An Unconventional Holiday Tree

Holiday Branch with Lights and Poinsettias (interior)

Natural Branch with Fusion Glass and Resin, 44" x 83"

'Tis the Holiday Season and I have been side-tracked from getting back to the studio and working on a series of paintings based on my Morocco Holiday! I thought that you might enjoy these images of "Branch," a sculpture that I did last summer from an actual tree branch (please see the August 28 "Winter 2009" post). Now I present "Branch" brought inside and dressed up with lights to add some drama to my living room during these festive times.

Branch (exterior)

Just to refresh your memory here is "Branch" again as it looked last spring in the garden. I think that it made the transition quite effortlessly, don't you?

Back From Morocco

Sketching at the Sofitel Marrakech

Watercolor on paper, 11" x 8.5"

This was one of my last memories of Morocco. It was the afternoon before we were to fly back home and I spent it taking some "free time" around the pool at our hotel. We had been on a whirlwind tour with no time for me to do any sketching, so I wanted to get one en plein air piece of art in at the last minute. I find that this is a way for me to distill the mass of new information by focusing on a scene and trying to make it distinctive of the foreign land I have been in for two weeks. The lanterns hanging from the trees as well as the white-washed walls and lush vegetation are distinctive of Marrakech in particular.

Shoulder Drawing with Overlay from Michelangelo's Notebook

Pastel and conte crayon on board, 17" x 14"

Now I am in the studio and I have projects that need to be completed before I can start on my Morocco Newsletter. Six weeks before going on vacation I had surgery on my left hand (luckily I am right-handed). My surgeon, Dr. Louis Catalano, has "worked" with me before as he repaired my torn rotator cuff in 2006. I think of our relationship as a collaboration as he fixes my broken body parts and I process the experience into artwork. He embraces my desire to make a visual record by sharing information and images that intrigue me and I show my appreciation by creating a work of art.

New Hand

Oil painting on canvas, 12" x 12"

This time around I did the painting above to celebrate my new hand and I created an iBook for Dr. Catalano with the images of hands from various paintings and drawings that I have done as well as from famous artists. What do you think of when you picture an iconic artistic image of the human hand? See my answer below.

"Images with Multiple Meanings"

Cat and Mouse, oil painting on canvas

Cat and Mouse (detail of cat/bouquet)

In preparation for my November trip to Morocco, I have been reading about Muslim culture and I was struck by their commonly held belief, even today, that households are inhabited by an invisible fraternity of spirits called Jinns. They are mentioned in the Qur'an and can be a force for good or evil, but are almost always causing mischief.

Perhaps this is the reason I felt the urge to animate the objects in this still life painting that has become an interaction of the personalities between the cat/bouquet and the mouse/lamp.

Since I am committed to this approach, I have been working to reinforce these "hidden" images in a subtle way so that they merely flicker and lend an element of instability and energy to the composition. I have added eyes, ears, a nose and the hint of a mouth to the bouquet but kept the cat/table shadow against the wall a little off kilter so that the illusion is dependent on viewer participation.

Cat and Mouse (detail of mouse/lamp)

The same is true of the mouse/lamp. I pushed the similarity I originally saw between the fanciful shape of the art nouveau lamp and Mickey Mouse. The lamp base took on a shape more suggestive of Mickey's Buster Brown shoes and I added a faint reflection of his trademark ears in the mirror. But I stopped short of cartooning the image, leaving the viewer to discover these touches on his own.

Now I guess I should decide if I will give away the "game" with the title. Maybe I can come up with something less obvious. Any suggestions?

Working in this genre I stand on the shoulders of the past masters who excelled in painting enigmas, ambiguities and double images. Among those artists Giuseppe Arcimboldo, M.C. Escher, and Dali come readily to mind.

Allegory of Summer, Giuseppe Arcimboldo, 1573

In this painting a portrait of a man is made entirely from the produce of summer. These various fruits, vegetables and cereals constitute an image that symbolizes the intensity of man's connection to the fruits of the earth.

L'Image Desparait, Dali, 1938

In this painting, Dali first presents us with the image of a woman reading a letter and then, with a shift of focus, we see the profile of a man with a moustache and beard. Here, as in most of his work, "Dali's images stand still and yet they have something cinematic about them. . . they do not themselves change, but the viewer is forced to transform them."

--The Endless Enigma: Dali and the Magician of Multiple Meaning, written and published by Hatje Cantz.

