Chicago, a destination where I finally stood before the awe-inspiring sculptures of Picasso, Miro, and Calder. The fulfillment of a long-held desire, the vibrant red hues of Calder's creation, the dreamy forms of Miro, and the artistic genius of Picasso left me utterly enchanted. Sketching away, I couldn't be happier to have experienced these masterpieces in person!
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
Photos: Joanna Gniady
A long-held desire of mine was to witness the grandeur of Hopper's Nighthawks in person. I get it, it's become a bit of a cliché, popping up on umbrellas, mugs and even face masks all over. But there's an undeniable allure to it—a poetic quality, a mesmerizing emotion that keeps drawing me in. And there's a personal soundtrack, too; Coltrane's A Love Supreme always accompanies my mental exploration of the painting.
Finally, the moment arrived at the Art Institute of Chicago. Standing face-to-face with the painting, I couldn't resist the urge to step into its world, to absorb the atmosphere and perhaps enjoy an imaginary cup of coffee. I had envisioned it as this massive artwork, the characters almost life-sized. However, reality painted a different picture—it was small, intimate, and oh-so-beautiful. Funny how our mind's eye can sometimes magnify the art we adore.
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
Photos: Joanna Gniady
Working at night and music discoveries? They're my jam! Ever had a song on loop until you've memorized every beat? That's me! And when my people share their top tracks, it's like getting a musical high-five!
By the by, I crafted an emoji—heart ears!
Yesterday, I stumbled upon "Gatsby" by Joan as a Policewoman. I’m passing it on to you as a little musical gift! Enjoy!
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
Sarah Bernhard has been my fin de siècle inspiration, popping up in literature, art, and even my past adventures—like that time I sent a tour guide into a spin at Père Lachaise Cemetery just by asking about her grave.
Fast forward to the present: Petit Palais in Paris hosts an entire exhibition dedicated to this icon! It was like stumbling upon a treasure trove, with her portraits, shoes, dresses, and sculptures drawing crowds like bees to honey. Finally, she gets the recognition she deserves!
Ah, and just look at this bat in her hair!
Sarah Bernhard, Et la femme créa la star / Petit Palais, Paris, 14 April 2023 to 27 August 2023
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
There is no summer without watching a sublime short film Du côté de la côte (1958) by Agnès Varda.
This cinematic gem is an indispensable part of my June ritual, and despite knowing it almost by heart, it never fails to mesmerize me with its hidden treasures - new details, stunning color and pattern combinations, and witty observations that unveil themselves with every viewing.
It makes me smile, it makes me dream, it gives so much inspiration.
Here are three illustrations I created une canicule nocturne to celebrate its beauty.
Ah, and this quote.
The carnival burns. The earth shakes. The sun goes mad. The water takes its shape. The carnival is dead, silence is golden. Silence as an answer to so many questions, to volcanoes, to swirls. Eden exists. It is a dawn. Eden exists, it is an island. Heaven was a beach, and a pine cone. But the nostalgia of Eden is a garden. (...)
These are fake Eves, fake Adams, fake Cupids, misleading Venuses, fake caves and fake nymphs. Reveries are shared, but not the garden. The fake Eden is not for us, neither is Eden.
And worse, the summer season comes to an end.
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
“The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?”
The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera (1929-2023)
Please meet Elisabeth Stuart (1596-1612), reine de Bohême who greets the guests of the exhibition Des cheveux et des poils at Musée des Arts Decoratifs in Paris.
This painting is one of my favs in the whole show. Nothing special at first sight, a typical portrait from the XVII century. But look closer, at Elisabeth's earring. Yes, it's a lock of hair - the lovelock!
In the late XVI and early XVII century England the lovelock was a fashionable way to display a lock of hair belonging to a loved one. The lock was worn as an earring, usually on the left side, where the heart is.
How cool is that?
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
Today I spent some time with Serge Gainsbourg, looking at his manuscripts, his books, and even personal belongings such as iconic sunglasses or shoes.
There are a lot of Serge's songs I listen to at my studio but this one, even if it's very popular and commercial, always make me smile. I love the video, the young Jane, the seductive whispers... I just love everything about this song.
Btw. don't miss the exhibition Le mot exact at the Centre Pompidou, it's très charmante, comme SG lui même.
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
And here are some more pics from the exhibition.
Photos: Joanna Gniady
In the realm of artistic exploration, a delightful surprise awaited me today as I delved into the masterful works of the German painter, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. I stumbled upon Maskentanz (1928-29), a painting I've never seen before. Right away it made me think about my Ciklopo series. It's so perfect, how I wish I painted it, oh my!
Bisou bisou, Jo
Image source: Wikimedia
Frida again in Paris. The last time I saw her paintings at Orangerie and, to be honest, I’m not a big fan of her art. I'm even scared of it.
But the exhibition at Palais Galliera is much different.
Lots of Khalo’s personal things like dresses, jewelry, corsets, shoes or cosmetics.
Very intimate and touching.
What I love about Frida are her portraits with a cigarette. And this is my quick drawing, created in bed, during a wonderful Parisian grasse matinée.
Bisou bisou, Jo 🖤
Photos: Joanna Gniady
Recently, during my customary ritual of reading old French newspapers, I stumbled upon some advertisements showcasing one of Paris' most renowned cabarets - Folies Bergère. These captivating finds ignited my imagination to such an extent that I felt compelled to recreate them through my own drawings. Whenever I pass by the stunning golden Art Deco facade of Folies, my mind drifts to thoughts of the delightful dancers and the wonderfully peculiar stage sets that adorned the shows of les années folles.
Oh, the sheer magic it would be to travel back in time and experience the splendor of those magnificent spectacles once again!
Bisou bisou, Jo
If you asked me to pick a favorite painter, this month it's unquestionably Edvard Munch. Well, he's always been one of my all-time favorites, sitting high on a long list of artistic legends. But right now, I'm completely obsessed by him, thanks to the incredible exhibition of his masterpieces at the Musée d'Orsay in Paris.
Standing before his paintings, previously admired only through the pages of heavy art books, is an experience beyond words. I devoured every meticulous detail, each brushstroke and burst of color - those unexpected pops of purple scattered throughout - all while pondering his life, his loves, and his wild, decadent mood swings.
And later, in "my" Montmarte cafés I was reading his poetic journals, trying to get to know him even better, in even more intimate way.
Here is one beautiful excerpt, that made me immediately think about Two Human Beings (The Lonely Ones) - one of the most intense paintings at the exhibition.
Bisou bisou, Jo
I am giving her the light summer evening
soft beauty—over her I pour
the splendor of the vanishing sun
—over her hair—over her
face over her white dress—
shimmering gold—
I am placing her against the booming
blue of the sea—with the shore’s
bending snake-like lines—
In this manner she is leaving him
—who still comprehends nothing
but as in dreams feels
her drawing away
—He is standing amidst
blood red flowers—in the
deep blue clouds of evening—
He does not understand exactly
what is going on—
But even when she has disappeared
over the sea
he feels how a few
fine threads of her hair
are still fast in his
heart—it bleeds—and burns
like an everlasting open sore
(The Private Journals of Edvard Munch. We are flames which pour out of the earth.
Edited and translated by J. Gill Holland)
Photos: Joanna Gniady
