Art History Lesson: Impressionists you've never heard of, part 1

If you've taken any kind of art class, whether it be studio art when you were 12 years old or "Art Appreciation 101" in university, you've definitely, without a doubt, heard of the French Impressionists.   I don't even want to know how many times I've sat through lessons about how urbanisation, industrialisation, photography, leisure time, democratization of society, Orientalism, and of course, a desire to break the traditional rules of Fine Art all came together to create probably the most widely-known art movement of all time.  Don't get me wrong, I adore this kind of art;  In fact, these are my favorite types of paintings to see in museums and galleries; Musée D'orsay will always be my favorite.  However, sometimes it's nice to learn something new, to see a fresh side of an otherwise over-exhausted subject.

That's why I was so pleasantly surprised to hear of an American Impressionist exhibition at Giverny's Musée des Impressionnismes (You can see my trip to Monet's garden at Giverny here).  When do you ever hear names like Cecilia Beaux,  William Merritt Chase, Childe Hassam, or John Henry Twachtman?  I spent  years of my life studying these things and never once heard their names, but I like to think that I'm continuing my education on my own.  You don't ever have to stop learning , thinking, and improving.



One artist that really stood out to me at this exhibition was John Henry Twachtman.  They had mainly his winter scenes, which at first glance appeared as dull, muddy canvases, but once I stopped for a few more seconds, I realised how beautifully stubtle the colours were.  Once I researched him on the internet at home, I saw that he actually was not afraid of color. I chose the works below for their use of color.

{May Morn, 1899, John Henry Twachtman, National Museum of American Art}

What always draws me into a painting are the colours.  It always fascinates me to find that shadows aren't gray - they're actually lavender, violet, deep turquoise, sea green, and cerulean blue; And highlights aren't just white - they're soft creams, tinted grays, feathery blues, and pastel pinks.  Once you're able to see that whites aren't really white, and blacks aren't actually black, art really transforms, and you may even start to see the variation in color and light in your daily life.

The other thing that really gets me, is the atmosphere Twachtman is able to create.  You can almost feel the morning fog over the river in the picture above, and the wintery chill in the air below.

{Winter, 1898, John Henry Twachtman}

These other ones I simply chose because of their beautiful colours.  Can you see the rainbow colours in the snow of the last image??  It's so cool!! Or is it just me who thinks that's amazing? :)

{Meadow Flowers (Golden Rod and Wild Aster), 1892, John Henry Twachtman, Brooklyn Museum, New York}

{The Cabbage Patch, 1890-93, John Henry Twachtman}

{Winter Landscape, John Henry Twachtman}

I would really love to make this into a series called "Art Lessons."  I have one more planned about Impressionists you've never heard of.  What do you think of this Art History series?  Would you read it?  Honest opinions please!



Instagram // Pinterest // Bloglovin // Society6

Perhaps the Most Romantic Spot in Paris, and Week Highlights

This week's highlights have been defined by one thing: The SUNSHINE! I don't think one fully understands the positive affects of that heavenly burning ball of gas, high up in the sky, until you live somewhere that experiences rain more than three times per year. Not only sunshine, but also sorbet, a new work opportunity, an American diner, and perhaps the most romantic spot in Paris. A big claim to make, I realise, but keep reading, people. Keep reading.

Last Sunday, a friend and I had brunch at Rose Bakery, a Franco-British establishment with a few locations around Paris. It's been quite hyped up in "hipster circles" (for lack of a better term), and for good reason. The façade and interior are unassuming and comfortable, the food feels hearty, simple, and of good quality. That morning, I had a cappuccino, a pear cranberry muffin, and a quiche. The muffin wasn't all sugar, and the quiche differed from French quiches in that it was square-shaped and had a sturdier crust. Only got a snapshot of the pretty foam on my cappuccino.

After brunch, we took a trip to the flea market at St. Ouen. I hadn't planned on coming, so without having any idea of what I was looking for, I left with nothing. In in all honesty, it's quite overpriced. We had a fun time admiring all the crazy things, though. There's even a little brasserie embedded within the open-air, alley-section of the market, and that afternoon we heard some live French music emanating from inside.

