Finding Connections on the Côte d’Azur
Enchanted Trail on San Peyre, in Mandelieu
Whenever I go to Europe, I am struck by the way a sense of history infuses the present, not just through the presence of old buildings but even in the landscapes. Of course the land always holds traces of the past wherever we go, but it seems more apparent to me on the continent. This image was taken on a trail on the San Peyre mountain, which is also known as the sacred mountain because in Phoenician times a temple to Mercury was built here. The mountain was formed by lava from the Maure-Vielle volcano and there are ruins of a Chapel that was built in 1182 by the Lord of Villeneuve, which he dedicated to Saint-Pierre. I hiked the trail in a boot with a broken ankle, and I am so glad I ventured along this trail with my friend Kevin, because it was truly magical. There is a 360 degree panoramic view at the top of the Mercantour Mountains, La Napoule (where I was staying), the harbor, the coastline, and other environs. On our decent, we walked through this copse of trees as the sunlight gently filtered through, and even though the scene before me was in color I could tell that it would make a beautiful platinum-palladium print resembling 18th Century etchings by Fragonard or Boucher with their feathery trees. The botanical trail goes through strands of pines, cork oaks, and mimosa trees, and it is truly a delight to wander here.
Plane Tree Canopy
The Plane tree is very important to people in France, and is the hub of many French villages. People congregate under them for shade and they are symbolic of socializing and connecting with loved ones. This particular tree was in Antibes, and when I looked up into the canopy it brought back memories of lying on the ground and looking up into tree canopies and being filled with a sense of magic as I watched the leaves dance in the breeze. Plane trees were native to Persia and first imported to Rome by Pliny the Elder. The Trojan Horse was reported to have been carved out of Plane trees. Plato included the plane tree in one of his dialogues and artists like Van Gogh loved painting under their shade. Napoleon had the streets of France lined with Plane trees (and other tall trees). Though these trees are not native to France, they have become part of the French identity because there are so many of them and they have been around for so long. (https://www.maisonmirabeau.com/love-provence/under-the-platanes-french-plane-trees/). Invasive species are not always bad, and in France these trees are revered because they tolerate air pollution and live for centuries, since they send down deep roots. Some have lived up to 4,000 years, but the trees are now being affected by Plane anthracnose, a fungal disease. I made a platinum-palladium image of the canopy to preserve this beautiful tree for as long as the paper I printed on it endures. Thinking about these trees made me reflect on the concept of the United States as being a melting pot, and how those who immigrated from foreign countries have contributed in no small measure to the identity of the United States and also contribute a great deal to the workings of our society.
Entwined
We are all entwined with each other and the environment we inhabit. It is the connections we form with each other and the natural world that give our lives meaning, and the cycle of life puts our time on the planet in perspective, especially since trees, vines, and other natural elements often grow over the monuments we erect. Life and death are linked too, and our lives are more meaningful to us because we know they will not last forever. This image was made in the Villa Eprhussi de Rothschild in Saint -Jean-Cap-Ferrat, one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited. It was built by Beatrice de Rothschild after her divorce and after her father died, leaving her a large fortune. She became and avid art collector and her stone garden contains many Renaissance and Medieval bas reliefs. Dwarf fig trees wrap around the stone, and the undergrowth made me feel I was in some liminal space or world between worlds. I’m still trying to determine the exact meaning of the two cherubs holding the sheep’s head. Cherubs represent innocence and spiritual resurrection, while sheep or lambs heads signify purity and since it is a sacrificial animal, it represented both the sufferings and triumphs of Christ. Why exactly Beatrice de Rothschild chose to place this here, I do not know, but it really spoke to me because of the way nature is reflected in the bas relief and how nature is entwining itself with forms created by the hand of man.
Merging of the Past and Present on the Côte d'Azur
The last platinum-palladium image I have made from this trip I entitled the Merging of the Past and Present on the Côte d’Azur. It is a composite of the view from the path by the beach at La Napoule with an old postcard from the 1920s that I found in Antibes. The postcard is an image of a beach on the small island of Porquerolles, about 80 miles from where this scene was taken but very similar in appearance. The beach in the postcard was the Place de la Galère. It was set to a Madame Valcourt by her son and he wrote on the back how he was continuing to work with liveliness, always in the company of the light. He mentions a friend and his wife who also sent his mother their best wishes. He closes with the sentence, “See you soon and a thousand of the most affectionate kisses from your son who loves you, Jean.” The light in La Napoule and along the coast was magical, and I thought it was so sweet that this son wanted to share his experience of it and the coast with his mother. My photograph was made at dusk, as people stood on spits of rock outcroppings to watch the last light. I found the contrast of the old boats people took to the islands in the 1920s with the large yachts moored in these coves today to be compelling. Since that postcard was mailed, water has shaped and continues to shape the cliffs and boulders. The landscape is always changing, yet elements of its past form are always present. The shape of the coast today looks very much like the coast in the postcard I acquired.
The photographs I made the digital negatives from for these platinum palladium prints were all taken while I attended Aline Smithson’s Room to Dream retreat in La Napoule. It was a wonderful experience to go to this region and spend time getting to know the Côte d’Azur and the other attendees. I’m not sure if it was the magic of the light and landscape or the atmosphere of collaboration and connection Aline and Samantha Johnston created, but whatever the cause, I have never before felt so connected to a place or the people I was with in such a short time. I highly recommend visiting this region and attending the retreat if you are able. It is held in the Châteu de la Napoule, a castle on the sea that was acquired by the sculptor Henry Clews and his wife Marie, and attendees stay in a villa next door. I hope I can return someday and will be interested to see how it has both changed and stayed the same.