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Summertime Sussex (Part 3) – Low tide; Early morning

The power of the English coastal tides to so drastically change the shape and feel of the beach has always astounded me. At lunchtime, the sea can be hungrily lapping at the top of the beach, taking pebbles and seaweed in its stride, covering seaweed-cloaked groynes almost to their tips and pushing the pebbles steeply uphill. Yet only a few hours before and after, that same sea will be hundreds of metres further out, calm and flat like a mirror, and revealing in its wake a huge swathe of rippled sand, rock pools, sea weed and all sorts of little sea creatures.

Returning to the Sussex coast is a route straight back to my childhood, where remembrances of walking out to find the water’s edge across huge sandy planes at low tide remain strong. I always used to think that the worm shapes in the sand were actual worms, consequently avoiding them with my bare feat like the plague. Only today as an adult can I see that they are the mere shadows of worms that were once in the sand, leaving a visible shell of their journey to the sand’s surface behind. It’s strange that one never gets to see the actual worm. I adore the fact that as the sea retreats, it leaves beautiful glistening ripples in the sand, and I love staring into the little rock pools, so innocuous at first glance, but full of tiny fish and even the occasional crab at a second glimpse.

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On the morning after the night before, it was to the beach that my partner and I headed in the early hours following my pre-birthday garden party. At around 8am, the sun was already warm, but the wide beach at low tide was blissfully clear of the hoards who had been, and would later reoccupy the beach in their swathes. At this time, with a morning sea mist still clearing, one could barely make out the horizon as the waters, as still as I had ever seen them, reflected the milky grey sky like a mirror. Meanwhile the occasional dog walker and horse riders ambling by provided the only signs of life along this vast deserted stretch, with nothing else but the wide expanse of sea ahead to be seen.

The result is a stunning landscape, and one which is really quite unique, almost like a deserted battlefield or a ghost town, full of the signs of the water that had once ravaged over its surface, turning every element of the beach to its will, yet now strangely retreated, distant, with only the shadows of what had once been here remaining. Yet this transient beauty is all the more beautiful in the knowledge that only a few hours later that sea would return, back up the beach, and the shape of this marine landscape would change all over again.

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Summertime Sussex (Part 2) – Pre-birthday Garden Party

For me, the highlights of my childhood were the times spent outside in the spring and summer; my sister and I playing endless games such as flower fairies and thundercats in the daffodils, or picnicking under our lilac tree on a Sunday evening; sleeping in my tent on a damp dewy midsummer’s night; the smell of Avon suntan cream and the texture of my mother’s toweling dress; dragon flies hoping over the surface of our still reflective pond water, and the sound of their wings getting stuck underneath the netting which kept cats away from the fish. More recently, I’ve loved to indulge amongst privilege few in the elegant gardens of Glyndebourne opera, dressed up to the nines, a picnic basket in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other; and to this day my favourite thing in all the world is to dine al fresco.

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So being that it is approaching my birthday, and that this build up has fallen, fortuitously, within a period of unseasonably fine weather, I decided that when a visit to my family home in Sussex fell due, there could be no better way to celebrate my birthday that with an elegant garden party for all the family. This had parallels to a lavish do that I put on for my 12th birthday, when I transformed the garden into an Alice’s wonderland, painting a Cheshire cat to sit up in the tree, and bedecking the garden with playing card garlands. 18 years later, I got out that same, slightly tatty Cheshire cat that I painted as a boy, and sitting him in the very same, now slightly more slumped iris tree he sat in all those years ago, I went about decorating the rest of the garden for the occasion.

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The result was a slightly more elegant affair than the wonderland spectacular I conjured up all those years ago, and perhaps more suitable for the grand old 30 years I will reach on my birthday in two days time. Pearlescent balloons and large oversized paper chains that I made in the car journeying down from London (I wasn’t driving, I should note) were an easy but effective decorative option. But the real heart of the party of course was the table, where I wanted to build a focus while making the table cosy and intimate – something not easily achievable when dining out in the open air. This I did through the use of a large umbrella, from which I dangled single flower stems of every conceivable kind gathered from around the garden (much to my father’s horror). The result was an impromptu chandelier of flowers, forming an elegant canopy over the table and later reflecting the candlelight from the tealights set out in odd glasses on the table below.

