Basilique du Sacre Coeur

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Terry and I took the Metro to the Paris hillside neighborhood of Montmartre. This area has been known to be a sanctuary for artists through the years. When we walked up the staircase of the metro we were surprised to find ourselves in a seedier part of Paris. A Policeman on a bicycle saw us trying to get our bearings and he directed us to a staircase that climbed up the hill. He warned us about pickpockets and sent us on our way.

The staircase went up forever. Several tourists were lugging their luggage up to try and find a bed and breakfast entrance half way up. They were still searching as we passed them. We were completely winded when we got to the top, but this was our view of the Basilique du Sacre Coeur once we reached the top. Terry wanted to explore the inside of the Cathedral so I walked her up the last set of steps to the entrance and then I returned to this spot to sketch. A woman sat half wan up the steps begging for change. Another woman sat at the entrance to the cathedral begging. She looked just like the woman I saw begging at another church and I wondered if she was following us.

The spot where I sat was surprisingly peaceful. About 100 yards to my left, street performers, and musicians were doing their acts for a large crowd of tourists. Terry was annoyed that the musicians didn’t have much talent. It was a zoo. From right in front of the cathedral we had a view over all of Paris. Wandering the side streets we found a boat load of artists selling their pallet knife paintings of Paris. We found the art studio where Pablo Picasso first started painting his cubist paintings. Then we relaxed in a cafe as it started to rain.

Toyota Dealership

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My Toyota Prius has the annoying habit of reminding me when the car is due for maintenance. The dashboard throws up a message that says “Maintenance Required”, blocking the fuel efficiency gauges I’m used to seeing daily. This could be something very serious. Like the boy who cried wolf, I may in time become immune to these warnings. Since it happened at the 5,000 mile mark, and because maintenance is free for the first 25,000 miles, I made an appointment at the dealership. I had to wait outside for about half an hour for a service manager to become available. Once the paperwork was done, I was assured that the service would be a top priority rush. He threw in a complimentary car wash to make up for my wait outside.

The waiting area had a flat screen TV, couches, tables and even a cafe.  This is a brand new Toyota Dealership and no expense was spared. I started to sketch the Toyota Camry parked in the dealership lobby. Sales agents all had on red polo shirts. I sketched quickly. Before I was done, my service manager let me know that my car was ready. That was fast!

Sunday in the Park With Voci

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Genevieve Bernard, the founder of Voci Dance, gave me a heads up about a croquet game the Voci dancers were going to play on Sunday October 28th as part of the Creative City project. The Creative City Project had free clandestine performances staged at public places throughout the city on every day of October. The croquet game was held on the green beside the Red Japanese Pagoda in Lake Eola. When I arrived, the players, or dancers, were promenading around the court arm in arm in pairs. Each dancer was had on a primary colored dress that matched their ball color. Blue Doug Rhodehamel paper bag mushrooms marked the outer edges of the court. There were orange lines painted on the grass, probably left over from a football practice.

The Park was rather crowded on this Sunday. There were food trucks and tents set up at the band shell for an event I didn’t get a chance to make out. There was also a stage set up on Orange Avenue for a concert I wasn’t aware of. A large group was picnicking next to the croquet court and they were curious once the game started. A mom and her son sat in front of me to watch the game as well. The dancers circled up when music began to play and they gracefully began to play. I was sitting under the shade of a large oak tree while most of the audience sat on blankets on the opposite side of the court. It actually started to get chilly and I wished I had a sweater to cover my Dog Powered Robot T-shirt.

The performance seemed to be over in a matter of minutes as I struggled to catch each dancers proportions and gesture. More of a dance than a competition, Genevieve informed me that everyone won. Some audience members took to the court after the game was over trying out the mallets for themselves..

Gloria Steinem

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Gloria Steinem gave a talk at Urban ReThink on October 19th at three in the afternoon. Gloria is a well known and respected feminist who founded MS Magazine. I arrived an hour early to be sure I got a good vantage point to sketch from. Police were on hand to make sure that Urban ReThink didn’t exceed the maximum allowance for attendees. As people settled into their chairs, I sketched.

Gloria’s talk mostly centered on encouraging people to vote. She said that the Richard Nixon presidential champagne was the first to discourage voters by portraying the government as corrupt. The fewer people voted, the better chance he had of winning. Gloria heard stories from people who had trouble getting to polling station,. Buses ran late and police cars blocked access to some poling stations. This tended to happen in under privileged neighborhoods. She highlighted Romney’s positions when it came to women’s health. She then outlined how women’s health issues had been controlled throughout history. The American Indian women knew about contraception using herbs and careful lunar timing to only conceive a child when the season was right. When the settlers arrived, the Indians referred to the European women as “those who die in child birth.” Today she feels that poor women are supposed to get pregnant as often as possible to supply young soldiers for the army.

