A good week

Did a gig last night in Chinon. Three of us - Mike and I and a French friend, Patrick. A hour long programme. The programme was and a mixture of French and English songs. Seemed to go down really well with the audience and the three of us really enjoyed doing it. We got together back in October to sort out the music. Then had a session trying things out about three weeks ago. And that was it until Tuesday morning, when we got together for a run through in the space. Surprised ourselves with such little rehearsal that we left feeling fine with what we were doing, and in the evening it all fell into place. Apéros had been laid on before, at the interval and then afterwards. Lovely evening.

Last Saturday was a treat music-wise. We were over at Fontevraud for an early evening Jazz concert. Don't know how they managed to get him in his very busy touring schedule, but anyway, Jacky Terrasson was playing - solo. Just amazing musically and technically. We've a CD with him and Cassandra Wilson, but that's about it. But his reputation is top flight. When we saw him on the schedule had to get tickets as the concert was bound to be sold out, so we bought them back in April this year. Prior to Fontevraud he'd had a 4-night slot in N.Y. with his trio. Been to Germany and other parts of France. The day before he was in London for the London Jazz Festival and then to Fontevraud. The day after he was in Amsterdam, then back to France for a big regional tour. He's a fluent French speaker - his father was/is French and his mother American. He works a lot with classic pieces, but deconstructs him and takes you for an incredible musical journey, weaving in the original tune along the way. Glorious.

In between time we've seen various friends for lunch and other friends and neighbours for apéros. Been to a great annual event called Voyages en Textiles which is co-ordinated by a friend of ours (with others), in Chinon. There are three venues for it. Our Anglo/French group L'Ecrin provides an exhibition area. Annie and I are on the committee for L'Ecrin and the association's central idea is cultural exchange. Voyages en Textiles through Annie and her husband Mark has very close ties with a village in Nepal. The exhibition was in part photographic of village life, with a display of clothes and practical items, and one of their friends who lives there, was dressed traditionally and demonstrating weaving and sewing. In the centre of Chinon is a municipal space - Maisons des Associations, which is used by local groups. Voyages en Textiles takes over the whole building, which is on two floors, with lots of rooms off. Here a bookshop is set up with a wonderful range of books all round the subject of textiles and crafts. On the top floor is a practical demonstration area with looms of all sizes, shapes and styles and where you can buy hand made cloth by the metre. The remaining rooms in this building are dedicated to knitted items and the raw materials. It's wonderful to look at and the designs as well as the finished items are really something.  The third building is in a deconsecrated chapel, which in itself is fascinating, but here the display is of finished had woven and sewn items. The range and skill was just stunning. You could spend a fortune. Huge success, with a percentage from all sales going to the village in Nepal to help support the educational programme. This event is one that we support every year. Huge amount of work getting it together. It runs for two whole days and is now a major feature on the Chinon calendar. Extremely well done.

Getting geared up!

The wood for our fire arrived yesterday morning. Fabrice the producer and owner of the domaine - La Semellerie and who we know well, drove over with a tractor and trailer load of wood.It was already cut into reasonable sized pieces that will fit our stove, but we have a chain saw, so can always cut it smaller if needs be. Another sign that we're heading into winter, along with various smoking chimneys which have started up in the last few days. Not needed a fire ourselves yet. Still had some wood left over from the last winter, so have a pretty good supply. There's something about the smell of a wood fire which is irresistable, especially when you are out in the countryside for a walk. 

Were out most of yesterday with neighbours for lunch over at Avon les Roches (ALR). As always brilliantly organised and the lunch was stunning. It was a joint club affair, the other one being Crissay.The venue alternates each year, so last year it was in Crissay and this year ALR. 

There were about 150 people. E25 a head inclusive approx £20. Here's the menu:

Apéro: a glass of fizzy - natural or with peach or blackcurrant and individual plates of savouries. Entrée foie gras and smoked duck breast. Fish course: beautiful poached fish in a delicate white wine sauce. Two white wines. A lime sorbet with or without alcohol. 
Main dish: venison with various vegetables. Red wine. Fromages: six to choose from.
Dessert - delicious and super light gateaux with another fizzy. Coffee with a liqueur if you chose to have it.  It was all gorgeous. Really well done. A great atmosphere. And there was some live music, singing at various times.  Started around 12.30. We left around 5.45. Then went back to other friends in Avoine for an hour or so, before coming back to Cravant with our neighbours. It was a terrific occasion. Thoroughly enjoyed it all.

Autumn Mists

We've been shrouded in mist for the last few days. Fortunately not at Brigadoon levels, and usually by mid morning it's lightened up a bit. This morning sunshine and frost.  Either way its been useful for some photography practise. Flat/dull light, slightly brighter, very bright - all present their own challenges, so I've been getting out and about most mornings, sometimes on my own, other times Mike comes along and very kindly chauffeurs me around. It's really helpful. I think he enjoys it. Hopefully he's going to start sketching while I do the snapping. We're working on a joint project that combines paper sculpture and photography. It's at fledgling idea stage. Chucked out loads of photos and have a small collection of around twenty now that are interesting and hopefully give us something to start with. More info as soon as we know what we're doing.