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As for the dinner, well a barbeque made posh with all manner of Mediterranean salads and salsas and marinades delighted all family members present, but not nearly as much as the cake – something of a last minute gathering of a Marks and Spencer Percy Pig cake, surrounded by a mud bath of chocolate additions. Most importantly of all were every one of the required 30 candles, the heat from which made for our very own outside patio heater, at least for the short duration before my birthday wish extinguished them forever.

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So the moral of the post, apart from to show off my photos of course, is that with a  few single flower stems, an umbrella and a bit of ribbon or string, you can make a table centrepiece that will wow your guests before the food even hits the table.

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Summertime Sussex (Part 1): Composition No. 6

One of the great things about gouache paint (the likes of which I rediscovered a few months back and am now totally in love with) is how quickly one can turn around a fairly detailed painting in a short space of time. Of course it helps that the paint dries within minutes of its application to the paper, allowing a detailed image to be swiftly executed. The result of this is that I am finding myself increasingly able to catalogue my life’s adventures in gouache paint, as well as through photography and the written word.

Consequently, no sooner had I finished off the last of my Provence-inspired gauche paintings, which in turned formed part of my “compositions series” (the idea behind the series being that the paintings follow a more abstract compositional styling rather than being constrained too heavily by accurate figurative representation), than I got to work on another, this time inspired by a short 24 hour trip I made to my home town of Worthing in Sussex for something of a pre-birthday celebration.

Composition No. 6 (Summertime Sussex: Taking a bathe) (2013 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, gauche on paper)

Composition No. 6 (Summertime Sussex: Taking a bathe) (2013 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, gouache on paper)

Having been languishing in the sultry summer sunshine of late, the UK has firmly entered the holiday season, and its many beaches have each become heavily populated by visitors taking dips in the English sea to cool off from the unseasonably high temperatures. The beach at Goring-by-Sea, the small suburb East of Worthing and where my family home is situated, is no exception. My mother and I headed down to the beach on a warm Saturday afternoon and, having made our way through the various groups of barbequing families, young children playing in the sand, and sun-lovers spreading themselves out in worship of the sun rays, we reached the shore whose waters were surprisingly warm and clear. Neither of us could resist a dip, and this 6th painting in my compositions series marks the moment when my mother was taking a bathe in the sea while I, looking after our things and taking in the surprisingly summery scene before me, sat on the water’s edge, this image building in my head.

The very next morning I began to sketch out the composition, complete with its curving wave-like forms and overlapping seaweed-covered groynes and within a few days it was done. The perfect testament to a perfect British summer’s day. I leave you with some photos of that little beach trip which, like my gouache, capture some essence of the British seaside in the summer.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Provence Odyssey | Aix: Les Photos

Here at last, after some 22 posts and countless photographs, memories and verbose ramblings, I am finally at the end of my Provence Odyssey write up, with the last of my photograph collections. Of all the cities we visited in Provence, Aix exuded the most life, colour and pure unbridled spirit. While Aix had the pastels and warm colours of its fellow Provençal towns, these were combined with grand elegant palaces, wide boulevards, and an ever bustling abundance of cafes and shops, musicians and entertainers, and best of all a daily food market – a sight which made for such a stunning kaleidoscope of colours, sounds and smells that I could have devoted an entire post to it alone.

I know I sound like a broken record, but amongst these shots are easily some of my favourites of the trip – just check out those sunflowers, with their huge heavy complex faces, gathered in a bunch so rich in their abundance, their colour and sheer hopefulness that if they didn’t suit a room, it would be worth redesigning the room around them. Check out also the stunning old adverts which are painted onto numerous walls around the city, relics of an age when mass-marketing started coming to the fore, and when classic painted images predated the advent of photography. I also love some of the typical shots of life in the city, from the bride with her wedding dress all puffed up and ruffled, and the melancholy achordian player, singing his heart out in a tired little doorway.

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Shutters and fountains, roman artefacts and art nouveau palaces, renaissance sculptures and melancholy musicians – these photos tell the tale of a diverse city, which moves to the beat of its spirited undercurrent, but in doing so loses none of the charm which it exudes from its every fountain, square and boulevard.

This is Aix: My photos.

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | Aix: Day 10 – Au revoir, not goodbye

As the saying goes, let us not say goodbye, but as the French have it, “Au Revoir!”, two words laced with the promise of a return, rather than the abject finality that accompanies the English alternative. Perhaps it is the romance of the French language which encourages such optimism in an otherwise sad parting, or the mere fact that the charm of France makes saying goodbye a near impossibility. Whatever the reason, as we prepared to bid Aix, and Provence farewell at the end of this incredible Provençal Odyssey, we knew, instinctively, that some day we would return. For despite the decent length of our journey, and the multiple sights seen and senses tickled, these days felt like a mere taster of a gigantic feast of pleasure still left undiscovered in Southern France, and for that reason alone, the assurance of a return tends towards reality.

