The advise given to me before I left was, roam, wander, explore, be curious and don’t put yourself under any pressure. I decided that I would spend the following few days doing just these things but sticking reactively close to base. I had to see what was on my doorstep before I started looking at places that were on my wish list but were further a field.
I packed my rack sack with all my painting kit, folding stool, water camel pack, camera and made sure I was wearing enough sunscreen to resemble Robert Patterson from Twilight. I had little expectations of actually using any of my painting kit on these initial days but I just needed to know how I faired in the heat, carrying it all. I also needed to properly test a navigation app that I downloaded, before I tried to venture too far and up mountains. * Just to reassure anyone jumping up and down, I do also always carry a map and compass when I go out trekking.
My first stop was just a short walk into Cotignac were I found a footpath that would led me to what would be a nice little waterfall if there had been a bit more rain. I was fairing very well in the heat, my pack was heavy but not a problem. The navigation app on the other hand was already starting to irritate me and I decided to forget about it and rely on physical maps instead, as well as just following my nose, remembering the advise to roam.
I wondered around Cotignac and neighbouring towns and villages, up and down streets and small alley ways that left you in no doubt that you were in rural southern France. I think I amused or bewildered some of the locals with my curiosity towards the buildings with their worn render, colourful shutters and doorways.
Gallery
In Cotignac I discovered another small gallery, which was unfortunately closed. This one seemed to be devoted to a single artist, who’s work I was very much taken by. The colours were right up my street, very muted from a simple palette range and something that I had hoped to explore further myself. The artist’s name was unfortunately written in a typeface which made a later google search for him futile. I returned a few days later where I was shown around the gallery by a nice grey haired lady, who spoke less English than I did French, which was hard to believe, but with the help of our various translation apps we muddled through. The artist was Jean Arène. He was a local artist who sadly pasted away a few years ago at the age of 90. He apparently lived in Cotignac and my guide appeared to be very well acquainted with him. He also had additional studios, or “atelier” as the French would say, scattered about Provence but he was originally from Marseille. He was a prolific en plein air painter which could be clearly seen in his work. I was shown into what I guess was the private section of the gallery, which I thought could well be a residence. There was an extremely narrow corridor with children’s scooters leaning against the wall and several more paintings hanging. Although you could never stand back far enough to be able to admire the paintings properly, the quality of his work was undeniable. Despite the nice lady’s best efforts to try and sell me one of Jean’s paintings I was very keen to come away with a book of his work as a souvenir. To be honest if I had the money I would probably buy one. I’m just hoping that it’s not going to be one of those stories that I recount to people when his work is stratospheric in price. Maybe one day!
That Nagging Feeling
It’s only been a few days since I arrived but I had a nagging need to make a start or at least to try. Everything was overwhelming my senses, the light, the colours, the heat, the sounds and the question, how do I respond to this? I was repeating the advise, not to put too much pressure on myself, yet it seems to be in my nature.
The view that I had been spoilt with back at base was a good place to start. Each time I look out onto the vista it was calling to me like a siren. My instinct was to just get out there and explore the rolling hills on foot, but that would come later and for now I needed to view from afar and break the ice with some sketchbook painting. The combination of being in very unfamiliar territory and not being very confident with my colour mixing skills, especially en plein air, this was a safety zone that I welcomed.
Before I left the UK I decided at the last minute to fashion myself an easel of some sort. Harking back to my previous post, I didn’t want to be laden down with anything that would be unnecessarily bulky or time consuming, so had previously discounted the idea. The problem is I work standing up. I had planned to just sit but I’m a clumsy clown footed fidget bum and I’m far safer standing. I decided to make myself a sketchbook and palette rest out of my camera tripod. This was coming with me anyway so I wanted to put it to an alternative use. I made myself a board fitted with the camera tripod mount fixing and ensured that it would fit inside my racksack along with my other bits. I then made a folding armature that would hold my makeshift wet-palette. The whole thing takes 1min to assemble, which suited me perfectly. Having used this several times now, I must say, I am so pleased that I decided to pack it.
