Melissa Stephens Art

In many ways I’m surprised it took me 60 years to get to Paris but, in equally as many ways, I’m thankful it did. As my interest in art has grown, so has my desire to visit France. I’ve read art history and travel books as well artists’ blogs, underlining text, dog-earing pages and taking notes like I’m preparing for a final exam, this trip. A forever student, I told Art I was doing research for my PhD, immersing myself in all things French – Impressionist painters, museum collections, historical timelines, cultural dos and don’ts, and architectural landmarks. I even spent months trying to learn French on Duolingo, rolling my own eyes at my abysmal pronunciations. All to prepare to experience every ounce of beauty and artsy goodness France has to offer. I’ll be eternally grateful to Art, for carte blanche in planning the 60^th birthday trip of my dreams as well as for the interest and enthusiasm he brought to every day of our robust itinerary! 

I’ll share most of my “aspiring artist in Paris” story via photos (below) with brief explanations of location and significance. However, I have one longer story, from the world-famous Paris Flea Market, Les Puces de Saint Ouen, I cannot help but write in long form. It was our 2^nd full day in France and a BIG ask in my pre-trip planning! Though Art loves to antique, we needed to set an alarm and find, by metro and by foot, the largest (and most crowded!) flea market in Paris, located in not the nicest section of the city. Thankfully he was, as usual, game.

Full of anticipation, we arrived early to find, disappointingly, only a few stalls open, mostly filled with items we either did not want, could not afford, or would not fit in our suitcases. I was hobbled by sciatica pain that day, seriously questioning my choice to undertake another big day of walking. By mid-morning, when we’d run out of steam and hadn’t found anything remotely interesting, we sat our weary, time-zone challenged bodies at the Café Paul Bert, located on the perimeter of one of the many sprawling markets.

A cup of café crema, an omelet with fromage (cheese!), and a warm, buttery croissant later, the day began to brighten. From our open-air table, we gazed up and down a small side street and saw market tables overflowing with items that looked interesting. Scrapping my carefully constructed plan, we set off down what turned out to be a magical corridor of antique treasures that appeared as if the staircases at Hogwarts had realigned at just the right moment. There I found what I’d come to the Paris Flea Market in search of, paper. Paper? Yes, old paper! Pages and pages of French paper, imbued with stories from the past: greetings written, books read, notes taken, trips planned, and music played. Evidence of life lived before the advent of emails and text messages, Google maps and Spotify playlists (see my finds in the photo below). I purchased a stack of wafer thin, handwritten letters (such lovely script) in their original stamped envelopes; a large, early illustrated French edition of Swiss Family Robinson, a book I read with our boys when they were young explorers; another timeworn, small book with handwritten (more lovely script) notes inside; a stack of colorful vintage maps; a loose ream of typed pages, torn from an old book; a handful of postage stamps; and a beautifully preserved collection of Mozart sonatas, full of gorgeous music. For 60 euros I collected a generous tote of French history, in words and images, that I will incorporate, as collage material, into my artwork for years to come (in the image above, I used torn pieces from one of the handwritten letters as flower petals). In this way, I’ll always have Paris! My heart was full to bursting and so was my carry-on for the journey home! 

(Below) My goodies from the Paris Flea Market

Other artsy inspiration from our Paris trip:

(Below) Montmartre (clockwise from top left): one of many examples of street art; me outside Van Gogh’s blue doors (where he lived in a 3rd floor apartment with his brother Theo during his two years in Paris); picture perfect outdoor cafe; artist working in Place du Tertre

(Below) Palais Garnier, the Paris Opera House (home of the famous Phantom of the Opera): ceiling in the auditorium painted by Marc Chagall in 1964, the year I was born

(Below) Musee d’Orsay (top left and right): me outside and inside the historic train station that now houses the museum
Favorite painters & paintings in the museum (clockwise from middle left): detail photos from Degas’ “Danseuses Blues”; Renoir’s “Country Dance”; Van Gogh’s “Fritillaries”; and Monet’s “Poppies”

(Below) Magasin Sennelier art store founded in 1887, imagine the artists who have shopped here!

(Below) Musee de l’Orangerie: me enthralled with the Monet’s huge, gorgeous water lily paintings

(Below) me drawing in my sketchbook along the River Seine (across from the Louvre) and near the Eiffel Tower

(Below) Musee Marmottan: another of my favorite impressionist painters, Berthe Morisot, (left) detail photo of “Bergere Couchee” and (right) “Roses Tremieres”

(Below) Shakespeare and Company Bookstore: independent bookstore opened in 1951 featuring new and used books. The 2nd floor writing rooms, used by Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Eliot, and Stein, still have their original typewriters!

(Below) Giverny: Monet’s home and gardens, including his beloved water garden

Merci beaucoup, Paris! You’ve filled my eyes and my mind and my heart (and my stomach!) with beauty I will never forget. Au revoir, until we meet again!