronounced it “authentic”.   He will come to our place in Paris on Wednesday to deliver the certificate and get paid.

The moment Harika and I have been waiting for:  we were off to the nearby  Parc Departemental  de la Corneuve,  one of the largest park in the Paris area.   We last visited here in 2008, when Harika was just a pup.   We skulked past the dog park, where three pit bulls were mauling one another.  After a few minutes, Harika was let off leash, and she ran for the lake, a good kilometer down the path, where she plunged in to be nearer the ducks.   We could breathe.

rue de Rennes from the balcony   Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on wood  6 x 20 inches    $150.00

A friend brought by the result of her ikebana class on Thursday night. I have daffodils and gerber daisies, cockscomb and the hope of a camellia on my dining table. We ate salt cod, one of my new favorite dinners, beside the bower of blooms.

I soak the salted cod (I get the “fresh” kind, not the dried variety) in water for at least 24 hours. A friend gave me a fish poacher last fall, and it is the perfect receptacle. I can leave the pan out on the balcony where it is still nearly as cold as the refrigerator, sometimes colder.

It was an altogether wonderful week. I can’t believe I am writing this but I had an exceptionally good conversation with a representative from Google Adwords on the telephone. I live in France, where it is rare to have any positive interaction with a worker – in fact, this week a French friend called me a filthy name and I can barely get through it. Grudgingly I called Google Adwords fully expecting to be treated like the fool I am treated like here. It was quite the opposite experience and I found myself wanting to stay on the phone a minute or two longer. This did make me worry I could be one of those lonely people who will one day run a bed and breakfast.

I cook up some onions and garlic in olive oil (lots) and add white wine. Iintroduce whole tomatoes (with sauce, if using canned), which I squish alongside the pan. All this I simmer for twenty or thirty minutes.

Three people replied to last week’s artnotes with real POST. I received a wonderful book someone wrote, a newsy postcard, and a letter. I am in process of replying, taking a photo of my letter so I can assemble a year’s worth of paper correspondence for next Valentine’s day.

I bought Blair an erratic (not erotic) antique timer for Valentine’s day, which beats fast, then slow, rarely rings, but when it does it is very strong: like my heart. He gave me a red felt heart with a button.

I add the fish, cut into four inch sections and cook it all about 15 minutes. I added sliced potatoes the first time (and I think the potatoes absorb some of the salt), but his time cooked them separately alongside. A few capers are also nice.

The highlight of our week in Paris, however, was painting with seven students on Saturday in the Luxembourg Gardens. We’d been postponed due to weather, but finally got together and painted trees and railings, the fountain and Matisse. I constantly worry painting and writing on paper, works by hand, will become extinct, but this event dispelled those fears. In fact, we’re meeting again next week.

Laurie and Blair PESSEMIER www.paintfox.com www.parispaintingworkshop.blogspot.com

110 rue de Rennes 75006 Paris France (just in case you decide to write)

Here is Blair's newest painting.
Blair Pessemier Sketch: across the Luxembourg Gardens Acrylic on wood 7 x 20 inches $150.00

I must have jinxed the weather, talking about crocus and singing birds last week – since then it has been nothing but below-freezing temperatures. My geraniums, half dead from the balcony are in the bathtub trying to revive and my primroses are frozen solid.

It’s changed my behavior, too. I am wearing all those clothes I was thinking about putting away. I am cooking rabbit and pork cheeks, for hours in the oven. For this, Harika is happy – in fact, she’s energized by this turn in the weather and runs around the park while I follow like the mechanical man. I am able to wear my fur coat, after all.

The bad news is my seven students scheduled for a plein air painting lesson have postponed. Seven sets of paints and canvases sit in my hallway. I’ve been out trying to find alternate sites.

Blair and I went to the observatory floors on the top of the Galeries Lafayette and Printemps. We’d not been to those place for years.

