Lucas Cranach and Paris Rooftops at Night

Last night there was a group of middle-aged people a few doors down hanging out on a terrace and getting drunk on wine. Later on in the night, I heard one of them break out a Guitar and play the most beautiful Flamenco I've ever heard. I threw open the window to listen and it was a beautiful night - clear and warm, and I could see the rooftops of my neighborhood and the lit-up steeple of Notre Dame, so I broke out my oil paints and did this little Nocturne painting from my window.


I wandered around the Luxembourg gardens today. I think they were built by the Medici Family, but they are like luxurious Roman gardens from ancient times, complete with classical sculpture and fountains.







There is also the Musee de Luxembourg, a grand museum inside the gardens, which happens to have an amazing exhibit up right now: " Lucas Cranach et Son Temps" (Lucas Cranach and his time).






It was a comprehensive exhibition of the life and works of Lucas Cranach, the man who ushered in the Northern European Renaissance when he became the Court painter of Wittenburg (then an Austrian enclave of the Holy Roman Empire).



He was also close friends with Martin Luther and played a crucial role in propagating the ideals of the Protestant reformation.
His paintings have a beautiful strangeness to them - the golden figures in his paintings emerge out of dark, lush jewel-toned landscapes. The serpentining rhythms and shapes give his work a certain sensuality - and ironically the same paintings contain in them a warning against the passions they seek to ignite.






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Location:Paris, France

Gypsy Lilacs and a Pilgrimage to the Sacred Heart

There is an old gypsy woman with a mouth full of gold teeth who sits on a street corner selling wild flowers near my apartment. Last night as I was walking home she was holding up bouquets of lilacs that I couldn't pass up. The price she shouted to me was very reasonable, but when I got out my wallet to pay her, the price she demanded magically doubled. Gypsy magic. I told her I could not buy the lilacs at this price, and began to walk away. She changed her tune.

So now my apartment is filled with aromatic lilac fragrance - not to mention a great still life subject. It was a beautiful day today and I opened my living room windows to let all that air and light in, set down the lilacs, and got to work.











In other news, this morning's fruit tarte:


Breakfast has become a holy experience. It changes your attitude to eat something that's made with that much care and artisanship. Yesterday I saw these fruit tarts in a 'patisserie' window walking home, and I couldn't wait to come back and get one in the morning. I could hardly sleep last night in anticipation. Sad but true.

This afternoon I made a pilgrimage to the Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart) Basilica in Montmartre.


Montmartre used to be home to many important Early modern artists, progressives and Bohemians, like Modigliani. There are still lots of artists here, but touristy ones. Montmartre is unique because it is situated on top of a butte (mound of land) so it provides a stunning view of all of Paris.


The bad news: you get up there by climbing hundreds of steps. The good news: Burned off the fruit tarte.
This is my second time visiting the Sacre Coeur and it is a marvel - it has a Byzantine style interior with mosaics covering the ceilings and walls. I arrived just in time for Vespers (evening prayers) and there was a choir of nuns chanting Lenten meditations from the Psalms and other scriptures - in French. They sounded like Angels - I wanted to stay there forever. It held my heart and mind aloft - amazing how music and art can launch you into the presence of the Indescribable.


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Location:Paris, France

Cherry Blossoms and a Night with the Masters

On the first day I arrived here, I was so taken aback by the billowing pink Japanese cherry blossoms that surround Notre Dame just down the street from my apartment. Everywhere I went, I couldn't stop thinking about these overflowing, gushing bushels of pink, cotton candy flowers. This morning when I woke up, I had a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn't be in prime time much longer, and the blooms were probably at their peak now. Daryl, if you're reading this, I dedicate this painting to you - this is probably one of your favorite fleeting sights in Tokyo.


Let me tell you - as soon as you get out a paintbrush in public in Paris you become a major spectacle, 95% of which are wide-eyed children, trying to get their parents to stop and let them watch for a little. Precious.





This painting is a little silly and I have to admit I'm self conscious of it. It was so out of control, so childish, so... pink. But I was so lost in the moment when I was painting them, that the outcome didn't matter.

