Youm to Muskita

About a year ago, I tasted a drink by the name of Youm. It was being launched by Pierre Massotte and his wife and they brought some to Diane Rauscher-Kennedy's annual vernissage at Galeries Lafayette's restaurant. Although not polished, I found it had potential as it was delicious - light, fragrant and bubbling.

The name, however, I thought was crap, and sent them an email the next day to tell them so. I came up with an alternative suggestion 'Muscatier' as the drink is made with immature muscat grapes. I thought it was quite a snazzy name with connotations of young men being dashing to beautiful ladies. I never heard back from them, which I thought odd although I knew they were very busy trying to get the product off the ground.

This summer, I'm sure I read in the regional rag that another launch had been made of Youm, and I was horrified to see the name had not been changed.

Then last night, Diane and I were invited to dinner with a meeting of the local Rotary club where she was to give a speech to encourage them to help Promo'Arts. It was a very nice evening, Diane's speech went down well, and I was sitting next to Pierre Massotte. So I asked him about Youm, and he told me they had changed the name. To 'Muskita'. Oh, said I, I wrote to you to tell you the name was crap, made a suggestion for an alternative and never heard back... Well, apparently they did write back. I just never got the mail. Anyway, they must have heard from other sources too that the name Youm was not going to sell a fridge to an eskimo, maybe took my suggestion of Muscatier, and adapt it slightly to make it their own.

I still prefer my suggestion. I think the name Muskita is too feminine to appeal to guys - what guy is going to ask for a bottle for himself? Nah, Muscatier is still my tip top tip but what do I know...?

Anyway, it looks like they will sponsor us for our next jolly fund-raising event in April - a Bodegita which is a little Bodega with tapas and lively music. They liked the idea of associating Muskita with the Bodegita, which does sound a fun combination. However, we are desperate for logistical sponsorship and were hoping for some support from a Rotarian or two last night.

Fund-raising is incredibly difficult here even though contributions can be off-set against taxes. You would not believe the energy and money that has to be spent to bring in a single donation of 25Eur. When we're trying to help set up a bone-marrow transplant centre at the university hospital (Arnaud de Villeneuve) with Dr Margueritte - not a cheap undertaking - it's not surprising it takes so long getting things done! Our Bodegita will help, and our guests will have great fun while they are helping others. Isn't that how it works best?!

Arty Farty

It's been an arty week, this week. On Wednesday evening we were freezing on the quai at Port Ariane for a vernissage (art exhibition opening). Actually, it was the last place we wanted to go, but as the artist was one of ours (Promo'Arts) and an active one at that, we rather felt obliged. Still, on a week day, in winter (felt like it, anyway) it was a toughy.

Ports are damp places at the best of times. Add to that a nippy wind and you've got an unpleasant evening ahead. We braved the traffic. I need hardly say that we got caught in a traffic jam. Someone had collided with a motorcyclist and the pompier's ambulance was there, but stationary. That's bad news, that. It should have been screeching off to hospital, had there been hope...

Half an hour later, we got through and made our way to Lattes. I waved to the offices of my lawyer and we strove against the biting wind around various bits of quai and bridge to find the exhibition. Got there eventually and, to our dismay, saw the buffet was outside! Our estimated staying time took a sharp direction downwards from the already 'shortest time necessary to fly the flag' option. Inside the gallery it was, thankfully, as snug as a bug. The only problem was, we were surrounded by her paintings, and, to be honest, I don't like them one bit.

A plastic cup of punch and some nibbles later, we dashed off, stopped for a peace-offering supper of MacDo for the boys (they had really not wanted to go out...) and went home.

Last night was vernissage #2 - a totally different affair. To start with, it was taking place in the restaurant at Galeries Lafayette, so inside, in the warm! It was the annual Promo'Arts Diane Rauscher-Kennedy vernissage laid on for our members and certain invited guests to thank them for their support throughout the year. Diane lays on a proper spread - not just your average bowl of crisps and plate of peanuts!

The vernissage coincided with a pre-Christmas late opening in the shop so there were lots of people milling around. We had a notice at the entrance of the restaurant warning people that we were having a private event by invitation only. You wouldn't believe the cheek of some folk who smart-arsed their way in; not members, not interested in art, but wanting to freeload on the food and booze. It's not as though there was nothing to stuff in the rest of the shop, either. Tables had been placed all over the place with nibbles and drink, but some people preferred to freeload with a table and chair, in comfort....

