Month: January 2012

Do you know those tourists that spend so much time with their camera glued to their faces that they don’t actually experience anything? I am embarrassed to admit it but that was me last Sunday after our wonderful lunch in the Luberon. Blame it on Loumarin. I do. There is just something about this village that wheels up my ooh machine to a manic pace. It is vaguely perfect with just enough fuzzy old acheyness around the outer edges to keep it from being whimsically cute.

We are heading into the time of the year when I get quiet. I am more interested in looking than in speaking as if I need to take in fuel for a fire that will burn in the spring. Or maybe it is just a state of mimicry of the sleeping land around me. Also so very quiet. A faded form of flânerie.

Yesterday was one of those afternoons where dear friends pulled Remi and I out of our hibernation to spend the day in the Luberon. Originally, the excuse was to buy wine at the truly excellent Chateau la Verrerie but alas, they were closed as is so much during this “off” season. Fortunately for us, our friends had reserved ahead at a charming auberge in Curcuron. We tucked Ben under the table as best as we could and then spent the next few hours talking until the cheese trolley was rolled away. Yes, of course, we needed to walk after and so off we went. I held my camera low and tight, looking for scraps for fuel. Happily, I found enough that this day will be stop-watched into two or three.

And of course, I am far from being la seule, the only person who knows what treasures can be found here. The Musée Départemental Arles-Antique (or the Musée Bleu as it is affectionately called by the locals in reference to the shining blue exterior) is home to one of Provence’s most important collections of Roman antiquities. Last Tuesday, while the museum was closed to the public (save for groups of giggling students), Remi had a phenomenal opportunity to photograph its masterpiece and I happily agreed to be his assistant. 

The discovery of a bust of Julius Caesar in the waters of the Rhone River made headlines around the world. Although its provenance has been disputed, it is generally considered to be the oldest such bust and one of the few that was carved during his lifetime. We were able to spend hours in front of it and never tired to be under the Emperor’s gaze. His brows are furrowed, from one side he appears victorious, the other defeated. Under the pop of the studio lights he seemed alive, as if he could bark out orders for us plebeians to bow out of his fine presence. Several times I was mere inches from his face. It was as good as dancing with the Mona Lisa.

Caesar and the rest of his formerly underwater companions, such as the bearded Neptune below and the floating Victoire, will be featured in an exhibition at the Louvre this March, following the monumental success of “César, le Rhone pour mémoire” in Arles in 2009. But the museum is not resting on its laurels, far from it. The archeological digs in the Rhone have continued, including the Arles Rhone 3 project that Remi is documenting for National Geographic. Currently on display is the work of Jean-Claude Golvin, an archeologist with the National Scientific Research Center that has given 1000 of his incredibly precise watercolor paintings to the museum.

The paintings have been installed to great effect. A long funeral procession enlarged to life-size lines the sculpted sarcophagi and throughout the watercolors are organized by theme to create a greater understanding of the Roman way of life. Jean-Claude Golvin’s exhibition is running until May 6th in Arles and I highly recommend it. For further information, please see the Museum’s website.

When Remi wasn’t in need of a helping hand, I left him alone with Caesar and wandered the museum alone. What an incredible luxury to have so much beauty all to myself. I have long been fascinated by the enduring appeal of mosaics and always see something new each time I gaze at the museum’s floors, found while renovating a home in Trinquetaille on the other side of the Rhone. The flow of a toga, the curve of a leopard’s back…

As the afternoon wore on, the light slid across the roof, sneaking in the windows, pulling long shadows on the maquette or model that depicts what Roman Arles looked like. I could practically smell the fires burning and hear the cries emanating from the Arena.

Certainly there were elements of brutality to those times but the overwhelming sensation while regarding the artifacts is one of finesse. Such delicacy was used in the creation of even the most common objects. How much we have lost in that regard, thinking that everything is disposable with often a weary nonchalance for the seen and unseen world around us. Two steps forward, one step back, a different kind of dance. As we packed up our lights, I felt the weight of Caesar’s expression one last time before the security glass separated us and wondered what he would say today if only he could speak.

As a self-respecting Golden Retriever, Ben has his priorities straight. What do you need to be happy in life? Food. It’s just that simple. That and yes, some affection but since he has so much of that, he tends to focus the vast majority of his efforts on achieving his primary goal. Through the years, he has honed his technique down to a fine science, one that is applicable to many of life’s obstacles.

STEP ONE: STAKEOUT

How on Earth can you expect to get what you want if you don’t even know where the object of your intentions is? In this case, that would be me, the person who will eventually feed him his dinner at 6pm or so. Just to be on the safe side, from 4pm on, Ben doesn’t let me out of his sight. Although his first line of fire is under my desk, he is ready to travel a yard or two if I happen to change rooms.

STEP TWO: DENIAL

Once you have successfully persuaded the object of the importance of your wishes, move to Step Four. Again, it is important to position yourself in the immediate proximity and do whatever it takes to give your saddest, most pitiful look. Yes, like those clowns in the paintings that are on black velvet. Practice this look in a mirror when you are alone. The idea is to evoke utter pity, one for a beast that has not eaten since morning and might fade away if not immediately attended to. This might just be your step to victory.