The Louvre was open until 10 PM tonight - so I took myself on a date to spend an evening with all my favorite paintings. I had butterflies.


This will be the first of many trips to the Louvre, so I spent most of the time with the Dutch and French painting wings, intending to visit others later. The paintings that impacted me are too many to list here, but below are some highlights. (excuse the glare - taken with my iPhone). There are two rooms full of expansive Nicolas Poussin paintings and countless Rubens' and a few little Vermeer gems.











I finished off the night with an evening snack at 'Les Deux Magots', the historic cafe where Earnest Hemingway and Ezra Pound and many other literary figures hung out. Of course, it is overpriced and very "old money" now, but it was fun to imagine being there amidst "The Lost Generation" in the 1920's.


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Location:Paris, France

Manet: the Man who Invented Modernity

This was the title of the exhibition that opened today at the Musee d'Orsay. I waited in a massive line to enter the museum - this is a momentous occassion - Manet is one of France's own heroes, as the lofty title suggests. I was so blown away by the scale, depth and quality of the permanent collection of 19th century painting and sculpture at the Musee d'Orsay that I will save it for another blog post. For now I will just focus on Manet, the man of the hour.


I must admit I have always had a distaste for the brusqueness of Manet's realism, the harsh opaque blacks and the whites that appear to be spackled onto the canvases, and his vigorous frantic brush marks. His friend, the French writer and critic Emile Zola wrote that "One can see in Manet's paintings a fierce search for truth'. Maybe it is this fierceness that has made me wince in the past, but has also led me to re-examine him with interest and appreciate him anew.









Today I began to see the important connection between Manet and Spanish painting. His works have that bold and generous paint quality of Velaszquez and the strange dramatic tension of Goya and El Greco's works. He even painted many Spanish subjects - traditional Spanish dancers in all their sexy bold finery. Baudelaire once remarked "the genius of Spain resides now in France".


Manet's friendship with the poet and art critic Charles Baudelaire was important, as they both sought to bring romanticism into modern life. This is seen most clearly in Manet's famous "Olympia" and "Dejeuner sur l'herbe"


using themes from Italian Renaissance painting and giving them a very harsh modern treatment in these pictures. Even the lighting is harsh and direct. He painted religious compositions to gain public acclaim, but instead scandalized everyone with his 'profane' treatment of sacred subject matter. His "Dead Christ Supported by Two Angels" was mocked by one critic who called it "Christ in the Cellar, supported by Two Chimney Sweeps".


On a lighter note, my dinner tonight: Artisanale Gelato


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Location:Paris, France

The Chocolate Crisis and Three Fine Fellas

Since most museums in Paris are closed today, I used the day to take care of the internet problem at my apartment. It hasn't worked since I arrived and I spent most of my day dealing with this - my apologies for delayed email replies! Long story short: it'll be up & running next week.

After the frustrating Internet debacle, I desperately needed fresh air, and more importantly - chocolate. I decided to kill 2 birds with one stone and explore "Le Marais" neighborhood across the Seine, while on a mission to find the perfect chocolate dessert.


Le Marais is the Jewish neighborhood of Paris and there are so many shops and markets with Israeli spices and beautiful Mediterranean kosher foods. It is very bohemian and full of thrift stores, street musicians, antiques, art galleries and other treasures.


I made a point to pass by Victor Hugo's home at Place des Vosges, as well as steal a quiet moment at the beautiful Church of St. Paul. Later, I was on a street corner staring dumbfounded at my guidebook when a wildly eccentric old woman approached me and asked what I was looking for. Her hair was wrapped in a purple turban with a rhinestone-encrusted brooch hanging off of it, and it looked like she was wearing every article of clothing she owned. I promptly responded in French that I was seeking the best chocolate in Le Marais. She gave me a challenging look and asked if I was "serious" about chocolate, and if so, she knew a place that was very expensive but no doubt the best chocolatier. She was like an angel in the form of a crazy aunt.
After following her vague directions and asking several passers-by for help, I finally arrived to find employees wiping down the counters - It had just closed. I was a rabid wolf at this point.
I found another place in my guidebook a mile away rumored to have legendary deserts and live gypsy music. After hiking there and sightseeing on the way, I arrived to find the place packed without one single table or barstool available. Foiled again. I roamed the neighborhood and let my intuition guide me to this adorable cafe where I sat outside and ordered the most delicious chocolate cake I've ever had.