Diane accosted some on their way out, having had more than their fill. One or two scuttled away like the low-life they were, others stopped and gave their name and addresses.

I had a lovely time talking to some lovely people; managed to eat one plate of food, and drank a couple of half glasses of wine. We had come in on the tram which I regretted as we froze waiting the ten minutes for the homeward one to arrive.

The paintings, natch were gorgeous. I have three on my walls...

Clubbin' it enfin!

Back at the end of August I was lamenting my lack of clubbing experience, primarily in Paris as I needed information for my book, but also locally because it seemed to epitomise the fact that I never go out dancing.

Imagine my delight, then, when I received an invitation to a soirée cocktail dinétoire dansant at Le Grau du Roi on the other side of La Grande Motte. It was sent by the magazine Côté Sel, who don't seem to have a website, because they did an article on Diane Rauscher-Kennedy the artist who is also President of the association I belong to as Secrétaire Générale - Promo' Arts.

The publishers produce two magazines: Le Graulien and Côté Sel. We were there to celebrate two years of the free local events publication - Le Graulien. They had invited all their advertisers and others, like us so there were around 500 people to enjoy the hefty snacks, punch, wine, champagne, dessert and 80s & 90s music. It took place in the Casino of Le Grau du Roi, a place I've never been in before and in fact I think it might be the first time I've ever set foot in a casino. Anyway, we weren't mingling amongst the black jack tables or fruit machines, but in a separate room with disco floor, lights and stage for the DJ.

Diane was feeling too poorly to attend, so I went with pal B who is also a member of the assoc. We left in torrential rain and arrived a bit early, so drove down to the beach l'Espiguette. This brought memories flooding back from my dim and distant past with my ex-husband when we had gone down there in his old black Alfa Romeo GTV and had a great time doing handbrake turns on the massive packed-sand car park which was empty at the time.

The rain had stopped but it was quite windy, so we got out and made our tentative way in the failing light on the little access path across the sand dunes to the beach. We were not the only ones there. The waves were quite energetic for the Med and it seemed to be good fishing weather because there were a number of hardy fishermen including one with his son on the beach with the end of their rods glowing eerily green.

Not the place to hang around in strappy sandals and evening gear, so back we went to the Casino, without doing a series of handbrake turns...

Most of the assembled crowd were the local commerçants I suppose - anyone who owns a local business who advertises or has something to do with the magazine. We picked out some favourites. There was 'Oldest Swinger in Town' with a classic French nose who, having asked to take a chair from our table proceeded to exchange witticisms at every opportunity thereafter. Then there were the 'Overcoat Twins' who didn't take their coats off until well into the evening.

Overcoat Senior bore a vague resemblance to Piers Brosnan, and I mean vague, but was wearing a heavy woollen coat and black scarf. I was very concerned that he would overheat and didn't seem to be enjoying himself, so asked solicitously if he was going to take off his coat. He said he liked being hot...

Overcoat Junior was wearing a trench coat and had one of those chiselled faces. He turned out to be a nifty dancer of rock in six. Eventually they came over and while pal B was getting some food, Overcoat Junior hung is coat over the back of his chair. Then, I suppose it got too much for Overcoat Senior who had to take off his coat or faint from heat exhaustion, so came up to our table and slung his coat over the back of our spare chair. At this point I cried out with relief at him that he had at last started to enjoy himself, which he took in good spirits...

Actually I was going to ask Overcoat Junior to dance a rock in six with me as payment for the rental of the chair back but he left before I had the chance, dammit. That was another reason for missing my ex-husband. He taught me to dance like that and we had many a super time at parties and weddings rocking on down. (Since discovered the Overcoat Twins have a website selling Camargue goody-filled hampers.)

Our other favourite was Miss Gypsy who was a diminutive long-haired young lady with a skill at shimmying that sent pal B's heart towards apoplexy. She looked a bitch mind, but boy could she shimmy those hips, to the general indifference to just about every other guy in the room I might add, including her boyfriend. I sometimes wonder about French men...

I managed to talk to one of the organisers and say who I was. He talked enthusiastically about his plans to do more articles on Promo'Arts artists and generally incorporate us as regulars in the magazine.

We finally left gone 1am and got back to Montpellier in torrential rain. Funny that.

