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A record of Jan Windle's work in Europe and Britain, collecting subjects for her paintings and prints.

Monday, April 30, 2007

To Praiano in April Part 2


This is the second half of my diary of my visit to the Amalfi Coast in April 2006. I was so busy in the second week that I had to wait until I got home to complete the written record.

In the middle of my first week of sketching in Positano and Praiano, I was offered an exhibition at the Buco di Bacca gallery, when the manager, Davide, saw my work in progress and looked at the sketches of the landscape and seascape that I had done so far. I was cautiously optimistic about this and was very pleased when in the following week Davide confirmed that they would like it to go ahead. Originally I was asked to arrange it for the month of June but I had to explain that I am exhibiting work at my own studio as part of Surrey Open Studios from 11th to 21st June. We agreed that I would come out to Positano immediately after that and that the opening day of the exhibition would be 7th July.


I surveyed the gallery space and decided that I needed 10 large new canvases (at least 1 metre along one of their sides before framing) and at least 8 smaller ones. These would be based on the sketches I was doing and the photographs I was taking on my present trip. They must all be about the Amalfi Coast. I already had six or seven larger gouache paintings that I could bring over and frame here so that they are the right size. I also had at least twenty small original works at home to select from, and some signed digital prints on watercolour which can be offered at a less expensive price than the originals (which are unique, of course).

I had some organisation to do now, too. I booked an apartment at very reasonable price at a pensione down the road from where I was staying now, for 6 weeks in June and July, and checked out the price of British Airways flights, which are always the best price and most useful timings to Naples (http:www.ba.com)

This all happened so quickly because of the encouragement I had from my friendship with Connie at the Miniaci Art Gallery (http://www.miniaciart.com ) in Positano. This is the Positano branch of a gallery that carries the work of internationally famous artists and has its main branch in Milan.

On Friday evening (20th April) Connie invited me to her home, down the road from where I am staying in Praiano, for supper. She has a very stylish but cosy little apartment and it really made me want to come and live in Praiano myself. (Perhaps, one day...) Connie had originally suggested Thursday for this meal, but we changed it because her little cat, Puskin, had to have an emergency operation on a tumour and needed all her attention this week.

"You must come and meet my little haggis!" said Connie on Friday, the day after the operation. That was Puskin, all stitched up and baggy after having the operation. We found her in pretty good spirits, though subdued. She managed a purr when I stroked her and became quite urgent about the fish that Connie cooked for her, in spite of a moment of suspicious sniffing as she caught a whiff of the antibiotic pill that had been mashed into it. Connie was concerned because Puskin was eating but not peeing or pooing, but a phone call to the vet set her mind at rest. (By today, Sunday, Puskin was leaping about as usual, and her innards had started to work properly again, Connie reported when I looked into the gallery that morning.)

As Connie began to cook us a supper of pasta with prawns and garlic, Elisa, her neighbour, looked in with a big basket of fruit that they had bought together - huge juicy oranges, enormous strawberries and organic apples. Elisa was invited to have supper with us and I was given a share of the fruit to take home, too. Elisa spoke no English. Connie is bilingual so we had one of those three-cornered conversations that I often have here at the moment. I can understand a certain amount of Italian and speak a little too, but a translator in both languages did speed the conversation up considerably.

We discussed accommodation costs for me in June and July and they both recommended striking a bargain with the owner of the pensione whiere I have now booked. I left at about 9pm, conscious that Connie had to work in the morning, after a really good evening with my new friends.

That was on Friday. On Saturday morning I got up early and walked down to the pensione that had been recommended to me. There I was introduced to Penelope, another artist who is arranging an exhibition of her paintings on silk, in Capri.

Penelope was waiting for a promised lift to Positano with her ten large paintings, which she had brought with her as hold baggage with BA a few days ago. The owner of the pensione is a very old friend of hers (she has known him since he was six years old, they both confirmed), and he had offered to help her to take the work to the jetty in Positano where they would be picked up by someone from Capriart, the gallery that was their destination.

