Month: October 2023

Out on the Town in Paris

In the space of one week, I saw the movie Les Demoiselles de Rochefort on Catherine Deneuve’s birthday, Sunday, Oct. 22; Killers of the Flower Moon, a masterpiece by Martin Scorcese, which will probably net a plethora of Oscar nominations; and West Side Story, an American production that has been traveling around Europe and the UK to rave reviews. Not only is that more evenings out than I normally do in even a month but each one was A+ Excellent.

Les Demoiselles de Rochefort was Jacques Demy’s attempt to replicate the American musicals of Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire. He had produced The Umbrellas of Cherbourg two years earlier, a huge success, and made an immediate star of Catherine Deneuve. I went to the film knowing nothing about it except that it starred CD. It also starred her real-life sister, Françoise Dorléac, George Chakiris (post West Side Story), and, as the beginning credits rolled, “with the participation of Gene Kelly.” By the time of the opening credits, it was clearly a song and dance musical comedy. I jumped to the conclusion (a favorite sport of mine) that Kelly had been instrumental in the choreography. Nope, he had a starring role, speaking French which was partly dubbed. I grew up on Kelly and Astaire musicals, mostly on TV. The first time I saw Gene Kelly’s face on a big screen was at an early TCM Classic Film Festival showing of Singing in the Rain. His face with that knock-dead gorgeous smile filled the entire screen and I understood why some people never want to see films on a TV screen. No small screen could possibly do justice to the impact of seeing Kelly’s face looking down at me. 

Les Demoiselles, with it’s various love story plots, was cotton candy of the best variety. It was fun, everyone was beautiful, all the stories got wrapped up with a lovely bow at the end. If you can find it, go to see it. My iPhone says you can rent it on Prime Video. You will be smiling and feeling upbeat when the final credits rolls.

The next day, I took the metro to UGC Montparnasse to see Killers of the Flower Moon, a true story of terrifying evil perpetrated on the Osage Nation of Oklahoma when oil was discovered on Osage-owned land. It made millionaires of the Osage and put them right in the eye of white greed. I read the book seven years ago and had forgotten many details. The film brought this horrific chapter of American History to life. I knew that I could see it soon streaming on Apple TV+ as it was an Apple production. I wanted to see it on the big screen.

It is beyond my comprehension why I am constantly surprised at the evil man can do. Scorcese has been quoted as saying that he wanted to show the extent of White Male Entitlement in the US. Robert DeNiro is so slimy, so evil, that my skin crawled every time he was on screen. He is such a great actor that I found myself wanting to yell out and warn whoever was in the same room with him.

Leonardo DiCaprio plays his nephew, Ernest, a not very bright young man, who had just deployed from the Army after WWI and moved to Oklahoma. A friend of mine asked “how he could keep the turned-down mouth frown for so long?” I tried it but couldn’t hold it for more than thirty seconds. He falls under the spell of his uncle and becomes the accomplice for the crimes. Will this be Oscar number two? Lily Gladstone is a revelation. She is beautiful and her acting is subtly deeply moving as the wife of Ernest. Ms Gladstone was raised on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation and has won many awards for her accomplished acting. This is the first time I’ve seen her but I’m sure it won’t be the last.

The murders taking place on Osage land was the first case handled by what became the FBI. At the time, it was simply the Bureau of Investigation run by a young J. Edgar Hoover. Jesse Plemons (The Power of the Dog) plays the agent sent to Oklahoma to solve the mystery of the many deaths. 

This film has to be the best film Scorcese has made. Even at three and a half hours, the time flies. This is history every American should see. Yes, it is shocking. When the lights went on last Monday, the woman next to me was staring at the screen with her mouth open in stunned silence.

I bought tickets to West Side Story last July, the minute I saw it was coming to Paris. Until I sat down in my seat at the beautifully restored Théâtre du Châtelet, I never thought to ask if it was in English or in French. I didn’t ask a number of questions one should probably ask when a favorite show is in a country that speaks another language. Fortunately, it not only was in English, but the director, Lonny Price, a close friend of Alexander Bernstein, son of the great Leonard Bernstein who wrote the musical score for WSS, wanted to replicate the original 1957 production. And what a production it is (if you live in Paris, it is playing until December 31 )! I’m told that if a French audience gives a show a standing ovation, it is the highest honor a stage show can achieve. The last standing ovation I saw was in 2015 for An American in Paris.