Drawing Hands, M.C. Escher, 1948

Perhaps the twentieth century master of visual metamorphosis is M.C. Escher who has the ability to transform shapes seemingly in front of our eyes. "To the extent that one image dawns, the other sinks into the fog." --Ibid

"A right hand is busy sketching a shirt cuff upon a piece of paper. At this point its work is incomplete, but a little further to the right it has already drawn a left hand emerging from a

sleeve in such detail that this hand has come right up out of the flat surface as though it were a living member, and it is sketching the cuff from which the right hand is emerging."

--M.C. Escher: The Graphic Work, introduced and explained by the artist, Taschen Publishers

The Bird of Self Knowledge, Anonymous, 18th Century

"It is impossible to paint just one thing. For when I try to paint it, I always get the thing plus that which it is not. The first is impossible; the second is everything."

--Dali

Dialogues Within My Paintings

With my first painting of the fall season I am going to try to record the evolution of "Cat and Mouse." I have been thinking about doing a series of paintings with scenes from various rooms in my home. I consider my house a very large work of art and the way the rooms are designed reflects my artistic eye as well as my life.

Since I begin each day with my bathroom, this is a natural place to start. Looking around I decide on a tableau against one of the walls. There is a corner of one of my paintings, a mosaic table I made from a NYC cast off, a vase of flowers, an Art Nouveau lamp from my time in Belgium and a mirrored dressing table. I love all the shapes and each of the objects have a special meaning for me. I like the arrangement, but is there a painting here?

After several sketches, I take a photo one evening with light coming only from the lamp on the dressing table. Often dramatic lighting will enliven and begin the dialogue between the objects.

Voila! I see the beginning of a painting.

After noodling around with a small thumbnail sketch. I get excited as the shadow of the mosaic table and flowers looks like a crouching cat and the lamp has the personality of a saucy mouse. This is the dialogue that will inspire the rendering of the painting.

I prepare a 37" x 23" canvas and rough in the drawing and some color.

Wow! I realize the next morning that I actually have a small mouse on my dressing table. It is a Harry Potter mouse that someone gave me years ago and I forgot it was there. Is this destiny? I make a few sketches and try to integrate it into the painting.

This ultimately doesn't work because it complicates and disrupts the overall energy of the painting. After a few days of painting, I have a more complex series of color decisions figured out and the dialogue is progressing. Now I will let it rest and allow the under painting to dry so that I can work on top later without disturbing it.

Looking Forward to Fall 2009

Summer Garden, oil painting on copper on fusion glass

During the last four summers I have painted gardens on the east end of Long Island. But this summer I spent a lot of time creating art from my own garden. Interpreting the landscape in my work became less about reality and more about emotion.

In all the examples from previous summers the oil paintings are enclosed in panels of fusion glass that contain snippets of leaves and blossoms on a painted background. Everything in the fusion glass frame comes from the garden depicted in the painting.

Magical Garden, oil painting with fusion glass

“Magical Garden” is bold in its approach to this large and abundant garden in East Hampton. Organizing the myriad plants and trees into a composition that would be faithful to the original and not impossibly busy was a challenge so I opted for a fantasy recreation that imparted the spirit of the scene.

Jack's Gazebo, oil painting with fusion glass

“Jack’s Gazebo” is part of a trio of paintings that I did of a truly bewitching garden in Water Mill. In this scene I wanted to lead the viewer on a walk in the garden in which one peeks around a corner that leads to another intriguing tableau. Here we have the gazebo, partially hidden from view, with just an edge of the chaise visible. One can only guess if there is someone sitting inside, perhaps taking a mid-summer nap. Should we venture closer?

Trees in Summer Heat, oil painting with fusion glass

“Trees in Summer Heat” is a painting that came out of a pastel sketch I made in a moment of flamboyance. Here is a riot of colorful foliage with the various elements crying out in protest to the heat with only the turquoise water of the pool to cool things off. These plants seem frantic with the energy of a summer day.

Wild Things, oil painting with fusion glass

“Wild Things” is a painting from the area around my firebowl. The stacked stone as well as the rocks on the ground are a counterpoint to the joyous colors of the plants. Here you can appreciate the visual dance between the elements of the painting as they swoop and sway with each other. The central image is only part of an oil painting that continues under the frame. On the other side of the double frame tempered glass is glued on top of the continuing image. This is the easiest way to see how I create my fusion glass artwork which is made with glass on top of paintings and then grouted to appear to be mosaic.