Penelope certainly knows her way around Italy much better than I do, and speaks perfect Italian because, she explained, she had once been married to an Italian and had lived in Italy. She introduced me to Lynn, who is an Australian staying for the week. Lynn is spending six weeks travelling round Italy, as one of her biennial globe-trottings.

We all got on so well, we decided to meet up in the evening for a drink at the pensione. That turned into a meal in the restaurant next door, in a lovely setting overlooking the sea. I showed them my work and was really pleased and flattered when Lynn bought an acrylic sketch on paper, to take home as a souvenir.

We spent the evening laughing, beginning with Penelope's realisation that the restaurant was directly below her apartment terrace and if anyone took the trouble to look up they would look straight into her room. She hadn't realised the restaurant was there, because it is partly canopied over with straw.

"I think I may have been seen taking my bikini off on my terrace this afternoon" she said sheepishly.

Overhearing, the waiter gave a loud guffaw and confirmed "Yes Signora, I saw you undressed today!" Only in Italy, we decided, would a waiter be so indiscreet and unselfconscious!
We compared ages and found that we were all virtually the same age. (We agreed that we are not getting any younger but didn't care.) We got through two bottles of wine between us and I felt no pain at all as I walked back up the hill to bed.


I was becoming bored with sitting painting on the beach at Positano, though I reminded myself that I would look back in amazement at this statement after being back home in England for a few days. So on Monday 23rd I decided to get the bus to Amalfi and then up to Ravello. My plan was to go into the shop that had shown an interest in my work last October and see if the owner was there.

Folio in hand, I set off. I had forgotten what a beautiful road it is between Praiano and Amalfi. With the sea on your left all the way, you pass fantastically formed stacks jutting out into the sea, deep gullies (as at Furore, the next town after Priano) and the entrance to the Grotta dello Smeralda, a spectacular hollow in the coast line with a lift down to the caves below. You can go there by boat, too. I haven't done this because it really is too much of a tourist trap for my liking in the summer, but today it looked beautiful from above, the sea deep bottle green and purple in the shadows. I tried some photographs but without breaking my journey and getting out of the bus I couldn't achieve a good result. I resolved that when I came back in June I would explore that part of the coast road with my camera and sketch book.

At Amalfi I changed buses and was entertained by the beginning of World War III between a Geman and an Englishman about who should get on to the bus first. I was sitting smugly in a seat when this blew up. It got quite physical and the bus driver had to intervene - I felt rather ashamed for my compatriot, who seemed to be seriously over-reacting to the situation. (He calmed down when the German had to get off anyway because there wasn't room for the whole of the party that he was travelling with.)

The ride up to Ravello was even more spectacular than I remembered, even though it was a slightly hazy day. The road winds up the edge of a deep gorge. Looking down, you can see houses and chapels perched on ledges in the valley - I always wonder at the logistics of building in such terrain.

Above Amalfi are three villages - Pontone, which you can reach on foot by walking up from Amalfi; Scala, a peaceful unspoilt place where last year I took my favourite wedding photo ever when the bus stopped outside the church one day; and Ravello, very pretty, full of flowers, sophisticated restaurants and hotels and two lovely mediaeval villas with gardens overlooking the sea, many metres below them, the Villa Rufolo and the Villa Cimbrone. There is a pretty piazza with the Cathedral dedicated to S. Pantone, and the church and library of San Francesco is up the hill on the way to the Villa Cimbrone. This is the view of the Villa Rufolo looking back from that street..... The tower is the watchtower that I painted last October, when the creeper that grows up it was turning to shades of crimson and gold.





Having visited the shop in the via San Francesco and been told by Nicoletta that the owner would be there on Wednesday afternoon, I went on up the hill, intending to visit the Villa Cimbrone again. As I passed Villa Maria on my left, I glanced into the terrace and saw a fantastic view that took in Pontone and Scala and another settlement whose name I don't know yet. The view stretched right across the terraced mountainsides to the sea. The horizon was hidden in the haze.