Next to me sat a table of 3 friendly guys from the South of France who struck up a conversation with me. They were celebrating their friend's birthday in Paris and were heading to the Eiffel tower to finish the night. They said it would be a great "birthday surprise" if I would join. Of course - it was the icing on the cake. Pun intended.








Tomorrow, the Musee d'Orsay awaits. Can't sleep - it is like the night before Christmas.


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Location:Paris, France

Prince of Dreams

Today I went to see an arresting exhibit at the Musee Grand Palais entitled - "Odilon Redon: Prince du Reves" (Prince of Dreams). Odilon Redon was a late 19th century painter and printmaker who was a leading figure in the European Symbolist movement. Highly influenced by the French painters Delacroix and Gustave Moreau, he sought to articulate his brooding and mystical inner life, drawing on Biblical imagery, the poetry of Edgar allen Poe and Gustave Flaubert as well as modern science, the realm of the subconscious, and Darwin's theory of evolution. He believed that forms could transcend their literal aesthetic appearance and reveal deeper realities about the human experience. Angels, demons, prehistoric humans, madmen and prophets haunt his canvases.
I spent the whole day at this vast exhibition - walked through it 3 times - he was so prolific. The guards at the museum were brutal and I couldn't get away with taking any photos, but here's a selection I found online.



















Seeing Odilon Redon's body of work today was a breakthrough for me as an artist. In his visionary etchings, drawings, and paintings I saw the meeting place of the mind, body, and soul. In my life and work I am always trying to address the balance and harmony between passion and reason, darkness and light, death and resurrection, the life of the imagination and the realm of real forms.


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Location:Paris, France

La Vie Parisienne

It is the end of day two in Paris and already I'm falling in love with this city. First day was not much to tell - the shuffle of getting from the airport to my apartment and meeting the landlord - a jolly old French woman who spoke rapid-fire French to me while explaining the heating, laundry, cable, etc. This wreaked havoc on my fuzzy, sleep deprived, jet-lagged brain and I almost burst into tears. But instead I followed along, asking her to repeat each sentence "encore, plus lentement" (again, more slowly). This was a blessing in disguise, as it was exactly the French lanuage boot camp that I needed to dig up my long-forgotten dormant French vocab reservoir. This place is adorable - two big windows in the front with light spilling in, antique furniture, a comfy queen-size bed, and just enough space in the corner of the living room for the little makeshift studio I set up.







The location is a little hard to believe - my street literally empties out onto a view of Notre Dame Cathedral, towering and majestic in all her Gothic beauty. I took a walk tonight in my neighborhood to really get acclimated. Below is the view tonight from the end of my street.


At night, the cafes of 'le Quartier Latin' fill with exotic-looking people, and the steam, smells, and flavors of every kind of cuisine fill the air. Vintage neon lights shine against the late evening sky, and the energy - the verve and excitement- is contagious.

Today I decided to get acquainted with Paris by taking myself on a walking tour spanning the width of Paris all along the Seine. I walked miles, taking time to linger at all the major sites (This week I gave myself permission to be a 'tourist'). After stopping at the Hotel des Invalides (burial site if Napoleon), taking a stroll in the Tuilerie Gardens, passing the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsay, browsing the art & antique dealers of the 7th district, the shops on the Champs-Elysees and finally the Arc de Triomphe, I stopped to eat at a sidewalk cafe. Sitting behind me was an old woman handing food to a squawking cockatoo perched on her shoulder, and to my right was a couple reading a book, kissing, and gazing into each other's eyes. This is my kind of city.