With that ounce of optimism giving us back some bounce in our otherwise sad last steps in the incredible city of Aix, we were minded, as ever, to make the most of our last hours in the city, strolling, at times aimlessly, at others with purpose, in an attempt to take in the very last essence of this place before our departure.

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We started our day, perhaps rather morbidly, but yet appropriately I think, by following the last section of the city’s “Cézanne trail” towards the Cemetery of Saint Pierre where the great artist is buried. The visit felt appropriate, not just because, as the final resting place of so many people, it became somewhat symbolic of the end of our Provençal journey, but also because, having been inspired to visit Provence by the significant artistic connections it carries, it felt only right that we would pay homage to the father of them all in his final place of peace; a note of thanks to the father of modern art.

I’ve always rather liked cemeteries, particularly those in the Mediterranean, baked as they are by the glorious sunshine, yet emitting peace and tranquility amongst the shadows of dark cypress trees and pines. This cemetery was no different, providing an almost mesmeric experience as one walked from one elegant grave to another, aware of a family’s sadness in the multiple lives lost here, yet also feeling strangely at peace, somehow contented by the final rest of so many. The cemetery was much bigger than I had supposed, and looking up hill towards the far reaches of the site made for an incredible vista of crosses and little family mausoleums, collectively appearing like a great wave of stone and symbols.

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It took us some time to find the grave of Cézanne, a difficulty not helped by the lack of proper signage and the fact that he lies under a surprisingly innocuous gravestone when compared with many of his neighbours’ lavishly decorated headstones, and also strangely devoid of flowers or tributes from other visitors. This is perhaps testament to the sad lack of respect his city had for him in life, and yet he can lie in peace knowing how incredibly significant his life’s work has been for the art world since. Putting at least the lack of flowers to rights, I lay a simple sheaf of lavender upon his grave, feeling at that moment a great connection with the artistic heritage laid down by this man, an artist so often misunderstood but whose genius will live on forever, both in his own work and the work of countless others who followed in his wake.

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Heading back to civilisation for a final encounter with Aix’s bustling centre, we also felt as though we were resurrecting Cézanne along side us as we headed back to the world of the living. For strolling one last time down Aix’s most prominent avenue, the Cours Mirabeau, with its almost unbroken shelter of plane trees, we dropped in to the Café Les Deux Garçons, the very café where Cézanne would sit each evening to enjoy an aperatif, and where we now went about sipping our last coffee in Aix, gazing upon the chic residents of this city strolling past, breathing the warm fragrant air of Provence, and already planning how, and when we would return to this incredible part of France.

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And with that our Odyssey ended; a finale effected with such efficiency that it was almost as though our story ended just as it had begun. For with holidays like this, each and everyone of us has the opportunity to truly live a dream, and when, like any dream, you walk amongst the pages of its imagination, it feels so real – like there is no other world beyond. But as with every dream, at some point you must awaken, as reality floods back in with the harsh light of day. And so it was that our Odyssey ran dry at last, and London life took hold once again. But not completely. For with this blog, through my paintings, my photographs, and of course the sachets of lavender now to be found placed strategically around my flat, the essence of our Provençal Odyssey still lives on, and will continue to do so, sewing itself into the rich patchwork quilt of our memories which will continue giving us comfort for years to come.

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing in our journey. But it’s not quite over yet – come back tomorrow for my last Provence photo collection. Until then.

The Cours Mirabeau

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All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | My Journey in Paintings: Provence Patchwork

I have gone on endlessly about the Provençal landscape ever since this vast odyssey, not just across Southern France but also as depicted on this blog, first began some weeks ago, and now I will once again let my art do the talking. For somewhat suitably, as the end of the trip drew near, and four cities had been visited, I decided to start the fourth and final of the artworks completed while on our tour, this time inspired by the journey to Aix.

