Tag: travel

Not Capri

“Calamari, some campari & soda. We will eat while listening to the surf smash against the rocks.”

She hoped the fishmonger still had some available as after a night of us all mixing drinks while throwing our arms around one another in song & passion she was getting a rather late start.

She would have asked me if I wanted to come with but there were things needing her attention as to mull over their true meaning. The added benefit was that she looked the better person for allowing me to work for several hours uninterrupted in my makeshift studio.

I noticed she put on the earrings she had been wearing last night, normally not worn except for on special occasions.
They were thick circles of shining gold that tightly hugged the bottom of her lobes the aesthetic for some reason making me think of long gone Romans.

It was a way to get an extra dig in to Gina who had not been invited last night and who had for years been refused the lone of the earrings regardless of the occasion.

There was every chance to believe that she would still be at the market, purposely waiting to run into her as to wrangle an invitation to whatever we had planned next.

Later we take a walk as she did not like the thought of me hunched over my drawing board all day.
“What do you call that flower, the pretty one with all the prickers on it?”
I tried to pronounce it several times, my tongue not complying with the dialect.
She laughed kissing my cheek.
The word was said again three times in quick succession.
“Ah, “friendship”.”

W.Wolfson’18

“Not Capri” 5×8 Watercolor & Paper

 

NotCapri

by Wayne Wolfson

What the Eye Sees

Where ever I am, I draw & sketch. Even more so if I do not have time/space to paint. My pencil musings are not all meant to be formal accomplishments ready to frame.

Sometimes they are just personal references to what I am doing or seeing, done in my 3×5 pocket pad.

After years of doing this, I find myself going to some of the same places which are now part of my life. It made it tricky in that, i can only sketch same rooftops etc so many times.

Without any forethought, I found a way to keep it fresh. I now sometimes indirectly record things.

I was in a little bar, the air thick with sausage smoke, that and Parisian sandwiches being their only fare. The owner had two cats which come and go as they please, all the regulars saying hello as they take over empty stools.

He had a penchant for playing Jacques Brel. The bar is located between my place and favorite record store so I found myself stopping in often on my way home. Either to celebrate a new purchase or to console myself for coming back empty handed.

Now when i hear Brel, for half a second I smell the fragrant sausage and regardless of lyrics, feel a mellow warmness.

W.Wolfson Paris ’18

brel

by Wayne Wolfson

Lion Alone

I was safely ensconced in my hotel room and ready to work. There was heavy marble topped table on wheels atop of whose curved feet I put my own while painting.

In between, i would walk up the hill for drinks and let strangers make confessions to me as i swirled the cubes in my glass counter clockwise with my left hand.

No one here would call to see when i would be out and about which then delayed the process. Instead I would see on the peripheral, people who surprisingly quickly, had learned where I liked to haunt, waiting.

My first stop would always be the record store. Everyone was always telling me that they were willing to accompany me. While it might have been nice to have company on the way, I had a process. I had learned with Tania that it was not enjoyable for anyone but myself. The record store was too hot, to my surprise after having walked back and forth between several bins, upon leaving I had spent way longer inside than I had realized.

I showed up to the cafes and bars with my brown paper wrapped purchases, ready to build an empty glass cityscape upon the tabletop with whomever had been waiting for me.

I am not anti drama, but I think organic things and beauty have more power. A pleasure for me is the ability to take some thing from my daily existence and then conjure it into my work.

It is not necessary and also has the potential to become a trap if an artist uses their personal lexicon of totems and symbols for every piece. But once in a while, the organics of it make for art which resonates emotion. Not necessarily as upfront dramatic as an artificially induced thing, it is of a more lasting impression to the viewer.

 

Lion Alone watercolor & paper 5.5×8.5

 

 

Lion Alone

 

 

by Wayne Wolfson

New Sketchpad & Paper

Disclaimer: I received no compensation/incentive for writing about this, nor was i given any type of review copies.

Up until a few years ago, I was hung up on finding “the perfect notebook (sketchpad)”. There were a few that were outright belly flops, more effort being put into articulate descriptions which initially caught my attention rather than actual construction.

Others, like my now ever present Midori Passport had a good system but do not exactly have that eventual heirloom feel to them.