There probably isn’t a person alive who doesn’t know the story of the two teenage gangs in the dilapidated streets of the upper West Side of 1950s Manhattan. Though it is sixty years old, the message of fear and hate, of ostracism of “other” is as potent today as it was then. The Jets are the poor white second generation delinquents led by Riff, a terrific performance by Taylor Harley . The Sharks, the Puerto Rican boys led by Bernardo-Antony Sanchez, are first generation. These two gangs are fighting for the right to “own” the streets of this neighbourhood. 

The stage set is astounding. There is a main tenement building, two stories high, that opens up like a magic box. Both the inside and the outside of Doc’s Drug store, Maria’s bedroom, Anita’s bedroom, the dressmaking shop of the Puerto Rican women, and the fire escape where Tony (Jadon Webster) and Maria (Melanie Sierra) sing “Tonight”, were all tucked into this building. On each side of the stage, two other “buildings” sandwiched the streets and the area under the bridge where the rumble takes place. They each could turn 360o to show someone entering one door and leaving by another. 

As a writer, what I find impressive and inspirational (not sure if that is the right word) is the ability of Martin Scorcese and the team of Bernstein, Sondheim, and Robbins, to create a piece of art that is not only a good story but also has a strong message, in both cases a message about living with others, a message of hate and fear leading only to death — in both of these masterpieces, many deaths. Yet, the message doesn’t overpower the story. One can go to both the film and the show and be tone deaf to the message and love the story. It’s a fine line of creativity that a writer like me can only aspire to.

Europe is getting cold. Stay warm and cozy. And remember, if you are in the US, Europe and the UK changed their clocks one hour back yesterday. The US will do the same next weekend. Meanwhile, for one week chaos ensues!!!!

A bientôt,

Sara

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Israel and Gaza

It seems wrong not to express some words about the war in Israel and Gaza. I often don’t respond quickly. In fact, I often go numb when horrifying things happen and have to gather information, read a lot, and get the facts. Here we are almost two weeks later and I feel empty of words. I don’t consider myself a cynical person, but I’m now of the opinion that hatred and fear are universal feelings that are much stronger than “World Peace” no matter how many beauty contestants pray for it. It is also wrong to completely abandon thoughts on Ukraine. The media only writes about the ugly stuff never the good stuff. I get an e-mail from the Guardian every Sunday with Good News. It is a short e-mail. We are taught to believe that only hatred, war, shootings, and bad deeds are newsworthy. People have expressed shock and outrage that Hamas, a known Terrorist organization, has done what they do best—wreak terror, spread fear, and kill in the name of religion.

My cousin’s eldest daughter sent me a Twitter/X on Tuesday of a nineteen-year-old girl, living on a kibbutz near the Red Sea, expressing rage (watch it)—not just at Hamas but at Netanyahu. She says everyone saw this coming. They’ve been asking, begging for help and protection for years. She calls him Bibi. I haven’t heard him called that in years. It sounds so intimate.

So while the world expresses shock and outrage at terrorists doing what terrorists do, Israelis are going to funeral after funeral, yelling at the neglect of this corrupt politician who somehow manages to keep getting back in office. There are innocent Palestinians trapped in Gaza knowing an Israeli ground force will soon be on them while Bibi yells “Revenge.” Revenge for something he might well have preventedu88i

I blame him for the murder of a teacher here in France by an Islamic yelling “Allahu akbar,” or “God is great” in Arabic during the attack. The Louvre was shut down on Saturday and Versailles on Sunday. Both were due to bomb threats. Macron has deployed 7,000 military soldiers to protect us. Six French airports were shut down earlier this week. My metro line received a bomb scare and for forty-eight hours, the trains moved very slowly and stopped three or four minutes in each station. In my hometown, Oakland, and the immediate surroundings in the Bay Area, fifty schools received bomb threats last Monday. Much like Trump, Bibi has unleashed the dogs from hell. 

