An artist painting at the port near our vineyard
TODAY'S FRENCH WORD: clair-obscur
: chiaroscuro
Chiaroscuro in art is the use of strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition. It is also a technical term used by artists and art historians for the use of contrasts of light to achieve a sense of volume in modelling three-dimensional objects and figures. Similar effects in cinema and photography also are called chiaroscuro. -Wikipedia
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ECOUTEZ /LISTEN to Jean-Marc read the following French Download MP3 or Download WAV
Nous sommes chacun de nous notre propre clair-obscur, notre propre morceau d''illusion qui essaie d'emmerger…de devenir quelque chose de solide , quelque chose de réel. We're each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion trying to emerge into something solid, something real.–Libba Bray
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE
Instead of dedicating an entire post to my fear of the telephone, I will tell you what happened when I ventured, recently, to answer The Ringing Boogeyman. A woman whom I had met many months ago, at the physical therapist's, spoke. "Do you know who this is?" she asked.
Strong and énoncé, I recognised the voice.
"C'est L'Artiste!" she confirmed. (No, she didn't say that, but in the interest of privacy, we'll say she did!)
Did I remember her? came the next question. But how could I forget the petite francaise wearing head-to-toe elegance. In dramatic eye-shadow, her hair neatly styled, she told me about her passion for painting, eventually sharing with me a pressing question: just what did her latest art works evoke? What did the viewer feel–what was the spectator's true, unbiased opinion of The Artist's paintings? Would I come over to her studio and tell her what I thought of her work?
Looking back on that day at the physical therapist's, I am struck at how–even at the age of 90, with a lifelong career in art–one still struggled with uncertainty in regards to one's work.
Fast forward now to three weeks ago. The little piece of paper with L'Artist's phone number was finally pushed under my desk calendar. I never found the courage to be her critic.
"I have a favor to ask," the Artist said, over the phone this time. "I have just received a catalogue from a foreign art gallery. The introduction talks about my work. But I cannot understand English. Would you be willing to come over and translate it for me?"
One week later, a great big mutt greeted me at the gate of a secluded home. "Corsa! quit barking!" The Artist scolded. Delighted by the scene unfolding before me, I followed, awe-stricken, past the flowering garden, past the atelier, to the kitchen entrance where a place was set for me at a table that might have been a 19-century still-life. I took my place before an espresso cup and saucer made of pottery, and a dish of marscapones. Looking around, I tried to take it all in, without appearing impolite–this place rich with style and savoir-vivre.
Above the kitchen range, a giant abstract painting in golden tones seemed to cast light across the room, to the table before me where a bowl of oranges drew my regard back to the kitchen door, where Corsa the dog wagged his body, mirroring the excitement inside of me at being in the presence of Inspiration. By now I had visited the atelier across the garden, and seen 6 foot hight paintings stacked twenty deep the entire circumfrance of the workshop. Standing there, I became aware of the artist standing behind me. That is when I remembered the original request: an honest reaction to the artist's work. But instead of reacting, I stood quietly–trying to "really see" the abstract, lively and colorful works before me.
In a disaster of consequences (my delayed reaction), the artist quickly apologized, whisking me out of the atelier, back into the kitchen–never to know my innermost thoughts, thoughts still as abstract as the canvas before me!
Settled down to work, now, at the table, I opened the art catalogue, expecting to breeze through the translation. But line after line I was tongue-tied–completely incapable of finding the French words to convey the abstract English sentences I was reading.
That is when the artist gracefully let me of the hook. "Chiaroscuro?" she repeated, as I tried understand the unfamiliar word. "It is a term we use in art." Waving her hand, The Artist assured me she had gotten the gist of the text, and that I should not trouble myself further. But I was very troubled at having let her down as a critic and as a translator!
Later, mopey at home, the chiaroscuro term returned to me. Looking it up I happened upon the words of Libba Bray–words that would finally, express my emotions as I stood before The Artist's latest works:
We're each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion trying to emerge into something solid, something real.
These words spoke to me. And I finally understand how a 90-year-old artist can still doubt her work, being, herself, ever in the process of emerging.
See the latest photos at my Instagram.
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If we didn’t have our doubts we wouldn’t strive to do better. Perfection is such an overrated word. I sense also that her art is not what you expected from a well coiffed 90 year old.I love to see perception handed a curve. Sourer et avoir une belle journee. Joie
oops….sourire…..
Kristen –
Years ago a friend asked me to read and critique a movie script. I did and it was just horrible. And, I more or less told him so. It ruined our friendship, as you might expect. Clearly, he just wanted me to tell him what he wanted to hear. I wonder whether your artiste wasn’t doing the same thing?