La Soirée de l'Année

'Tenue de soirée' it was written on the matt black invitation. How unusual, and how exciting to be expected to dress up... I had the very thing - long, slightly shimmery, dusky pink snakeskin design, close-fitting with a look d'enfer!

Slipping the dress over my head, I wondered whether it would still fit. Oh ye of little faith, thought I as it slid effortlessly down and sat snugly on my not so surreptitiously expanding afterall hips. It was long, longer than I remembered, but drop dead snazzy. I slipped on my strappy sandals and whisked myself and NG off to the soirée de l'année Montpellieraine.

Turning into the gates of the Hotel Verchant, we showed our invitation, were greeted by the bouncers and waved up the drive at the end of which was another check-point. To my joy (and it'll have to fall off before I take it off) a VIP sticker was stuck to my windscreen by Valérie, the hotel's director, and we drove round to the VIP car-park next to the hotel entrance. This enabled us to walk a short distance, clean-shoe'd, to the entrance, as opposed to non-VIPs who had to trip their way through the dust and muck from the outer car-parks.

Check-point n° 3 - more recognition, more friendly welcomes, more instructions. We climbed the steps, passed through the events hall and went in search of a more liquid welcome. It came in the guise of rosé wine - the house rosé, and slipped agreeably down.

Looking around us, we had le tout Montpellier as our fellow invités. Le tout were dressed in various interpretations of 'tenue de soirée' extending from, for men, jeans under a crappy shirt, to smart suit (no dinner jackets except on the musicians); and for women, one in what looked like my nightdress in beige satin with black leather boots, no bra, buxom (look pétasse), through grey trousers and everyday blouse (look mémé), shiny black tight-fitting trouser suit with killer-heeled boots (look pute), perfect bourgeois dress, perfect blonde hair coupe carré, perfect low heels, smug expression (look bourgeoise parfaite de chez bourgeoise parfaite), and a few in evening dress who looked lovely although one was so skinny I thought she might pass out with malnutrition before the evening was finished.

It was the official opening of the Hotel Verchant. NG and I were invited because we work with them through our association Promo'Arts, and just recently, on a last minute rewrite of the English translation of their brochure. I'd had 20 minutes to render into evocative English a literal translation of the original French texts. I did it, and heard last night that my version was considered better written than the original French (ha!). It's nice to hear things like that.

As the evening progressed, coloured lights lit up the grounds and images from its history were projected onto the cream-coloured stone of the hotel. We wandered around admiring the overall beauty, but wondering at some of the glaring points faibles. Inside the décor has been done to perfection. Outside, on the other hand, the park designer seems to have had little idea beyond a number of derived ideas about what is suitable for a 5* hotel. One example was putting next to gorgeously coloured sandstone walls some dead white pebbles out of which poked some long thin cactii. It just didn't look right. The rose garden was infested with something, and would have looked better full of lavender; and the flower beds were a mess of unsuitable, untidy plants. Amazing really.

The buffet, on the other hand, was perfect. It was provided by Didier Germain's team, the best in Montpellier, and who provided the buffet for Promo'Arts back in May (for free!). Everyone in Montpellier knows that if you are invited to a soirée with a Germain Traiteur buffet, you will eat like a king, and there's no polite holding back when it comes to making a beeline for the food.

Last night, however, NG and I were approached by M Germain and invited to partake of the buffet with a few select others (VIPs?) BEFORE the general call to food. It was one of those gestures that seem small, but offer in fact infinitely more to the receiver than the giver could ever imagine. The buffet was set up beneath the age old pin parasols, coloured lights providing atmospheric touches and une ambiance de fête. Various stands had been place around a large semi-circle allowing plenty of room to move and eat. Each one had a chef who was whisking up something cooked to accompany the cold nibbles. We stopped at the nems counter where NG nearly died of joy they were so good. The buffet was sheer gastronomic bliss, as ever!

We retired to sit once the general call to food was made and let the crowd rush down to pounce on everything they could lay their paws on. I went back down to mingle a bit later and a nice guy fed (handed...) me oysters with foie gras, while on another stand I sneaked in and snapped up warm barely cooked to die for morsels of scallops on a stick in sauce before a little crowd of distracted le touts.