Gloria pointed out the importance of gathering together to discuss common causes. Although we are supposed to be more interconnected than ever thanks to social media like Facebook and Twitter, you get more out of groups coming together. In the question and answer session a young man got choked up as he spoke passionately about a cause he believed in. Gloria pointed out that everyone in the room felt that passion, not just from his words but from every aspect of his presence. There is an electricity that comes from community gatherings like this. She encouraged everyone to mingle after her talk. You might meet a friend or find someone passionate about the same cause. Anything is possible and a single voice can make a difference. Vote.

The Pantheon

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For much of our time in Paris, we stayed at the Hotel Pantheon which aptly is right across the street from the Pantheon. Most every hotel in Paris was booked up so, later in the week we had to change hotels. We must have been spoiled by our spacious room at Hotel Pantheon. The second hotel we stayed at was modern but small. The bathroom was so small that I needed to open the door in order to lean over and brush my teeth using the dentist size sink.

Being near the Pantheon meant it was a little easier to navigate our way back in the evening. The dome was illuminated and could be seen from many blocks away. One evening as we stood in Place du Pantheon, we looked west and could see the Eiffel Tower illuminated far off in the distance. It began to sparkle with thousands of lights flashing. Terry struggled to find her camera and just as she was ready to shoot, the sparkling stopped. Apparently this light show only happens for a few minutes every hour.

 The Pantheon (from Greek Pantheon, meaning “Every god”) was originally built as a church
dedicated to St. Genevieve, but after many changes now functions as a
secular mausoleum containing the remains of distinguished French
citizens. It is an early example of neoclassicism, with a facade modeled
on the Pantheon in Rome.

The neighborhood around the Pantheon is bustling with young college students going and coming from classed. I saw a sign that pointed towards an animation academy, so we might have been near Gobelins which is probably the best animation school in the world.  The Paris government helps subsidize Gobelins which guarantees the city’s prominence in producing talented animators.

Church of Saint Paul – Saint Louis

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Terry was using a Foders map to navigate various walking routes through the city. The map of Paris never seemed to show the name of the street we were on. I was almost bowled over by a baby carriage and an elderly lady as I searched for my bearings. We were walking on Rue Saint Antoine when we happened across this church which I recognized from Ronald Searle‘s sketch from 60 plus years before. I pulled his Paris Sketchbook out of my art supply bag and I searched for the exact spot he had sketched from. It was exciting when every line and angle matched up. In his day this was a working class neighborhood with vendors pushcarts and shops. Today the neighborhood has been gentrified with upper class fashion and jewelry shops along with some smaller bodegas.

As I sketched, an elderly man in ragged clothes and a boy stood in front of me speaking in French. I didn’t understand a word, so I shrugged my shoulders and kept sketching.  They persisted and the man pointed at the pens clipped in my bag. I decided to give him one of the dried up pens and satisfied, they walked away. If I knew some French I could have asked them to pose. Like everyone else, they seemed in a hurry. It was threatening to rain and there was a light drizzle, but not enough to stop me. Victor Hugo had his first child christened in this church. Everywhere we went, we seemed to be walking in Victor Hugo’s footsteps.

Daumier Studio

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Ile Saint Louis, a small island in the Seine River, is the geographic and historical heart of Paris. To help in my exploration of Paris, I consulted a Paris Sketchbook, illustrated by Ronald Searle and written by his wife Kaye Webb. My Paris map had a series of stickers marking the spots where Searle had sketched. This quiet Parisian street, Ouai d’Anjou was my first stop. The green door, number 9, was once the entry to the home and studio of one of my favorite artists, Honore Daumier. A small plaque next to the entry commemorated the spot. His loose spontaneous sketches of politicians and Parisian life are stunning, satirical and still relevant today.  At the Musee d’Orsay, I had seen some wonderful sculptures Daumier did of politicians busts.  They were exaggerated and lively. Of all the art I saw in Paris, I believe those busts were my favorite. I sat very close to where Ronald must have sat when he did his sketch. He didn’t sketch any cars which made his sketch rather timeless so I also ignored the automotive clutter. Ronald had added architectural details like extra chimneys to his sketch and I began to understand what he found appealing and lively in the scene. Over 60 years had passed, but I was learning from a master.

School children hurried home along the cobbled walkway. An elderly man was out for his afternoon stroll. While the rest of Paris rushed and hurried, this little island seemed serine, except for the tourists looking for Notre Dame. Life ebbed and flowed along with the river current, much as it had hundreds of years ago.  Terry had wandered off to explore the rest of the island and to walk among all the shops. She got a little lost trying to find her way back to this spot. I was so lost in the sketch and the moment that I didn’t notice the time fly by. We went to a bustling cafe and then continued to explore.