What a great story on several levels!
I enjoyed your references to chiaroscuro and the artist’s sentiments, but I also formed a delicious picture in my mind of her kitchen and the feeling of a 19th century still life. What a joy that she appreciates the aesthetics of setting a beautiful table in a charming surrounding, and that you, as the viewer, were so struck by it. So many people just don’t notice those things!
Thanks for letting us in on a lovely slice of life. ~ Kate
Beautiful, Kristin. Loved this gossamer tale of self-doubt that we all carry and try to obscure from others– while we are so often diaphanous to them, to ourselves we remain as opaque as stone!
Loved the quote you found. As usual, your story resonates with so many of us, and your revelations help each of us along our own journey of self-discovery…
Bravo! Well done.
Kate captures my reaction perfectly. “Sumptuous” was the word that came to mind as I read that wonderful description. The quote is so deeply true, and hearing that an accomplished 90-year-old still doubts her work makes this writer feel a bit less alone.
Oh, and I would love to hear more about your fear of the telephone. As a card-carrying introvert, I hate the damned thing.
As an artist who is constantly in self-doubt about my paintings, I really understand the woman’s wish to have an objective observer give her thoughts on the woman’s painting.
But asking others’ views of one’s work is sort of like the question I have advised my young female friends NEVER to ask their boyfriends, partners, even husbands:
Do you love me? There are some ‘no-nos’ in the art world too.
Kate, Though there to focus on the artwork, I was itching to know more about the artist and her artistic presence. I could not stop thinking about her and her surroundings. And what I would give for one of her paintings!
Ron, what I understood and sensed about this artist is that, no matter public opinion–and despite asking for it this time, she was not painting for critics or artists or spectators, neither for fame or flattery (which she hates). Perhaps the invitation, then, was an invitation to friendship. And good news is: shes invited me back again!
An artist painting at the port near our vineyard”. Is that one of the artiste’s painting? It’s very good.
Jackie
John, Thank you. And maybe it is an introvert thing! But when that phone rings, I freeze like a deer before headlights. Part of my fear is not being able to recognize who is calling (which one of Jean-Marcs friends) and part of it is the immediate answer that phone calls demand. (whereas if someone poses a question via email, there is time to consider…which leads to another fault: indecisiveness!)
Pardon the second comment:
I just read dictionary.com’s “Word of the Day,” and oh, how the quote there from Michael Friedman (from “”Would a Year of Voluntary Public Service Bring Out America’s Best?” in the Huffington Post, March 11, 2015) ties in so nicely with your essay. The word is: “eudemonic” – which meaning isn’t at all as it sounds verbally in English!
“Philosophers have long held that we can distinguish between eudemonic experience, or a striving towards meaning and purpose that underlies human beings’ capacity to engage in complex social and cultural behavior, in contrast to the striving for more heonic or simply pleasurable experience.”
I applaud you for going beyond simply the pleasurable… diving headlong into a complex, though meaningful, experience. Isn’t that how we all grow?
Joie, what surprised me as much as the style, was the size of the paintings. Almost twice as tall as the artist! And I must have liked the paintings, as I have been obsessed with the thought of purchasing one. Only, I have a feeling they are out of my ball park!
Yes!
Hi Jackie, no. It is a picture I took of a stranger.
Thank you, Alisa.. Asked to make a statement about the artwork – as well as translate anothers statement – was like being caught in a net and struggling to get out without damaging the fishermans intricate workmanship.
It seemed like she was comfortable with no review and no translation. A wise woman who perhaps actually was looking for friendship – which we all know you can offer! – and she may impart bits of her wisdom along the way – which may delight you along the way. What a serendipitous meeting! And what a profound thought you left us with. Thanks so much for sharing.
P.S. I know many with fear of the telephone – both ways – calling and answering. The cell phone, with its caller ID, seems to help some.
Lovely story and perfect photos to accompany it. Does the artist have a website we can look at?
What a great story! I also love the photograph you shared at the top of the post. You mentioned in one of your comments above that L’Artiste was looking for your friendship rather than your approval, and it feels like such a wonderful opportunity! I’m always grateful for lessons learned from serendipitous meetings.
As for a fear of the phone, it’s one that I understand very well. I don’t even enjoy answering the phone at work, but I have learned to take a deep breath and keep my expectations open. I also have started giving myself permission to ignore certain calls at certain times, allowing them to go to voicemail in order to listen to the message a few minutes later, without the pressure to reply immediately.
I too love the image of the artist painting near your vineyard, and thought it a painting at first glance. It is exquisite on multiple levels.
