Pierre & Wendy On the Road

Dix-Neuf (19) -- Fall 2006 Student Show at CIAC

We all returned from Paris to finish up the semester at the Pont Aven School of Contemporary Art (PSCA) starting with the wonderful student show for the end of the Fall 2006 Semester, launching us into our last two weeks, doing and seeing everything one last time, in 2006 anyway.

The photo album starts off with a shot of each piece in the gallery going clockwise, and afterwards there are lots of pictures of the artists with their pieces, and with eachother, which I always love to see, I hope you do too. 

I Heart Paris in the Wintertime – but ask me again when it’s really cold!

I guess I got it wrong about the height of the season being the re-entry period in September, as it really seems to build and build to a crescendo at Christmas, and we were lucky enough to be there for an unseasonably warm late November, and Paris was really happening.  Lots of our compatriots had the brilliant idea to come to Paris for Thanksgiving too, so there was an awful lot of American English in the street, which took me aback a bit, as I always like to think that I might be the only one (ha ha), oh well!  I had great pals in town, and they kept trying to go to a museum in the afternoon, and were daunted by long lines several times, finally going at 10am on Sunday which was much better.  That’s definitely a problem in Paris – crowded major museums, so my solution is to go to the lesser traveled museums, and there are plenty of super interesting small ones to visit.  Here’s a great thing one can see instead of going to the Beaubourg, again.  The European Photography Museum in the Marais is having a fantastic exhibition of the tenure of VU Magazine, the first visually oriented magazine, created in 1928 and running monthly until 1940, with absolutely stunning graphics and photography, and very intense social content as well – there is an entire room devoted to their coverage of Hitler and WWII from the early 30’s until 1940!  Paris always has stuff like this to see, and it is by far the most satisfying way to spend a morning, though the Maurice Denis Show at the Musee D’Orsay is fabulous, I can only spend an hour or so in that place before I run out screaming, between the crowds and the intrusive and distracting architectural features, and the closure or unavailability of fave rooms or pieces, I’m out of there after seeing one section!  And they have the only Strindberg in Paris, and no one there can tell one where it is!

Here were the high points of a 6 day trip: the Maurice Denis paintings, dinner at a fave spot, L’Avant Gout, with our great friends from Boston, which included chestnut soup, wild boar, and great chocolate desserts!   There was a cool Jean Loup Sieff photography show, and also Anselm Kiefer in a most felicitous gallery space that so favorably affected the pieces that I really liked them for the first time!  Take a look at my photo album to see it.  Saturday included lunch with friends at a restaurant introduced to me by a local pal who has a great store around the corner with pet acoutrements.  We had steak tartare (almost always good to have here – so flavorful), warm pate with field mushrooms and salad, a classic kind of lamb stew, marrow bones, beautiful salad of course, a bottle of maybe chateau neuf de pape and half a camembert and also the chocolate fondant for dessert.  Yes, you guessed it, we spent a few hours there, and it was the perfect Saturday lunch with dear American friends in Paris. 

Sunday we went to the Centre Du Monde Arabe for a fantastic Venetian show, it was especially interesting to see Christian, Moorish, and Jewish imagery from Venice in that marvelous building that doesn’t include Israel on their map of the world, only Palestine!  We had a great cous cous for lunch there – which I am also finally starting to like, as it has such varied ingredients, and is so perfect for Fall.  Afterwards I went to the 16th Arrrondisement for a Art Nouveau (particularly Hector Guimard) walk, recommended by a fabulous design historian friend, I was completely in heaven (see pics).  That night, a visit to the Palais de Tokyo contemporary art space (open ‘til 12 every night) in a great old building completely took me by surprise, as I loved it instead of hating it, and it was topped off by that old Paris by Night ride, including a stop at the Eiffel Tower, which never fails to blow my jaded mind!  

Oh, I almost forgot the auction preview of modernist furniture displayed in a very groovy adventurous way in an old mansion – proving yet again that contrast illuminates objects, including paintings and prints, far better than harmony.  To wit, there was a terribly disappointing show of Atget photos from the collection of  MOMA where the frame color had been painstakingly chosen to match the plummy sepia tone of his photos, and the mat mismatched their warm whites, further exascerbated by the cold white walls and light of the classic minimal gallery space – the 8 x 10 photos were all but invisible in this setting!  Winding up the trip was a clothing auction at Drouot, a visit to Pere Lachaise in the rain, and an all but empty Sacre Coeur (go on a rainy day), the VU exhibit I mentioned, and lunch with a friend from LA at other French friend’s fave neighborhood restaurant in the 11th on the most perfect day with amazing light, take a look at that beautiful picture of Laurie in red, and check out her blog – a fascinating compendium of blogs about Paris in english.  We can’t help it, we heart Paris!