Pierre Mestre, the owner of Verchant, gave a speech (which maybe I should have written and had translated...) which was unfortunately just a dry recounting of the history of la maison Verchant, devoid of humour. His lovely youngest daughter who must be about 13 recognised NG and I from a previous event which impressed us no end. She had a nice little chat with us dressed as she was, nattily, in white jeans and a pretty (modest) black top.

Finally, just before NG passed out, we took vintage champagne and dessert on the terrasse overlooking the vineyards, where we could also observe at closer hand the talent the evening offered. It was not very impressive, I was sorry to see. Some obvious good looks with ego to match, lots of normality, and some 'interesting but not classically handsome' faces. Ah well, there was the chocolate fountain instead...

On our way out, we took our goodie bag which contained a bottle of wine (natch!) and the brochure of the hotel with my translation (which I must say did read very well!). It had been fun if a trifle nippy - we had chatted to some of our friends and acquaintances and eaten divinely and drunk well (but not excessively).

When I got home the babysitter congratulated me on the beautiful manners of the boys.
A perfect evening!

Wanna see a piccie?

This afternoon I was busy working on the Promo' Arts website. I had to transfer all the photos taken on my camera onto the computer and then try and upload them to the web. From experience, I've found that creating a Powerpoint presentation and transforming that into a jpg image file works well for making a page of photos that can be viewed better when clicked.

For some reason, the four pages I did of the evening's events flatly refused to upload properly. I could not insert each photo individually into the website as it would take too much room, so eventually I came to the conclusion it would be better to start a Promo' Arts Yahoo photo album.

This I did, and of course it took a mere 10 minutes from beginning to end and I wish I'd thought of it sooner, but one lives by trial and error, so now I know...

For those interested in seeing a little snippet of the Domaine de Verchant's events facilities, or the Promo' Arts team, or people having a jolly time, you can get to it via the Promo' Arts website, and click on the link in the text.

Since the 22nd, we have received several emails thanking and congratulating us on a wonderful evening, three requests to become members by the post, cheque included, and a continuous flow of phone calls. Despite the fact that 5 of the paintings did not sell, and that others were sold way under their value, perhaps we have managed to get ourselves talked about sufficiently to enable us to make a bigger impact next time.

The people of Montpellier are notorious for not participating fully at charity evenings. We did, in fact, do very well although we could have done better if most people had given more than the 10euro minimum for a glass, if all the paintings had been sold, and if those sold had gone for a higher price 'for charity'.

Still, considering the forces against us, we managed to impress the president of the Ligue Contre le Cancer, Pr Henri Pujol, not only with our evening, but also that we will be handing over a cheque of over 9000 euros in the very near future. This was essentially made possible by the extreme generosity of those who let us have the location, wine, food, music and auctioneering for free. There seem to be two extremes working here. What we need to achieve is a general movement upwards so that the efforts of the few extremely generous are not put to shame by the laxity of most of the rest.

Our motto should become : Onwards and upwards!

Midi Libre, 24 May 2007

Here is the write-up by a journalist who was not present at the gala, but held a telephone interview with Diane the next day. It comes from the Midi Libre, 24/05/07.

There are two glaring errors:
1) We did not get 10million euros (a tad unlikely), but 10 thousand.
2) The auctioneer was called Maïtre Françoise KUSEL.I (on the right) am not mentioned, nor is the guy on the left, Franck Fontcouberte who is the conductor of the chamber orchestra. Diane is the other lady, and Professor Henri Pujol is the distinguished gentleman in the middle.

To see the articles written before the gala, see the Promo' Arts website.

The Day, Day After

Yesterday was one helluva day! It was the day of Promo' Arts gala event in aid of the Ligue Contre le Cancer.

The printer finally decided to behave and industrial quantities of programmes and receipts poured out (to be folded/cut). We had things to sort out at the Domaine de Verchant (glasses, chairs, tables) and were hard at it until mid-afternoon.

Having changed into something a little less casual, we headed back to find the caterers (best in Montpellier) doing their thing and a sense of eager anticipation. It has to be said we had the absolute best of everything: location, wine, aperitif, buffet, music, weather, teams, auctioneer.

Around 150 people came, paid for their glass, admired the surroundings and went to enjoy the Vignoble Guitard white wine. I don't think there was a single politician. Everyone had to pay to get in, you see, and we hadn't asked for any grants or other money to help us out. All our donations were made privately.