This is all much more complicated than my simple retelling of what most of us know. But the big picture stays the same. If we elect autocrats to rule because we’re afraid of ‘someone else’ and want that ‘leader’ to take care of it, we’re going to get the Trump rhetoric—pushing fear and hatred, calling innocent people “enemies of the people” if they have a differing opinion. All leaders, according to this philosophy, must lay down the law, construct walls both physical and metaphorical, making sure that the small people know who is right and who is wrong.

The media loves it and eats it up. Peaceful times are not newsworthy. When I was writing my book: Saving Sara, I wrote about the hell of food addiction and the wonder and excitement of recovery in my draft. My editor told me “Stop your story when you first get into recovery. No one is interested in your recovery. They only want to read about the down and dirty times.” I was shocked. I shouldn’t have been. I went back and watched movies about alcoholics and alcoholism. She was right. They all end the moment the alcoholic stops drinking. Who wants to read or hear about good things?

When I was in college, a group of cinephiles brought International films (mostly French, Italian, and Swedish) once a week for students to watch. I loved going to them. Friends would say “I don’t understand why you like them. They’re so slow, nothing happens.” Nothing happens, just a little slice of life written by a brilliant filmmaker, usually an affirmation of life, these little everyday moments that bring us love and show us how to get through conflicts. I only mention this because little slices of life that are uplifting just aren’t newsworthy – unless they are films and I’m willing to bet that less that 5% of Americans like Int’l Films.

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Monday, President Biden flew to the Middle East. His intention was 1—to caution against Revenge and 2—to get humanitarian aid into Gaza. According to a wonderful synopsis by Heather Cox Richardson which you can read here, President Biden has a huge following in Israel. They love him. He gave a stirring speech, and Netanyahu, who most often wants to align himself with Trump, made sure he was in every photo opportunity with Biden. 

I also read today and found it heartbreaking, that for the first time in this White House, people of the opinion such as mine have been shut down. Aides and staff are divided but cannot discuss it. So where does this lead us? I don’t know. I want the world to surprise me. I don’t think it will happen. But I’ve joined all of you in saying out loud how angry I am—at Netanyahu, at terrorists in general, at two wars being fought at the same time. I’m quite sure that Putin who is visiting his “dear friend”, Xi, in China, is like a pig rolling in shit.

A bientôt,

Sara

Saint-Jean de Luz Redux

I wonder if it’s my personality or if it’s an American trait or … could it besomething else? Whenever I go somewhere and fall in love with the place, I start looking at the Real Estate windows that decorate the main streets of every beautiful place. Some part of me wants to own a piece of heaven. It’s completely nonsensical. Not living in heaven but thinking one can own a spot in heaven. I still own my home in California and I rent an apartment in Paris, and the last thing I need is another responsibility. I’m too old to think in terms of investment possibilities. I nearly bought a little home in Normandy last summer (2022). I didn’t because the inspector I hired to do a thorough investigation told me not to. My rational brain knows it’s far less expensive to rent a place wherever I go. This past summer it was Saint Jean de Luz.

Sunset from the window of my little studio

I was in Saint-Jean de Luz for the last four days. I tacked it on to a trip to Biarritz for a conference. Little did I know that the weather would grace us with summertime warmth. I felt as if I was given the last drops of summer. The ocean water was warm, people in bathing suits and colorful umbrellas dotted the beach, and the sunsets were as dramatic as they were last July. The sun just set further south.

Biarritz lighthouse in the early morning mist

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Biarritz surprised me. I was holding a prejudice about the city. Probably because it attracts the rich, as in over-the-top wealthy, and infamous. One of my fellow #FranceStackers, Mike Werner, wrote about it here and here/Part 2. I really enjoyed my three days there. I stayed at the Residence Le Grand Large which is half a block from the ocean, high up on a cliff. It’s a ten-minute walk on a pleasant downhill slop to the closest beach, La plage Port Vieux. Biarritz is large and sprawls into Anglet the next city in a similar way that cities on the East Coast of the US morph into each other with no demarcation. But I wasn’t there to discover Biarritz. I was attending a conference that allowed me plenty of time to wander from the Plage Port Vieux to an outcropping with a white sculpture of the Virgin to the Grand Plage with its casino and onto the Lighthouse at Point Saint Martin. 

