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.

Eye Rinse

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On Sunday October 21st, Terry was doing her laundry, trying to remove a stain from a white garment. She was using some bleach and she dropped the jug on the washing machine. The bleach splashed up in her face and some went in her eye. She rinsed her eye under the sink faucet and then started reading  medical internet sites to be sure she was alright. The site said that you should always go to a doctor if you get bleach in your eyes to be sure there isn’t any permanent damage to the membranes. She asked me to look at her eye to see if it was blood shot and it was.

I drove her to a Centra Care Florida Hospital Urgent Care a mile or so from her home. A sign above the receptionist desk read something like, “We continue Christ’s tradition of healing ministry.” Terry said there was a similar sign blessing her from above the toilet. Apparently chemical spills like this take top priority in triage so we went right in after filling out some paper work. Thankfully the place was fairly quiet. Terry sat on the examining table and a male nurse took her blood pressure and asked her a few questions. She was asked to put a hand over each eye and read an eye chart. I’m not sure how she did on that test.

The doctor gave her eye drops which numbed the nerves in the eye. He then put a little red dye in her eye and inspected her eye with a magnifying glass and black light to look for abrasions or damage. He then advised that she have an eye rinse. A saline bag was hung above her head as she lay on the table. A white plastic contact lens was fitted with a clear plastic tube. Terry wears contact lenses sometimes so she was brave as the doctor put the device in her eye. I don’t think I could have done that.

She had to lie there for about 20 minutes or as long as she could stand the procedure. The saline solution ran from her eye an then down her face soaking the pillow. It was a forced one eyed cry. Most people get very uncomfortable and call out to stop the procedure. Terry went for ten to fifteen minutes before she stopped. A fifteen minute rinse is what the internet site advised so she felt it was enough.

Finally, she was given an ointment which she was to squeeze out onto her lower lid. She would have to use the ointment three times a day for seven days. After this we went to see the movie Argo. I loved how Alan Arkins character would say, “Argo f*ck yourself” when he spoke about the movie. It was a very suspenseful film and really well made. We both gave it a 9 out of 10. That night, I watched The Walking Dead on AMC. Zombies died when  crowbars, machetes and re-bar were shoved into their skulls through their eye sockets. This happened again and again as zombies were slaughtered. Terry refused to watch.

Mystery Sketch Theater

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Every month at A Comic Shop on 436 near University
Boulevard, there is a sketch session called Mystery Sketch Theater. The models are usually dressed as super
heroes or Henai characters. Quite honestly I seldom know who the model is
portraying. It is a great chance to loosen up and it is a luxury to have a
model pose for 5, 10 and sometimes 20 minutes at a time.  I keep a small sketch journal for these quick
academic poses, but I can’t resist drawing the artists around me. About ten to
twenty artists gather each month. There always seems to be just enough artists
to fill the available art desks.

Towards the end of the evening the organizers ask the
artists to shout out a strange character or theme for the drawing. All the
drawings from that pose are then put on the model stand and the model picks her
favorite sketch. That artist then wins a prize which is usually a book about
comics or movies. I seldom win this fantasy sketch round since I’m usually
still working on my one overall sketch. I did win once, and I recall getting a
plastic cup with blinking lights in the base.

Grand Palais Paris

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The twelve hours of flying over the Atlantic was tough. I didn’t manage to get any sleep while Terry slept the whole way. Walking the streets of Paris for the first time made it all worth while however. It was fashion week in Paris which meant that every supermodel in the world was there to strut the runways. We were on the lookout for famous people as we walked down Avenue Des Champs Elysees away from Arc De Triomphe. The Grand Palais is where I stopped to do my first sketch. Terry explored inside the Petit Palais behind me while I worked. She said the interiors were magnificent. It was late in the day towards disk and it was uniformly cloudy.

I assumed all the trucks parked in front of the Palais were there to set up for a fashion show, but it turned out that one art exhibit was being removed while a huge Edward Hopper exhibit was being installed in the Galeries Nationales. There were police everywhere. Hopper is one of my favorite painters and unfortunately I was here a week to soon. Paris never runs short of amazing history and lavish architecture to draw from. Terry went to Les Editeurs Cafe for an amazing meal that first night. We sat outside and enjoyed the three course pris fix meal. The waitress helped me pick out a wonderful sweet white wine to compliment my meal.

Musee de Cluny

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Walking around our hotel in the Latin Quarter of Paris, Terry noticed a poster for a Medieval concert. Terry loves Medieval music having sung with a Medieval chorus when she lived in New York City. The next day we returned to go to the Musee de Cluny for the concert. The concert took place in the Notre Dame Room which was filled with sculptures from the cathedral’s various stages of construction. 21 monumental heads originated from the gallery of the Kings of Juda (circa 1220-1230). They were buried during the French Revolution and discovered by chance in 1977.

The Musee de Cluny  is housed in two Paris monuments. The Northern Thermal Baths of Luteria, the only Gallo-Roman monument surviving in Paris, were probably built in the late 1st century and were active for about two centuries. The complex consisted of cold, tepid and hot rooms devoted to baths, physical exercise and underground rooms for administration, laundry and wood storage. The baths can be seen today from the street from behind black iron gates. They are an quiet open ruin with the hectic city life bustling around them. The one elevated room, the frididarium (cold room) was recently restored. The Hotel de Cluny was built on the site in the 15th century replacing the Parisian residence of the Cluny abbots that existed on the site since the 13th century. The museum today houses art from as early as the Roman Empire (51-58BC), the Middle Ages, Romanesque and Gothic Eras. Most of the sculptures, paintings and stained glass are religious in theme. The most stunning room is filled with the The Lady and the Unicorn tapestry set. These tapestries were lovingly restored and they cover every wall acting as huge cinematic storyboards.

The musicians spoke in French more than they played. I’m sure it was enlightening banter, but I didn’t understand a word. When they did play, the music filled the ancient room transporting the audience back in time. There was another artist sketching in the audience. I suspected he was local, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. I was in a city where sketching is the norm.