Nasturtiums 1, oil painting on panel

“Nasturtiums 1” is the first of several oil paintings that I made recently of some plants I purchased for my decorative pots. I especially loved the legginess of the nasturtiums and was happy to have grabbed the last two left at Lynch’s one afternoon in early July. The dancing lines were inspired by the random marks that I made in my pencil sketches.

Branch with Pond, detail

Sometimes I create something large that imitates the real world, but adds a bit of fantasy as it mixes in with other elements in the garden. This summer my magnum opus was "Branch with Pond" and it involved working in several different mediums as well as collaborating with an excellent iron monger.

The Pond is crafted from styrofoam encased in cement to keep the overall weight of the sculpture manageable. It is covered in a design mimicking water and a darker reflected image of the branch is painted underneath the actual Branch. Finally, the sculpture is encased in fusion glass and resin.

Branch with Pond, underside

The underside of the Pond is covered with traditional mosaics (in earth tones) which have been grouted and sealed with resin. It rests on a stainless steel platform that allows it to sit 2.25 inches from the ground.

Branch with Pond, mixed-media, 32.5" x 23.5" x 45.5"

The Branch is an actual branch from my garden that has been dried and painted to impart a metallic sheen on the underlying texture of wood. There is an insert of mosaic at the base and the entire piece is sealed in resin to protect it from the elements. It is mounted on the Pond using stainless steel dowels imbedded in the wood and glass to hold it steady as it floats just above the surface. Large pieces of ocean glass have been affixed and sealed around the perimeter.

In the photograph you can see how the piece is integrated into the garden by planting ferns at the edges to further enhance the trompe l’oeil effect. This fall I will post photos of it covered in leaves and in the winter I look forward to a "Branch with Pond" surrounded by snow!

Summer 2009

Heirloom Tomatoes From My Garden

Is this a tomato only an artist could love? Heirloom tomatoes have a taste that is the essence of summer, but they are some of the ugliest tomatoes on the shelf according to market standards. The perfect tomato is genetically engineered to be round, uniformly deep red in color and has a skin tough enough to withstand rough handling, and yet.....

An heirloom tomato is pleasing to me as an artist because it is so outrageously odd. If I take an heirloom tomato as my subject in a painting its irrepressible color forces me to be bold with the entire composition. The fact that they inspire me has a lot to do with my transformation as an artist and the way that I paint today.

Del Monte Botanical, Watercolor

Early in my career as an illustrator I did a series of botanical watercolor paintings for the Del Monte Corporation. I was intrigued by the challenge of making my art look like an antique print done in the style of such masters as Pierre Redoute and Basilius Besler. I was also expected to be scientifically accurate and portray the botanical subjects as they had been engineered by Del Monte.

The difference between the perfect tomato in my botanical painting above and the tomato in Heirloom Supper below represents the evolution that has occurred in my work over the course of my career.. Now, with confidence in my painting technique, draftsmanship and use of color, I have taken a seminal leap and plunged into doing work that chronicles an emotional attachment to my subjects.

Tomato Plant with Pitcher, Oil Painting

Green Tomatoes, Oil Painting

The following will illustrate different ways of portraying the same subject. First, even with the addition of dramatic lighting and a pitcher for decorative interest, the painting Tomato Plant with Pitcher is still a painting of a plant. Second, the close up of my painting Green Tomatoes is less realistic as I have emphasized the odd shape and bloated size of the fruits in contrast to their spindly stems. Although these are both oil paintings they could also be mistaken for photographs.

Heirloom Supper, Oil Painting

The third example Heirloom Supper, is a painting with quite a different approach. I have taken the table setting and the tomatoes as my starting point, but there is no doubt that something else is going on here besides a still life. I am hoping the painting does more than razzle-dazzle you with interesting colors as I tried to set up a narrative using my subjects as a sort of drama. The small tableau is a landscape of emotionally charged elements that retain their sense of normality even with their clashing hues, a combination of strangeness and familiarity.

It is a style that is analogous to the contradictory nature of an heirloom tomato. Even though the tomato sports unusual and brutal colors the fruit inside is heavenly. Try some summer . . .

Simple Heirloom Tomato Tart

1 package frozen puff pastry sheet, defrosted

1 T. extra-virgin olive oil

6 big ripe heirloom tomatoes, thinly sliced

1/4 c. chopped fresh basil

salt and freshly ground pepper

1 cup grated parmesan cheese

Roll out dough to 1/8-inch thickness. Place on cookie sheet and brush with olive oil. Sprinkle half the cheese over dough and place tomato rounds overlapping on top. Add salt and pepper. Bake for 30 minutes in preheated 425 degree oven. Sprinkle remainder of cheese and cook 20 minutes more until brown. Finish with basil and let cool 15 minutes before cutting in serving pieces. Yummy!