Surfers first thing in the morning-Plage de la Côte des Basques

In the early morning, I could see a hundred surfers looking to find a wave. My little tourist map told me that when the film The Sun Also Rises was filmed near Biarritz, Peter Vertel, one of the scriptwriters, a Californian, brought surfing to Biarritz. Now there are at least twenty schools to learn surfing and an International Competition is held there each year.

View from my window of my rental studio.

From Biarritz to Saint-Jean de Luz is a train ride of fifteen minutes. When I got off the train Sunday afternoon, it was as if I’d been there yesterday instead of early July. I wheeled my valise to my cute little studio rental navigating the streets by heart. The window in the studio overlooked the entire Baie de Saint Jean, with the three-hundred-meter beach. I was greeted with afternoon entertainment: a military flyover similar to the Blue Angels. A helicopter lifted off a stone pier and did somersaults in the air. A yellow and orange small two propeller plane that I probably should know the name of but don’t, flew up and back, upside down and rightside up, and sprayed water which I’m guessing is normally done on land for fires. The best part was six planes flying in formation. Two had tails of white stream, two with a red stream, and two with a blue stream behind them. They made hearts in the sky, they flew straight up and then down in the design of a harp. The sky looked as if a blue, red, and white waterfall was falling down into the sea below. The planes would break apart, three going one way, three another way, turn around and fly towards each other, zigging and zagging, creating fascinating designs. 

The beach which, at this time of year usually has a scattering of people, was packed. Everyone had come from miles around for the afternoon. They’d planted colorful umbrellas to get some shade on an afternoon that peaked at 80o/27o. Looking down from my window, I saw an enchanting montage of circles of every color in the rainbow. 

My anxieties that it “just wouldn’t be the same” because the sun set at 7:30 pm instead of 10:30 pm quickly disappated. It was different but just as good. The gazebo was quiet and many of the stores were closed for the season but there was plenty going on. Because of the weather, people were out and about. Women walked the promenade dressed in sundresses made for July and August. Men were in shorts and T-shirts. And, of course, there were dogs everywhere. Small dogs, large dogs, happy dogs, dogs swimming in the water, and dogs that watched suspiciously while their people went swimming. The water was warm. A group of older people swam from one end of the beach to the other every morning around 8 a.m. Being one of the first to plant my bare feet in sand was enough reason for me to get up early.

Walking the beach in the morning with swimmers already at it and typical Pays Basques house in Ciboure as my backdrop

Tuesday night, I went to investigate the one movie theatre: Le Select. Turns out to have five screens, a café, and an International Film Festival was finishing up on the evening of my arrival. I decided to see the new Woody Allen movie: Coup de Chance (Stroke of Luck). I hadn’t read any reviews except the beginning of one that said it was good, reminiscent of his movies of ten and twenty years ago. I should have read further. I assumed since it was Woody Allen,it would be in English with French subtitles. Ha! It was completely in French. Not dubbed. French actors speaking their own language. Does WA speak French? Woody Allen has lost all favor in the US. At the Cannes Film Festival this year, half of the audience stood up to clap for him. People followed him around for selfies. I understood three-quarters of it which made me proud. And I enjoyed it. I would like to see it again with English subtitles. To read a review, click here

Final sunset until next summer (or not if I’m lucky!)

This is not the end. Just a pause until my next visit to Saint-Jean de Luz, as lovely a spot on earth as I can imagine.

A bientôt,

Sara

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The Artist: Henrie Richer

I was with friends from the UK last week, people I don’t often get to see. Predictably, conversation always leans towards questions about why I decided to move to Paris, what I especially love about Paris, and do I plan to stay here forever. The answer to the second question changes all the time.