Next stop that Sunday was, of course, ice cream. How can you say no to ice cream? The lines at every single retailer of Berthillon on Île-Saint-Louis was lengthy, but the wait was so worth it. I went for my usual salted caramel, but changed it up a bit with an extra scoop of Mango sorbet. On our way across a bridge and down to the riverbank, a strange man asked us for a taste of our ice cream cones... "je peux goûter, je peux goûter?" I responded with a strong "NON" and a highly protective arm gesture. Don't mess with my ice cream! Do you see the dense line of people chilling on the river bank? The sun really lures the people out.



We just couldn't bear to end our sunny day there, so we hopped on a bus to Luxembourg, and had a walk-through. No joke, every single park seat was occupied. Even the section of grass that people are permitted to sit on was packed full with grass-loungers. The diffused sunlight cast long shadows of the trees on the ground.



Fast forward to Thursday, when I had my first experience in a new opportunity. I don't want to call it an internship, because that's not what it is. Officially, it's something of an "exchange." An exchange of my time for use of their space. It's at an art gallery, allows me to learn about a portion of the art market, take on small projects, and in the meantime, build up a reference for the future. It's nothing fancy or too interesting, but at least it's something to fill up my time and to build up my resumé ever so slightly. The gallery is near my old neighbourhood and very close to the Eiffel Tower, so it's a lovely area to visit once a week. I took this picture below in the Champs de Mars during a little walk I had nearby.


Fast forward once again to this Saturday, when I met a couple friends for a traditional American diner brunch and some more island-time. Breakfast in America is the perfect place for lost expats and homesick university exchange students. This time around I had an omelet with potatoes, a root beer, and a slice of pecan pie! Ellen and I (both American) invited my new Serbian acquantance along for a little slice of America; it's always so fun to show other cultures some of your home country!

The most amazing thing happened that day. When we surfaced from the metro, the skies were horribly gray, the weather was cold, and the wind was strong, but upon exiting the diner, the skies had suddenly become a bright blue canvas filled with white pillow-clouds.

Charles Dickens really sums it up: “It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.”

We walked through a nearby park, meandered down a narrow street, and ended up at Notre Dame, once again. I seriously should branch out! I always end up right at the islands somehow!






Since I hadn't been there since last Fall, I said to Ellen, "Let's go check out this little park at the tip of this island!" So - we did. If I had been there with Erik, we definitely would have been one of the many couples being cute and cuddly on the river banks. The park covers the triangular tip of the island, with paved space all around to sit, legs dangling over the sloped edge. If the temperature was a bit warmer, a blanket, a bottle of wine, and some sandwiches would have been in order. I think the best part about this section of the Seine were the the romantic weeping willows - it's no coincidence that Taylor Swift films a bulk of her "Begin Again" video under these very willows, it's just so damn romantic. Combined with the unreal sky, it was too much to handle.





Instagram // Pinterest // Bloglovin // Society6

Pondering Paris

The last week and a half I can't stop thinking, pondering, and obsessing about Paris in the Fall. I lay awake at night, as I'm supposed to be getting much-needed sleep, coming up with scenarios in my head, such as - searching for an apartment, ordering a crepe, finding my favorite boulangerie, taking art history classes in French, and the list goes on. I've even spent a significant amount of time exploring the streets of Paris via Google Maps street view. I've been researching like crazy for advice on studying abroad, and brainstorming ways to save up money. If you're wondering where in the world I've been the last two weeks - this is what I've been doing.

This Fall, I will have the chance to live in a new country. I'll be there for five months, I'll rent a tiny closet-sized apartment (shared toilet down the hall), I'll be an English tutor part time, and I'll study art history in the company of the best museums in the world. I almost can't believe it's going to happen - It still feels surreal.

Photo by Rebecca Plotnick

When most people think about Paris, they think Luxury and Fashion. But those are two stereotypes I don't care much about. The experience I want to have in Paris is a real one, full of busy metros, rude French waiters, picnics along the Seine, scavenging flea markets, buying fresh food at the outdoor market everyday, practicing my French until I'm so frustrated I throw my school books across the room (though they won't go far, as my apartment will be 5 feet across), finding nooks and crannies of the city no tourist has touched, and most of all, make my own way. Of course, I desperately want to experience the opulence and grandeur of all the tourist must-see sites, but most of all, I want to have an authentic Parisian life, even if that life lasts less than half a year.

Photo by Cherie Lester