November is Photo Month...by Adela Meadows

In Novembers of even-numbered years, Paris celebrates photography with Le Mois de la Photo. It’s a month filled with special expositions, photographic events, and lots of gallery showings…all centered on photography. This time around, Mark and I both had our photographs selected for exhibitions…he is the official photographer in the family…but after all these years, I guess a wee bit of osmosis has served to somewhat improve my efforts.

Brittany is very photogenic and was the subject of the special exhibit at a previous Salon de la Photo. But the exhibit was not about Brittany today…instead the images were wonderful early color photographs of traditionally-dressed Bretons as they went about their daily activities. The photos were intended to provide a sneak peek of an exposition that was held at the Albert Kahn Museum until July of this year.

From 1909 to 1931, Albert Kahn…a wealthy French banker and pacifist…financed an ambitious project that he called “Archives of the Planet”. His goal was to document humanity by securing color photographs of disappearing cultures spread across the four corners of the globe. Kahn’s teams of photographers traveled to over fifty different countries and eventually more than seventy-two thousand images of far-flung places were amassed.

Here is one of the images of Brittany…

…it dates from the 1920s.

Kahn’s were not the first photographs of the Brittany region. For that I have to dig into our archives and find some images that we took of an exhibit that was held in 2000 at the Musée Départemental Breton in Quimper.

Here’s a photograph of market day in Lannion in the 1850s…

…and Quimper’s rue Kéréon as it looked one hundred and sixty years ago…
 
Here’s a vintage view of the Renaissance fountain in the central square of the town of Guingamp…
…and here’s a recent photograph of that very same fountain…

Chateaubriand’s castle in Combourg then…

…and now…

An upstream view of Quimper’s Cathedrale Saint-Corentin then…

…and now…
 
Here’s what Place Saint-Corentin looked like in the 1850s…

The building in the center…Delamon Hôtel du Lion d’Or…was a prestigious hotel that also served as an agent for the coach service connecting Quimper with Brest…this photograph pre-dates the 1863 arrival of the railway to Quimper.

That same building today…

…provides inspiration for anyone who may mistakenly think that they don’t have room for any more plates!

More Word Games…by Adela Meadows

The word umbrella comes from the Latin umbra meaning “shaded”. The French term is much more succinct…parapluie…meaning ”for the rain”. The Breton word for umbrella is equally pragmatic…disglavier…originating from their term for rain, which is glav or glaveier depending upon the particular dialect. In Brittany that’s what an umbrella is for…to provide protection from the rain, not to protect from the sun…for that you would need a disheolier.

Whatever the term, to have an umbrella in nineteenth century rural Brittany was an important status symbol…the petite bretonnes in particular were justifiably proud of their chic and practical store-bought accessory.

The Quimper potters looked to the daily comings and goings of the community for inspiration and, thus, it was only natural that umbrellas found their way into their designs…

both as a form…

…in this case, an HB wall pocket in the shape of an umbrella…

and in the decorative motifs…
 
…this HB plate features a petite bretonne with her trusty umbrella…

 
…and this HB vase has a similar scene…just different costumes…the woman on the plate wears the traditional costume of someone from the Fouesnantaise commune and the petite bretonne on the vase is from Quimper.

During the 1920s, the HB factory produced a line of items that celebrated some of the other regions of France.

It actually rains more in Nice in the south of France than it does in Quimper and, perhaps to counteract Brittany’s reputation for being rain-soaked, some of the pieces in the Provinces Françaises series depict umbrella-toting paysans from other regions …

Here’s a gentleman from Auvergne…

…and representing Normandy, a lovely petite normande…

…both clutching their umbrellas as they head off to market..

Their umbrellas all seem to be neatly furled, but mine is soon going to be opened and put to good use…as a soft November rain has just begun to fall.

Looking at the calendar, I would be remiss if I didn’t make note of today being the Thanksgiving holiday in the U.S., so I’ll close with an umbrella-related Celtic blessing…

May you always have walls for the wind…
A roof for the rain…
Time for a drink by the fire…
Laughter to cheer you…
Those you love near you…
And all that your heart may desire.

Letters…we get letters…we get stacks and stacks of letters...by Adela Meadows

Well, not really stacks…but they didn’t have e-mail back when Perry Como was writing the lyrics to the song he sang when opening mail on his 50s-era television show…and since a great many of you have no idea of who or what I’m talking about…let’s just say that we get a lot of e-mail requests from people who want to know more about a piece of French faïence in their collection.

Here’s one we received this month…

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Meadows,
I have enclosed pictures of a decorative platter I inherited from my grandmother. I have spent a number of years trying to find out what the scene depicts. I was once told it was a party with whores, but I thought it looked like a wedding party. Either way, I am curious about its content. Can you enlighten me?
Sincerely,
- - -

Over their three hundred plus years of modern existence, the potteries in Quimper did produce an erotically-decorated example here and there, but they are quite few and far between. The letter writer’s description struck a bell…I was fairly sure that I knew the piece and, after opening the first photograph, my suspicions were confirmed…

The photographs showed an HR Quimper platter…
My reply:

Dear - - -
I commend you for your perseverance…and after your years of trying to find the answer, I’m delighted to be able to finally clarify the situation for you. The correct answer is an emphatic “No!”…the scene on your grandmother’s platter has nothing to do with prostitution!