Think Autumn is my favourite season. It's a toss-up with spring. But the colours autumn offers are so wonderful and for photography just ideal. Where we are the leaf tones particularly on the vines are so varied, from palest yellow to dark russet, with the full colour range often in the same row, as the soil changes. This year with so much rain, the colours haven't been so intense. Also the time when they are changing has been in comparison to other years, much shorter, with the leaves dropping sooner than expected. So I've needed to get quick to get some shots in. So far so good.

The harvest may be over but really that's only the start of the process. As well as grapes there has also been a lot of crop harvesting. Fields around us once high with sweetcorn and sunflowers are now covered in stubble. Tractors are out and about ploughing the fields. But not everyone is working on the same thing at the same time, so for me there are wonderful contrasts of golden vines alongside freshly ploughed field of almost chocolate brown soil. 

Keeping fingers crossed that the weather keeps going as it is for a while longer. As we go around we keep spotting new tracks to explore. With the hedgerow thinning out you can see quite a way off and at the moment in virtually every direction there are swathes of golden yellow. It's one of the pleasures at this time of year, that with the harvest in and less foliage everywhere, you can see the shape of the land more easily, and the serried ranks of planting. Very beautiful.

The Act of Remembrance

We travelled back to France on November 11 which is a national holiday over here. In our village the remembrance service takes place in the square, which is next to the village memorial. The memorial is an obelisk shape, with names on each side, grouped as is often the case under the war in which they fought, and the year in which they died. It carries many surnames that we have come to know over the last few years and is very much a link between past and present. In Cravant there are families who have lived here for several generations.  Some individuals were born here, went to the village school, grew-up in the country lanes and played in the fields, together with their friends, and have continued working in Cravant or nearby. It's a very different way of life and with it comes a depth of knowledge about each other, that can only happen when you've lived in close proximity and for a long time.

An interesting article appeared on the BBC website dated 5 November 2013. 'How should we remember a war?'. It raises some difficult and sensitive issues. We were discussing remembrance at a dinner party with friends in the UK, who were concerned that the televised service only served to glorify war. For some this may well be true, but I don't think for everyone, and I'm not sure I could make that suggestion over here and expect to get a polite response. As someone said to me at a dinner party last year, with French acquaintances, the British don't know what it's like to be invaded and what you have to do to survive. I imagine that those memories present a entirely different dimension to remembrance. Just very glad not to have had to experience it.

The Return of the Blog

To get up and running again, here's a two parter. So much has been happening over the last four weeks, that to try and get it all in one blog would be a bit much. Far too long and unwieldy. Although strangely over coffee this morning in Chinon with some friends, we were discussing letters, and the fun of receiving them as much as writing them. There were two people I used to write to regularly. The first was Mike's aunt Dolly, who lived in San Diego. Originally British, her first husband died and she eventually remarried, to an American who was a professor. I can't remember how or why we started writing to each other, but we did, and they were big letters, about seventeen pages each, and usually there were four a year. I'd put a day aside to write each one. This went on for years. Finally in 1986, we met - just the once.  Eventually Aunt Dolly stopped writing as her arthritis was very bad, but I kept on writing until shortly before she died. The second person was a pint-sized dynamo from Tel Aviv called Helen. We actually met on the same trip to see Aunt Dolly. Mike and I went for a five week jaunt, initially travelling from Vancouver across the Canadian Rockies, then down through the middle part of the states and eventually up to LA where we caught the plane to San Diego, where we stayed for about ten days, before flying to San Francisco for our final week. It was on the first leg from Vancouver to LA that we met Helen. Amazing woman - we wrote to each other for years again until she died. Helen would write to me in English and I'd write to her in French. These were relatively short letters - only ten pages long. Now of course everything is typed out in emails and it's had a huge effect on my handwriting.With a fountain pen I can still write neatly and clearly, but when I write with a biro, oh dear - a complete mess. Maybe it's psychological - smart pen = neat writing/cheap biro = sloppy writing.

Anyway our schedule over the last four weeks was a follows: first flying visit to UK; week in Paris; meeting up with friends in Saumur, 2 x dinner dances, origami workshop, three apéro parties, Sunday lunch with neighbours, two funerals, fondue with neighbours, forty-second wedding anniversary, started Landscape Photography Advanced diploma on-line (same team as for my original diploma),  Mike's birthday, second visit to UK -  this time for a week - from which we got back on Tuesday.

The second UK visit was ostensibly for a special 18th birthday, but it was also a chance to catch up with family and other friends. This was our final visit to the UK until spring next year and was a very busy week. Had a brilliant time in Wiltshire and then in London, before travelling back on the overnight again to Caen arriving 7am Tuesday morning. Took a couple of days to get sorted out. When we left the leaves everywhere had started to turn. A week later everything has changed and we've the wonderful rich autumn colours to enjoy. The weather has been reasonable as well, so there have been a few opportunities for some photography.

