Nan McCarthy Trip to Provence

Plein Air Painting in Provence

It may have started back in the 4th grade, when I took a book about France out of the school library. In the 5th grade, for my first country report, I chose France and then switched to Ireland (to my Scottish mother's dismay), because a lot of my friends were writing about countries their ancestors had come from. In 9th grade, we were assigned a major research project about a country of our choice; this time I knew it would be France with no ifs, ands, or buts. A few years ago, I read A Year in Provence, and that was the clincher. I knew I had to go there, if only for the wonderful food described in the book. To further tempt me, I was receiving e-mails several times each year from an art teacher who leads painting tours to various locations, including Provence. Trips in June were out of the question when I had my day job, because June was the end of the fiscal year; however, once I became a free woman, a new world opened up. Last fall, when I received the e-mail about Provence, I decided to sign up before I had time to talk myself out of spending the money (my mother was Scottish, as mentioned above, and she taught me well).

Even as I got my first passport and paid for my trip, I couldn't believe that I was really going to Provence! As I prepared for my two-week trip, I amazed everyone by packing everything I needed in a carry-on suitcase. Since I had decided to fly with the group, I had to make two connections and was determined that I would keep everything with me. The suitcase was only half full, and I had everything I needed!
	June 26, my departure date, finally arrived. My sister saw me off at the bus station in Concord, NH. Next stop Logan Airport to meet my flight to Dulles in Washington, DC, where I spent my first day of vacation. Our flight to Munich was delayed due to thunderstorms over NYC. At 9:30 pm, I flew over my house that I had left at 7:00 am. When we missed our very tight connection in Munich, another woman and I managed to scarf up the last two seats on the next flight to Marseille. Our ride in the van to Les Bassacs took us through the beautiful countryside of Provence, and we finally arrived at our destination at 7:00 pm, 36 hours after I had left my house. The rest of the group from our missed connection would not arrive for another 4+ hours. Look for the "A" on the map to the left.
After we were settled in our rooms, we enjoyed a spread of restorative wine and cheese, followed by an excellent dinner. Since it stays light until 10:00, a group of us went for a walk on one of the many paths in the area. We found some cherry trees and ate the wonderful sweet fruit right off the tree. Sunday morning we met the other half of our group, aka the "Lost People," at breakfast. Our group totaled 14, including the instructor and her husband. After breakfast, it was off to the market at L'Isle sur la Sorgue, an amazing spectacle, featuring food, clothing, household items, and antiques. It was great fun. I took lots of photos, as well as purchasing French CDs and a tablecloth, giving me an opportunity to use my limited high-school French. After a wonderful lunch on the terrace at Les Bassacs, we met in the studio, to find out our itinerary. Most of the others had a lot more and much fancier supplies than I did, but then I could fit everything in a small bag, and they had a lot of heavy equipment to lug around.
	Most days we left for our painting destination after breakfast, came back to Les Bassacs for lunch, and spent the afternoon in the studio. Each day we were driven to a different town, where we took photos, went sightseeing, painted, and shopped. During our free time after lunch and before dinner, most of us painted, took photos, or just rested and worked on our journals or sketchbooks. A dip in the pool felt wonderful in the late afternoon after slaving over our art. Dinner was at 7:30. After dinner, a group of us usually went for a walk. Our first destination, Joucas, is an old village built on top of a hill, with narrow, winding streets paved with cobblestones.
For my first painting, I tried to do something simple, but, being primarily a studio painter, I was immediately challenged by the need to work quickly combined with the different the colors, light, architecture, and foliage compared to what I am used to painting in New England. I struggled to get the shadows dark enough while getting the bright, sun-drenched look of the landscape, ending up with dark and muddy rather than light and bright. We had a wonderful lunch at Les Bassacs, which included fresh fruits that were juicy and tasty, bearing little resemblance to the well-traveled fruits offered at home.	That afternoon we had our first critique in the studio. It didn't take long to see that although I am "professional grade" in acrylics and colored pencil, with watercolor, I was way behind the people in this group. Many of them had studied watercolor for years, compared to my one summer class in high school and a weekend workshop maybe 10 years ago. I had lots of work to do!

In summer Provence is hot, dry, and sunny. There was usually a breeze at Les Bassacs, which is perched on a hill with beautiful views across the valley toward the Luberon. Built in the 12th century, Les Bassacs is a hamlet of about 30 people. Many of the homes are second homes. Originally built as a farm, Les Bassacs consists of row houses along a cul-de-sac and several narrow roads leading to the olive groves and vineyards. The walls are thick, and the windows have big wooden shutters, which are closed during the day, keeping the rooms quite cool. Arts in Provence, where we stayed, is owned by a British couple, both artists. The meals were excellent. Every morning we enjoyed warm bread and croissants from the boulangerie in the nearby town. Heaven!