I did not seek to start a collection and although I eventually ended up with several drawers of my taborets full of pads, it was not done at a maniacal pace.

Often I am on the road. Several trips I packed more equipment than I would end up using.  Not a happy flyer, I like to pack as light as possible so my shoulders do not hurt, adding to already uncomfortable situation.

When one finds the most efficient or best way to do something, after the fact it seems so obvious that there is the self asked question “Why wasn’t I doing it this way from the start?”.

There is no “perfect” notebook as different situations, what is ideal or required varies. The one constant prerequisite was that it be refillable. Other than that, sometimes I need one which fits in a jacket pocket while at other times something larger or an in between size for a few day jaunt carry on bag.

I now have a preferred one for every situation. When not on the road but merely woodshedding, i mix it up, trading off which I use.

Despite now having my methodology down, I do still occasionally buy more notebooks. There is no rhyme or reason to it. A matter of if something captures my eye.

Using the last nubbin of a pencil which had been a great collaborator, I went to the store only to find they did not have any. Ordering it online, i decided to poke around for the hell of it. A less vapid version of shopping therapy.

My shelves groaned under all my books, I could not add to their number. I kept looking. I came across Le Vent notebooks by complete happanstance. They had two styles one which held 7×5 spiral bound notepad and the other a 8×5 sketchpad.

Staggered by a week or two I ended up getting them both.

Aesthetically, they are very different. The 7×5 looked like a new take on the classic portfolios that Torquato Tasso or Casanova would have kept their papers in. Modernized with two brass snaps to hold it shut in lieu of cumbersome leather straps. The leather was of surprisingly good quality. With leather goods, be it a bag, shoes or notepads there are nice things which daily life leaves its marks on, creating an “Oh No” effect upon initially being noticed. Then there are the leather good which do not mar so much as tell the story of where you have been, taking on a nice patina. These pads fall into the later category.

Unique among this type of thing, it opens and lays flat on the table which makes the act of writing for any length of time much easier. It came with two pads of thick good paper. As long as you size it correctly, any pads will work although the included brand is far from cost prohibitive.

The 8×5 sketchpad looks like a book with a snap buttoned  strap to keep it shut. The leather is a different one from the other pad but of equal quality. The paper it comes with is a flat spined, sewn binding. The paper is heavy and has a vellum like smoothness to it. Again, any pad sized correctly will work.

All the times that I have purchased new notebooks, I use the paper it comes with, the main incentive being merely because it’s there. Rarely is the paper something which I would use regardless, often seeming an afterthought on the part of the company. This is paper which I would continue to use. It handles a little differently the what I usually use but I like to mix things up.

Their Site:

https://www.levent.design/

Here are my initial forays with my new notebook:

 

 

 

 

by Wayne Wolfson

Bastille Day

Happy Bastille Day.

 

Had to get a friend a gift from Shakespeare & Company. Perfect symmetry. Victor Hugo had always been against the title “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”.

 

20160522_122514

 

 

 

by Wayne Wolfson

Jam session

Anytime one sees Paris on television or in the movies, as a character passes by a window or stops in front of one to gaze out and ponder some plot point, the Eiffel tower can be seen.

More often than not, this is not geographically accurate for where the action is taking place.

That aside, not a bad view to be sure. But I think there are more inspiring views which would have less ambient noise of tourists etc which can distract from living one’s life (working) in the city of lights.

Year after year I live in the same place, same arrondissement, in Paris. It is  a working neighborhood, meaning no tourists.

However, every other door which is not a residance seems to be a bar or boulangerie.

I am ten minute walk from places to sketch like the Luxembourg gardens.

I have, after all these years become a part of my neighborhood.

When I am elsewhere in the world, I dream of being back. I have decades long relationship with my wine merchant, butcher, greengrocer and baker.

There is established level of comfortability that I know I can sit in a bar sketching on the sly and not be perceived akin to one of those people with their laptops “writing” to be found in every Starbucks stateside.

It kept raining off and on…steady rain would be all right people would click clack down the wet cobblestone streets holding a newspaper or their jacket, cape like, over their heads.

Sporadic rain, it got humid. Clothes got wet, then you find yourself cold, followed by a type of sticky as body heat working over time dries away the rain.

