On Sunday morn during the reprieve from our cheerful labors here at Open Salon, M. Chariot packed his tiny wooden easel and a selection of aquarelles, and then Metro'd a la plage for a bit of plein air — a style of painting developed in France in the mid-19th century, characterized chiefly by the representation of the luminous effects of natural light and atmosphere.
This exercise served as poetic counterpoint to the dismal artificial light, absence of the sense of air and complete lack of atmosphere associated with the Monsieur's domicile très petit. Debarking from That Roaring Appliance at The Pacific Coast Highway, l'artiste gaily traversed acrost the boulevard to Palisades Park, where this view was effectuated:
Le Parc Palisades by Monsieur Chariot
From there, my little implements were meticulously recollected and transported to The Santa Monica Pier, to realize this view of the blust'ry Seaside Fair:
La Grande Roue by Monsieur Chariot
Bedevilled by sporting little rascals tossing popcorn onto my top hat, I reassembled my artistic dignity in a quieter locale, resulting in this view off Venice Beach:
Les Six Palmiers by Monsieur Chariot
Well then! I pray you be not too critical of this petite exposition par la mer! All the best for a luminous week to the dauntless participants on our grand escritorial endeavor!
Tout pour l'Art,
Monsieur Chariot
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Comments
I haven't been to the Santa Monica pier (yet), but I enjoyed the brief tour.
I am so pleased to see you taking a moment away from that magnificent escritoire in the dark and cavernous oak-paneled offices at Le Salon to attend mon petite exhibition! Thank you for your most kind words! But please my dear — we must do something about the popcorn throwing of votre petit précieux! Tut tut!
It is most encouraging to see une jeune femme vive responding so vivaciously to mon petite aquarelles! Mercí!
I know that my screen can't really do them justice, but these watercolors are a treat. I hope that you do this again sometime.
Thank you for your wistful notation, submitted in longhand on moleskin. The languid pleasures of la plage resonate deeply in the dedicated multi-leisurist.
So thoughtful of you to attend — and so shortly after your grand voyage. I am honored by your presence!
Congratulation from a gentleman such as yourself, one with a high regard for the artistic disciplines, is gratifying indeed. Merci mon bon homme!
Was I right? I knew they would love you.
Very nice watercolors, by the way. I envy you your talent there.
So very thrilling to see Open Salon's couple chéri at mon petite exhibition! But please my dears: do put those heavy books down. Oooo! Prudence, s'il vous plaît! The table de champagne is a tad rickety!
Such a pleasure to see you out this evening! But why did you not bring the children? I specifically requested that no popcorn be served — just in case!
How quickly you must work.
I am not as quick on paper.
How very sweet of you to attend! The Lilliputian scale (for which my artworks are noted) makes for a certain virtuosité! Mercí!
Welcome to ma petite exposition par la mer! M. Chariot would only agree to send one of his tiny prints by post — gratis — to a lovely authoress of your calibre. Perhaps, by-the-by, such arrangements can be made? In the meantime I thank you for your most kind and most encouraging inquiry!
I realize it has been a bit, but have you forgotten that the children are well past the age that popcorn is a danger to them?
Besides, the poor dears had a mother that never realized it would be until the age of danger had passed.
However, if you really want my children to attend, I have a most opinionated 17 year old that would love nothing better than permission to wax at length. About everything.
You'll forgive me, but the No Popcorn rule shall be strictly maintained regardless of your reassurances!
But it has been positively ages since they have choked on anything. Besides rules, that is.
What a pleasure to fire up the newly buffed Open Salon this morning and chance to view your exhibition. A fine and pleasurable use you made of the day. Kudos and mercí!
How kind of you to attend my petite exposition on the light of the new day. At Sunday night's opening, the Monsieur had a bit too much champagne and swooned — taking down a table festooned with my antique figurine collection. Every tiny triumph followed by une dévastation, it seems. But your shining appearance brightens.
I know the path from petite triumph to grand dévastation well! I am certain you will find a way to bring forth grande beauté de épave.
Oh envy.
I've an unfinished oil sitting in it's easel here in my studio. Best intentions were that I add a few new daubs this past weekend during the O_S hiatus.
But the heat, my dear!
I like my Senneliers buttery but at 35C they are ridiculous!
So I and my fellow felines had to suffice with what we do best; sashay a few feet, collapse 'neath a speck of shade, doze a minute or two, then repeat.
Such are the trials of the exquisitely hirsute. Luckily my thumbed Passepartout is a master at deep-skin ice-cube massage. Bliss!
I propose the next new feature on O_S be turning on the user gallery feature, a loggia if you will, where the hoi polloi can peruse and appreciate you magnificent work in more refined circumstances.
(p.s. - yes this software does do that - Caruso knows all)
Your excellent paintings have brought back my girlhood spent a little further south in the beloved beaches of Hermosa, Redondo, and it must be said, Torrance.
I am inspired by the Santa Monica pier to suggest a book you might enjoy: Los Angeles: The Architecture of Four Ecologies, by Reyner Banham. In it, the piers and amusement parks of southern California are seen as a concrete extension of the peculiarly American drive to reimagine ourselves and our worlds; that cultural pressure pushing us west, relentlessly west. The drive was so strong it would not be stopped by even the natural boundary of the shore; it asserted itself just that much further, in the ferris wheels suspended on wooden pilings out over the very ocean.
Thank you for sharing the lovely paintings, they are a sunny treat here in grey Seattle.
Monsier Chariot would like to thank Mon Petit Chou-Chou Wegie, Mademoiselle Mitchell, Mademoiselle Chronique, Monsieur Docteur Parikh, Mademoiselle B, Mademoiselle Wilmarth and Mademoiselle Sandstrom for taking a moment from their busy lives to peruse la petite exposition par la mer! I am overcome by your thoughtful acknowledgements!
But, I am curious as to what a commenter suggested. Were these done with Adobe Photoshop? If so, I will throw my watercolor supplies away--no use making an effort if you can achieve such nice results with software.
Thank you for your kind words. For those unfamiliar with M. Chariot, I should point out that I do not own anything so vulgar as a 'computer'! All of my tiny paintings are done plein air and my essays for Open Salon are writ longhand, with quill pen. Both artworks and epistles are then wrapped, enclosed with a waxen seal and mailed, by post, to the relevant associates. Technical persons — unknown persons — manage the rest, and they are quite welcome to it if you don't mind my saying so!
Ah, Monsieur Chariot, Monsieur Chariot, je voudrais que vous reveniez, s'il vous plaît. Please come home. This bon vivant nonpareil ; this habitué of the dazzling salons of the ancien régime and, Vive la révolution! those of Madame de Staël and Benjamin Constant; this boulevardier whose éclat, élan, and panache had graced our pages all too briefly, has gone missing. And Open Salon has lost a certain je ne sais quois. So Monsieur Chariot, I hope you come back soon.
WOOF