Winter 2009

Long Time Friends, Oil Painting

Many evolutionary scientists believe that, without the presence of trees and the great dexterity and hand-eye coordination that was necessary in arboreal life, our ancestor apes wouldn’t have been smart enough to evolve into modern day man. Even if this is not true it isn’t difficult to understand our reverence for trees. They are the largest and oldest living things on earth.

When autumn leaves with their high voltage colors fall victim to the frost of winter, trees stand cloaked only in the armor of their bark and the forest becomes a veritable studio class for the study of tree anatomy. Just as a figurative painter studies human anatomy, the painter of nature must understand the underlying purpose of a tree’s shape in order to faithfully capture its essence. For example: to hold leaves aloft requires enormous strength and to support a horizontal branch a tree must reinforce the point of its connection. Therefore, the branch becomes more oval shaped rather than round where it meets the trunk.

Trees, in every stage of seasonal dress or undress, are the first images to greet me when I wake each morning. Oak and beech trees line my driveway and stand like giant parentheses around my pool. My new seasonal ritual is the harvesting of specimens from my garden, most of which are tree-related.

Unlike the artist Andy Goldsworthy, I have never been a nature purist with my creations. I am an inveterate tweeker. My dolls were the first victims of this propensity, each one sporting a radical change in her original appearance. No hair style, wardrobe or face was exempt from my beautifying hands.

Leaves in a Box, Oil Painting with Collage

Trees Series #2, Oil Painting with Encaustic

Autumn Doodles, Oil Painting under Fusion Glass

As a result, I paint my leaves, dip them in cement and cover them with resin and encaustic while playing my own version of Mother Nature. Aside from being the material for my assemblages (Leaves in a Box) and the models for my paintings (Trees Series #2) the flowers and leaves are often scattered over a painting and then pressed under a layer of my fusion glass (Autumn Doodles).

Growing up in southern California, the trees of my childhood were very different from those on the east coast. One of my earliest tree memories involves a grove of eucalyptus I passed everyday on my walk to and from school. Even now, when I smell their menthol-tinged fragrance, I am transported back to that earlier time and place as if they were Proust’s famous madeleines. For me, eucalyptus trees always conjure up a bittersweet nostalgia for youth and the conflicting emotions of being a teenager.

Wood Elf Dress, Mannequin with Bark and Leaves

When gathering garden treasures timeliness is important. The bark I used on Wood Elf Dress was wrapped around the mannequin while still fresh, otherwise it would have become too brittle.

Branch, Natural Branch with Fusion Glass and Resin

In winter one finds subtle items that are lost amid the lushness of summer and spring. Last December a large branch that had been unnoticed for months at the edge of our woods caught my eye. As the sun came up and cast its sinuous purple shadow on the surrounding snow, I discovered this natural piece of sculpture. Today that branch graces my entryway. Covered in paint, resin and fusion glass, it is another victim of my inevitable tweeking.

Cambodian Temple

Recently I traveled in Cambodia and was astounded by the giant trees among the temples that are both destroying and supporting the ancient structures. Reflecting on man's special relationship with trees in which we are more often the destroyer, I remembered a quote from the poet Saint John Perse saying that "a book is the death of a tree." The creation of my art employs the use of paper, pencils and panels. If that work is worth, I believe it can be a reincarnation for the tree.

Jack's Gazebo, Oil Painting with Fusion Glass Frame

Last summer I painted several paintings for a friend. On the day I delivered my work one of the trees I had painted crashed to the ground, a victim of root-rot. Now Jack’s Gazebo serves as a memorial to a dear friend, an 80 year old weeping maple.

In closing I would like to invite you all to my exhibition, Trees: Branches, Flowers & Leaves, at New Century Artists in New York City from March 17-28, 2009. There will be an opening reception on Thursday, March 19 from 5-8 PM. The gallery is located at 530 West 25th Street, please come!

Spring/Summer 2008

As we headed south toward Saigon along Route 1, "Route of the Mandarins," we got our first glimpse of the Vietnamese countryside. Extensively cultivated, the land was dotted with small villages that passed by in a heartbeat. The lush, green fields were covered with small, family-owned plots planted next to their neighbors in a seemingly haphazard fashion. Their tidy rows, seldom aligned with those adjacent to them, created a veritable quilt of textures and colors. Often on these green quilts of land we saw solitary figures kneeling or bending in arduous postures as they toiled. In one rice field there was a man irrigating his land with two huge watering cans held on a bamboo "don gaha." I promised never to complain about gardening again.

