link Remembering La Napoule
Here is an essay response I wrote shortly after I returned to Wisconsin.
My experience: La Napoule Artist Residency
The riches of this residency are not easy to express, nor will I completely understand the fullness of its impact immediately. But to wake each day with only the language of paint and painting in my mind, allowed me to be immersed in a language that is not spoken, but observed and envisioned.
The light in La Napoule bounces from the cliff-face, to the underbelly of the waves, to the air. It is a crisp light, one that saturates color and lets you see into the distance. The light bounced off my painting too and for that matter off of me. I have realized that in the Midwestern United States shadows are cohesive, nearly flat and grounding. But in La Napoule, forms seem to almost levitate with shadows inflected with reflected light. The air shimmers with color. It is a marvel to observe these unique conditions and as importantly, to understand by way of contrast, the conditions of my home. Like the light, the people presented a contrast as well. People on the streets and in the markets ate peaches, let juice run down their chin, and stole a moment to nuzzle their spouses neck. The children were in harmony, as leaves on a tree are in harmony with the whole tree; jostling and blowing, doing just what they are want to do. Bread delivered daily, just enough. Topless bathers of nearly all ages were not sexualized but sensual and natural: at ease. Now home, I see, as if for the first time, the solidity of shadows, the people taking-in nature, but who are not as seamlessly “natural” and the introspective light, singular and soft, filtered through clouds.
I found myself making a portrait of the light and air of La Napoule; the geography, the architecture and the people. Each day, as the sun rose I was out painting. I noticed the rhythm of the beach and the bathers; first the-early-morning-man and his dog, then the older women visiting; their white hair golden in the morning light, the tri-athletes swimming the buoy lines and finally the young ones and mothers splashing and building on the shores a small city of colorful umbrellas. The slowly elongating reflection of the Chateau, the beach and Sempe were unified but changing on the water. After the morning study I moved to a view of a solitary cliff or distant vista. Then a swim and dinner, and finally in the evening more cliffs, rocks, more water; so blue, green violet and grey, more sky.
The 27 plus paintings I made in the course of 10 days are not just a record or a vignette (although they certainly are just that), they are additionally a relationship with a subject, slowly uncovered through the act of careful observation and mixing of paint.
My memory of the residency is also mingled with the memory of other artists Senga and Savannah, their ideas, methods, and passions. We crossed paths, painted along-side each other, shared poetry and meals. Namely we worked parallel to each other, primarily immersed in our own quiet preoccupations with moments together to eat, share and celebrate each other’s observations.
Plato wrote: “The power of the Good has taken refuge in the nature of the Beautiful”. The Residency LNAF provides is an extraordinary ‘good’. At a time when the world is rife with turbulence and unrest, the residency brings artists together to contemplate, to work and make manifest the beauty that is a constant, if overlooked, joy of our world.
Finally, I wish for all my artist friends what St. John Paul in his letter to artists said so poignantly; “Artists of the world, may your many different paths all lead to that infinite ocean of beauty where wonder becomes awe, exhilaration, unspeakable joy.”
A photo of me wearing my #Coolture headband while painting! Thanks Luanne!
yes I brought a bit of UWW with me...
Next two images are nearly all my studies drying in the sun before I depart the next day:
The riches of this residency are not easy to express, nor will I completely understand the fullness of its impact immediately. But to wake each day with only the language of paint and painting in my mind, allowed me to be immersed in a language that is not spoken, but observed and envisioned.
The light in La Napoule bounces from the cliff-face, to the underbelly of the waves, to the air. It is a crisp light, one that saturates color and lets you see into the distance. The light bounced off my painting too and for that matter off of me. I have realized that in the Midwestern United States shadows are cohesive, nearly flat and grounding. But in La Napoule, forms seem to almost levitate with shadows inflected with reflected light. The air shimmers with color. It is a marvel to observe these unique conditions and as importantly, to understand by way of contrast, the conditions of my home. Like the light, the people presented a contrast as well. People on the streets and in the markets ate peaches, let juice run down their chin, and stole a moment to nuzzle their spouses neck. The children were in harmony, as leaves on a tree are in harmony with the whole tree; jostling and blowing, doing just what they are want to do. Bread delivered daily, just enough. Topless bathers of nearly all ages were not sexualized but sensual and natural: at ease. Now home, I see, as if for the first time, the solidity of shadows, the people taking-in nature, but who are not as seamlessly “natural” and the introspective light, singular and soft, filtered through clouds.
I found myself making a portrait of the light and air of La Napoule; the geography, the architecture and the people. Each day, as the sun rose I was out painting. I noticed the rhythm of the beach and the bathers; first the-early-morning-man and his dog, then the older women visiting; their white hair golden in the morning light, the tri-athletes swimming the buoy lines and finally the young ones and mothers splashing and building on the shores a small city of colorful umbrellas. The slowly elongating reflection of the Chateau, the beach and Sempe were unified but changing on the water. After the morning study I moved to a view of a solitary cliff or distant vista. Then a swim and dinner, and finally in the evening more cliffs, rocks, more water; so blue, green violet and grey, more sky.
The 27 plus paintings I made in the course of 10 days are not just a record or a vignette (although they certainly are just that), they are additionally a relationship with a subject, slowly uncovered through the act of careful observation and mixing of paint.
My memory of the residency is also mingled with the memory of other artists Senga and Savannah, their ideas, methods, and passions. We crossed paths, painted along-side each other, shared poetry and meals. Namely we worked parallel to each other, primarily immersed in our own quiet preoccupations with moments together to eat, share and celebrate each other’s observations.
Plato wrote: “The power of the Good has taken refuge in the nature of the Beautiful”. The Residency LNAF provides is an extraordinary ‘good’. At a time when the world is rife with turbulence and unrest, the residency brings artists together to contemplate, to work and make manifest the beauty that is a constant, if overlooked, joy of our world.
Finally, I wish for all my artist friends what St. John Paul in his letter to artists said so poignantly; “Artists of the world, may your many different paths all lead to that infinite ocean of beauty where wonder becomes awe, exhilaration, unspeakable joy.”
A photo of me wearing my #Coolture headband while painting! Thanks Luanne!
yes I brought a bit of UWW with me...
Next two images are nearly all my studies drying in the sun before I depart the next day:
Maybe someday I will be able to go back!