It must be the water!

The other night I had a chance to ask a kind of water specialist here in our little town my big question, one that has been plaguing me since we arrived – is it possible that the water seems to have such a different texture from our water at home, or am I hallucinating?  He said “It’s heavier, isn’t it?”  I was thrilled -- yes, that’s it exactly, but how can that be?  Minerals, he said.  Duh.  Of course we proceeded to have a long talk about it, with another colleague as an incredulous witness, comparing in every way the possible water processes here and there, and I also came to realize why everything here is so completely different to cook and store – not just the amount of water it contains, but the quality of the water itself, in John’s words, “The water is alive here.”  Now John Melvin is not a scientist, he is a kind of artist in residence here at the school in Pont Aven, and spent a year studying the river that runs through here in preparation for the first public piece on and about the river, which is why I call him a sort of water specialist. Plus he is an American living in France.  

So now I think I understand why a cut lemon rots on our counter after two days, in cool weather, where at home it will stay in exactly the same condition for at least a week.  The one at home is full of chlorine, first of all, and flouride, and whatever other chemical additives we deem fit for us to consume in our H2O, and here less of the original minerals and organisms are removed, or killed, so in John’s words, everything is full of “live” water, and truly living things decay, right?  And as I mentioned, the water is palpably heavier here.  This was especially noticeable when we first arrived, in the hotter weather, and I fished out the empty trays from the freezer and made ice.
The act of pouring water over the ice seemed to create a kind of syrupy water, and I thought I must be insane!  I certainly am crazy about ice at this stage in my life, but I don’t need to go into that here!  Cooking timing and techniques are completely different here and I'm still adjusting.  I made French Toast (sic) this morning and it took literally a minute (less than two) on each side to cook, nice and brown.  And an endive I had cut in half with a knife actually kept growing, so that little curly bits started poking out of the flat cut center.  Whew, it's weird.  Suffice it to say I’m not crazy, the water here is great, and the food is wonderfully perishable, I had just forgotten that it is supposed to be like that.  Now I’ll get back to my pear poaching, I'll have to post about French desserts next time.   

Gilles Mahé et Ses Copains introduction by Pierre Picot

"Gilles Mahé was an artist, but moreover, he was a bundle of humourous and intelligent energy for everyone who encountered him.  He lived in Paris before re-settling in his home of St Briac, in the North of Brittany, in the early ‘90’s.  Though he died much too early in 1999, he exists in spirit, through his example, in the minds of us all.

All of the individuals in this group show know eachother through Gilles Mahé. 
He knew us, and we knew him, and eventually, one way or another, we got to know eachother.
    Friendship is the common link which unites this diverse group of individuals within these walls dedicated to art ….. beyond styles, fashions, and strategies of contemporary art.
    To organize these individuals into a group show has been a very easy thing to do, given that there was no question of personal taste, professional status, or unifying style to limit us in the selection process.
    Rather it was the fact that one person had dinner at this guy’s house who had just returned from a trip with this other guy, to see such-and-such, who also happened to be in the studio of so-and-so, when someone else came by unexpectedly, and introduced us to his friend, and so on, and on ….. the logic of chance and luck, art and friendship, the richocet of daily life."

Pierre Picot shows Gilles Mahé and Friends at CIAC

When it was clear that Pierre and I would come to Pont Aven for the Fall, he had the brilliant idea to create a show around the relationships of a group of Breton artists, among whom Gilles was the kind of ringleader – which was also one of the most important components of Gilles’ work, amitié, friendship.  Gilles had the most magnetic personality, and when you talked to him, you knew that he was taking in every word, every idea, every gesture you were communicating, which made him a really great friend, and artist too of course!

Next you will read the piece that Pierre used to introduce the show (email me if you want the French version) and I have posted a Photo Album for the show (just to the right) of art, artists, and friends.  Almost all of the photos are by Phillipe Rolle.  Do email me if you want a better copy of Phillipe Hardy’s text, only in French, for the show (on coral paper in the exhibition photos), his story of swimming with Gilles in the freezing water of Brittany, which Gilles did every day.