Into the market this morning, Thursday, at Chinon and we were back again this evening. Called into Café Francais for a quick drink and to collect tickets to a gig by Mellino - who we've seen there before and are just great, before heading next door to the cinema to see a Palestinian film Omar (2013), which won a prize at Cannes this year. Had French subtitles. Superb film. Present day. Best described as a greek tragedy in scale.

More tomorrow . . .

An exceptional lunch break

There's something about a nine hour lunch which is very appealing. Not that I'd want to have one every day. You don't feel like doing much else afterwards. Other than - as we did yesterday - go back to somebody's house and then carry on for another couple of hours, which is why we didn't get in till one in the morning. We had a brilliant time.

Neighbours had asked us to go along for a Pentanque Club lunch in Avon les Roches. On the way we called into the house of some of their friends for an apéro. We'd met them before and they were coming as well, bringing some other friends of theirs from nearby. After a couple of glasses of fizzy we headed off to the salle de fête in the centre of the village.

Not sure how many people were there - may be three hundred - all seated at reserved tables, for a served lunch: Rillette de saumon en cassolette + Bouchée de la Mer+ Confit de cuisse de canard+ trilogie de fromages + Fondant chocolat (chaud) et crème à la menthe+ coffee+ wine.  Five courses, or six if you add in the apéro and nibbles, and seven if you add in the sorbet, which wasn't on the menu, and came with alcohol or without. By that stage, without was the sensible option. The whole thing was done so well. The tables had been so prettily decorated and the lunch itself was really good, with a choice of white and red wines - all included in  the €25 ticket if you bought in advance, or €30 for everyone else. The salle de fête has a large central room, with a decent sized kitchen, a stage and then various rooms off. It's a good space.

Around 6pm the band arrived at started setting up. Electric keyboard + male vocals, two females vocals, accordionist and a multi-instrumentalist, who brought along a trombone, saxophone and an electric violin. They started playing around 7.30pm and stopped around 10pm. In between the whole place had been on its feet dancing. It was great to see different generations all happy to be with each other and leaping about on the dance floor. No one was nervous about getting up and dancing on their own if they wanted to. Such a great atmosphere. Conviviality is at the heart of it all.

From there we went back to the friend's house where we'd all met up in the morning, opened some more fizzy and sat chatting away together for a couple of hours. Such a lovely way to finish. Also for us we realised how much we'd moved on with the language. It was all so easy and just flowed. 

 

The Arts Crowd 2

We'd known for a long time that the Loire was a favourite with Turner. Then as we explored the area better we discovered so many well known artists who spent their time in the Indre et Loire, such as Max Ernst and Alexander Calder.

In this weekend's Nouvelle République there was a half-page feature with the headline 'Champigny-sur-Veude n'a pas oublié Soutine'. Mike spotted it first and showed me the piece while we were having a cup of coffee together. The village, Champigny, we know quote well through various contacts who live over there. It's also close to Richlieu so is often tied up with annual music festival which we like to support. Not once though in five years has anyone mentioned the name of Chaïm Soutine and we haven't seen anything about him anywhere either. If you look him up on the internet you'll read that he was a Belarussian Jew, who was hugely influential in the Paris expressionist movement. There's also reference to him escaping from the capital to avoid capture by the Gestapo.

From August 1941 to August 1943 Chaïm Soutine found refuge in Champigny. Quite how this came about is not explained in the article, but he was hidden in the house of the village policeman. There are many people still within Champigny who as youngsters posed for Soutine and last weekend they came together to commemorate the artist and his work.

Clearly this was an important event and not just locally, but nationally and internationally. Three hundred people came, amongst whom were obviously locals, but also academics, French authors, historians and Maria Ozerova, who is the scientific and cultural attachée at the Hermitage in St. Petersburg. Her presence helps clarify the importance of the artist and his work. 

Gabriel Leclerc et Christiane Delaunay

A particularly emotional moment was the meeting of Christiane Delaunay and Gabriel Leclerc. At the time they posed together for one of Soutine's paintings, they were 12 and three years old respectively. They hadn't seen each other since the second world war. One person who wasn't there was Marcel Varvou, the son of the local policeman in whose house Soutine stayed. He had also posed for Soutine and had been given his palette as a gift of thanks. According to the N.R., disappeared from the village. 

In hindsight we definitely did miss out by not getting into The Orangerie during our Paris visit. Although how much we would have seen I'm not sure. But twenty-two of Soutine's painting are held there. The link is in French, but the curator speaks very clearly. We did however see some of his work at  the Musée d'Orsay, when we went to Paris last November. The Musée had a retrospective of his work on display at the time (October 2012 to January 2013). 

When we go back next year to Paris, we'll make sure we're at The Orangerie first thing and at the front of the queue.