One thing I especially love about Paris is the transportation system. As in NYC, it isn’t necessary to own a car. Not only is the transportation system efficient, liberal, and easy to navigate but most of the time, it’s faster than driving!

At various periods over time, Paris has been the centre of the Literary World. The sense of creativity that pulses in the air here in Paris is another thing I especially love. In the 1920s Fitzgerald, Hemingway, E.E, Cummings, Hart Crane, and others made the Café Deux Magots famous and they drank their way around France. In the 1950s, James Baldwin, Chester Himes, Richard Wright made the Montparnasse area famous as their hangout. I discovered on moving here that there were writing classes and workshops everywhere, all the time. It was wonderful. And I didn’t have to drive a car and look for parking that doesn’t exist in order to attend a writing workshop. Heaven!

Periodically, I like to highlight an up and coming artist or writer. This week, I’ve chosen my friend, Henrie Richer. Like me, she has gone back to school, in her case Ecole de Beaux Arts of Versailles, in the second half of her life. She has raised a family. They’ve flown the coop and she can now make her artistic dreams come true. I am lucky enough to own several of her photographs which I look at every day. And every day, I’m reminded of Henrie’s eye. She really can see. With photographs, she can frame a subject so that it is more interesting than the subject itself. Now she has turned her attention to painting and other mediums. As with her photographs, I’m stunned by the way she sees, by the way her heart and her eye work together to produce something that speaks to us. Henrie hasn’t been long in the difficult world of making a living in Art. Yet, her nature seems to overflow with creative ideas, bold statements, and results that make the viewer think about the world that the photograph or painting is telling us about. I am excited to introduce her to you.

The following is an interview with Henrie that we did last week.

SS: I know that you are from the United Kingdom.  How did you come to be living in France, specifically Paris?

HR: I first visited Paris when I was eight years old. For some unknown reason, I decided, there and then, that one day I would live in this beautiful city. The summer before I went to university to study French and Italian, I got a holiday job as a receptionist in the South of France at a fancy camping site. While working there, I met my future husband, who was also working a summer job as a student engineer. Our friends and family thought that the summer romance would not last, but we are still together forty years later. During our studies we travelled back and forth across Europe to see each other during the holidays. Then on the day of my graduation from university, I left England forever and came to live with my Chéri in Paris.

SS: That’s such a romantic story and very French! Have you always inclined towards fine art or has living near Paris influenced the artist in you?

HR: My mother is an artist. I grew up seeing her study for her degree in her forties and then working on her art. I secretly dreamed of being an artist, but failed the entrance exam to art school and went on to study languages instead. Living near Paris is certainly inspiring as opportunities to fill the well of inspiration are plentiful, as much in the streets as in the galleries and museums.

SS: How has your chosen medium changed over the years.  I know that you did photography for many years.

HR: As a teenager I convinced myself that I was not an artist and did not touch any form of art making for about thirty years. Our eldest daughter has multiple disabilities and I had little time or energy for anything other than daily life, although I wrote both fiction and non-fiction during this time. When she left home, I started taking life drawing, painting and photography lessons. I created a small photography business, but then Covid happened.

SS: I didn’t realise your business was that young. Your photographs are so beautiful and well thought out. I thought you’d had a business for years. Yet, you applied for and were accepted into the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Versailles.  Since you are in your late-50s, what made you decide to go back to Art School?

HR: During the lockdowns I was unable to pursue photography as a business and I soon became bored with photographing things at home. However my painting lessons continued during the pandemic via Zoom. I decided that my teenage dream to attend art school was still possible.

SS: Has your first year at the Beaux Arts given you what you hoped for?

HR: In September ‘22, I was accepted into the second year of a three-year diploma course. During the year there was more theory than I had expected, but I learned and practised new techniques, such as engraving and some basic sculpture. We were soon told that academic technique is not important in contemporary art and that the only job we have is to evoke and provoke an emotional response in the viewer. We were told that if we wanted to improve our drawing or painting technique, we could watch You Tube. This attitude did come as a bit of a shock, however twelve months on, I no longer feel it is unfounded. The year was very rich both in content and the mix of students at the school, who are from eight different countries and whose ages range from 20 to 60 yrs. Versailles is a small school and our group of students is supportive and caring.

