Tree in the Tuileries 31 October Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood SOLD
Institute and Pont des Arts Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/wood 13 x 7 inches
Sketch Alexandre III and Grand Palais Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/canvas panel 14 x 10 SOLD
Fall Color in the Tuileries Laurie Fox Pessemier Acrylic/linen 12 x 12
Seine toward Ile de la Cite Laurie Fox Pessemier 11 x 16 inches Acrylic/linen
Artnotes: Now or Never
“Do you think she’s going to the Frida
Khalo show?” I asked my fellow painter. A woman in a red embroidered
skirt and gold-studded boots walked by, a bit heavy on the makeup. In the
next hour, I saw more and more women looking like this; some had wigs.
Did I spend too much time in the paint? No, it was Halloween in the Tuilieries Garden.
The line for the Khalo show must
have been two hours long – a shame, I thought for those who just wanted to see
Monet’s Waterlilies, normally a half-an-hour wait at the Orangerie. I had
considered a visit to the Waterlilies on this blustery day – I needed to warm
up. But the line was daunting.
My talented first time painter and I
set up first along the Seine – near the foot of the Pont des Arts. She painted her first ever work, and I made
two. We moved to the Tuileries after a
hot chocolate (I had a wine), where she painted another, better one, and I
painted two more. Finally, we perched on
the banks of the river near the Pont Alexandre III. We each painted a canvas. I was dog tired by the time I got home and
climbed our six flights of stairs (our elevator is being updated). Then I had to take the charming Harika dog
out. Two hundred stairs in an hour. Sheesh.
Blair, meanwhile, was selling
artwork at the Contemporary Art Fair at Bastille. And sell he did: three the first day, one on Friday, and
interest by certain others/galleries. It’s the best response we’ve had in
a long time, which goes to show: TRAFFIC MATTERS. We have
been getting as many people passing by our stand in an hour as we did on rue
Servandoni (where our old gallery was), in a day. And these are people looking for art.
I stop by at least once a day to
encourage Blair and visit with whoever might be at our stand. The atmosphere is quite remarkable: Parisian
artists abound, from tricky sculptors to glittery graphists. The women across from us are 40-ish French contemporary
abstract painter and a 20- year-old Chinese girl painting “villages” in
France. Beside us are two maniacs with
hundreds of piercings (you think I am kidding -- ok, 50), red plaid pants with buckles
all over, offering weird bad-dream images of women with pointy breasts and no
hands.
The clientele is almost as good,
dressed up in ultra-cool gallery garb.
Dramatic makeup and striking jewelry can be seen as people pass by,
looking chic, pretending not to really see what’s on the wall. I got a telephone call at home today from
someone who walked by and snatched a card:
“I was there at two yesterday, can I come by your studio next week?”
I can’t believe we never did this before. I suppose there’s a time and place for
everything. Maybe we wouldn’t have been
ready, or as good, or as confident. It’s
now or never.