We were honoured by the presence of the president of the Ligue Contre le Cancer, Professor Henri Pujol who was very pleased with the evening. I was delighted to meet the people who made it all happen: Pierre Mestre of Domaine de Verchant (and red wine), Guy Cholet of Groupe Cholet (invitations), Charles Guitard, Antoine Peskine (logistics), Mr & Mrs Germain (buffet) and of course, Franck Fontcouberte who conducted the chamber orchestra and Maïtre Françoise Kusel the auctionner. It was fabulous.

The concert was perfect with some Bach, Mozart, Telemann, Elgar and Britten. I loved the English touch. I had played with the orchestra when it had been an amateur affair ten years ago. Franck has moved on since then and put together a wonderful team who play with warmth and enthusiasm. Funnily enough, my eldest's violin teacher is part of it. It was a surprise seeing her up there!

We had positive feedback upon positive feedback. The auction went well, the auctioneer was a riot, and I was called upon to note who bought what and at what price. The artist who had given us the most trouble had tried to offload one of her old paintings from way back in 1994 onto the auction. It didn't sell (hehe). Our guests didn't want it either, not even for a good cause!

Still we made over 10,000Eur and will give 90% to the Ligue Contre le Cancer, keeping 10% to enable us to start preparing for the next event.

Definitely an evening to remember!

Day Before...

I'm getting ready for the big day (evening) tomorrow. The Promo' Arts charity gala in aid of the Ligue Contre le Cancer is all set for demain soir. Needless to say, everything has been going wrong today. Is this a good sign? In the theatre, a terrible dress rehearsal is indicative of a fabulous first night. Let's hope the same applies to gala events.

I've plucked my eyebrows, de-haired my legs (shaved, not waxed - my legs are immune to wax), and am applying nail polish as I type. It may well come out a bit bitty... I'm typing with one hand as the other one dries. How's that for blog dedication? Actually, the last time I had my finger nails polished was just before I gave birth to my youngest which happened at the same time as a big conference my ex-h was organising. I had all my bits done for the big dinner on the Saturday, and all was still looking great after the conference two days later when I had to go to the maternité. That was six years ago. Shows how often I get out...

Tomorrow we have to print the programmes on the printer that has decided to have a nervous breakdown and stop feeding paper, photocopy the lists of guests seven times for the eight welcome tables (one already done!), take the white wine to the Domaine de Verchant, and stick the glass stickers onto the glasses (instead of having them engraved - too pricey and too long to do).

I'm wishing I had persevered with the over-winter sun cream that I should have been applying through the cooler months in order to have glowing legs all ready for summer. But I got bored. Unfortunately now, though, my legs are pretty un-brown, so I'll just have to pretend I'm going for the 'pale and interesting' look.

I'll be wearing a pretty zappy dress rom my flea market lady and some shoes I bought around 15 years ago which I recently found again when we cleared out the garage. I did buy new bangles though, from Inno (Monoprix). The dress is labeled 'Serge Dana by Arfal'. Sounds good, but I've never heard of either of them.

I'll let you know how it goes. Fingers crossed it doesn't rain!

Can't Stop Progress

It goes without saying that my parents only have to arrive for the heavens to open promising a week's worth of downpours for the duration of their stay. Today they were shower-hopping buying bread, and were denied watching my youngest play footie as it was too wet.

So much for languidly reclining on the sunbed a book in one hand, a freshly squeezed orange juice in the other, their only worry whether the suntan lotion needs topping up. The height of today's excitement was not finding limon cello in Intermarche, and buying a Norma plastic bag. Living on the edge!

Meanwhile the art auction preparations by Promo'Arts continue unabated, except for the May 1 bank holiday, general April 30 pont and weekend apathy by 99.9% of the population. May is not a good month for being dynamic. You are likely to be the only one at it if you are. However, it's best not to rock the boat as the status quo is a very important element of French life. It'll be interesting to see who gets to be president on Sunday, and whether whoever is chosen actually gets to upset the status quo.

The Creationist status quo is likely to be upset in the coming months with the experiments being carried out by the Large Hadron Collider which being built in Geneva at the moment. It hopes to recreate the conditions right after the big bang and solve the mystery of the Higgs Boson particle which explains how fundamental particles acquire mass. The Horizon programme on BBC2 last night did a fantastic job presenting the research and some of the historical lead-up. I would be most interested to hear how crazy Creationists could explain the discoveries that have been made over the last 40 years and are continuing to help scientists understand the realities of the Big Bang; discoveries that go beyond Creationist thinking of 'oh, it's far too complicated for us to understand so God must have dunnit'.

