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The Birth (And Death)of Impressionism – Part One

Reproduction de La Promenade de Claude Monet – Galerie Mont-Blanc

 

Early in the 1860s a few young artists began to paint modern life as they saw .They had quietly rejected the idea that art was to tell stories of religious mythology or history. They were not interested in the past.

Contrary to popular belief, Impressionism is not a style but an attitude toward the relationship between life and art that believed it should express what people care about in their daily lives.
The first impressionists were Claude Monet, Aguste Renoir Camille Pissarro and Edgar Dega. This small group of artists dared to throw off the shackles of the past creating art that was ahead of its time.

It all began early in 1873 when Claude Monet invited several of his painter friends to a meeting at his home. Money had decided it was time to find an alternative to the old system where French artists lived at the mercy of the salon jury for success at the salon ,the state-run art exhibition.

At that meeting, the painters planned a group show that would be independent of the salon. To maker their independent exhibition dream a reality,the group desperately needed money.
They began by collecting duess and looked to expand their membership.Next invited to join the group was it’s first female member ,Berthe Morriset. She would later be joined by another Female aritist, the first and only American in the group, Mary Cassatt.

Black-and-white photograph of a seated older woman with light skin. She wears a dark dress with a fur stole and long necklace. Her dark hat is adorned with a group of large, wispy feathers and covers her hair. Her expression is open and calm.

 

Edouard Manet, the leading avant-garde painter of the day had declined to join. He was determined to make his name at the salon idependently.
Camille pissarro was busy helping to organize the show when he got word that his nine-year-old daughter Manette was ill with a respiratory infection. The family doctor could do little and the infection grew worse. Manette died on April 6 1874.

Pissarro rejoined his friends in making final preparations for the show. They found a space for the exhibition in one of the poshest sections of town on the boulevard de kappa. Monet who happily had a good marketing instinct ,painted the view from the window.This would enable visitors to the exhibitioin to compare Monet’s painting with the actual scene of modern life below.

In contrast to the classic salon presentation, where you saw all the paintings at once,you only saw the impressionist works one at a time.
The exhibition opened on April 15th 1874 and immediately captured the attention of the art critics in fact it seemed that every art critic in Paris had something negative to say about the impressionist’s work.

One example: “what we see in the work of this school is a revolting insult to the taste and intelligence of the public.”
The painting that became the cause celeb of that exhibition was “Morning Sunrise” by Monet and the word Impressionism comes from the title of that painting When a critic said: “These are nothing but impressions.” Meaning weren’t finished works.

So it was that the group of impressionist painters had moved from anonymity to noteriety in a matter of weeks. But not selling enough to even cover their expenses, they were so disappointed that it be two years before they would exhibit again .

End of Part One.

Christopher Strong Bicycle Gourmet – Born at the Right Time – Part Four

 

Christopher Strong Bicycle Gourmet – Born at the Right Time – Part Four…

 

brings us to the inevitable conclusion of my French-Mexican adventure. Checking out Parts One, Two and/or Three may help you connect the dots more easily.

After two plus weeks of Ten hour “Mr. Fix-It-Up” days Paul returned to France for Christmas. DA BG had agreed(with no arms twisted) to stay on until the end of January to provide a “security presence.” (my greatest unhearlded talent.)

With Paul gone my routine remained basically the same. With one exception: Wine Rationing! I had only three bottles of White to last seven weeks! Which meant less than a quarter (tiny)verre per meal. And(shock horror) only once per day. This, dear reader was wine appreciations most challenging  hour. Why didn’t I just buy more from our tiny village “supermercado?” One word: “Undrinkable!”

Like all good things, my mission of “Mexican assistance” came too soon to an end. Again I was on the same bus. This time in the opposite direction. And this time – no Ramon . Wait – it gets worse. Yes, dear reader, this driver/DJ was into hard core Country Music. “Big eight wheeler rollin’ down the track means your lovin’ daddy ain’t comin’ back – I’m movin’ on” (sung with a closepeg on your nose for maximum fidelity)

After two weeks back in the land of drinkable wine(almost) everywhere, no “bon mots” from Paul or Denis. I was just about to phone when Denis appeared at my door. With a shoe box.
I sensed correctly from his uncharacteristically somber mood that a shoe-based joke would not be appropriate.

After a long pause Denis murmured softly: “It’s Paul……last night…..” He didn’t finish the sentence. Nor did he need to. “How” I asked. “In his sleep” Denis replied.

No further words were needed. As we each silently savored our connections to this treasure of a man.

Finally, Denis offered me the box. “He left this for you.” You know what was in the box, dear reader. Do you not? Inside the glass was this note. In Paul’s elegant calligraphic hand : “Whenever you drink from this I hope you’ll remember your time in Mexico with an old pal.” And I do, dear reader. I do.

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Christopher Stong Bicycle Gourmet – Born at the Right Time – Part Three

Christopher Stong Bicycle Gourmet – Born at the Right Time – Part Three

Part Three brings us futher along the road of this saga. PARTS ONE and TWO may add to your understanding/enjoyment/desire to nominate me for the pulitzer.

Like Klimt inVienna, Paul was “born at the right time.” My take anyway – considering when I was born. But then isn’t every fascinating period of History we never lived through “the right time?” Especially when we know someone who did? (tee-shirt idea – “NOW is the right time!)

Paul knew(and turned down an offer to work with) the legendaryFrank Llyod Wright. Ditto Paola Solari the “visionary” who created (the World’s first?) “eco city” in the Arizona desert. However Paul did advise him. For free.

Peyote with the Indians? Commissions from Heads of State Worldwide? Rafting the Amazon? Designing affordable inner-city housing? Rapping with Kerouac? Been there. Done that. Got the tee-shirt.

The best sunsets at Chez Paul arrived courtesty of L.A. smog.(Probably the only benefit, n’est ce pas?) For whatever meterological reason the noxious gases that regularly caused L.A. schools to close – opened our eyes wider with a cavalcade of irridescent colors.This was our “apero entertainment” as we caught the last rays of the day.

With his mirror shades and full head of steely gray hair, Paul was every inch the Hollywood prototype of Worldly “tough guy.” Add the wirey frame and working man’s jeans, and it wasn’t hard to imagine this is how James Dean might have aged.

Paul didn’t say much during our “patio sunsets”. But, to paraphrase Spencer Tracy’s description of Katherine Hepburn, what he did say was “cherc.” Particularly about his first wife, Ravi. Clearly the great love of his life. A native of the Ivory Coast, she met Paul during his time there helping to create housing for the locals. As her’s was one of the families Paul had helped, she wanted to give him a thank you gift.But no cash in the cupboard.

So Ravi presented him with a family heirloom. Small. Fragile. With a unique understated beauty any artists would appreciate. A glass. A (soon to be) Whiskey glass. The one Paul now cradled fondly as he silently tracked it’s History. Bathed in sunset’s last gleaming.

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