It is, indeed, a celebration…whether of a marriage or another festive occasion, such as the secular days of a religious pardon, one couldn’t say for sure. That’s Quimper’s Cathedrale Saint-Corentin in the background and the participants are for the most part dressed in the “Sunday Best” costume worn in the Kerfeunteun neighborhood of Quimper…although some of the guests are dressed à la Fouesnantaise…signifying an inhabitant of the area of Pont-Aven, Concarneau, Fouesnant, etc.

Being, by nature, rather curious, I began to wonder how someone could come up with such an erroneous conclusion. The people advising you were probably not totally familiar with the traditional customs and heritage of the Brittany region and perhaps just looked in a dictionary of the Breton language. The problem is that historically there were many different dialects throughout the region…some so different that it was difficult for folk from one village to communicate with those from another. (Picture the inhabitants of the Bronx speaking a totally different language than the residents of Queens).

For example, the word for wine in some parts of Brittany was aguin, while in others, it was guin…cider was jistr in some area and gist in others…whereas today, it’s sistr. The language has evolved over the years and the current Breton is comprised of a blending of the various dialects. The Breton word in use today for prostitute is gast, but the plural is gisti and that may have been the source of the misunderstanding.

The tent in your platter served as an ostaleri…the Breton word for bar. Gist means cider, mad means good, and gwin-ardant is eau-de-vie or brandy…so the sign on the tent reads “Good Cider and Brandy”!

I’m glad I was able to answer your question and in so doing un-besmirch the reputation of those depicted in the scene…and I hope this adds to the enjoyment of your Grandmother’s lovely platter!
Best Regards,
Adela
Adela and Mark Meadows
The Meadows Collection
www.oldquimper.com

And while we are on the subject…

Some examples…

Gwin…
 
… on a wine pitcher designed by René-Yves Creston for the Henriot factory…

Jistr Mad…

…a petite bretonne serves some “good cider” on this Georges Brisson plate made at the HB factory…

…and here’s one where I was tripped up by the dictionary…

…an Henriot pitcher with a French motto that I had difficulty translating…A Bon Vin Point d’Enseigne. At first I thought it meant something on the order of “a good wine is the sign of a good establishment”…until the day I somehow happened to be reading fifteenth century French proverbs and came across that very phrase. I hadn’t been too far off…in today’s French, the word enseigne means sign, but back then someone speaking “old French” used that word to signify advertising or publicity…so it really means “Good wine has no sign…a centuries-old proverb to convey the idea that an excellent product doesn’t need publicity; quality speaks for itself, etc.

The Autumn Leaves Outside My Window…by Adela Meadows

The New England Tourist Board has done an outstanding job and, consequently, the east coast of the United States gets most of the press when it comes to “Fall Colors”…but the riot of colors that come with autumn can actually be found in other parts of the world as well…including mon quartier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The banks of the Seine continue to be an ideal place for contemplation…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…or making that phone call while out on a stroll with the dog.

But, where just a few weeks prior, the quays were filled with sunbathers catching rays…


…now the surroundings are ablaze with color…
  
…look closely, there is a window in amongst those bright red leaves…

…that crawl upon the magnificent seventeenth century building that houses the Tribunal Administratif de Paris…
 
…the courthouse where complaints against government bureaucracy are heard. Of course, surrounded by such beauty, it’s difficult to complain…perhaps that was their plan in the first place!

We’re part of an international group of hikers who at least once a month pack a lunch and board a train heading out of town…only to hop off and make our way back to Paris…some twenty to thirty kilometers of interesting conversation amidst the beautiful and historical countryside.
Our October outing provided us with a hint of the colors to come…
…they weren’t quite at their peak yet…but a lovely sight all the same.

Now, with November, the leaves are really falling, but here that doesn’t mean piles of leaves to jump in and play…or worse yet, burn. The French have been experts at recycling for centuries…
…and millions and millions of autumn leaves are carefully gathered to use as wrapping for certain varieties of cheese.

More than just a traditional means of packaging…for some cheeses, autumn leaves are instrumental to the development of the distinct flavor of the product. The leaf-wrapped round of cheese shown to the left is from the region known as the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence…made primarily of goat’s milk, the tannins found in chestnut leaves are a secret to its success. A success of long-standing, as it was reportedly a favorite cheese of Antonius Pius, a Roman emperor in the second century A.D. He found it so tasty, that legend purports that his death was the result of an eating binge…specifically the over-consumption of this particular type of cheese. Of course, the fact that this type of cheese is soaked for weeks in brandy may have been a contributing factor!