Ode to the London of Harrods and Liberty

I was so happy to get to Liberty’s in London, a place I remembered so fondly, the aesthetic of which has stayed with me, and I understand to be relatively unchanged, phew!  It’s interior of dark wood and signature print of peacock feathers on lots of things, done in a wonderfully tasteful and amusing way, just a natural continuation of the turn of the century without skipping a beat, nothing is in virtual quotes, and nothing tongue in cheek.  I guess that the past is on a continuum with the present and the future more in Europe than it is at home in the US, because the past is so deep and rich, and a bit more homogeneous than ours.  After all, we had tribesman on horseback roaming most of our land in the 1860’s, when Dickens was writing about gritty London life and George Eliot about life in the English Provinces, and the Eiffel Tower was being constructed in Paris………..anyway, Liberty’s is the same only different, and just great!  Of course I couldn’t possibly buy the etched velvet and leather handbag, even as a splurge, but I did get a bunch of wonderful Liberty textiles for my Spring Shoe Collection.

Luckily, on our last day, we popped over to Harrod's in the morning, as I thought it might be similarly enlivening, as a big old London shopping institution that retains it’s original flavor (department stores are alive and well in London, there are tons of them).  Well, it feels newer than Liberty’s and I have no idea if the amazing Egyptian Escalator Extrravaganza is Old World or Vegas Style (is Mohammed Al Fayed Egyptian?) but it is more than Old Hollywood Fabulous, as the scale is awesome.  We took it up and down seven floors just for the spectacle, stopping only in toys and in the equestrian section.  Check out my pictures for the Egyptomania and the shoes!

The street that Harrods is on is a great shopping street with a big range of prices and product.  I bought a wonderful pair of Mary Janes with heels at Office, which I had read is a great shoe shop, and this brance had the best selection I'd seen.  There are a few more reasonable shoe shops here too, as well as all kinds of clothes and accessories, as well as the famous Harvey Nicks, which I didn't venture into, only doing the more historical London on this trip. I'm already planning for my next London trip now!

Ooh la la London!

I was nervous about going to London for the first time in 26 years (!)  I was afraid that it would upset me, having no vestige left of my childhood favorite home of Carnaby Street and the Kings Road, and being a big, gritty, teeming city full of fantastic things I couldn’t possibly afford to buy, or to eat.  Well, it’s all true, except for the part about being upset, I LOVED it!  Why, you ask, well it’s certainly the most mixed and fascinating place I’ve ever been, and part of it is that it IS gritty and ugly, for the most part, with all it’s beauty in it’s content, and on the inside, which I appreciate (especially as I get older!).  I love Paris more than anywhere, because it is so damned beautiful at every turn, and it’s quality of life and affordable luxuries are amazing inside all that gorgeousness, and you don’t have to dig at all to get at it’s wonderfulness, and London is just the opposite, the Beast to Paris’s Beauty.  It’s starting to approach the real-life version of the city in Blade Runner, you know, the ruin of a once great city, with decrepit great buildings, and slick new ones, where there are big pools of yucky phosphorescent liquids on the ground, bare wires spouting sparks, and the streets are a mixture of bodegas and asian food stands, and the language is a patois of spanish, german, english, and japanese.  That’s my memory of it anyway, and London might be like that soon, and might be just as riveting. 

Dramatic, you say?  Well, it’s pretty dramatic, to me anyway.  The endless underground and cavernous museums to every conceiveable art and craft, gorgeous english-indian girls, and the world’s best tea, even in take away cups, and the nicest chattiest people in all circumstances, with every conceivable accent, each with their own way of turning a phrase, which is kind of a sport that every english speaker can play. Speaker's Corner on Sunday in Hyde Park is a tradition of free speech that is practiced with great Dickensian aplomb, like the signage to the right, mxing the past and present.

I was completely exhausted at the end of 10 days, and broke too, but I’m already looking forward to my next trip.  I found that it is a great town for buying fabric, which is really all I could afford, though I did get a pair of shoes at the wonderful Office, and perfume at Ormonde Jayne, both of which cannot be found elsewhere.  I’m saving up for the multicolor boots to order at Harrods by Ticker of Jermyn Street next time.  Of course the monetary value of things is quite confusing, and it’s hard to imagine how it works when things that cost $1 at home cost 1 Euro in France ($1.30), and 1 Pound in England, when a pound = $2!  It’s the biggest disadvantage for us, but it seems to work fairly well there, and people seem to live in London the way lots of people live in NY, although the a average cost of buying a place is 350,000 Pounds, and you couldn’t get anything in New York for $350,000, so go figure! 

