Events

JACQUELINE BRICARD’S “REGARD NAÏF EUROPÉEN” EXHIBITION EXTENDED THROUGH DECEMBER

There were just a few paintings still to hang when I left Lourmarin in late September. Before departing—and two days before the opening--I popped by to see Jacqueline Bricard, proprietor of the naïf art gallery bearing her name and curator of the “Regard Naïf Européen” exhibition. She was in the midst of the usual frenzy entailed in the preparations for a large exhibition...
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WHO’S THE FACE BEHIND “LOURMARIN, LOURMARIN”?

If you follow what’s happening in Lourmarin, the charming village at the southern base of the Luberon where the Manfull family has been hanging their hats for many years, you’ve no doubt seen something about “Lourmarin, Lourmarin.”  Have you wondered what “Lourmarin, Lourmarin” is?  Earlier this year, it started popping up on FaceBook and Instagram and I, for one, wondered what it...
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MARC CHAGALL AT THE CARRIÈRES DE LUMIÈRES: EXTRAORDINARY

The Carrières de Lumières defy description.  One could say (aptly) that it is a multi-media extravaganza—about 100 projectors casting 3,000 images on walls as high as 14 meters, spilling onto the ceiling and the floor, and choreographed perfectly with music ringing out from about 25 speakers strategically placed within the 5,000 square meters of a former limestone quarry certainly qualifies as fantastic...
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“WHO’S AFRAID OF PETER MAYLE?”

We—or rather those of us of a certain age—grew up asking ourselves "who's afraid of the big bad wolf" and later, as adults, were compelled to ask the same question about Virginia Woolf. I've never had the occasion to pose the question about Peter Mayle, internationally known English author of a long list of wildly popular books about Provence, most notably A Year In Provence, and recipient of many honors, including the prestigious Chevalier de la Légion d'Honneur (Knight of the Legion of Honor)...
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PROVENCE ROSÉ: TASTING AND TRAVEL NOTES FROM “PROVENCE IN THE CITY 2014”

Provence—today, the very word conjures up images of sipping rosé: on the beaches of the Côte d’Azur, by the pool of a handsome mas nestled into the garrigue-covered hills in the Luberon, in outdoor cafés along Cours Mirabeau in Aix-en-Provence, with bouillabaisse in Marseille’s vieux port, and, for some folks, in yachts docked at St. Tropez. Mon dieu, rosé was born in Provence and, well, bred there
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