Taking the fast train from Avignon TGV down to Aix TGV in a mere 20 minutes meant for a lightening speed flight through the undulating topography of the Southern most reaches of the region, but it was nevertheless enough to make my eyes almost dewy with pleasure as they looked out onto the stunning scenery passing us by. The Provençal landscape is not complex, nor terribly unique – but it is beautiful nonetheless, because through the sheer beauty of a bucolic landscape marked by agricultural spaces pinned side by side and bordered by cypress trees and olives, the rolling countryside of the region looks like a patchwork quilt of earthy tones interspersed with the occasional splash of purple lavender or yellow corn.

Composition No. 5 (Provence Patchwork) (2013 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, gouache on paper)

Composition No. 5 (Provence Patchwork) (2013 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, gouache on paper)

It is this patchwork effect which inspired my final gouache work on the trip. Entitled Composition No.5 (Provence Patchwork), the work once again forms part of my Compositions series. I have used flat, blocks of colour to represent the varied agriculture of the region, and in composition have tried to represent what is almost a cubist landscape resulting from the complicated crisscross of fields and bordering trees that characterise the region. I hope you like it.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Provence Odyssey | Aix: Le Dîner – La Cantine

Oh pretty Aix, if only I could write you an ode that befits the glory of your pastel-coloured visage, your night times streets ambient with the warmth of your peoples’ passion, night strollers treading the tango under the shelter of wide plane trees hung with glowing lanterns, around your fountains bustling restaurant tables clustered, and on your honey-painted walls, light reflected from street lamps and cafe candles. Aix, the city of students, of Cézanne, of the chic and the cultured, a city whose spirit is unceasing throughout day and night, and whose elixir of life bursts like electricity bolts through the long boulevards and across your terracotta rooftops.

Ice cream delight!

Ice cream delight!

Yes, by evening on our first day in Aix, a passion for Aix had swept over us both, as we wandered its streets and squares captivated by its reflected glory. Finding a gastronomic feast to match our experience was not difficult, and in one large square close to the law courts and the old Hotel de Ville, one restaurant in particular, its tables set out under the natural canopy of trees, candles flickering on its grey tables, drew us to it. The restaurant was La Cantine, offering a mix of corsican, Italian and Provençal food, but with a menu whose platters of charcuterie and oozing local cheeses had about it the casual feel of Spanish tapas.

Dinner at La Cantine

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Yet beyond the small tasty samplings of our meat-loaded starter, unctuous main courses more than satisfied our growing hunger at this temple of gastronomic delights – a succulent lamb dish sweetened in honey for Dominik, and for me a pile of perfectly al dente gorgonzola cheese pasta, retaining both a bite to the pasta, but a creamy explosion of rich blue cheese. Exquisite.

For dessert, a fresh tart of strawberries and a salted caramel crunch more than satisfied our now loaded bellies, part filled as they were at the beginning of the evening by spectacular ice cream cocktails, consumed out of the coolest of ice cream containers that I have ever seen.

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Words cannot alone describe the buzz of this incredible city, nor my remembrances of a dinner eaten to an accompaniment of chirping birds and splashing fountains aptly recreate the pleasure of that evening. So I leave you instead with some night time photos, of a city alive despite the late hour, of buildings shining with glowing projected words cast upon them, and of fountains and cafes full of the crowds who keep Aix pumping long into the night.

Aix by night

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Provence Odyssey | Aix: Day 9 – In search of Cézanne

You know that you are approaching Aix when you see the looming multi-dimensional silhouette of the Mont Sainte-Victoire rising up over the horizon. Thanks to the multiple depictions of this magnificent mountain by the city’s most famous son, Post-Impressionist Paul Cézanne, the city of Aix-en-Provence, cosmopolitan gem of Southern France, together with its ever faithful mountainous backdrop, has been placed firmly on the cultural map of Europe. They say that one should leave the best till last, and this we surely did when we made Aix the last stop of our 10 day Provençal Odyssey.

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It became immediately clear that Aix is a busy, bustling city, with the sense of something chic and Parisian about it, but at the same time maintaining the sleepy charm of the Provence region. In Aix, the shutters and pastel colours seen across Provence are here in their multitudes, but instead of narrow little streets, here they decorate vast plazas and long tree-lined boulevards. Like the verdant rolling countryside around it, Aix is abundant with plan trees and cypresses, pine trees and olives, yet those trees cast their dappled light not upon fields, but over the exquisitely decorated facades of churches and palaces, of museums and grand cafes, and over the broad pavements which facilitate the art of strolling along shop-lined avenues. And best of all in Aix are the fountains. Said to be the “City of a Thousand Fountains”, the real number is thought to be closer to 100, but Aix is truly abundant in water, in dancing leaping and trickling water, all caught in the great basins of these baroque fountain sculptures, which are at the centre of every square and street.

