Have Box (and ipad), Will Travel: A Paris Art Adventure

On the left is my Pochade box, the very same painter's box that I used in Wellfleet last summer (see post from August 25, 2011). As shown here, it was on its way to 10 days in Paris. Not wanting to arrive rusty at the Luxembourg Gardens, I practiced a bit with this traveling equipment on the upstairs roof of our apartment building in New York City. What you see in the box's lid, the lid that becomes an easel, is a quick sketch of our roof pergola against the city sky. My plan was to visit Luxembourg Gardens and several other parks with this little box in hand, and to do quick oil sketches like the one shown here.

When Joan Osofsky, my traveling companion, and I arrived in Paris on April 11th, the weather had changed from days of marvelous sunshine and warmth to days of rain and cold. Paris was too wet and too chilly on many days. I needed to put aside plans for outdoor painting. But there were other ways of doing art work. Paris, after all, is a wonderful place for painting inspiration and practice whatever the weather. I was comforted and kept from disappointment by a story I remembered about the painter Bonnard and his approach to traveling as a painter:

At the start of their journey, Bonnard is picked up by a painter friend who has filled his car with painting equipment. Bonnard comes to the car empty-handed, no art supplies. His friend is shocked and asks Bonnard how he will be able to do his work on their trip to marvelous sites for painting. Bonnard responds simply: "Moi, j'observe (Me, I look)."

If it was okay for Bonnard to gather observations that he would later use in his studio, it was okay for me. So, on those rainy cold days, I replaced my Pochade box with paper and pencil and the ipad I looked, drew, and took notes and photographs as we made our way through the city streets, parks, and in museums.

Here are some of the images and notes from my travel journal.

This photo was shot through the window of one of the many stunning interior design studios on the Left Bank, near the Seine. It speaks to me of the power of fabric -- how it folds, spills over itself, its color. I need to put more fabric in my paintings.

Again, a photo with a store window (that's me you see taking the shot). This is a poster showing a detail from a very large painting by Pascal Vinardel, a contemporary artist whose work was being exhibited at the Galerie Mezzo. This image says to me: Keep painting women who are sitting at tables.


Even in the very bad weather, the light in Paris is amazing. I love this shot for both what is says about light and what it evokes about painting. So many other painters have captured the Seine with this wide sweep of the river in the foreground and the border made by walkways and the street. As you stand here, it is so easy to imagine Matisse looking out his studio window and seeing this scene with his own distinctive eye and then capturing it for all of us on canvas. I wish I had a studio that looked down upon this. How many times could I paint this view!

I love to paint cabbages. Cezanne had his mountain, I have my cabbages. These are cabbages from a display at the market on Rue de Raspail, just minutes from the apartment where we stayed. Every stand was a visual delight.
In New York city, I make regular trips to the Union Square Market to find vegetables, fruits, and flowers to put in my still life paintings. That market is a very special part of living in New York and I enjoy the gift of its location right between my home and the painting studio where I work. But no matter how much I love Union Square, it doesn't take my breath away the way Paris food markets do.

This is the view from the window of what is now a museum and what was once a marvelous private home. I am taken by the arabesque that fills the garden and the iron guard in front of the window. A painting rule: Include the arabesque in a painting, whenever you can. Matisse knew why.

Our visit to the Museum of Hunting and Nature (Musee de la Chasses et de la Nature) was a delightful surprise. Don't be put off by fears of animal head trophies and endless paintings of hunting scenes. Yes, those are there but so is so much more. Add this museum of things that need to be seen in Paris (click here for museum website, www.chassenature.org). Near the end of our tour, Joan and I came across a wonderful little room, an installation intended to be a portrait of the wife and husband who were the great patrons of the museum (the museum is made of what was their private collection). Francois and Jacqueline Sommer were great hunters and conservationists. The artist Mark Dion created as a portrait of them a hunting cabin filled with some of the couple's books, furniture, art work, travel souvenirs, smoking and drinking paraphenelia, etc. He did their portrait through objects that were meaningful to them. I have been working on this idea of portraits through objects for a while --- my own self-portrait through my painting of my favorite shoes, Dorothy's portrait that includes items from her silver and antique maps collections and her favorite jewelry, portraits of Beth's Aunt Rose and Uncle Jack through a painting of objects she gathered from the porch of their lakeside house. Seeing this room in Paris gives me lots more to think on and work with.

Yes, Paris style. Sometimes, the amazing fabric in Paris becomes amazing clothing. This is only one of countless shop windows with something fabulous in it. Looking at a jacket and shirt like this one, I understand why Matisse collected both textiles and finished pieces and clothing, and why they were so important for his painting.



This is a small section of the architectural gem that is Ste Chapelle on the Ile de la Cite. In that space, the amazing stained glass windows capture your attention. But there is more. For me, I fell in love this time with the walls and with what happens as you look across the walls and the columns. Color and pattern everywhere -- many different patterns artists put together to create an impressive effect of variety but also of complete coherence. It all works together.

Oh, this view in the Luxembourg Gardens. So many painters have painted it, but my favorite remains John Singer Sargent's versions (for an example, click here).

Yes, I did use the Pochade box. There were days when it stopped raining and it warmed a bit. On one of those, I finished this oil sketch of that view in the Luxembourg gardens.

And, when I returned to my studio in New York and the one in Pine Plains, I was able to put some of the Paris inspirations to work on canvas. See the fabric, the arabesque in that little dolphin fountain element, the strong color, the patterns, the influence of Cezanne in the arrangement of fruit and clay jar.

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