The status quo is a very cosy place to inhabit, but it's anti-progress. France is on the edge of an opportunity to right the problems that will not go away if the voters choose the status quo. Voting is a first step; the second, more important is not to sabotage the efforts made by those who have been voted in by taking to the streets and refusing change.

Creationists will soon be confronted by possible proof of the making of stuff. Will they go with progress or ignore it?

Me? I'm just hoping it stops raining and that we find some limon cello for my dad. I can't vote and I'm not a crazy Creationist, but I love progress!

Free Lunch?

There's no such thing as a free lunch, they say. Unless you are a locally elected official in France, it seems.

Perhaps it is the threat of not dishing out subventions that gets them invited everywhere for nothing. What we have found during our preparations for the Promo'Arts charitable evening is that expecting them to pay is greeted with shock. Ca ne se fait pas, chère amie!

Logically, however, someone has to open their cheque book at a charity event. It is, afterall, the aim of a charity event to earn money for charity (in this case, La Ligue Contre le Cancer). We are not putting on an evening's entertainment out of the goodness of our hearts. I'm not sure this concept has quite sunk in.

At previous events, not organised by us, guests have considered the evening as a soirée mondaine, have stuffed themselves silly on the sumptuous buffet, drunk themselves under the table on the wine, and contributed not one cent to the charity in whose name the event was organised. Call us stuffy old FrAnglo-Saxon pedants if you will, but that is not what charity is all about.

Our art auction involves about 18 paintings. That means a maximum of 18 people can buy one. They may only pay peanuts if no one else is bidding on that particular painting, which means the whole evening's financial success rests on the whim of a small group of potential bidders. Everyone else would be busily stuffing themselves, getting drunk and then going home, their wallets intact.

But, we have a cunning plan...

Guests will have to buy their glass if they want a drink. To obtain a glass they will have to cough up a minimum of ten euros; more if they like, or if they are persuaded that being generous would be a really good idea... Then they can drink as much as they like and eat.

This idea is causing much mirth and evil chuckling amongst the sponsors (themselves exceptionally generous people), and much shock and disbelief amongst the representatives of locally elected officials. If they want to drink, they will have to pay. I'm not sure it's ever been done before here. We aim to shock and to get people thinking and acting. Word is spreading in the town that we are not sucking up to politicians, not asking them for money, and expecting everyone to participate at what is certainly going to be one hell of an evening.

It's causing such a stir but who was it who said that there's no such thing as bad publicity? Where we had been ignored before, we are now being solicited for invitations. Dontcha just love politics?

Contrepointal Coincidence

It's well-known that Montpellier is a very small place; you keep bumping into people you know in town and everyone knows what everyone is doing.

I had not been overly aware of this phenomenon, not making particularly frequent visits into town, and working outside the city. Still, this week I was hit full force.

After returning from doing my Masters during my ex-h's military service, and having played in an orchestra during my uni days in Bristol, I decided to seek out an amateur orchestra in Montpellier. I found one: the Ensemble Instrumental Contrepoint. It was made up of young people; many formerly of the Conservatoire who were pretty good, and then ones like me who were okay. I was lucky, I played the viola so was always in demand.

The conductor and director was one Franck Fontcouberte who was a passionate guy in more ways than one (and ended up marrying her), and dragged us all kicking and screaming to get the best out of us. We even made a mini disk. It was good fun. I missed the tour to Eastern Europe because I had got pregnant and would have to give up the orchestra as there would be no one to help me look after the baby (certainly not my ex-h).

That was in 1996. This week, the Ensemble Instrumental Contrepoint, directed by Franck Fontcouberte told us that it is going to participate in Promo'Arts' art auction to provide a chamber orchestra half-hour concert just before, and a quartet during the buffet. It seems that they practice at the Domaine de Verchant where we are holding our auction, and have agreed to offer us some delightful music.

Talk about a coincidence. I am delighted at the prospect of seeing the orchestra again and hearing how they have moved on from agreeably amateur to professional. Apparently Franck remembers who I am (there aren't that many viola players floating about) and I'm looking forward to catching up on what he's been doing.

It's a real blast from the past. My son is now 10!

