A piece of Russian Soul in the Old Town Gdańsk

 Last Friday my friend moved out. Although, sadly enough, it is one friend less in Gdańsk, she made me familiar with a place that - surprisingly - warmed up the winter air with some Slavic tunes.

It started in the usual way:

- Have you bought the gift for A.? - I heard the question.
- Yes. I answered. I hope it will suit her elegant sense of taste...
- Me too. It's not diamonds, but its a cute gift ...- she sighted. We compared A. to Charlotte from Sex in the City already many times, but we love her anyway.  - Where do we meet with A. actually? 
- Ee... not sure.... I think it was Piwna. Piwna - the Beer - Street 56/57. - I really struggled to recall it..


-  Don't talk to me streets. What's the name of the place? 

- Eee.. cafe ...bar ... club or pub. Maybe cafeteria? I do know! Something ridiculously ordinarily impossible to remember.... !

She googled. Of course. The OLD GDANSK Beer Pub & Cafe. Aaaaa....  now we were home.

It is on the right (not in the picture!!! :D)

Before A. joined us, that cosy place of The OLD GDANSK cafe filled up with some people. I like the arrangement there. Like many other places in the Old Market of Gdansk, it was styled to refer to the Hanzeatic history of the city - lots of wood, visible brick on the walls, illustrations of ships and, last but not least, beautiful piano in the corner. Because I have a thing for history, no wonder I liked it. It was one of those kind of places that you go with someone who is not twenty any more or when you wish to listen music live with glass of wine or where you can meet elderly Germans who sip their wine, coffee or beer in the Sunday morning and say with smile "so schööön" (so beautiful here... of course don't take me wrong here. I like German language a lot and know too many German people in all age to be able to tell you - they really love to sit somewhere and reflect about the  beauty of moment it is happening to them now. I have found it always cute and funny at the same moment!)

Another plus - the waiters were male, polite and handsome! Why should I complain?
We took some czech or russian beer and waited for A. To be honest, she is the master when it comes to finding interesting events at no or little price. Indeed. No entry fee. The live music of Julia  Vikman Band was quite a surprise for me. Although we knew next to nothing about it before, apart from that it is going to be live - we sat just in front of band and waited. Soon there were more people coming. Polish mixed with Russian in the air. A lamp lighted up in my head. Aha - Russian lyrical music. Great! I love it. 


[Link to their website here or directly www.juliavikman.com - there is a playlist to find as well].


I couldn't resist sketching. 

Colours added later.

These type of events always brings to my mind my Russian and Ukrainian friends. One of them - another sketching girl  - I have met just last month (Click); two others tried to teach me Russian language last year. Admittedly, they served me all the Russian and Ukrainian music that suits rather for parties than a chilled evening with friends. Nonetheless, Julia Vikman managed to touch the right strings in my soul.

I call it Slavic soul - that level of understanding between cultures that is shared within the people of Slavic origin. Inexpressible. You drink together, you talk, you start to feel the connection. With Ukrainians, with Russians, with Slovenians, with Serbs. It doesn't matter. If you are Slavic, you do.

With music of Julia Vikman you feel it even stronger as she presents her interpretations of both Polish and Russian songs. Really climatic.
Unexpectable intercultural meeting.

My phone battery was dead that evening, but A. made a joke of me and took a picture of the saxophonists and me - YES, EXCHANGING the contacts - nothing else.

Thanks guys for playing. It was a pleasure :)!

What should I see in Paris?

When I got to Paris last time, I heard a sight of relief from my Russian-French friend - that's good, it is not your first time in Paris. He showed me that map and I understood immediately what was in his mind...

Paris. Source: Flickr (click)

 

The map above puts into perspective the open source data (mostly from various phones' apps). It presents the places of the highest popularity by two groups of people. Locals and tourists. 

 

Do you see those blue and red spots separated from each other? This explains why there are actually two cities in the very same Paris. In red are marked placed that are highly popular within tourists; in blue are favourite areas of locals; in yellow are those spots that are frequently visited by both - tourists & locals.  As you see, they rarely mix and there is not too many places that are in yellow. No wonder that finding a common language with a tourist, might be quite a challenge for a local Pierre!

 

 

[If you are interested in the other cities, go to the flickr link or check out many other statistical variability in www.openstreetmap.org ]

 

Local tourist?

 

What a pity that I found that map so late! My first days in Paris were a little disappointing - I saw everywhere tourists and asked myself - where real people live? Then, I tried to find my private way of checking, whether the area is rather local or already conquered by tourists.