Our next stop was a painting jaunt to the ochre cliffs near Les Pradelles. This turned out to be a whole new painting challenge, and, by the time I figured out how to paint the brilliant colors of the cliffs, with their incredible lights and darks, I had already done a lot of bad things to my painting. No time to start over; just learn from your mistakes and soldier on to the next painting site. I also learned to pay attention to where I was painting, as the spot I chose would have worked well for a righty but was impossible for a lefty, forcing me to twist around with all my supplies on the wrong side.
	That afternoon our group went on a guided tour of les Mines de Bruoux, where ochre was mined from the 1880s until the 1950s. Later, mushrooms for Paris restaurants were cultivated in the mines. This year it opened for guided tours. It was fascinating to see where some of our pigments come from!
Our last painting trip took us on a drive over steep and winding roads into the highlands to the town of Sault, where we painted the vista looking across the valley. Here, due to the higher altitude, the lavender was not quite ready to be harvested, although it was in full bloom, nicely juxtaposed with the tawny wheat fields. Mont Ventoux could be seen in the distance; its white limestone-rubble top making it look snow covered. Being a tourist town, we had an audience most of the day. At one point, I saw something coming over my left shoulder. Lo and behold, it was a tourista with a telephoto lens!
	Sault Painting
For our last day in Provence we went to Roussillon, home of the ochre cliffs we could see across the valley from Les Bassacs. Although many of us had good intentions to sketch, most of us ended up taking photos, shopping, and enjoying one last visit to a French café. We toured le Sentier des Ocres, a pathway though ochre cliffs, which, if possible, were even more colorful and more brilliant that the cliffs we had painted at Les Pradelles. (compare the colors of the cliffs below to those of the buildings to your right.) That night we had an art show, our last wonderful dinner, and one last walk. (below right)

	A dip in the pool was always a welcome relief after a hot dusty day of painting.
The next morning after breakfast, we all climbed into the vans for the trip back to the airport. I was kidding everyone that they would be home that night while I still had another whole day of vacation — which would be spent in Logan Airport. I was arriving too late to catch the last bus to Concord, and I couldn't see paying for a room for just a few hours, since I intended to be on the first bus to Concord. After a night in the airport, seeing that bus hove into view was a beautiful thing!

	Our next excursion took us to St. Saturnin les Apt, where it was market day. We climbed up to the original fortified city, built at the top of the hill to allow the residents to spot invaders as they came across the valley. Over the years, the city has grown down the hill. Murs, which means wall, was our next stop. The name refers to the wall that was to be built around Provence to keep out the Bubonic Plague. When the people realized the wall wasn't working, construction was halted. History, not one of my favorite subjects in school, really comes alive here. That day I decided to just have fun with my painting, without worrying about how it compared to my studio work and was happy to see some improvement. Viens had the remains of a crenellated castle at the top. We took a picnic lunch and spent the day there, which included a painting demonstration by our instructor. - See my Murs Painting and photo below.

	One of the goals of the trip was to see and paint the lavender in bloom. What a sight! Rows and rows in many different shades of violet under the blue sky of Provence. As we painted, we were accompanied by the buzzing of bees and the chirping of cicadas. I was pleased with my painting. That evening we walked to La Tuilière, where there was a fête going on, to watch the men play boules, listen to the band, and people-watch. See the Lavender Painting below.

Saturday we were in Apt, where there is a big open-air market. Founded by the Romans, Julius Caesar is said to have camped there. So many wonderful sights and sounds! We spent the day sketching, shopping, and, as always, taking lots of photos, followed by a leisurely lunch at an outdoor café. How nice to order a salad and not be given the choice of Creamy Italian, Ranch, or low-fat Raspberry Vinaigrette!
	At our next painting site, LaCoste, I felt that I finally "got it" with my painting. We stopped at an old farm at the foot of the hill, looking up at the town. At the top of the hill was a castle once owned by the Marquis de Sade and now owned by Pierre Cardin. On the way back to Les Bassacs, we stopped at le Pont Julien, a bridge that was built 2,000 years ago in the time of Julius Caesar. It crosses the Calavon River and, until fairly recently, was used for everyday traffic. What an experience for a gal who took five years of Latin! Below Left, the LaCoste Painting, below, Nan at the bridge.

Our next destination was Saignon, a hill town with rock formations at the top. Some of us climbed to the tippy top, up worn stone steps with no railing, something that would never be allowed in the U.S. My painting looking through an archway on a street that went downhill was a bear to draw! I also came to the sad realization that the student-grade watercolors I have been using since high school just don't cut it. My classmates had professional-grade paints, and the colors were incredibly vibrant.
	Goult was another pretty town, but more gentrified, as many of the homes were owned by city folks and had been fixed up and fancied up. We met a French lady using a cane to pick figs; when she saw us watching her, she gave us a handful. I had never eaten a fresh fig before, and it was heaven! By now, some of my travel-mates had taken pity on the poor, stingy artist from NH with her seedy supplies, and were giving me nice paper, pens, and other art supplies to try. Although I wouldn't dream of using anything but professional-grade supplies for my acrylic paintings or my colored pencil work, since watercolor was only for "play" or to be used under colored pencil, my mother's thrifty ways had won out. That night we went to a nearby vineyard to paint and enjoy a picnic dinner. No mosquitoes! See the Vineyard Painting below.

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