I’ve come to a certain point in life where idly procrastinating about the future is awfully unsatisfying. The future is here and the likelihood of it ending tomorrow comes ever nearer.
I fantasized about an artist residency in France, found one and applied for it. Success was a long shot, so no sour grapes when I did not get it. However, it whetted my appetite for France and all it has to offer, so when I was invited to stay for 3 months in a small but robust village in Provence, I jumped at the chance.
One thing I wanted to do with the residency was to create connection with the community through art. As fortune would have it, this opportunity came with a local Frenchman to help smooth the way into a new place, new culture, and new language. Living family-style during an artist residency ended up adding a whole new dimension to my time there and was fulfilling in ways that I never imagined.
New places allow us to see things first-hand, to feast on new sights, sounds, smells, and tastes. Having an extended time there allows for richer connection with those who live there. Painting outdoor murals in a small automobile-free hilltop village made it easier to meet people as well. I talked to tourists, plumbers, artists, retirees, restaurateurs, farmers, bakers, bikers–you name it!
The mural project became a reality, once again, with the assistance and collaboration of my local host, an architect who loves art. And since I am an artist who loves architecture, we had great fun coming up with a concept and the sites for the work. A plan was designed for 2 street level murals, one inside the village walls and the other on the outside wall surrounding the village. They are the same scene, but from two different perspectives, depicting children playing and climbing a low stone wall with their pets in attendance. It is a bucolic scene, a childhood memory of long innocent summer days in Provence.
As the work progressed, my architect host was reminded of a poem by Frederic Mistral:
“I spent in my childhood village
The most beautiful years of my life.
Provence was still free and full of songs.
People lived simply, without envy or pride,
And each day was a celebration under the sun.
In the morning the trees sang,
And the wind carried the scent of blue flowers.
We the children ran through the wheat fields,
Free as birds.”
The paintings and the poem made a complete circle in art, connecting generations, surrounding all of us in the remembrance of earlier days.
Thank you to everyone in Viens who made the artist residency a here-and-now memory I will always cherish.
