Arles
Day 18 - Emily’s Entry - October 12 - 9:21 am - Train from Arles, France to Barcelona, Spain
Oh, you know, just country hopping. Let’s see: here are a few things and phrases I learned in France.
Peu - small amount not petite. Most of the time I was telling people I know a small French instead of little French.
Ça va - I thought I was asking “How are you?” I was saying it wrong and talking gibberish to every person, like every person. Man, I tried.
Pizza toppings - I can kinda recognize vegetables and kinds of ham now.
All French wine is good. We know because we drank all of it.
Sud is south, ouest is west, nord is north. Don’t expect me to be able to pronounce it all.
Beautiful French rivers and bridges seem to never end. The lovely people appreciated the little French I attempted to know. It’s a country I’d love to visit again and again. She breathes with fire and liberty, constantly looking for the next step out of the ancient ways right after this pinot and last cigarette.
Arles was enchanting. It’s a sleepy, old town where Van Gogh painted 200+ paintings. Picasso also frequented the historic city. We ate dinner at a local, outdoor cafe where we came up with the idea to go to New York City in the spring or summer for 5 days, rent a studio for 4 days, and hire models to shoot and experiment lighting a series of nudes. I don’t have any social motivation or specific ideas about the shoot yet, but it’s out of our comfort zone and an exciting challenge.
Right now on the train, I can hear people speaking in French, Spanish, and two older British women trying to figure out basic Spanish phrases. I’m glad to know some basics in Spanish, and I know my accent is way better than French. French is hard!
Riding through the French/Spanish countryside in beautiful. It reminds me of Monet and Van Gogh. Tall evergreens overlook golden fields.
In Arles, we visited a 2000-year old Roman built theater and colosseum. Over the millennia the colosseum has been used for gladiator fights, as a fortress, as the town center, and now for bullfighting. I imagine the roar of a blood-thirsty crowd as I walk from a dark hall into the blinding light of the arena.
We walked along Le Cloître Saint-Trophime. Reliefs donned 12th to 14th century romanesque and gothic corridors depicting Biblical stories.
Life moves too quickly. Before, I knew it Iceland, France then Spain. Before I know it, home again. The only moment that matters is this one and what we do in it.
We visited The Fondation Vincent Van Gogh Arles. The theme in the museum was how Van Gogh made many of his pieces by forgoing his wealthy life to live the life of a peasant so he could relate to the common people. They had some seriously lazy shock art to see before seeing the Van Gogh. One “exhibit” was just a tent made out of tarp. Making “art” about the common man or lower classes, which can only be understood by someone with at least a B.F.A. is a paradox. Van Gogh’s art can be appreciated by anyone. It takes you away to that feeling in a moment in a place. It’s a shameful thing to exploit a subset of underprivileged people who may not be able to afford to see, understand, or even read the explanation behind your work. I told Corey, a joke isn't funny if you have to explain it.
We ate sandwiches by the river on the sidewalk. We watched the water and talked about what makes art good. I think art needs to be emotional and/or functional. The emotional part is where art varies for people. We all connect with different things. Imaginations vary, so does context.
We visited the 4th century AD Baths of Constantine. It was a public place to bathe for the masses. We found out Arles was a Roman capital in the early centuries AD.
We ended our tour of Arles at Le musée Réattu. It’s a large, old house on the river full of masterpieces. The main exhibit featured the works of Jacques Réattu from the late 1700’s. The works had to do with Greek and Roman ancient tales of Gods and political figures. They placed the pieces next to other masterworks of same scene painted in the same year with preliminary sketches of the subjects bodies and clothes. I love seeing the similarities and differences two masters create. One work we saw was half completed.
11:31 am
We just crossed into Spain!
12:08 pm
I’m glad I have a home that is so wonderful I miss it. Life is pretty good in the states. We have a good company, family, friends, puppy dog, and the future looks good in this moment. I am grateful to have a wonderful home to miss.
As a human, I am glad to have the understanding of being a stranger. In the states, it’s easy to dismiss people who don’t speak the language or understand our seemingly basic social rules. Is it too Kerouac to say the following? To understand the stranger, you must become a stranger. I practiced French everyday for 4 months, the best I could, even if I just practiced with a phone app and Scout. With all of that effort, I found myself with the same speech as a 2-year old who knows the word for wine in several languages. The whole the time, I wasn’t even saying “I speak a little French” right.
I so appreciated the people who had patience with me and treated me like a person instead of a dangerous or pestering stranger. I tried to be polite, follow the rules, and not make a fool of myself. I wasn’t able to communicate the thing I wanted or tell a joke or say the things that would relate me to another person. I did know how to talk about my dog. That was nice.
Day 18 - Corey’s Entry - October 12 - 9:28 am - Train from Arles, France to Barcelona, Spain
We’re heading to Barcelona, which is currently in government conflict as Catalonia is trying to become an independent nation, so there’s that.
Arles was a quiet quaint town, just as I imagined. Small town vibes. Restaurants close whenever the owner feels like it and everyone seems to be okay with that.
I had no idea there was so much Roman influence in Arles. We walked through ancient structures some built in B.C. and the 4th century. I’ve never climbed something so ancient, well that’s not true. I bet some of the rocks in America are older.
Before embarking on this trip I thought I would experience all these epiphanies, especially in Arles, the city that inspired Van Gogh and frequently visited by Picasso (he favored the bull fights). Like in Iceland, no radical, life changing moments. I don’t need one! I’ve gathered new ideas and picked up bits of inspiration everywhere we have travelled. That’s what I needed. To step back from the canvas and take a deep breath. I feel I’ve found what I was looking for and I feel ready to get back to work.
We have new ideas for our studio, future projects like the Penn inspired photoshoot and traveling to New York. I now have ideas of what I need to improve in my life and career. I won’t go into it all.
Arles was a wonderful town to wind down France. I’m glad I got to see an original Van Gogh and wander the narrow cobblestone streets. We also sat by the river Rhone with our lunch. Emily played with my hair as I laid in her lap.
This was part of a 23 day journey through Iceland, France, and Spain. Didn't catch the rest? Click below to explore with us!