 

 

 

This picture is a giant bird feeder (+ a piece of song of Oasis Songbird). Although I completely mixed up the perspective here (I blame for this the freezing temperature >_<), my humble presence next to the subway station Pont-Cardinet, not far away from Monceau, made people interested. They stopped and asked what do I do or commented how tres jolie this sketch is.

 

Although I was surprised of that interest  (Paris is full of artists!), I merci-beaucouped politely and kept with jeneparlepafrancaising modestly. If there was a moment I regretted not speaking French, that was exactly when an elderly lady asked me whether I am from Espagne and started to talk, talk and talk, looking at me while sketching. She was so lovely.

 

 

 

When I gave a longer thought to this (and asked friends certainly too), it turned out that the Square de Batignolles  (where I sketched) is not really a place which many artists choose, not to mention tourists. My pleasure! There is a beautiful park over there and the biggest bird feeder I have ever seen in my life. Sketching was irresistible and I wished it was spring!

 

Cok güzel, madame!

 

Paris. Montmartre from far away. In foreground - Le Figaro guarded by the police.

 

Completely different impression I have from Montmartre. The place that I love to come back when in Paris and that could hardly be considered purely local! It is a bit of shame to admit, that the view on and from the hill with Basilica of the Sacré Cœur I find really exciting. I promised to myself I will go and sketch there! So this time, I finally did.

 

 

Basilica of the Sacré Cœur, Montmartre, Paris.

 

 

My love to that district started last year with a bottle of my favourite Cabarnet-Savignon, just on the top of the hill. With my friend I was delighted to see the artists' Mecca where they sketch and paint for money or fun. No wonder that this is THE place for sketchers and painters. Many artists used to choose Montmarte for their place to live and work - Auguste Renoir, Claude Monet, Salvador Dali, Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Toulouse-Lautrec, Edgar Degas, Francis List  or more recently Woody Allen, who directed there Tout le monde dit I love you ( Everyone Says I love you). Also the Polish composer Fryderyk Chopin used to live there - of course I couldn't miss a chance to go there! 

 

 

One of many portrait painters on the top of Montmartre hill

 

Whereas the top of the hill may be crowdy sometimes, the bottom has also its charm that makes this area one of my favourite so far. Whenever I pass the subway stations of Anvers, Blanche or Abbesses I cannot resist warm feelings towards their beautiful art nouveau style that I love to look for whenever I travel; the quite big number of African people living nearby makes it also less posh and more alive than the typical French-style districts. This is how I come back to this touristic place over and over again.

 

I decided to finally sketched the basilic, instead of only drinking wine from the top and cherishing the beautiful view on the city of Paris. While sketching, I managed to come to one fundamental conclusion:

 

 

How to realise you are in touristic place

[if you happen to be a sketcher]

 

 

WinTer! No comparison... my phone camera prefers daylight.

 

 

****

- Un espresso, s'il vous plait.

- Madame.

 

(You get your tiny cup of coffee and almost fall down from a chair while checking the price on the bill).

 

****

 

A family with dad mum and teeny children passes by:

 

- Cok cok güzel! (chok-konosh-karm-misimi-miyour-sen-pam-ta-dam-in Turkish)

 

- Tesekkür ederim, but I don't speak Turkish. English?

 

- English.... aaa..... sooo beautifjiul... Can I take a photo?

 

****

 

- Madame, tres jolie (mohn-pom-pam-ba-pa-bam in French)

 

- Merci beaucoup (my desperate look)....Parlez-vous pa anglais?

 

- Oh, oui, oui... It is very beautiful. Really beautiful.... I am also artist myself, but I do portrays, not buildings. - then he added

 

- ... but madame, take phone from the table. You know... take your phone ...

 

[yeah.. He gave me a very nice advice actually. Don't talk to people there who want to sell you something, show altruistically or give you petition to sign up. You know - just do not do it there]

 

****

 

The worse touristic place you can recognise without speaking French.

 

You sit. You sketch. You look carefully at your objects. A couple comes to you.

Look at your sketch. They smile. They take out the camera and ask:

 

- Could you please take a picture of us?

(after my angry look I heard at Moulin Rouge dubious...)

 

- ... nno?... ok.. sorry...

 

 

 

 

 

For the first time I mixed my usual rotring rapidograph with a fountain pen. (LAMY) Reason was - it was sooooo cold and I needed there black background quickly! Nonetheless, watery effect is something what I didn't like. If you look a bit longer, you may guess where I have started. One of my friends, who is architect),wondered that I sketch from the top to the bottom without doing shapes or something. Well, I find it easier. That evening it was really freezing, so no wonder. The more down you go on the sketch, the less details you get >__<. Hopefully I can repeat it one (sunny summer) day and focus more on the bottom. 