I decided that this would be my subject for today and went and chose a table next to the railings of the terrace. The place was almost deserted and I was impressed to find that the waiters were tactful enough to let me start drawing without insisting that I commit myself to even a cup of coffee.

After a while I asked for the menu and ordered some delicious pasta (borboni) and a glass of wine. Music was put on at midday - a medley of Mozart and other popular classics - so restful!. I had the most relaxing and enjoyable day and completed two A3 ink drawings which will be the basis (together with photos) for an oil painting. I met a very friendly Danish couple at the next table, who were camping nearby, and at their request gave them my card - I didn't want to sell either drawing until I had used them, so I promised to upload them to my website to let them see them when they go back to Denmark.

I expected the bill to be high - I had a big dish of chocolate ice cream with a fancy flag in the top, and three espressos, as well at the main meal of pasta. But it was only average, and much less than in some much more mediocre restaurants.

Coming back to Praiano, the buses connected, the driver allowed me to get off right outside my hotel - it had been one of those good days!

The weather was becoming hazy and cooler, though it was still pleasant. On Tuesday I decided to go back to Positano for the last time on this trip (I wanted to go back to Ravello on Wednesday and would be flying home on Thursday).



Walking into Vettica I took some photos of the model village that an artist has set up under the rocks at the Grotta del Diavolo. These little installations are a common sight in the Amalfi area and the notice that accompanies this one speaks of the democratic right of the artist to set up his work in the natural surroundings of his homeland - or I think that's what it says. The model layouts always include the church. In this one it is tucked behind a special gate at a slight remove from the main model. Passers by usually stop to peer in reverently.

I caught the bus to Positano without problems and got off at the stop nearest to Sorrento, where I knew I could buy a very reasonably priced mozzarella and ham roll for lunch. I found another alternative route down to the beach area, avoiding the road entirely and descending past the pastel washed houses and wrought iron balconies on the other side of the beach, nearer to the jetty where the Capri and Sorrento ferries dock. I took photographs as I went, planning the collage that I might make with the prints, to form the basis for a painting.


I came out on the beach near the other big cafe-restaurant there, Le Tre Sorelli. I realised that I had become a local character, temporarily, when the waiters there greeted me and asked me what I was painting today. (I have never eaten there or spoken to any of them before. I think that my "English lady" hat has a lot to do with this status. I wear it to protect my hair from fading in the sun and it has become something of a trademark, I think). There was a cry of "Jan! Lovely to see you" and there was Lynn, looking very chic, with several shopping bags from her trip round the boutiques. We agreed to meet that evening at the Continental. For the rest of the day I intended to draw and Lynn was in shopping mode.



For this last day in Positano I tried again to encapsulate the extraordinary heap of Moorish style buildings that is the town of Positano as seen from the beach. The artists of Positano have found ways of doing this and perhaps it's unwise, as well as unnecessary, for me to attempt to do it. Nevertheless, I laboured for two or three hours over an ink drawing in my sketch book, reasoning that the more familiar I become with the problem, the greater my chances of pinning it down. But it didn't happen for me, not this time.




I said "a' rivederci" to Pasquale, Andrea and Domenico as they painted on the piazza outside the Buco di Bacca. Pasquale told me that he would help me to arrange the exhibition by taking me to the framer's and art suppliers when I come back in June. Then I went up to the Galleria Miniaci to say goodbye to Connie. She was finishing her day and offered me a lift back to Praiano. I accepted gratefully.

It was still early evening when I got back to Vettica Praiano and the soft haze hid the horizon. The church of San Gennaro stood against the haze, opposite the stop where I had often waited for the bus. I realized that I had not properly explored San Gennaro and I took the few steps down towards the sea that brought me to the Piazza San Gennaro, a wide platform in front of the church, perched above the sea. The piazza was full of families and young people, playing football and chatting in the twilight. It was too dark for a good photograph. I had neglected the most important view in Praiano. I would have to correct this huge oversight in June.