Jazz on the Green

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Bank of America was the host for Jazz on the Green held on Saturday October 20th at the UCF College of Medicine (6850 Lake Nona Boulevard). Terry had VIP passes since Merrill Lynch had paid for a corporate table. VIP parking wasn’t much different than regular parking since the event didn’t seem to be very crowded. Food trucks and their loud generators crowded much of the lot. Corporate tables were arranged on either side of the stage. The Merrill Lynch table was empty. There was no shade and it was hot, so Terry and I abandoned the table and sat in our lawn chairs in the shade cast by the stage. We had to move several times as we lost shade.

We were offered a free bottle of wine and a large cheese and fruit platter. Each table got one of these platters and since we were the only ones at our table, there was too much to eat. The Lake Nona Middle School Jazz Ensemble was performing on the Travistock Green when we arrived. It was hard to listen to all the missed notes. The audience, baking in the sun on blankets, loved them however. They all must have been parents of the kids in the band. Next up, on stage, was Jeff Bradshaw and his band. Their jazz had a subtle taste of Cajun Zydeco. During one number, the folks at the table next to us started dancing as they waved their napkins above their heads. Jeff came off the stage and marched up to the table still playing his saxophone. He lead them in a Cajun march through the audience and more people joined the line. Terry got up and joined in. Last to perform was Ken Navarro. He played gentle, smooth jazz as the darkness rolled in. Ken is the act I managed to catch in my sketch. It was a relaxing way to spend a Saturday afternoon. All the money raised from the event benefited the Lake Nona YMCA and the UCF College of Medicine Scholarship programs.

Road To Mecca

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After returning from France, I quickly tried to arrange to sketch a rehearsal of Road to Mecca. That night was a final dress rehearsal and performance preview of the show. Unfortunately I was already scheduled to sketch a fundraiser that night. The director, Aradhana Tiwari, suggested I get there early to sketch last minute touches being done to the set in the new Mad Cow Theater (54 West Church Street, second floor)

When I got to the theater, I met Lisa Buck, the set designer. She explained that the lights that had been ordered for the new black box theater hadn’t arrived yet. A company had agreed to lend the Mad Cow their lights.  There was a last minute rush to get these lights hung and aimed properly. A stage hand would climb a ladder and then shout out to the person in the lighting booth to get the light turned on. Lisa briefly explained to me that the show was about an elderly English South African woman who sculpted owls and filled her home with candles and bottles. Her home had a quirky folk artists feel. Lisa told me that when the set was properly lit, it would sparkle magically. All the candles would be lit and the light would reflect off of all the bottles. Bottles hung from the ceiling forming a dense chandelier. Lisa knew that a neighbor had an old weathered door in his back yard. She borrowed it to use as the headboard to the bed. Characters in the play tried to convince the old woman to leave the home and go into assisted living because she was living outside their idea of the norm.

Aradhana arrived when I was half finished with my sketch. She quickly started working on the music and lighting cues for the show. There were only a few hours left before an audience would enter the theaters. One scene which had already been worked out was much brighter than Aradhana remembered. A stage hand was cutting gels for the lights and those gels would change the color and intensity of the lights.  They had to go on faith that everything would be in place on time. I finished my sketch as the frantic work continued.

The show runs through November 11th. Get your tickets now.

Paris Pickpockets

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Walking along the Seine River in Paris, a woman leaned down
in front of Terry and she picked up a big gold wedding ring. She offered it to
me, not knowing what to do with it. We had been warned about pickpockets so I
kept my hand in my pocket on my wallet. I checked for an engraving and handed
it back.  I told her she was a lucky
lady. A half hour later a man pulled the same stunt. I watched him lean down
with the ring in his hand which he pretended to pick up. He moved with slow
deliberateness and he could have won an Oscar for his performance of concern.
This time we moved away quickly.  I was
curious to find out the next step in the ruse. I think the idea was to get in a
heated discussion about the ring and then a second person would approach from
behind to pick the rubes pocket. Terry figured the stunt was an attempt to get
people to offer money for the ring. The ring looked like gold to me however. We
joked about walking along the Seine again to collect more rings.

The Metros in Paris are clean and run like clockwork.
Pressing into a crowded car, I again had my hand in my pocket covering the
wallet. My art supply bag was on my chest and the artist stool acted as a nice
lock to keep hands off my paints and sketch pad. Some guy dropped his keys as
he was supposed to be getting out. I ignored the keys stepping around him. He
grabbed the inside of my calf firmly but as I moved around a central support pole,
 the back of his arm got pushed up
against the pole and his arm might have broken if he didn’t let go. I figure
there must have been someone behind me as that guy’s keys distracted me. Luckily
my back pockets were empty. Then again the guy might have just wanted to check
out my calves. For the rest of my time in Paris, if I saw someone drop
anything, I felt the urge to push them over.