Paris Is Always A Good Idea
Another anniversary rolled around recently, and, as is somewhat typical for me, I thrifted a fun item to gift hubby for number 37. I picked up this oil painting at my local thrift shop, unframed and with some “dings” in the canvas, making it a bit warped. The scene, with its cobblestone roads and French storefronts, definitely screamed “Paris” to me. Paid $8 and presented it to hubby as we have enjoyed trips to France, both for our 30th and our 35th.
He loved the vibe and colors of the piece, and wanted to display it. Easier said than done as my addiction to thrifted art means our walls are a tad cramped. He pointed out the colors worked well in our family room, with the 1970s Calder vibe. I love how he is getting into the swing of design, commenting on the juxtaposition of art and now the understanding of color and related images. Question became what to remove. We decided a poster, picked up from eBay years ago, could move on in the world. The 1950s circus poster worked well with the “circus theme” family room, but we did not have much attachment to it, other than the money spent on the framing. I have listed the thing on eBay, but, sadly, shipping it will be very expensive given the glass and long size, making it hard to sell. Anyone interested?!
My Paris painting, now hung in place of the circus poster, had two areas where something had pushed on the canvas, creating unsightly dimples on the surface. I researched how to deal with “dings” on an oil painting and found a remarkably simple solution. When an artist prepares a canvas for painting, a ‘gesso’ layer is painted on the raw surface first to seal the canvas. “Gesso” is Italian for “chalk”, and was traditionally made of animal glue, chalk and white pigment. Its use, according to Wikipedia, “provides a strong foundation for the paint to adhere to, prevents the paint from soaking into the surface, and can also be used to achieve a desired texture or surface finish.” However, artists do not apply gesso to the back of the canvas, and thus the repair is quite simple: using a squirt bottle, I sprayed and dabbed water on the back of the painting, and miraculously the dings shrunk and disappeared!
The artwork I found is dated 1984, though the signature was a mystery. In my attempt to read the darn thing, I realized the signature is flanked by a dapper man with a bicycle on the left and a woman dressed in white on the right. Hubby has a passion for bike riding so it seems appropriate as an anniversary gift, though I promise I did not wear a ridiculous hat for my wedding! Not unheard of in the “big hair” days of 1987, but my head was unadorned, other than a headband wrapped in small roses.
In researching the art, I eventually found remarkably similar pieces, all prints of street scenes in Paris. The artist is identified as “Claudine” in those works, and the signature is similar enough I suspect mine is a “Claudine” work as well, though done in oils on canvas. Sadly, the echo chamber of the internet happily identifies “Claudine (Romanian, born 1938)” but other than that, I can find no information about the actual artist. My painting includes an artist working in the lower left corner. He is wearing a red coat and black bowler hat, with an umbrella shielding his easel as he works. I suspect that is an autobiographical reference for the artist, thus a man.
I began puzzling over the signs on the buildings, so looked online for images of the Montmartre area of Paris. Voila! Believe it or not, the painting is a work depicting an actual place. Our next visit to Paris will now include an outing to Montmartre to find this intersection, Rue Saint Rustique. My internet rabbit hole has now introduced us to the oldest street in Paris. I will leave you with a link explaining the history of the street (https://www.solosophie.com/rue-saint-rustique/) and start planning my next trip to Paris, maybe for our 40th anniversary.