I went up to the Trattoria San Gennaro which is between the road and the church. Its small terrace has tables that overlook the sea and also the roof of the church. It's in a lovely position, on eye-level with the carvings and tiles, with the green and yellow dome just above. Another mental note - drawing here would be an interesting project. I had a supper of anchovies and a salad which was reasonably priced but rather oily, then walked back, feeling very tired.

Wednesday 25th April was my last full day in Italy for a while. It was Liberation Day, a bank holiday. Not a good day to travel but I wanted to go to Ravello again in case Nicoletta, in the gallery in the via San Francesca, had been right when she said that the patrone would be there today. It did seem unlikely and in the event he was not. The weather was unsettled and the buses were crammed with passengers. Arriving in Amalfi to pick up the connection to Ravello, I saw that there was almost no queue, so I had obviously just missed a bus. I went down on the beach, with the bus queue in sight, and settled down to sleep in the interval of sunshine that broke through the cloud. An hour later I surfaced to see a queue of respectable length had formed for the Ravello bus and as I went to join it the bus turned up.

I was disappointed that the owner of the gallery was not there, and disillusioned with Ravello which looked almost tawdry on the bank holiday. The piazza was crowded with day trippers and the gift shops all seemed to be full of the same decorated ceramic ashtrays and limoncello glasses. (Nevertheless, there are some beautiful things made in glass and ceramic in Italy, which sell at very high prices and are to be found in the shops away from the main piazza in Ravello.)





It was only about 3pm but I was tired and decided to cut my losses, go home and pack for my flight next day. I waited only a short time for a bus, then two came along - very unusual in Ravello, I thought. The bus I was on then passed two more parked by the roadside in Scala and picked up the driver of the other bus that had arrived with ours - he had parked his bus too. At a guess, this strategy was to bring all the buses up to Ravello ready for the exodus at about 5.30, when everyone would be going home down the hill to Amalfi.




This is the view from the bus stop in Ravello.....




I was surprised and grateful when the driver of the bus from Amalfi to Praiano, which connected immediately I got off the Ravello bus, let me on. It was so packed that I had to stand on the step into the bus and was almost leaning on his driving arm for a few stops. I regard the bus drivers of the Amalfi Coast as heroes, especially on bank holidays.

In the evening I walked down the hill to the hotel where I had met Lynn and Penelope. Penelope had finished her business with Capriart and gone back to Surrey. Lynn was in Praiano until Saturday, then she was taking the train to Florence via Salerno. We spent the evening with the brothers who own the pensione and two German ladies, long-term patrons of the pensione and friends of the brothers. We had a conversation in English, Italian and German about a number of matters, including as I remember, art, the Norman conquest of England and the phiology of the English language. As none of us (especially I) was an expert in either history or philology, this was only possible through the lubrication of the excellent white wine. It was a good evening to round off my trip and I said goodbye with regret.

My trip home next day was uneventful. Now my work begins.


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About Me

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Like a butterfly emerging painfully in several stages I've morphed a few times in my life, from art student to teacher, from rebellious confused twenty-something to faithful wife and well-meaning mother, from bored middle-aged art teacher to egocentric freethinking Italophile and painter. For the last few years I've been writing poetry and painting, drawing illustrations for my own work and other peoples's, and sharing as much of my time as possible with Donall Dempsey, the Irish poet who has owned my heart since I met him in 2008. We've spent working holidays together since then, writing, painting and enjoying ourselves and each other's company in a variety of places from New York to Bulgaria. We visit the Amalfi Coast in Italy every year, on a pilgrimage to the country that that I believe saved my life from sterility and pointlessness back in 2004. I'm looking forward to a happy and creative last third of life - at last I believe I've found the way to achieve that. I have paintings to sell on my website, www.janwindle.com, and books and prints at www.dempseyandwindle.co.uk. But I'll keep on writing and painting whether or not they find a market!