Prior to being used to wrap cheese, these chestnut leaves found time to adorn an intricately-formed Porquier-Beau piece…part of the botanique series from the last quarter of the nineteenth century. The series was based on the designs of Alfred Beau.

For the most part, Brittany is not a hot-bed of autumn colors…the heather turns to a ghastly brown and many of the species of ajonc are evergreen. So the leaves on Quimper pottery seldom reflect the colors of the fall season.

Another piece from the same series…a plate full of begonia leaves. The begonia is not a native shrub of Brittany, but its French roots may have led to its inclusion.

The plant was given its name by a seventeenth century French botanist, Charles Prumier, who chose to honor Michel Bégon, an early Governor of Haiti who was an ardent plant collector.

This botanique plate does come rather close to fall colors…
…Beau identified the design only as feuilles pointues…meaning pointed leaves.

 

 

 

 

 

The town of Malicorne in the Sarthe is, however, no stranger to the effects that occur when Mère Nature decides it’s time to rest for the winter and curtails the photosynthesis process…as attested to by these autumn leaves…


 
…which are actually Malicorne faïence knife rests!

Boogie down...Breton style by Adela Meadows

Back in June of '09, during my previous stint as a guest blogger, I wrote about the music of Brittany and noted that where's there's music...there's dancing.

Around here, if it's Thursday...it's time for our Breton dance class. For many years, we've enjoyed dancing at the festivals held during the day...fest deiz...and in the evening...fest noz...but we finally decided it was time to get serious and hone our terpsichorean skills. We're into our second year of the course. There are as many traditional Breton dances as there are traditional Breton costumes and, like the costumes, each town has its own specific version of each dance. The rond de Landéda is quite different from the rond de Saint Vincent and the way they dance the pachpi in Vannes is totally different from the way they dance it in Quimper. Our patient-as-a-saint instructor is from the Ile de Groix in the Morbihan region, but we have been learning variations from as far away as the commune of Guérande.

Some of the dances are for specific situations. The hanter dro, for example, is danced with everyone in a tight line...unan, daou, tri, pevar...one, two, three, four in Breton...our feet moving in concert. Left, right, left...right. Left, right, left...right. Arms tightly linked, we take identical, small, and deliberate steps. The steps of the hanter dro are purposeful, for it is a dance with a purpose...it serves to resurface the terre battue...the dirt floor surface of the typical Breton country home. World-wide, terre battue...literally "beaten earth"...is purported to be the most commonly-found floor surface. Depending upon the amount of clay in the soil, there are different methods of preparing and maintaining the surface. If there is only a small amount of clay, the dirt is simply moistened and straw, hay or, in some cases, manure, is spread on top. Average levels of clay call for a good soaking...the resulting mud is then spread out, smoothed and allowed to slowly air dry. If the clay content of the soil is substantial...as it is in Brittany...then the surface is compacted by foulement or walking on the surface. With floor re-surfacing being a seasonal requirement, the Bretons chose to make an event out of it and the regular foulement of a neighbor's floor is a celebration...with music, food, and hour after hour of dancing the hanter dro.

There are specific dances for announcing a wedding engagement, for celebrating the sale of a pig, for saying farewell to a seaman bound for a six-month-long journey in search of cod, etc., etc. Many of the dances involve linking pinkie fingers to make a chain and the arm movements of each dance are quite specific...and equally as intricate as the foot movements. After a while, you build up a tolerance, but for the first few outings at a fest noz, it's not unusual for one's pinkie to feel a bit sore!

Here are some images of Breton dances...both real-life and interpreted in Quimper faïence...

A happy dancing couple is the central motif on this HB Quimper cake plate

The joyful dance scene shown above is from a Porquier-Beau aiguière

Robert Micheau-Vernez created several pieces inspired by the dances of Brittany...

...this one features a couple from Plougastel performing the ribbon dance

...here, his dancers are quite young...

...not as young as this dancing enthusiast at a fest deiz in Gourin...

...but probably about the age of the dancers from Rosporden featured in this turn-of-the-twentieth century photo postcard

Théophile Deyrolle created this scene; originally an oil painting, it was later used as a Quimper motif by both the Henriot factory as in the charger shown above...

...and the HB factory as seen on this large platter.

Colorfully-dressed dancers from the town of Châteaulin on a Porquier-Beau Scenes Bretonnes plate

Detail view of a grand vase in the window of the Musée de la Faïence in Quimper

A decorative plate personally painted by Camile Moreau during the short period of 1891 to 1895 when he worked for Jules Henriot.

After Moreau left, the same scene continued to be used at the Henriot factory...as demonstrated by this elaborate dolphin footed vase

Another interpretation of the scene originally created by Moreau...

...this time on a piece that was commissioned by the forces that occupied Brittany during World War II

It looks sort of like a Breton version of the tango on this Henriot Louis XV form pitcher

And the following images prove that Breton dancing is not limited Brittany...here we are in Paris...

practice...

practice...
practice!