Charlotte in New York

B
Y
J
OAN
M
AC
P
HAIL
K
NIGHT
I
LLUSTRATIONS BY
M
ELISSA
S
WEET

March 31, 1894

Rue de l'Amiscourt
Giverny

The blacksmith had his hands full this morning! An automobile broke down right in front of his shop. By the time Lizzy and I got there, so had most of the village—even Monsieur Duboc with his herd of sheep, and a girl with ten squawking geese. It's not every day you see an automobile in Giverny—much less a bright yellow one! The blacksmith said the driver was Monsieur Durand-Ruel from Paris. And that if he hadn't been so quick to trade his horse and carriage for a machine, he wouldn't have had to arrive at his hotel “à pied”—on foot—carrying his luggage! Then the blacksmith laughed and hitched his big gray workhorse to the automobile and pulled it to the side of the road.

Papa said Monsieur Durand-Ruel is here to visit his old friend Monsieur Monet. And to look at paintings by the American artists living in Giverny. So many, like Papa, have come to Giverny to learn to paint “en plein air”—outdoors—in the French style called Impressionism. Monsieur Durand-Ruel is planning a show of their work at his gallery in New York and wants Papa's work to be in it. Mr. Foster's, too. I've never been to New York . . . and I can't wait! I'm so glad the Fosters are coming. Lizzy Foster is my best friend, and it wouldn't be the same without her. Mama says New York is
the
place to be. Papa says it's nothing like our hometown of Boston—and Lizzy and I will see why when we get there!

I wish we could go right away, but Papa says we're off to Brittany first. Monsieur Durand-Ruel talks about a painter there named Gauguin whose paintings are like no others. Papa wants to see for himself. The Fosters won't be coming. I'll miss Lizzy, but I'll see her on the dock at Le Havre. . . .

April 15, 1894

The Buvette de la Plage
Le Pouldu, Brittany

Our hotel is so close to the sea, I can feel salt spray on my face when I open the door. Toby likes it here, I can tell. He barks and runs in circles whenever we step outside.

I like it, too. I have pancakes at every meal—only here they call them “crêpes.” Today I had them with strawberry jam for breakfast, with cheese for lunch and with shrimp for dinner. For dessert, I had crêpes with applesauce.

And I'm learning to paint like Papa. This morning, we took our easels to the beach. After a while, Marie Henry, the innkeeper, came down. Everyone calls her Marie Poupée because she looks like a little doll. She said something to Papa about “un Parisien”—a man from Paris—and Papa told me he'd be right back. I stayed on the beach to paint.

All at once, a shadow fell on my painting. I looked up and saw a boy standing there. He said his name was Hippolyte. He told me he's French but he can speak English as well as any American. Then he told me he had a bucketful of sardines. I could smell them! When I told him I was going to New York, he laughed, pointed to the bucket, and said, “If wishes were fishes, I'd go to New York, too!” And then he walked away.

When Papa got back, he said that the Parisien, Monsieur Durand-Ruel, has to leave for Paris tomorrow. If Papa wishes to meet Monsieur Gauguin, he'll have to arrange it on his own. Then Papa looked at his canvas and said, “The light's changed; I'll finish in the morning.” We went up to the hotel and had lunch on the terrace.

Every day, Marie Poupée teaches me some French words she thinks I should know.

April 24, 1894

The Buvette de la Plage
Le Pouldu, Brittany

We still haven't seen Monsieur Gauguin—not once. At dinner tonight, Papa asked Marie Poupée what she knew about him. She said he is “très difficile,” very difficult. She must like his paintings, though. The walls are covered with them. The windows, too. He painted right on the glass so you can't see out. “Another brilliant painter who can't pay his hotel bills,” said Papa. Then he stood up to stretch. Papa looks like a giant in the little dining room. It's no bigger than my bedroom in Giverny. The tables and chairs are so tiny he has to eat with his knees at his chin. It's not comfortable for him, but for me it's as cozy as can be.