Views of the Weeping Willow at the Pont Royal   M. Blair PESSEMIER and Laurie Fox PESSEMIER(pink)

Blair and I painted on the banks of the Seine this week.  Despite very grey weather, we sat on the stones and painted the willow.  When the two of us paint together, it is quite amusing:  we never see things the same.     I think something must happen when the subject enters the “interpretive” part of our brain.   I translate three dimensions into two with bright colors.   Blair has a sense of perspective.

The dilemma of the “plein air” painter is to put a three-dimensional object onto a two dimensional surface.  This dynamic, when the dynamo is working, transmits the spark, the individual interpretation, a little bit of the painter’s muse onto the canvas.    It is this interpretation which makes a painting unique.  A photo is already two dimensional, so when painting from photo, one copies what one sees.  En plein air, one is forced to transfer the actual volume of the scene onto a flat surface.   The roughness of the stones, the gloom under the bridge, the willow branches skimming the water can all be suggested by the artist.

While we were painting, two men were taking pictures of one another beneath the tree.  Later, they asked if they could photograph Harika;  one of them WITH Harika;  one with me and my painting (Harika crashed that scene).  I just love that one day our photos will appear in some far away photo album, and years hence a daughter will say, “this was my Dad when he went to Paris back in 2011”. 

A little girl was selling daffodils on the sidewalk this week, a sure sign of spring.  She had a large red bucketful of flowers, and was holding them out to passersby.  I could see her from my window, and quickly committed the scene onto a wood panel. 

The crocuses are in bloom in the garden, and I can never tell if it is someone’s perfume or the scent of flowers wafting through the air when we are out walking the dog. 

My  goal is always to finish my painting in one swoop.  It’s never the same if I have to “go back”:  the light is different, my brain is different.    I paint “loosely” when I paint outside.  In doing so, I leave lots of room for the viewer to finish the scene in his own head.  

Although one thinks mainly of figurative painting when painting “en plein air”, it is not strictly limited to painting what one exactly sees.  Paul Klee and John Marin painted outdoors.  Turner, who painted brilliantly “atmospheric” canvases, was a dedicated “plein air-ist”.  He is alleged to have tied himelf to the mast of a ship to realize the impact of a storm at sea.  I don’t think we’ll go that far.

Four Images at the Pompidou Center   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on canvas  10 x 10 inches

 Laurie Fox PESSEMIER

 M. Blair PESSEMIER

 Laurie Fox PESSEMIER

Laurie Fox PESSEMIER

Louvre at Moonrise   M. Blair PESSEMIER    Oil on canvas  25.5 x 32 inches  SOLD

Trees in February  Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic on canvas   13 x16 inches

Cold day in Honfleur    Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood   20 x 7 inches

Jean Bart    M.Blair Pessemier   Oil on canvas  25.5 x 35.5 inches  SOLD

 Cafe kitchen     Blair PESSEMIER   Oil on canvas   23 x 12 inches

 Pair of dog walkers   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER    Acrylic on wood   10 x 6 inches

 Nocha sneer      Laurie Fox PESSEMIER      Acrylic on wood   10 x 6 inches  SOLD

 Nocha Rabbit    Laurie Fox PESSEMIER    Acrylic on wood   20 x 6 inches

 Pair of Japanese Girls     Laurie Fox PESSEMIER    Acrylic on wood  10 x 6 inches

 Harika eye   Lauri Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood   10 x 6 inches

 Pair on a bench    Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood    6 x 10 inches

Upcoming Show:

  

Legacy Casual Fine Furniture  

High Point Market  April 2-7 2011

February in the Park    Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on canvas  14 x11 inches

 Artnotes: Nuts in the Park

 “You see how the nut looks?  Like your brain!  Eat three nuts a day and your brain will be protected!”  Our friend, P, faded into the distance as this lady, with the two long haired daschunds  buttonholed me.  “I’ve been worried about you,” she announced, not having seen me for several months.   She knows my mother has Alzheimers and is watching out for me.   “God has told me nuts are the answer.  Especially noisettes (hazelnuts) in the fall.” 

I enjoy walking Harika in the garden, or perhaps Harika is walking us.  We have such a repertoire of characters in the Luxembourg Gardens.  Harika has her friends, and we have ours, and fortunately they coincide from time to time.  This morning, F, the Chinese man, with a demeanor more French than the French, talks to us about American movies.  “I love them,” he announces, “especially from 1930 until 1970.  Most of the movies have dogs.  You Americans have a good sentimentality.”  He goes on to talk about a Clark Gable film where Gable is a miner and he has a dog.

F, Cerise’s mother kisses Blair on both cheeks.   P has told me this lady is searching for a husband.  I thought this was just gossip but now I don’t think that’s the case.  Today she tells us how her cat has died.  She takes a photo out of her wallet, “oh, not that one, that’s my husband, he died last year”, quickly shoving it in amongst the receipts.   She waxes affectionately about the cat, how it moved and how she loved to photograph it.   “But, as much as I like cats, I may not get another:  many men dislike cats, you know.”  I tell her a man that doesn’t like animals isn’t worth having.  She shakes her head and brushes my cheek.

We press on.  There are four men walking around in six inches of water, in the pond, scooping up fish in nets.  Some are clearly more adept at this than others, and the occasional seagull makes a score.  It’s the yearly cleaning out of the “bassin”.  I envision diamond rings from broken engagements, babies’ pacifiers, numerous rocks and coins.   I am not sure I am correct, but can’t really investigate because Harika is prohibited to enter that section of the park.  The ducks laugh heartily.

