A day in Gourdon and a visit to Nall

We started for the hills around 11, Tom driving our rented car with Avery in the front navigating and Fran and I in the back. I should tell you that Tom’s personality changes when behind the wheel of a car in France. (Note: Heckmans, skip this part). He transforms himself just like in the old horror movie where mild-mannered Dr. Jekyll drinks the seething magic potion and becomes the crazed madman, Mr. Hyde. When Tom drives in France (no automatic shifts for him and this car has six gears), he throws the car into third or fourth gear, lurches forward, his demeanor menacing and confrontational. Well, maybe I exaggerate ever so slightly, but you get the picture. It’s that built-in male fear that someone, somewhere, is about to take advantage of him, and he WILL NOT let that happen.

We were finally out of the city and winding through the serpentine road to Gourdon. Along the side of the mountain road periodically there is a low stone wall, but often there is no barrier at all between you and sailing into oblivion a la Thelma and Louise.

But we’re here to tell the tale and I really am only teasing. Beloved is a very careful driver and would never endanger the lives of his loved ones—although the fits and starts in the back seat from the constant shifting is enough to give one a terminal case of the dry heaves.

Gourdon is a village replicated many times over throughout France, but I never get tired of wandering through these remarkable places, despite the tourists and the in-your-face souvenir shops. Built from the 13^th to the 17^th century, Gourdon still has many of its original buildings and the winding streets are typical of the “perched” village. How medieval artisans managed to build these structures high up in the mountains in the middle of vast wilderness, and of course with none of the modern conveniences we have, is a constant source of wonder.

Gourdon’s main claim to fame though is the spectacular view over the mountains and down the coastline to the Mediterranean Sea which can be seen from lo these many miles away. The village itself presents a wondrous sight when one first spots it from the road literally “perched” on the side of a hill.

We had lunch at The Eagle’s Nest, which I think is also a nickname of the village, where a hang glider tantalized us by soaring overhead sometimes dangerously close to the rooftops of the village. He actually got near enough to smile and wave, but I missed that photo op by choosing to go to the ladies’ at a most inopportune time.

We were due at Nall’s at four, but since lunch is always at least a two hour affair, we were running late. Betsy wanted to stop at several other villages along the way to Vence—Bar sur Loup, Pont de Loup, and Tourettes—none of which Tom and I had been to before. In Tourettes, we parked and walked through yet another medieval village, this one ablaze with red geraniums against ancient yellow stone walls. Old men were playing boules on the tamped down dirt near the parking lot, another sight common throughout France.

Finally, we approached Nall’s home in Vence. Nall, born Fred Nall Hollis in Alabama 60-something years ago, has lived in France for most of his adult life, although he has returned to his roots of late and spends much of the year back in Fair Hope AL. An artist to the core, he studied under Salvadore Dali in Paris and eventually settled in Vence where he lives still. He and Avery have known each other forever and we met him at least 30 years ago. He is an amazing artist, eclectic and prolific, with a style that is unmistakable and always memorable.

About five years ago, Nall had a 25 year retrospective in New York for which Tom and I, Mary and Neil Anderson and Rita and Henry Hortenstine, among others, formed the Dallas contingent. The retrospective was made up of a number of activities including a reception showing a large sampling of his body of work, another event displaying the work of some primitive artists from Alabama that he has sponsored, and a luncheon at Francine’s home in Manhattan.

And then we saw him last September in Montecito, CA. Rita and Henry have several pieces of his work at their home in Dallas and had commissioned him to do a series for their home in Montecito. When the works were finally finished, they held a reception for Nall to present the works and introduce him to their friends in the community. Tom and I were lucky enough to be invited and enjoyed Nall’s company yet again. It was such fun seeing him work the crowd and be the center of attention. The art he did for Rita and Henry is very unique and beautiful.

And now we are in his territory in the South of France, and we visited him at the NALL Institute which he founded some years ago and where lives. We couldn’t stay long because he had meeting to attend but he graciously showed us his latest work and your head spins with all his tales. I’ll post some pictures of his place and his work. It’s quite beyond my limited descriptive abilities.

We got back to Avery’s around eight with an invitation to dinner the next night at Francine's and with no need for further entertainment (although we stayed up til midnight anyway).