Stop-start of the skies festivities,  people are just staying wherever they are at.

I am in one of the little intimate bars which despite my now having a studio, serves as an unofficial office.

There is a tall brown haired girl sitting alone at the bar. She wears a still wet dress whose true color is slowly being revealed as it dries.

I am at my usual table, stealing pieces of her with my pencil.

A guitarist is in the corner playing.

At first he is playing for her…his fingers conjure up abstractions which encapsulates something that could make one happy to be blue.

She is forgotten, now he plays for himself.

Her change on the counter, the cymbal fall, the end of a song.

He sees me, I nod.

I hold two fingers up to the bartender. He has never cared about busy versus dead nights so long as he sees the familiar faces of regulars over the course of the week.

We Klink our glasses.

I see him look at my sketchpad. Without hesitation I hand it to him to inspect.

He had originally wanted to be a poet using language and words as to convey the emotions which are now brought forth via his fingers. Words to make people feel.

I had wanted to, in my youth be a musician .

We had both found our way, just not in the manner originally envisioned.

Paris May ’18

 

Quick sketch

 

 

20180525_164609

 

 

 

by Wayne Wolfson

Return to France

Before heading to my home in Paris, I was down in the south of France doing research for an essay of French gastronomy of a bygone era.

It was not conducive for my painting but I did sketch non stop. I utilized my ever present midori passport pocket pad.

I enjoyed the challange of such small size, 3×5 to create fully realized pieces.

Some of my reading inspired me to shake things up as I had long been familiar with the size. I started using both sides of the page, holding the pad vertically (so that what were the books edges became the too and bottom).

It was interesting ng in that more space does not necessarily equate to easier .

One has to think of compositional balance differently.

Back in paris. First morning in studio started a painting 5×8. The weather going from overcast to rain has not facilitated progress so I am back to sketching.

I find myself now also combining my own texts to pieces.

Even with the rain, it is great fun adding to myself in a way which shall remain with me.

 

 

 

 

 

by Wayne Wolfson

On The Road

I travel a lot. One thing I have noticed is that for the last twenty years or so, go to any great city in Europe and inevitably you will see tourists walking down the main streets filming.

Excitedly, they want to capture what they are seeing and where they are as to show friends & family back home.

This is faulty logic on several levels:

Technology is constantly changing. One year i saw people walking down the Champ-Elysees using the camcorders that you just insert an actual VCR tape into. The next year cameras were far smaller. People are inherently lazy, no one is going to do transfers of all the footage shot over the years and even if you had the gumption to do so, it will look terrible.

When showing footage to friends  back home, although somewhat of a sitcom cliche, it quickly becomes  boring. A shakey cam view of streets, unless something amazing is caught on film, quickly becomes dull. And although most friends most likely will not say so, the mind starts to wander as they watch the footage.

 

Photos are a little better. A photo potentially offers a more obvious immediacy of what is “important” that the viewer should be noticing.

However photos offer their own drawbacks. People in search of the perfect instagram photos are so busy concentrating on that, that they are not in the moment. Go to any museum and watch as people run up to an immortal work snap a photo with it behind them, then run off. Yes, one may have “seen” a Van Gough et al but aside from location and year of trip little else is remembered despite getting massive numbers of likes & retweets on their sites.

I am by no means anti technology. I enjoy the instant gratification of emails, skype & texting when on the road. I also do take some photos. These things though are given very little of my times.  I have found that I absorb more and it becomes more memorable doing quick sketches and some notes of what i am doing and seeing.

To whomever I show these records of my journey to, they are seeing what was important to me and it is more engaging. (Even the best photo one takes or Paris, Rome etc etc thousands of other people have gotten the same exact shot!)

Not everyone can draw but anyone can jot down the interesting or odd little things they come across. Anyone who would claim to not come across anything to write is probably missing it because they are texting or posting to social media.

For any journey the thing is not to be ourselves as we are at home, making everything around us adapt. Rather, it is  to explore and be open to a life lived differently  as to draw new things into ourselves fostering evolution (intellectually, spiritually etc)

 

Charcoal Text & Image improvisation 9×12

 

20180425_070618

 

by Wayne Wolfson