Video Killed the Meteo Star

The latest suggestion for publicising Promo'Arts' charitable auction on May 22 is to go and do the météo on France 3. This came from a friend of mine with whom I was having lunch today. We were being ladies who lunch dontcha know.

We went to La Chêne Vert which is an organic supermarket and restaurant. I suppose the food is all organic. It's certainly full of hearty bulghur wheat, Ebly, sprouting grains and lots of veggies. Even the wine is supposed to be organic and 'dynamic'. I didn't feel particularly dynamic after drinking it however. A snooze would have suited me better...

It was also pretty crowded and the serving staff were hopeless as usual. There were two of them; the woman who I think runs the place, and a dopey bloke with a nose-stud. He's generally who means well, but he must be the woman's first cousin or have some other close family connection. It's not the first time I've eaten there, and considering the size of the place you would think they could serve you in a reasonable time. It always takes ages though.

My friend is a runner. She does ghastly things like run 10km races. This month she and her husband are running a positively death-inducing 26km in St Guilhem le Desert, which has a dénivelé of 1km! Just the thought of it makes me feel weak. I really can't stand jogging. I'll cycle anywhere and for ages, but jogging - bleh.

Back to France 3 and the météo. I've just been googling it and can't find a link, but basically, the general public can apply to read the weather and then plug an event/say 'hi' to friends/propose marriage/ ANYTHING really. I think it's on the lunchtime news, and it must be live considering how awkward most people look. They don't seem to get much practice.

My friend mentioned it to me by way of her own pottery association. They are having an exhibition and to publicise it, were thinking of going on the tele. She was none too keen on the idea unless it was from a purely behind-the-scenes script-writing perspective and asked me if I would go on the tele. This got me thinking, of course.

I used to be an English teacher, so made a habit of getting up in front of people and spouting. That was many moons ago, thankfully, but I suppose I still have the knack in there somewhere, if a gun was placed at my head... Or I could be one of those inanely smiling hangers-on while someone else does all the work; you know, the ones there to make up the numbers so you don't look like you've got no friends or a member-less association.

Could be quite a laugh. Maybe I could then claim celebrity status, having been on the tele once, and then design my own perfume, make a fitness DVD and sit back waiting for the millions to roll in. I could even start buying £20,000 handbags...

Then again, maybe not! S-WAGS RULE!

Jason & the Corri-naughts

I always enjoy going to the hairdresser. I'm either locked into a Paris Match world or the goings on of people I've barely heard of in celebrity magazines, or I'm listening, enthralled, to the real life that's parading before my eyes.

Today in my favourite Jean Vallon salon the leggy brunette come blond was not there re-colouring her locks. It was the end of the day, and things were winding up for the evening. The owner of the salon whose name escapes me but would have to be something like 'Jason' was to cut my wayward locks after they had been coloured by she-of-duck-feet. Up until the wash basin I was out of it, consumed in a world where George Clooney was saying he was a confirmed bachelor (*sob*), Sego was getting fashionista advice on how to perk up her rather staid outfits and Whitney Houston was re-emerging into life after escaping from her disasterous marriage to whatisname.

Gripping stuff as I'm sure you'll agree. Still, it came to an end when my colour had 'taken' and had to be washed out. I was then left at the basin with 'soin' doing it's soin-ful thing on my now colourful head, without fascinating reading material. Within seconds however, I was aware of a terribly interesting conversation going between Jason and a female client of a certain age.

For my last few visits to this salon, strange but colourful paintings have appeared dotted about amongst the mirrors. They have one theme - la corrida (bull fighting) and blare out at you from vivid fushias, reds, yellows and golds. I wouldn't say they lacked imagination but that, in my humble opinion, is about all they don't lack.

I suppose it should be no surprise to learn that these paintings are the work of Jason (and this is my friend Sandy) and he has actually put prices on his work (around 80€). He was discussing painting then, with client-of-a-certain-age, who, it turned out, also enjoyed dabbling in acrylic. Painting is actually a pretty expensive business, and they were discussing this aspect of the creative muse at one point. Overheard was a comment along the lines of "well, you should go to la Foire Fouille and buy the paintings there for 5€ and paint over them! It's a much cheaper source of canvas". Staggered, I opened my ears wider to catch more pearls of wisdom with which to share with all you budding Monets.

As the hairdryer was turned on, however it was as if a spy had entered the room and had decided to drown out his secret conversation by running the bath. Much good did wagging my ears do me; I couldn't make out anything of note.