Aix’s resplendent fountains…

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No wonder Aix is so magnificent – it was the capital of Provence one upon a time, and today is an international students’ town, full of culture, cafes and a general air of excitement. And of course one of the greatest pleasures about visiting Aix is to indulge in all that excitement on offer, to perambulate along its fashionable streets, and to sit by its many fountains, sipping upon a coffee or cooling down with an ice cream or two – more about that later. But my first priority on visiting this city was to discover its most famous resident, the somewhat reclusive artist but often called the Father of Modern Art – Paul Cézanne.

Cézanne grew up and spent most of his life in Aix. Of course he did make a trip or two to Paris, and it was there that he first discovered impressionism. However, it was in the heartland of Southern France that Cézanne really felt at home, and it was undoubtedly the rugged scenery of Provence and the immediate surroundings of Aix that helped to characterise Cézanne’s development from the dappled light of Impressionist works, to the rugged geometric depictions of his Post-Impressionist oeuvre. The origins of cubism had been born.

Cézanne’s Mont Sainte-Victoire

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Aix, perhaps predictably, relishes its connection with this foremost artistic genius (although sadly it didn’t at the time Cézanne was painting in the city) and today its tourist office provides an excellent and very comprehensive walking tour both through and around the city, picking up on all of the various places of relevance to both Cézanne and his family along the way. Sadly we did not have time to do the whole tour (although I think we may survive not seeing where Cézanne’s mother’s brother’s friend lived), not least because with Aix basking under the reflective glory of nearby Marseille’s status as European Capital of Culture 2013, there were plenty of cultural activities we wanted to pack into our short two-night stay. However, what we did prioritise was two integral aspects of Cézanne’s life and work in Aix: His studio, and the view of Mont Sainte-Victoire itself.

Cézanne’s studio 

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L’Atelier de Cézanne (the studio of Cézanne) is a good 20 minute walk uphill out of Aix, but it’s a walk taking the earnest visitor gradually out into the verdant pastures of suburban Aix, with views of the city growing gradually more impressive as the road rises. The studio itself provides an absolutely fascinating insight into Cézanne. It’s essentially just a one room museum devoted to Cézanne, but not a museum with story boards and animations – this is simply the artist’s studio, with the various props scattered around which he used in his many still life compositions. Of course Cézanne is as much famous for his still life depictions of apples and oranges as he is for the Mont Sainte-Victoire, but those paintings were more often than not depicting fruit clustered around other objects – old pots and bottles, and a broken mannequin.

It was consequently fascinating to walk into the studio and see before you those same objects which have now become so well-known to the art lover through Cézanne’s works. That broken mannequin for example was immediately recognisable from the Courtauld’s Still Life with Cherub, and there too were the skulls from his Pyramid of Skulls. It was also fascinating to see the methods of his work in this studio which still smells of oil paint and turpentine – his tall ladder to work on larger paintings, and a large vertical hole in the wall through which larger canvases such as his Bathers series (which were painted at this studio) could travel in and out. Meanwhile, outside of the little studio house, the overgrown gardens really give the impression of the kind of solitude and reclusiveness which Cézanne preferred to maintain throughout most of his working life.

Still Life with Cherub (1895)

Still Life with Cherub (1895)

The Basket of Apples (1890-1894)

The Basket of Apples (1890-1894)

The Pyramid of Skulls (1901)

The Pyramid of Skulls (1901)

Still Life, draper, pitcher and fruit bowl (1893-4)

Still Life, draper, pitcher and fruit bowl (1893-4)

The Bathers (1898-1905)

The Bathers (1898-1905)

Studio done, and the creative air of Cézanne breathed in deeply, we headed up hill for about another 20 minutes to visit what is now called “Le Terrain des Peintres” – literally Painter’s Ground – said to be the exact spot where Cézanne would go to paint the magnificent view of the Mont Sainte-Victoire. Today, the space takes the form of pleasantly manicured garden, with some reproductions of his paintings set around the walls of the gardens. But other than that, it is a quiet spot, blissfully free from the tourist hoards who frequented his studio, probably because of its distance from the city, and its lack of parking for coaches.