Vietnamese Countryside, Oil Painting

On our first day in Vietnam we drove into Hanoi. I was so overwhelmed by the strangeness of the place that I put away all my preconceived notions of what the country would be like. It was impossible to reconcile the image of the languid French Indochine I had seen in the movies with the chaotic activity and energy I was now confronted with. It was like no other city I had ever visited.

Waves of small motorcycles, mopeds and bicycles surged around our bus and I spotted one cycle carrying a bamboo cage filled with live dogs. Were they soon to be someone’s dinner? Block after block of strange narrow, patched-together buildings huddled over their ground floor commercial enterprises. Cheap, colorful merchandise spilled out onto the sidewalk where people were cooking over open braziers, squatting down for a chat, or even having a manicure. Everywhere life was overflowing. Whole families on a single motorcycle (mothers often carrying children in their arms sitting behind their husbands). Young women, exquisitely dressed in the sexy, clinging bao dai wearing the odd accessories of the commuter (face mask, opera length gloves, head scarves) to protect against the pollution. Each driver, without exception, wore a helmut because It is the Law! and this is not a democracy.

Cafe Quynh on Bat Street, Oil Painting

On a walk through Hanoi’s old quarter, which dates back to the 11th century, we glimpsed the Cafe Quynh on Bat Dan Street with the ubiquitous cycles parked in front. Inside patrons were enjoying the respite of a coffee break because, unlike the rest of tea-drinking Asia, coffee is taken seriously in Vietnam. Could a Starbuck’s be in their future?

Cao Dai Medallion, Fusion Glass

The first hint of more felicitous surprises to come was our sojourn north where we visited the spectacular, James Bond Location-Shoot Extraordinaire -- Halong Bay in the South China Sea. On an overcast day, we motored aboard a Chinese junk between hundreds of small, uninhabited rock and tree covered islands. That night on the ship we dreamt of pirates, magical caves filled with stalagmites and trees alive with fugitive monkeys.

As we turned south heading back to Hanoi, we stopped at a Cao Dai Temple and our eyes experienced a huge transfusion of riotous color after days of muted, dust-covered surroundings. The exuberant tenants of this religion extol the diversity and joy of life, basically including all who wish to follow.

Vietnamese Angel, Tho Ha Village

One of my favorite experiences along the way was our visit to the Tho Ha Village on a river peninsula. All the inhabitants were involved in one enterprise...making rice paper for noodles and spring rolls. Large bamboo paniers covered the rooftops, leaned against walls and canopied overhead bridging the walkways. Children skittered around, laughing and shouting xin chao (hello in Vietnamese). Fortunately, I was able to capture the image of a lovely but shy Vietnamese princess sitting in front of a sheet of rice paper. She was an angel in pink barrettes.

Mekong Delta, Oil Painting

Other stops on our trip, so numerous I cannot mention them all in detail, were: Hue, with its Forbidden City where the king lived at one time; Hoi An, a popular destination with young travelers who gather in the cafes and shop in the vibrant market; Nah Trang, known as the Vietnamese Riviera with a spectacular view of the South China Sea and, just before Saigon, Da Lat, once the summer retreat of the French colonials with scenery straight out of Switzerland.

Flying into Saigon after being in the countryside for almost two weeks was like approaching a vast mystical metropolis. Here the weather was considerably warmer, the city was larger and more varied, but one thing was the same--the unrelenting onslaught of motorcycles. Everyone was outside even in the evenings, escaping their apartments and searching for cooler air. It was just like New York City in August, but it was winter in Saigon!

One day we drove outside the city to visit the Chu Chi Tunnels, a network of underground passages that still surround Saigon. Built during the American War , it allowed the Viet Cong to “pop-up” seemingly out of thin air and terrify the Americans and their allies. We watched a propaganda tape from the war years and, crawling through the passageways, we learned the secrets of the tunnels.

We spent a day on the Mekong Delta with its floating markets and wafer-thin buildings all done in a collection of bizarre architectural styles. Here we touched a honeycomb covered with bees without getting stung, wrapped a cobra around our shoulders and wore it like a shawl, ate an elephant ear fish for lunch (a crispy and delicious sculpture on a stick) and felt again the amazing hospitality of the Vietnamese people.