STEP FIVE: ANGER

If amazingly, you are dealing with someone who has a heart of stone, then it is perfectly acceptable to fight fire with fire. Get mad! Bark if you need to! The slitty eyed “I curse you” glance can be especially effective.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. At this point, you have no other choice. Force the object of your intentions to deal with you. Feel free to plop down by her chair with your back towards her so that you are sitting on her feet. She is trapped and must do your bidding. Either that or, if you are up to it, try a multi-combo move incorporating Step Four by placing your head on her lap and blaze her with the Velvet Painting Eyes. This will work nine times out of ten.

If by some horrible tragedy, none of the previous steps have worked, well then, it is time to pull out all of the stops. This takes reflection and planning. What is the exact expression that will cause her to crack on this precise day? Will the “Slow tail wag in addition to the goofy grin” work? Not always. This is a freestyle, creative move but once you have mastered it and the rest of the steps, then the world is yours! 

I can’t be the only one that is eternally grateful that such a monster of a full moon is gone daddy gone. I have always been especially susceptible to its pull but this month I could have eaten the world in two bites and drank it down with a flick of the wrist. Full of the sea change within me, within all of us, I would have broken out the big wings to fly if only I could.   

But good things can come of strange things. What beauty that bone white orb spread across our ancient monuments. Walking through, with my love at my side, I arrived at a bit of time holding its breath, just before the wane. Une petite pause. And très juste, this light, one entirely unafraid of banishing the dark.

Yes, I am a liiiitle bit behind in my posting but it seems like I am not the only one who is taking her sweet time dipping into 2012. And yet I certainly have nothing to complain about as the year started with a bang. Well, the pop of a champagne cork to be more precise. We were invited out to lunch with our friends in the country for the day of the 1st. Thank goodness our friends are so generous with us and that we are now smart enough to just say, “Why thank you, we’d be delighted.” 

We clinked our coupes outside, each turning to let the sun give its first bisou de l’année on our cheeks. Talk about an air kiss! How could you not be conscious of having good fortune under such circumstances? We almost, almost could have had lunch on the patio.

Yes, I know. How many times am I going to publish photos of this view? As long as it continues to make me so happy, I suppose. But really? The curve of the pines, the glisten of the olive grove, the monstrosity of the Chateau des Baux in the background…only in Provence.

There are over 350 dealers spread out amidst several “villages” each with their own distinctive ambiance. As usual, we started with our favorite, Le Passage du Pont, also known as L’Ile aux brocantes. We love the less formal ambiance and also the extraordinary selection of pieces that wear their patina proudly on their oh-so-perfectly-tattered sleeves. We also were delighted to run into the couple that sold us the beautiful over-dyed linen sheets at the local monthly brocante in Arles. Their permanent stand was packed to the gills with gorgeous antique textiles but we were kept busy by a rather philosophical conversation with one of the owner’s who is taking the same doom and gloom stance towards the French economy that the French press has been hounding us with for months.

Yes, there is still a bit of industrial style present and many of the important pieces have thankfully lost their overly restored Provençale gloss.

As charmed as I was by the vignettes and as clearly as I was lusting after the linen covered ottoman that I had absolutely zero use for, I felt drawn like a moth to a flame, as I always do, to the stand of Annie Gravezat. Along with her partner Bernard Roux, she was one of the pioneers of patina in Southern France and certainly an innovator in elevating that style from quirky to iconic. 

I couldn’t help think of my friend Brooke Giannetti, whose wonderful book Patina Style, became an instant success in the States. Yes, this is right up her and her husband’s Steve’s alley and I am looking forward to their discovering all of Provence next summer. 

…as well as the oooh ever-so-slightly kitsch. And yet, this Chinese temple lantern was the only piece that really tempted us that day. Would it look just right in our ‘petite salon’ hanging above our antique travel photography or would it be too much? With a sigh, we decided too much. Not without a bit of bumming as it is something that we have never seen before nor will most likely see again. Did we make a mistake?

I am thrilled to let you all know that one of Remi’s photographs will be in the January 9th edition of The New Yorker. The photograph illustrates “Reversal of Fortune,” an article by Patrick Radden Keefe concerning the lengthy struggle of the Ecuadorian people to hold Chevron financially responsible for the pollution created during the company’s twenty-year drilling process (under Texaco at the time) in the country. It is quite simply, the largest environmental suit ever and a case of David versus Goliath if ever there was one. Those of you that read the New Yorker will know that the use of photography in the magazine is fairly recent and remains rare so we are doubly pleased that Remi’s photograph was chosen for an issue that is dear to our hearts. 

Remi first captured the story while on assignment for Vanity Fair magazine. His photographs accompanied the article “Jungle Law” by William Langewiesche in 2007. Remi’s experience while shooting in the midst of the Ecuadorian rain forest was both challenging and striking as he captured some of the 900 oil waste pits left behind as well as portraying those suffering from cancer (the risk of death by the disease is up to thirty times in the region than elsewhere). For further of his photographs on the subject, please see his website but again, as these photographs are copyrighted, I ask that they not be borrowed or pinned.