Henrie in her studio

SS: You have an on-line store and write a blog.  Have you been able to keep those up while in school?

HR: Over the last year, I completely abandoned my blog and website. Having thirty hours of lessons a week, a personal project to develop, and homework, I just didn’t have the time. My wonderful web designer Samantha at Aspen Creative Studiosredesigned my site for me over the summer to reflect a more pared down and professional portfolio site. I don’t have an online shop at the moment, but I’m happy to answer inquiries from prospective buyers. This year will also be very busy, but I hope to write an article for my blog once a month.

SS: I own three of your photographs: one of poppies and two of Versailles. I think your photography changed in the last half decade.  Can you tell us what you were after?

HR: As a photographer I am largely self-taught. In the 80s and 90s I used to freelance articles and take photographs for these articles with my traditional film camera, but the arrival of digital photography rather threw me for a loop. I needed guidance to get a handle on all the bells and whistles that digital cameras now have, so I attended workshops with the American photographer Meredith Mullins, in Paris. I had a longer apprenticeship learning to use my camera and honing my eye and skills. Predictably I started with learning to take photographs like the photographers that I admire, such as Saul Leiter, Sara Moon and Annie Leibovitz amongst many others. Then I started to branch out into more artistic approaches and I’m fascinated by the abstract possibilities of photography.

Chateau de Versailles One of Henrie’s photographs that I own.

SS: In Art School, you’ve been experimenting with different mediums, stretching your artistic approach there also.  Has one of them spoken to you more than others?

HR: It has been a great experience to discover new mediums such as engraving, but my first art loves are still the same: photography and painting. I hope to create work in the future that combines both mediums.

SS: What is your vision of your future in the Art World?

Are female artists treated differently than male artists?

HR: I can’t say that I have a vision for my future, I certainly have hopes and dreams. In the short term I hope to succeed in getting my diploma next June. We will have three assessments this year in December, March and June, which consist in creating a mini exhibition and exhibition pamphlet for the jury of teachers and artists. My dream, like most creatives, is to exhibit and earn a living from my art and to gain the respect of my peers.

Women have certainly been excluded from art history until very recently. Now there are women-only exhibitions and competitions which help artists to break into the market. More than the difficulty of being a woman in a man’s world and a man’s art market, is the fact that I will be sixty when I finish art school. Ageism is even more pronounced than sexism in most spheres. However, there are cases of artists who did not start making art or making a living from their art, until after retirement, so you never know. I certainly believe that there is room for more than one life in a life.

SS: Thanks so much, Henrie. Even though you don’t have an on-line store, people can go to your website: http://www.henriericher.com. If interested in buying any of your work, they can contact you via the website. I encourage everyone to go to her website and just look around. I think that, like me, you will be awed.

One last thing: Of all the work you have done in the past year, do you have a favorite that you’d be willing to show my readers?

HR: Yes! My favourite painting is #Femicide – The Red Shoe I (sold), the first of a series that I am working on:

The Red Shoe 1

EDUCATION.
2022 – 2024 
Student at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, Versailles, France.
2017
Registered business owner as Auteur/Artiste Photography.
2010 – 2014
Photography workshops in Paris with American photographer, Meredith Mullins.
1986
B.A.Hons French/Italian/Art History – The University of Kent at Canterbury, UK.

EXHIBITIONS.
2021 – 2022
Barcelona Foto Biennale, 6th Biennal of Fine Art & Documentary Photography with a series of photographs of the Chateau de Versailles.

AWARDS.

2020
First prize in the Architecture category of the 15th Julia Margaret Cameron Awards for Woman Photographers.
2020
Honourable Mention in Self Portrait du 15th Julia Margaret Cameron Awards for Woman Photographers.
2018
Received an Honourable Mention in the Los Angeles based, International Photography Awards. 
Two photo series Walls and Windows and Horizons featured in Dodho Magazine.

A bientôt,

Sara

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