I alternate between loving the park and feeling like I am there with a bunch of busybodies.  Keeping my distance is the key – my broken French helps in that regard.  Blair and I are the only ‘couple’ to walk a dog – of this Harika is proud.  We are also the only ones who really play with our dog, chasing Harika when she steals my glove, or tossing a stick when we can find one.  It is clear that we treat our dog differently than the French treat their dogs.  Harika, in our mind, isn’t entirely a dog.

It’s a sunny day with lots of promise.  I wear my spring jacket, perhaps a bit to soon, F points this out.

We have coffee at Omar’s – he is from Tunisia and he makes the best coffee in the neighborhood.  He smiles when we enter, that giant smile like we are his favorite customers.  If I were to give advice on how to have a successful café, I would say, SMILE.    I would pay any price for that.

If I were to advise any dictator how to stay in power, I would tell him to make sure the people at the bottom are happy.  Toss aside a billion you’ve stolen to allow the poor to eat, and the educated to have jobs.  I would advise the protesters to have a plan before overthrowing the dictator:  to me, a coup is the more effective route.

As my mother used to say, “Nuts for the nutty.”

Laurie (painting and text) and Blair PESSEMIER

 
 

 Tulips   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER    Acrylic on canvas   13 x 9"  SOLD

Guy  Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on canvas  10 x 6 inches





Artnotes: Location

I got off the bus on the wrong side of Palais Royal.  I have a terrible time with bus routes, especially when they take a different route coming than going.  I am sure I am not the only one with this problem.  There is always someone in the aisle studying the map, pushing the stop button and then not disembarking.

I love to walk through Palais Royal, anyway – it is where Colette lived, and the windows are always wonderful.  It’s experienced a renaissance of new designer clothing stores, mixed in with the medals and the famous restaurant Grand Vefour.   Maybe if Blair signs up a job this week we can celebrate with lunch.  Meanwhile we eat rice.

I head for galerie Vivienne.  My friend Y has been helping me find “rain sites” for my painting workshops.  Although I have the best intentions, it is possible it could rain during the workshops, and I need to be prepared.  There is no month without rain in Paris.

Galerie Vivienne isn’t bad.  It is a “passage” between two streets, with a bend in the middle.  There’s a coffee shop and some stores:  very nice architectural envelope, with glass skylights and an ocular window.  It is a possibility for painting people sitting in the café, passing by, or to paint some architectural element.   As my workshop fills up, I need to make everything just right.

I’m not only looking for places for my associates to paint, but also for ME to paint.  I have really enjoyed the café people and scenes.  We decide not to stay in at the café here:  it’s a bit too cold to sit in the passage, and the inside is too sparsely peopled.   We walk by the passage Colbert – not a really a public passage, and it looks “cold”.  We decide to head back through the Palais Royal.   Palais Royal has  wonderful mosaic sidewalks beneath generous arcades, and a green park in the center: kids play and dogs run free, even today, in February.  If it were raining lightly, this could work as a painting site.

We emerge on the other side of the plaza,  and find a spot under the heatlamps of a sidewalk café.  It is a little crowded, and when I start to paint I feel I am seated in economy on the airplane.  I adjust.  The waiter gives me a hairy eyeball:  tough.

I love to paint with Y.  She is relaxed.  We talk a little before settling in.  She’s found a new store she likes, Hema from the Netherlands – it has 50centime toothpaste.   We order  two noisettes (espresso with a dash of cream), end up with two espressos.   The waiter thinks he’s mighty handsome, flirts with Y and the other pretty girls on the terrace; forgets our waters.

I actually like le Fumoir the best of our painting sites.  They always get the coffee just right and bring an entire carafe of water.  It’s dark there, though, and one must get a window table to paint.  We painted there the day before.  I did five small “heads”.  The people look good at le Fumoir, but they look good here, too – the ones in the plaza out front, anyway.  Here on the terrace there are a lot of older men trying to look hip. I paint one and regret it.  I stick with pretty girls and men in turtlenecks.

We spend two and a half hours over a cup of coffee.  I can do this with Y or another girlfriend, but Blair will not sit in a café that long.  Coffee may cost 2.30, but I look at it as table rental.  And the view is unsurpassed.

A little after five I roll up my tent.  I’ve painted a redheaded girl with a ponytail and flouncy white skirt smoking a cigarette; another girl with black clothing, boots and a red handbag; the old man (yech); two Japanese girls who moved just a little too fast.  I am going home because I invited people for stuffed tomato dinner.  I made up a new recipe:  North African style lamb stuffing.   My paintings of the week are lined up in the hallway.  One of the diners buys two of today’s paintings, and I think, hmmm, maybe this was a good spot.

Puget Sound Tug   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood  6 x 10 inches

Over Coffee   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood  6 x 10 inches

Timber   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood  10 x 6 inches

Trees Toulouse   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood  10 x 6

Elbows   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood 10 x 6 inches

Eyebrows   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood   10 x 6 inches

Fingers  Laurie Fox PESSEMIER  Acrylic on wood   10 x 6 inches

In the Trees   Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on Canvas  6 x 10 inches

Redhead at the table    Laurie Fox PESSEMIER   Acrylic on wood  10 x 5 inches (approx)