Summer in the Country: Art is Coming to Life in Brittany

A big week here in Brittany. I am in two art shows, one in Callac and one in Huelgoat.

We artists gathered in Callac this morning to be interviewed by the local press. Woo hoo! Big time stuff. Local papers are still important in these parts. Each little town has an allocated page and we, of course, were top of the page.

It’s also market day in Callac. In the high summer this translates into more local market gardeners selling seasonal produce and lots more people turning up. Even though travel is restricted European tourists having been appearing. The market-goers were happy bustling around, chatting with pals, having their first apero of the day at one of the cafes. It was a jolly and lively scene this morning.

All the Callac paintings are watercolors. Wee are in the gallery at the tourist office.

On the edge of the market square is the tourist office/Maison de l’Epagneule (House of the Spaniel!). This is where our art show is taking place. Our commune is famous for Breton spaniels – long-legged shaggy beasts who are theoretically used for hunting. A friend of ours raises spaniels but he is very picky about who he sells them to. Often times the buyers get turned down because they are not deemed up to scratch. He really loves those dogs.

Many of the local hunters belong to organized hunting clubs who hold shooting competitions and boozy lunches during the season. Some of the members just turn up just for the lunches to get drunk, but others go out afterwards to slaughter the local boars and deer. Not a great time to go for a walk.

Anyway, part of the tourist office is dedicated to The Spaniel, with videos, photos, and historical information. The other part is a public gallery. It’s not very big but it has great lighting and the staff are helpful and friendly. They organized our little press junket. I was worried that we’d have to take the photographs with our masks on but thankfully the photographer was not that particular.

This is not the case for the French government. I don’t know if you heard, but this week Monsieur Macron is debating mandatory vaccines or proof of a recent test in public settings. Probably the safest thing to do but I don’t think the French are buying it. French society is a weird combination of requiring identity papers at all times and really resenting it.

Huelgoat paintings are oils. The show is hung in the building behind the church in the main square. The green wall looks good!

The other show I’m in is in Huelgoat, a larger town with a bit more going on in terms of cafes and forest walks. More visitors pass through Huelgoat so I’m hoping some will stop in at our gallery. The walls are painted a fierce pthalo green which concerned me, but in fact the paintings looked great with that background. Space was limited so the work is little squished together. Otherwise it looks pretty good.

In Huelgoat I’m showing larger oils. In Callac I’m showing watercolors.

In both of these exhibits I am showing places and situations that I love. When you look at these paintings you are out on the street, sitting in a cafe, talking with friends, looking at a beautiful view. I realize that both of these shows are depicting a kind of anti-lockdown. For me, interacting with these people and places and celebrating them is what life is about. The lockdown has simply amplified this feeling.

My next goal is to paint an outdoor music concert, packed with people! Let’s see what Monsieur Macron has to say about that.

Plein Aire Bliss & Unexpected Treats

Here in Brittany there is an organization called Couleurs de Bretagne. During the warmer months they organize painting competitions in towns around the area. Artists descend on the chosen village and literally paint the town. We compete to be part of the big show at the end of the season. It’s free to the artists and very friendly and dedicated volunteers run the show.

I have participated over the years but these days I tend to go along with my friends for an arty day out in a beautiful town but not bother with the competing part. It can be a wonderful experience although the Breton weather is not predictable. Pouring rain is not unusual.

Last weekend we went to Pontrieux, a beautiful town on the water, with a cobbled center and traditional french, grand houses lining the riverway. My friend Ann found this spot along the river which managed to encompass some of my favorite things: lush foliage, lovely architecture, reflecting water, boats, and of course old stone houses.

In typical Brittany style the morning started out damp, gray and chilly with an uncomfortable cold breeze. As the day progressed the sun burst out in spectacular fashion and made our plein aire crouching much more pleasant. I was inordinately pleased with my painting. Perhaps the sunshine and lack of stress from not participating in the competition made it all more relaxed.

There was also a scantily clad young man going through his weekend warm ups off to the side. A useful distraction for those inevitable moments of frustration.

The afternoon finished off when a classic car club turned up unexpectedly and gave us a splendid parade of old Jaguars, Harleys, and Daimlers. The oddest things turn up here.

Avoiding Bullfights & Friendly Ghosts

A first visit to Pamplona in Spain. Pamplona is famous for the Festival of San Fermin and The Running of the Bulls, where bulls chase young men through the streets before they are taken off to the bull ring to be slaughtered in bull fights. For me this is a horrible business, torturing animals to death as entertainment. But while they have a huge bull ring built in the 1920s where enthusiasts attend throughout the year, and the Festival happens in the summer when we definitely did not visit, Pamplona is a beautiful small city nestled in the hills below the Pyrennes mountains. In the old quarter the tiny medieval streets wind around the central square. There are balconies with iron railings on each floor of the skinny apartment buildings, all jammed together higgledy-piggledy. It’s not Paris where the grand Haussmann buildings all conform to a series of preset styles. In Pamplona each building is different, with a unique architecture and sometimes vibrant colors.

We visited the Cafe Iruña where Hemingway stayed when he came for the festival. I think the city is sick of Hemingway, I only saw him twice, once as a cut steel silhouette on the side of a building, then as a mannequin in the window of a discount clothing store, advertising their fishing gear.

Back in the day my parents got engaged in Pamplona. In the early 50s they visited on vacation, and I can’t help thinking that they visited the Iruña as well. I like to think their youthful shades were sitting at the next table laughing and flirting, while we enjoyed our pinchos.