Reflections Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic on linen 9.5 x 16 inches SOLD
Fontainebleu Blair Pessemier Acrylic on wood 7 x 12 inches
The forest at Fontainebleu Laurei Fox Pessemier Acrylic on linen 9 x 13 inches SOLD
Boats at the Bois de Boulogne Blair Pessemier Acrylic on linen 9 x 13 inches SOLD
ARTNOTES: Into the Woods
ARTNOTES: Into the Woods
We had a rental car in Paris this week, so we decided to
take a trip to Fontainebleau, in the spirit of so many impressionist
painters. Our initial idea was to paint
“rocks” – a unique feature to the park.
We invited a friend, who suggested we make a sidetrip, which actually became
the focus of our journey.
We visited the home of Stephane Mellarme, a French poet born
in 1842. His work is among the most
difficult to translate into English – when I read it in French it is wonderful,
but to put in English just doesn’t “go”.
He worked as an English teacher, to make ends meet; he translated Poe’s
Raven into French, where it was illustrated by Manet. Mallerme
had an apartment in Paris, and the cottage we visited, in Vulaine- sur-Seine,
on the banks of the river. He was a “connected”
artist – he conducted salons attended by Degas, Manet, Whistler, Poe, Yeats, Rainer
Maria Rilke, Paul Valéry, Stefan George, and Paul Verlaine, just to mention a
few. His portrait in an etching by
Gaugin, hung on the wall of the house we visited, alongside a photo taken by
Degas, with Degas reflected in the mirror.
I felt tremendously inspired to
get my Sunday salon underway, something I’ve been trying to do since January.
The house was filled with interesting pictures, his
furniture (he is associated with his rocking chair, wearing a plaid blanket
over his shoulders) and a small show of his work and accompanying
illustration. He wrote some of his poems
on fans, intended for his wife, mistress and daughter. The gardens were marvelous, and he even wrote
poetry the wall of the privy.
We’d brought a picnic to eat, and afterward ate on the banks of the Seine, with Harika. We saw a very large bird winging our way, “a
heron”, I announced, but it was in fact a swan. The gigantic bird landed on the water by
running on its enormous black feet, loud
slaps on the water. It was clearly
interested in our lunch. Harika had no
intention of sharing, and eyed the bird menacingly. As the two got closer, the fowl took to
hissing, and having had enough, Harika jumped in after it. I had to clamber down the rocks to haul the
wet dog out of the water, but it succeeded at putting the bird at bay for a
short time.
The sun was warm enough we took of our coats and shoes and dangled
our toes in the Seine. After chicken and
remoulade, carrots, cheese and bread (with wine, of course), we packed our bags
to be off to paint.
It is quite amazing how large the forest of Fontainebleau
actually is: an area of 110 square
miles! We opted for a little turnoff by
the road, where the trees seemed illuminated, pale green and yellow. Blair sat down at once, and our friend, Harika
and I went further into the woods, where cars were barely heard. I painted the illuminated trees. There were no mosquitoes yet, but lots of
little insects. Two of the king’s horses
passed by (the police, on the trail of prostitutes), and we found a rock which
resembled a large chunk of ice. I
picked it up for a souvenir from our foray into the country.
