Morning Provence

I awoke my first morning to a scene of pure landscape eye nectar. The morning made no hesitation at introducing itself. It was already in the mid twenties and the chorus of Cicadas amplified as the sun rose.

Responding

I had made a promise that I would try to be kind to myself and allow time to adjust and ease into this new and completely uncharted experience.

The day before I had driven from Marseille to my new base. Driving through an iconic landscape that has been etched into my psyche from a child, not from personal experience, but through the paintings of the French Impressionists. I freely admit to getting quite excited when I first saw a scattering of Poplar trees and Umbrella Pine, immortalised in my mind, by Vincent Van Gogh and Cézanne. I felt like a kid who was brazen enough to jump into nextdoor’s garden to fetch his ball back, sneaking a moment to look around at the new perspective. Suddenly everything seemed real, exciting but more than just a little daunting. How was I going to respond to this?

The word RESPOND means a lot to me. Shortly after I decided to pursue art full time, I found myself in a place of frustration. I had gone from being very loose and unapologetic with my paintings to feeling flat and the opposite of inspired whenever I was trying to record my observations.

 

I attended a talk by artist Janette Kerr, following up on her voyage to the high Arctic and resulting exhibition. During her talk Janette made a comment, along the lines of “I had to ask myself, how do I respond to this landscape?” In that single moment everything just fell into place “Respond”, that’s it, I haven’t been responding, I’ve been rigid, trying too hard to faithfully record what I see, but not connecting. I don’t have to draw a picture perfect of what is in front of me, that just doesn’t excite me. My lines don’t need to be exact or accurate…in fact almost the opposite…..my sketches and my paintings need to be a response…my response. Suddenly those simple words, that were almost just thrown away, had altered my way of thinking into a positive and much more expressive one.

These words came back to me with a renewed relevance and I keep repeating them as a way of reassuring myself that it is okay to NOT know.

Bearings

I spent the first day gathering some food supplies and started to workout my immediate surroundings. At the top of my list was the nearest Boulangerie, thankfully there are about three within walking distance as well as the retail outlet for the locally produced wine, a micro brewery plus a multitude of cafés and restaurants. I understand that any illusions of a hard up art residency has now just been shattered.

I wondered into town and I was most pleased to see a wonderful looking art centre the Centre D’Art La Falaise advertising an up coming exhibition by Eugène Brands. The poster looked great, abstract art and the exhibition was starting whilst I was here, it wasn’t something that I had just missed or was going to miss, as is so often the case……I freely admit I had no idea who Eugène Brands was but I was hoping to take in some local art exhibitions and here was a very promising looking one right on my doorstep. More on that later…

I was desperate to break the ice with the locals, try out my few words of French. I had downloaded Google Translate before leaving but after testing it I thought better of it, telling the locals “I would like a massage with cheese” or “I want a simple gram of cheese” or worst still “I want to kill you with cheese” wasn’t a good start and may lead to an injunction or at least some awkward silences over an exchange of dairy products or services. I had best restrict Google to translating text and stick to being polite and then asking if they speak English. Most locals seem to either not speak much English or are just reluctant to do so, I don’t blame them, why should they. Imagine us Brits being expected to speak French to a tourist!

After walking around for a bit I found a nice little Café and was even more delighted to hear the owner speaking good English. I introduced my presence and made my ineptitude with the French language quite clear. After enjoying my first coffee and soaking up the atmosphere, time came to pay. I hadn’t brought any cash out with me because I had heard that everywhere was accepting card due to Covid….Nope! Not everywhere. After some embarrassment and awkwardness I was able to leave without waiting tables, having bought several bags of their own ground coffee I was able to pay by card. Lesson learnt.

Back at base I unpack and sorted out my art supplies and sit outside, drinking my now ample supply of coffee.

With dusk descending I notice how the evening brings about a complete change. The constant chatter from the Cicadas was dying away and I notice that I am joined by a Gecko, minus a tail, scurrying along the wall and then later by bats which seem to be nesting in the eaves of the house. I watch as one by one they shoot out and start darting off in different directions. Only minutes before the sky was full of swallows feeding on the insects that were waking up from the heat of the day.

There seems to be a distinct changing of the guard, almost a treaty between the swallows and the bats. The evening sky would fall silent for a short while as the swallows disappear and the bats take charge.