Also, what are “marscapones”? I know mascarpone as an Italian cheese similar to -but richer than- cream cheese, and use it when I make tiramisu. Could these be similar to madeleines?
Thank you, Trina. And it is good to know those of us with phone fears are not alone.
No she doesnt.
Elizabeth, I think Ive misnamed what looked like divinity. Do you know what those are? My grandmother used to make this, or she made something that looked like this that she called divinity.
Katia, Thanks for the helpful tip to take a deep breath and keep expectations open.
She L’artiste sounds delightful.
I’m not a fan of the phone either. One day I realized just because it’s ringing and demanding to be picked up I own the phone, I’m in control and I don’t have to pick it up! I bought an answering machine and started letting it pick up the calls, more or less screening the calls, so I was free to take the calls I needed and wanted to take.
It has been quite liberating!
Have a great day! Bonne journee!
I’ve been reading for a long time (but not much commenting), and I think this is your finest post. You have touched on the deep need in all of us for a creative outlet and the need for recognition. Not necessarily the same thing as approval, but rather the desire to mean something to someone.
I LOVE this article. I encourage you to contact L’Artiste to tell her your thoughts about her beautiful home and her paintings. As a Wannabe Artist myself it’s important to know what observers think and feel when they look at our paintings/drawings/writings etc. Even at 90 she’s wondering…..she sounds like a charming woman. I would LOVE to see her work–alas I won’t be traveling for a while. Thank you for your wonderful posting today!
As in life….an artist or any other person has two questions to ask. Am I HONEST?
Meaning.., do I know myself? And secondly, “Do I have CLARITY in what I am doing or making. In this case, “clarity” means at this moment, do I know what I am feeling? You, Kristen, show us in every blog that you have both…even if you are struggling as you write to understand and work through the feeling. THAT makes you an artist of sorts. The artist to whom you refer in this blog may still be wrestling for validation coming from outside herself. If she can answer those two questions, she can perhaps validate her own self and her own art.
Sharon, your comment means so much. I thought to rerun a story, but decided to try and distill yesterdays meeting with a great artist into a post. So much was left out. Good to read that the meaning came through. Thanks.
Thank you, Sally. I did send her a letter the very next morning, telling her how inspiring it was to spend time with her. I may post that letter on Instagram, now that you mention it.
Thank you, Nyla, for these most encouraging words! And those are helpful questions to tape across my keyboard. I think The Artist asks and answers those questions each time she creates.
Hi Kristin , thanks to you and today’s story I would love to see some of L’ Artiste works! I have just moved from Paris to the country and am surrounded by happy cows, galloping bunny rabbits, fields of grain, my marathon napping Black Labrador/Great Dane and sheep. And a mountain of moving cartons. We are in Normandy just a bicycle ride away from Mont St. Michel. At last I have walls and space for large canvas paintings. You’ve made me very curious about her work. Any hope of a studio tour via Instagram ? With her permission, of course!
Oh, I want to dwell in her home, moving from studio to kitchen to garden, and back again. Such a beautiful picture you painted for us. Of course, you and L’Artiste would both be there. This post makes me incredibly curious about her and the life she has led. Every single one of us have self doubts at one time or another, sometimes more frequently than at other times. I think that can get magnified with anything that we have created. I applaud you sharing yourself in your writings. It’s a very brave endeavor you do – and we all benefit from it greatly! I hope you will be able to share your next visit with L’Artiste. BTW, I, too, thought the first photo was a painting – you captured the softness of what I always thought was chiaroscuro in paintings. Beautiful!
That first photo is breathtakingly beautiful. I’ve always loved the way the word “chiaroscuro” rolls on the tongue, and now I love the quote you found about this concept too.
Kristin:
Lovely post with photos to match. The one of the painter in the landscape looks like a painting and reminds me of a little painting by Dali that he did of himself in his studio as young man. This was before he developed his surrealist style and it was more impressionistic with that light and dark pattern,chiaroscuro.It’s in the Dali Museum in Florida.
Joyeux Noel!
Edie from Savannah
A wonderful story! Thank you, Kristin! You have touched the very essence of life – to be living in doubts, in illusion, or having been able to overcome those and unveil the inner magic of your personal Self and melt with the Divine, where there is no doubts nor tribulations — just Bliss, Wisdom and Knowing.
For ages people called that Enlightenment. (Nirvana, moksha, kenso and many other words in different cultures and languages describing this Process.)
After that, there is NO doubt.
This is what Mooji talks about in his video. (He is a modern enlightened teacher, giving lectures internationally and showing the Way to enlightenment to all who wish to understand and to be transformed.)