I was lucky enough to spend a couple of days in the English Countryside, and I must say that it seems to be everything that one might imagine from Masterpiece Theater, which is really quite amazing.  The villages I was in seemed very involved with producing organic food and ecologically sustainable stuff, and there was an amazin g place called Ruskin Mill, where young people at risk are taught crafts, which are some of the great English traditions at work.  Viva La Grande Bretagne!

Paris at the Height of the Season

I was in Paris the week before “the collections,” which might be best, as the city wasn’t filled with store buyers and fashion pundits, and it was it’s truest self, in nice (too warm!)  weather with galloping clouds, everything in full swing at the end of September.  Of course I’d love to go to the fashion shows sometime, but it will have to wait until I actually know someone who can get me in!  Since I’ve assiduously kept away from the commercial and exhibitionist side of  fashion the whole time I’ve been in business for myself, things would have to change appreciably before such an occurence, but a change is definitely in the wind, so tune in next year.

I looked at the new things in shop windows, actually shopped a bit, and got an eyeful as usual.  I went to the Drouot auction house twice, and saw an amazing assortment of things, from the textile collection of Jeanne Lanvin, to a room full  of costume jewelry by artists and artisans of the 20th century, as well as amazonian artifacts, and the usual rooms stuffed the contents of people’s entire apartments.  I hope I am living in France when I die, so all of my stuff can be auctioned off at Drouot!  I said this to the friend I went there with and I think that she was a bit taken aback………..

My most anticipated moment was going to the newly refurbished Musee des Arts Decoratifs , which takes up the entire right wing of the Louvre, and was closed down in 1996, coincidentally the year before I started my yearly visits to Paris.  Seeing that collection was one of my most formative experiences as a design student, one which let me know definitively that I would be a designer, and when I finally returned in 1997, sadly it wasn’t available any more!  Of course that happens all the time in Europe, as it is not marked driven as the US is, so they close anything any time and that’s that.  I read that it took $34 million to redo the museum, and it was a huge undertaking to eke this money out of people, and I thought it was bizarre that they couldn’t just have one person, just sign a check for the whole thing (like David Geffen or Eli Broad could in LA) as Decorative Arts could be the single most important contribution of France to the world (OK, food too) I thought it a rather sad commentary on the state of design, that people are more interested in slapping their names on more of what they already know, like Frank Gehry and modern statements, than putting before us the amazing things that made contemporary design possible.  Do check my photo album for selections from the Museum and Paris windows.  On to London…………..

One Trip to Mont St Michel is More Than Enough!

OK, so it’s one of the seven wonders of the world because it was built on a big rocky tomb after the Archangel Gabriel spoke to some disbeliever in a dream, and he ignored it, but after repeated visits finally started it in 766, it took over five centuries to get to it’s present form, has withstood 12 fires, the ins and outs of religion and politics in France (I was intrigued to learn that Napoleon outlawed Catholicism!) and stands in the middle of one of the strongest deepest biggest tidewaters anywhere, and itself represents all of the cultural and religious shifts in France over those centuries. But IMHO (In My Humble Opinion) you can read about Mont St Michel, look a at a few pictures, and you need not spend a day of your life with hoards of the most ordinary tourists from all over the world (I counted 30 tour buses waiting for their human cargo below when we left at 3pm) trudging through the multifarious levels of this cathedral.  I was actually quite depressed after spending several hours doing the drill here, even by hearing the choir of nuns and monks who live there in the Abbey singing like angels at the noon service – they were miked forgodssake!  (This was the one moment that really touched Pierre, who was confirmed in a Paris church in the 18th).  There are astounding, magical and gorgeous churches and cathedrals waiting for you to visit them all alone in so many of the towns and villages in France one can’t even count them.  Why make a special trip to this most visited monument in the middle of nowhere, when you can be in Albi just outside Toulouse and visit the most amazing high gothic cathedral and have it all to yourself?  Or go to a Vivaldi concert at the Sainte Chapelle in Paris and weep at the beauty of the music in that astonishing little church on one of the busiest streets in Paris……….or visit this amazing 14 th century number in Southern Brittany we sort of tripped over -- Chapelle St Barbe in Le Faouet?

One more food picture........

This is filo wrapped blue cheese melted onto a slice of pear that Pierre had as his dessert at a place called The White Horse (Le Cheval Blanc) in a small town in Brittany, Chateaugiron, we were driving through at lunchtime.  And here is the Town Hall (Hotel de Ville) that we ran across getting back onto the main road, which looks like it was the original Chateau Giron.  Just another day in France....................