And the view? Just stunning. In that moment, turning around and catching the view of the glorious pastel-shaded mountain rising out of the field-covered horizon, I felt my breath sucked away from me as in this moment of epiphany I felt myself somehow drawn back into an artistic past – a period of artistic revolution, when the dominance of nature was recognised, when shape was reinvented, and when colour rose to the fore. For me, it was a highpoint of this Provençal Odyssey (both physically and metaphorically), the moment when I realised that  a whole century of artistic progression and development owes its dept to this place, to this artist, to the path from impressionism to cubism which he opened up through his genius and his insight, starting as he did so perhaps one of the most important revolutions of all time.

The magnificent Mont Sainte-Victoire

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More information on visiting Cézanne’s studio can be found here.

Provence Odyssey | Saint-Rémy: Les Photos

You’ll excuse the photo overload, but of all the photos taken on my Provence trip, I think Saint-Rémy inspired the very best. Below I enclose 30 more of my favourite shots from this stay of 3 nights in the midst of the Provençal countryside, and as those photos aptly portray, it was a time surrounded by the very best of Mediterranean nature, by the quintessentially French sights of street markets, of savon, and of cafes, and an opportunity to be exposed by the Provençal landscape at its very best.

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I think these photos pretty much stand alone in expressing the unbridled beauty of the region, and of the ravishing colours which met our every gaze. Of all the shots, I think the image of (what looked to be) a Monarch butterfly perched upon a lavender bushel is one of my favourites, the deep terracotta orange and black lace-like overlay resembling a wash of marmalade on toast upon a bed of the most fragrant lavender pillows. And then there were the bees and the cicadas, the buzzing of the former inescapable wherever lavender burst forth, and the chirping of the latter, the intrinsic accompaniment to paradise; the melody that partners a balmy Mediterranean afternoon.

From soft pony faces to the neon cerulean of a sun-dappled swimming pool, old rusty shop adverts to twisted freshly-harvested garlic bulbs, I present to you my third series of Provencal photo collections – Enjoy Saint-Rémy at its best, for we are off to Aix!

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | Saint-Rémy: Day 8 – Picture-Perfect Provence

Much has been said about the surroundings of Saint-Rémy – the startling archeological remains of Glanum on its outskirts, the tranquil beauty of the Hospital of Saint Paul de Mausole, and the incredible beauty of nearby Les Baux – but I have said very little about the little town of Saint-Rémy itself. And it would be unfair not to give this little Provençal gem its fair mention, even though, as perhaps the photos below will demonstrate, the beauty of this town is better illustrated through photos than words.

For Saint-Rémy is one of those picture-perfect little towns about which the guidebooks rave, and the midwinter daydreamer, wrapped up against the cold, can only dream: A town of only 8 or 9 main streets, each winding around a charming central square with a trickling fountain at its centre, and a single local café covering the old cobbles with tables and umbrellas for those seeking solace from the sun. Radiating out from this centre point are clusters of little boulangeries, fish shops and delicatessens, while gift shops sell stylish selections of Marseille soap and bundles of lavender, all wrapped up and ready to go home where their sweet floral scent will imbue even the most dreary of homes with a Provençal perfume.

Saint-Rémy streets

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Between the little boutiques, an impressive selection of high-end galleries are to be found – for Saint-Rémy has built itself a reputation as a rather chic Provençal destination, a town whose souvenir shops sell well-packaged, pastel-toned quality nicknacks of France, rather than the garish trade of lesser towns. And in its restaurants, freshly made cakes and pastries line up in the windows like the latest models of a fashion show, and menus de jour almost sparkle with pumped up prices and all the pomp of the promised culinary show.

Chic boutiques

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Yes, Saint-Rémy is truly a gem of Provence, a town which is small enough to be unspoilt, charming and deeply atmospheric, yet sufficiently well-developed on the tourist map to bear all of the hallmarks of a sophisticated polished holiday destination. We were pretty much enamoured by the town from our first walk through its centre – by the narrow little streets, the delicately perfumed shops, the pastel-coloured shutters, old shop signs and bustling street markets. And on this, our last day in the town, we returned to those now accustomed haunts, once again gazing through the windows of the little boutique shops, enjoying the gentle pitter-patter of water in the fountain outside the town hall, and having a noisette or two (macchiato coffee) in the shady central square.

In short, we had found picture-perfect Provence, and were determined to make the most of it. For later that day, our planned departure would whisk us away once again, voyaging south to our final destination: the city of Aix. But before that, I leave you with some more of my photographic moments. Adieu.

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