Follow the Light Inside Yourself – YouTube
youtube by Moojiji
I collect such videos or alike articles onto my Pinterest board:
https://www.pinterest.com/i2nAll/moksha-enlightened-that-life/
KRISTIN, SINCE I AM 83, IT GIVES ME HOPE, THAT A 90 YEAR OLD HAS DOUBTS ABOUT HER “TALENT”. I HAVE STUMBLED THROUGH LIFE AND HAD A HELL OF A GOOD TIME, BUT I STILL HAVEN’T FOUND MY TALENT, OR WHAT I AM SUPPOSE TO DO? I LOVE EVERY WORD YOU WRITE, I FEEL WITH YOU, THROUGH THE GOOD AND BAD. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO A WONDERFUL WOMAN, GOD BLESS YOU ALL, THE HANDSOME HUSBAND AND GORGEOUS CHILDREN, YOU ARE VERY LUCKY ,,,,, AND TALENTED. JOY WOOD
Interesting you should say that, because the size was the first thing that popped into my head with her being so petite. I have 100 year old oils that are worthy of most museums done by family members, but I also like a lot of contemporary art and have some of that hanging in my tiny house. So, I would call her up, ask to go see them again and ask what she wants. With so many, you might be able to strike a deal. No harm in asking, and she would know how much you really did like them. Maybe you can find out more about her on-line, maybe not, but call her. I know it involves a telephone and I hate them too, except they do serve a purpose and really are far more personal than e-mails.
hugs…..
yes!
Oh this is so true about many things…one is never offer to teach a significant other a sport…no-no.
Our dear Kristi,
This beautiful post is nothing short of an inspiration for us that you have opened our eyes to see:a combination of both kindness and honesty,towards others and equally important,towards ourselves.
THANK YOU!!
You have an incredible gift and we are blessed to have you in our lives!
I also must tell Joy Wood how much I enjoyed her comment about stumbling through life and having a hell of a good time!
I’ve done my fair share of stumbling,but I truly prefer to think of it as being led,even though there have been more than plenty of NOT so good times in addition to the good ones.
At this point,I like describing it as more days behind than ahead so let’s make each one from God count.(!)
Love
Natalia XO
Kristi…The best post ever. The comments have been spot on…even about telephones.
Happy Holidays to you and Jean Marc
Kristi, The Artist sounds like a fascinating woman. Seems to me she would be a great subject for a book.
Kristi,
The cookies are probably meringues, primarily egg whites and sugar, beat until stiff, sometimes with an ingredient such as nuts or chocolate chips folded in. That special ingredient tends to sink to the middle, giving this version the name “Surprise Meringues.” Google will bring you up recipes.
The bowl of oranges calls to my mind Judy Collins singing “Chelsea Morning” with “Milk and toast and honey, and a bowl of oranges too.” One of my favorite evocations of enjoying the moment. https://search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?p=judy+collins+chelsea+morning&ei=UTF-8&hspart=mozilla&hsimp=yhs-004
Wishing you that kind of contentment, even as you and L’Artiste each strive to develop further in your fields.
I heartedly agree with every word of thanks and appreciation above. What a gorgeous anecdote, Kristi! Happy to think we may be blessed with more of your words about this new copain, L’Artiste!
Another phone-phobic person here, all my life long. I do believe it IS common among introverts, partly because we really do listen well, and we welcome the sight of the speaker’s face and body language to help us to tune in deeply. Thank goodness for email, tho’ my few friends who rarely use digital media or anything actually written, for that matter, wish I weren’t so un-phone-ish!
Wishing you a wondrous second visit to L’Artiste, she who does not realize that she now has a worldwide fanbase through your beautiful writing.
Beautiful story which got me to thinking are not we all ever in the process…as Joy Wood commented stumbling through life…? The twists and turns in our path lead to memories and experiences which become part of the beauty of each of us. I’m enchanted and inspired by your new friend. You encounter the most interesting individuals and share the stories with such compassion and wit.
P.S. Ditto about the phone phobia; I’m learning it’s okay to allow the answering machine to pick up and return the call when I can.
I encountered one of the most interesting, most endearing individuals in the same way: by chance. In Bellevue, WA. In 86. In you!
Thank you, Kitty. I am nervous as to what The Artiste would think. Like seeing a painting of oneself (and she has one, by a famous artist!) is so very hard to read about ourselves. Even if the writer believes she has done her best to record all positive assets, it only takes one adjective to mess up a portrait.
Meringues! That is the word I was searching for! Thanks, Mara! Off to look at the Judy Collins link. Merci.
Thanks, Joie. Good idea!!