 

 ***

 

My friend asked me recently:

 

- I go to Paris next week. You have just come back - so... what should I see?

- Is that your first time in Paris? - I answered without thinking. (Really)

 

People say Louvre, Champs-Élysées, Triumph Arc, Eiffel Tower. Of course, go there if you haven't seen it yet. However, don't forget to come back there for longer than a weekend and check out everything else that locals tell you- that is just as much interesting as la belle époque memorials filled with tourists. Promise!

Nonetheless, I answered:

 

- Go to Montmartre. It's impressive, also in winter. Climb up the hill, cherish the view and watch out your phone!

 

 

October in Montmartre.

 

 

 

 Ps. Great thanks go to  Evgueni for introducing me to the fascinating world of open sourced data :)! 

 

 

 

 

 



#Paris: Tribute to Charlie Hebdo

 

#JeSuisCharlie ©thatgirlwithasketchbook

 After 7th of February 2015 and the massacre in the redaction of the satire magazine Charlie Hebdo, not only sketchers and journalists where shocked. Two weeks after the tragedy, I wondered whether the city still remembers ...

#NousSommesCharlie

Answer was obvious. Behind the glass windows of most of bookstores and many other places, the white letters on the black were visible from afar. In most of the newspaper stores, Charlie is sold out . Nonetheless, their books are quite easy to find. Limited editions. For a decent price. Of course.



Charlie Hebdo, bookstore vitrine next to Place de Clichy
©thatgirlwithasketchbook

©thatgirlwithasketchbook

# Saving Paris

It seems that the French took that warning really serious. The gendarmerie secured entrances to the flats, schools and synagogues in the area, where I stayed that is also popular within Jewish community. For such pacifist as me these views where none of pleasure. Soldiers in the black berets on their heads walked around the streets with the guns in their hands. Of course it was not an army, but such a distinct amount that you cannot simply ignore their existence.

I couldn't help some shiver, particularly when I entered subway station, accompanied by a group of about thirty young men with their rifles just on the level of my stomach! Or when I took a velib bike and saw another bunch of armed men in front of the entrance to Le Figaro.

I asked some French friends about their opinions about this, but they were not elaborative, as if there was nothing else to do than silently accept and mourn. Of course we do not like it, but what can we do.


Top left: Synagoge not far away from Saint Paul, Top right: Louvre, Down: subway.
©thatgirlwithasketchbook





# Freedom of speech, freedom to devastate

 On the last day, I decided to take a walk to the famous Place de la Republique where most of the demonstrations took place. On the huge pedestal stands a huge statue of Marianne - with that name is traditionally called French Republic, goddess of Liberty. Two accompanying her women - Equality and Fraternity - fulfil the metaphor of Republic, together with symbolic olive branch (peace) and tablet inscribed with Droits de l'Homme (Human Rights).

Quick look at the statue is enough to realise why exactly there, most of the demonstrations after the massacre took place. Liberty, Equality and Fraternity were devastated and abused by the freedom of speech of demonstrators. Plenty of doodles, scribbles and stickers add dubious splendour to the monument until the Paris will stop mourning. Will be the cleaning of the monument also a political statement or simple care of the urban aesthetics?

Under the monument people leave flowers, candles, caricatures. Voices are lowered, walk slowlier, sketchers enter the area of sacrum.

I sat on the bench next to the Republique meditating about these guys who died for their love for sketching cartoons and wicked sense of humour, that not many people actually cared about. Apart from those dangerous once. I wish there were more serious reasons to die.

While I was sketching, some passer-by looked behind my arm, someone else commented silently with some respect in his voice (another time I regretted my ignorance if it comes to speaking French).

And what struck me, is.... sitting in front of the monument of almost sacral virtue that is  Liberty, personalised as a woman, I kept thinking about male god, male picture of mahomet, followed by another group of male soldiers or terrorists on the streets, who kill or secure male sketchers and male satirists ... At the same moment all French-speaking women from the area nearby - Asian, Kaukasian, African or Arabic - take their kids to school and cook dinners for their husbands and do not want fathers or mothers of their son's colleagues to die. Guess how much people in France believe in islam? How many of them are kids and women?

Let me be cynical and feminist at this moment with my sketch of this.

-Farma, weźmy chłopców do zoo.
- Jeszcze nie nauczyli się jak się bawić ołówkami i  pistoletami.

[Answer: 7,5% of French society is muslim, around 4,5 mln people.

It is less than annual number of visitors in Paris Disneyland that is over 10 mln.]