Our farewell dinner in Saigon began with a lotus flower, its petals folded back, placed at every seat. It was a fitting symbol of the beauty and delicacy we had found in Vietnam. There were tears in our eyes as we said goodbye to our guide Tea who we all adored and who had taught us so much about the country and the people he loves.

Winter 2008

Barge Cruising in France: Each spring the luxury hotel barge "Hirondelle" begins her annual voyages through the charming countryside of Burgundy. Life aboard combines the food, drink and accommodations of a small country inn with the mobility of a well-appointed private yacht. When venturing onto land it is possible to walk along the canal path or visit the numerous small villages, grand chateaux and, of course, award winning vineyards. From the top of the hills one is able to survey the countryside, breathe in the invigorating air and muse on the way in which the land, weather and people of each region in France are responsible for producing their own distinctive wine, food and attitude.

Every six months I will give you a look at what I’ve been working on and organize the material around a theme. By sharing my experience of barge cruising in France I hope to encourage others to explore this delightful mode of travel. This story starts with my friend Marie who had orchestrated an elaborate present for her husband Dan. Their spur of the moment trip to Paris would really be the beginning of a magical week long journey with six friends in celebration of his birthday. To catch him off guard, we waited hidden in the lobby of their hotel...Surprise! Happy Birthday!...then off to the Gare de Lyon and the train to Dijon. Before sunset we were on the deck of the Hirondelle toasting our hosts and our own good fortune for having such generous friends.

As we cruised the Canal de Borgogne we relaxed and completely absorbed the lovely countryside through all of our senses. Each morning we awoke to a beautiful petit dejeuner freshly prepared by our chef Selby. The barge would begin its journey as we ate and later, when we entered one of the many locks, we would jump off and bike, jog or stroll along the canal pathway. Next to each lock was the lock-keepers cottage, often with a lovely garden as you can see in the photograph below.

After lunch we usually visited a vineyard in the Cote d’Or region of Burgundy, where the Pinot Noir wines are produced from that famously difficult grape. We learned about the terroir, a term for the combination of soil, climate and typography, that infuses the wine with a complex taste.

We also visited many chateaux and my favorite was the Chateau de Longecourt, a wonderful 12th century castle just south of Dijon. Our guide was Roland, the Count of Longecourt, whose family has lived there since 1631. The charm of the place was, in large part, due to the ambiance of faded glory as well as the self-effacing nature of the jeans clad Roland. Everywhere I looked there was a still-life worthy of a painting and I captured many on film for later enjoyment. One such scene was of a gathering of overgrown potted plants and crumbing stone work in the corner of the courtyard that is shown below.

My gift to Dan was going to be a visual record of his birthday cruise and, to that end, I had brought a sketch pad, watercolors and pencils. Here you can see the final product that I completed in the studio. The box contains, among other things, some small paintings of the places we visited, the people on the trip and the logo for the outfitters of our cruise: Afloat in France. In the center, a demi-bouteille of wine bears a label fashioned after that of the Chateau de Pommard where we all had purchased a case of wine. Surrounding the assemblage is a frame containing leaves and flowers gathered along the canal.

The approaching winter chill in the air yielded up a spectacular autumn and each morning we awoke to survey a new palette of colors as more leaves had magically turned red and orange during the night. The grapevines were the most breathtaking of all: a deep russet with accents of alizarin crimson shimmering in contrast to the few remaining clusters of ebony grapes. Some of the trees remained green and were festooned with large balls that reminded us of Christmas ornaments. Later we learned that they were bunches of mistletoe.

When we reached the city of Dijon, the first place on everyone’s list to visit was the mustard shop where they sell moutard dispensed fresh from a mustard tap in beautiful ceramic jars. Below is a recipe for using our special Dijon mustard--mailed to each of us from Paula, one of the members of our group.

Beet and Spinach Salad

1 1/4 pounds beets, trimmed and rinsed

1 1/2 teaspoons rice vinegar

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

1/4 teaspoon whole-grain dijon mustard

1 ounce spinach leaves, sliced (1 cup)

3 tablespoons toasted walnuts

1 ounce blue cheese, crumbled

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Place beets in a roasting pan with water to 1/2 inch. Cover and bake until beets are easily pierced with fork, about 1 hour. Set aside to cool. Peel and rinse. Slice into 1/2 inch thick rounds, then cut into 1/4 inch sticks. Add the vinegar, salt and pepper, olive oil and mustard and toss with the spinach. Garnish with walnuts and blue cheese.

Bon Appetit!