Galeries Lafayette has added of medley of food shops throughout the store, from McDonalds to Pierre Hermes (the best dessert shop). Each floor has a snack bar – the champagne bar on three looks great – at the edge of the balcony giving way to the stained glass domed center court. It is so beautiful I get goosebumps. We continue up the escalator to the top, where there’s a large Chinese restaurant, a Japanese restaurant and a coffee shop. The view of the Opera is terrific, but it impossible to imagine setting up anything for more than a couple of painters at a table, with something to eat.

We walk down the street to Printemps (which means “Spring” in French). They’ve been touching up the gold leaf on the building and domes, and the outside is a sparkly jewel box. We go inside, which is not as brilliant, the escalators are a tad narrow. Printemps, too, has a dramatic inner courtyard and impressive mosaic work. The staff at Printemps is also a little more accommodating -- they tell us we really want to go to the next building to see the observatory. We take the third floor skybridge over to the other building. On our way up to nine, I look at towels (too expensive even on sale).

Arriving at the Deli-cieux (the rooftop resto), the view is breathtaking. A relatively small cafeteria gives way to an outdoor terrace. It is icy cold out there right now, but we plan to return on a warmer day. From inside the coffee shop I can see decorated domes, the Opera, Sacre Coeur and St. Augustine, up close. It is an overwhelming feast of architecture. I go back the next day and paint a small work from an inside table (shown below).

My next idea is to check out the observation area at the Centre Pompidou to see if we might paint from there. I look to every restaurant near the Seine with an eye to painting these days. Who says one can’t teach an old Parisian new tricks?
www.paintfox.com

We are just back from our 4 week painting foray in Southwestern France. We are unpacking and taking photos of our 50 or so paintings – forty are on the website with a few more to come. Many are painted side-by-side; this week’s paintings are the most recognizably similar. We painted at our very-fresh-fish stand – where we bought rascasse (scorpion fish), octopus, mullet and lotte (monkfish).

Speaking of painting side-by-side, the Paris Painting Workshops are starting to fill up – it’s time to think about coming to paint with Blair and me. We are focusing on day tours this year, but longer term arrangements can be made.

We’ve had our first Paris visitor of the year today: along with the two visitors to Collioure, we’ve started 2012 surrounded by friends.

My notebooks are still packed, so I must depend on my memory to describe my birthday trip to Pezanas and Le Somail – two towns of the Langedoc region of France, about 90 minutes from Collioure.

We selected Pezanas for its “Clive pies”, named after Lord Clive, who visited the city from India in the l700s. One of my favorite treats are mince pies, and this is an ever-so-delicious French version, with real bits of mutton and sweet Indian spices. The pies are made in small individual portions, said to look like cotton reels (thread bobbins, I think), or six or eight slice versions.

Pezanas was capital of Langendoc at one time, and the buildings were quite lovely. There was a door museum and many artisan shops. We were relegated to window shopping, at this time of year. Doors to the buildings themselves were wonderful, with knockers in cast metal to represent “hands” or clubs. The doors were of wood, painted interesting and distinctive colors, and had a sort of “lintel” over the top, and a large lower panel which opened, and a fixed side panel. This was in contrast to the Moorish doors of Collioure with decorative iron work.

We ate seafood at a tapas bar, where we ordered grilled duck hearts on skewers for Harika. Needless to say, she sat quietly in the corner till we fed her all of them, and then she fell asleep, dreaming of mallards. We pressed on with our squid and mussels, dourade and anchovies. Bullfighting posters adorned the walls.

We went on to Le Somail, to make a day of it, where we toured a hat museum (open) and an antique bookstore. It is located on the “canal de Midi”, one of those picturesque places people pass on canal boats. There were geese alongside the road and a camelback bridge of stones, still surprisingly used for cars. I have much material to think about, and a book of old violin music to paint pictures of musicians on.

Blair and I talk about moving to the south of France, but Paris still has its benefits. The south is wall-to-wall with tourists in the summer – we saw the best of it in winter, like a museum at night.

It’s our plan to host an art “salon” on Sundays this year – the first Sunday of the month. It will be for artists and art appreciators in Paris. We’ll keep you posted.

Laurie and Blair PESSEMIER www.paintfox.com http://parispaintingworkshop.blogspot.com