When Jason turned his attention to me, however, I decided I didn't want to broach the topic of art too closely - you never know what they'll ask you - but skirted the issue by addressing the world of the internet.

Jason had never heard of blogs and said he didn't have internet at home although he frolicked on the keyboard ivories when he visited friends. He had never heard of RyanAir, so I presume he didn't venture north much which, for a trendy hairdresser, surprised me. I waxed lyrical about the wonders of blogging, and how, with a digital camera, he could exhibit his paintings for all cyberspace, or just stock pictures of them privately for posterity. As I left (having hoped I had reached the tenth free session, but found to my chagrin that I was only on number 9), I wrote down for him the address of the Promo'Arts blog and suggested he might like to have a look the next time he had the opportunity. He was most pleased and said he would. I may have another convert on my hands, and, better still, maybe another member for our association. I'll have to nip back with a brochure...

Just as long as he doesn't ask to exhibit...

PhotoShip-Shape

I'm not sure I'm going to have time to go to work for much longer. This will be somewhat problematical as I need to pay for the roof over my head, electricity needed to heat said house and run the car, as well as the usual stuff such as putting food on the table and gin in the glass.

Promo'Arts is becoming quite busy and as I am now the General Secretary I have lots more things to do. I'm sort of sneaking this blog post in, actually, as really I should be doing businesslike things such as posting photos on the PA blog which have previously been Photoshopped into ship-shape. Well, I exaggerate, but there are only 500 addresses to put into the database, letters to write and envelopes to prepare... all for our big 'do' on May 22 in aid of the League Against Cancer. Still, it keeps me off the streets.

What would be fantastic would be if PA could actually replace my paper-pushing job and finance my roof, car, electricity, gin and so on. I must say, it's way more fun, and I used to work in the art world years ago in London so it is almost like coming full circle. It must have been meant to be!

So in the last two days I've been photographing paintings by a charming local guy who does some excellent stuff; Bruno Rous. These painters don't seem to have either websites or digital cameras so we sometimes have to go sur place and do it for them. I've discovered a bit of a talent for photographing paintings which is, in fact, a bugger of a job. However, I can't exactly claim all the glory as I just point my camera and click. It seems to take a neat pic with true colours and, as my hand doesn't shake, nice and clear too. Maybe I should redefine myself as a photographer of paintings. Do you think that would keep the roof over my head, gin in the glass etc?

Hmm, I don't think I'll give up the day job yet...

Auctioning on Empty

Promo'Arts is having an auction of paintings in aid of cancer research in May and we are hard at it organising this event.

It seems we'll have our work cut out actually raising any money, however. Montpellier is apparently known nationally for the propensity of folk to go to charity events, take advantage of the hard work and efforts of sponsors and organisers by gobbling up every last crumb, downing every last drop of drink and going home without spending the least Euro cent. Advice given to us was 'Give them as little as possible to eat and drink'.

It seems that the definition of the word 'charity' has not quite penetrated. People regard such evenings as a free dinner, albeit a light dinner, but dinner quand même. They go, they drink, they eat, they look at pretty things, and go home happier because their wallets are in the same state they were, and yet they've been out for the evening.

DRK put up a painting to be auctioned for a charitable cause (can't remember which) and during the sale, the auctioneer removed it saying that he was not going to let such a good work go for peanuts to a bunch of rats.

Should we even bother?! It's certainly causing quite a bit of anxiety, because one of Montpellier's best known local artists, Jean Leccia has donated three paintings; paintings which sell normally for thousands of euros. If the auction proves a flop, he'd be justified taking his paintings out of the sale too. Why enable stinginess?

What we really need is some American-style generosity. Maybe that's the stumbling block...

Introducing Promo'Arts Blog

Promo'Arts, the association (for which I am the Secrétaire) which aims to promote 'jeune talent' and raising money for good causes now has a blog, which yours truly created this week.

It is, of course still in its infancy (both the association and the blog) but a date has been set for a fund-raising evening at the superb Domaine de Verchant to raise money for cancer research in May. Three paintings by Jean Leccia, one of the most renowned painters in the region will be auctioned, together with a raffle to win a painting by Diane Rauscher-Kennedy, who painted 'Loft', on the left there, and whose work is visible in greater numbers on the Promo'Arts blog.

For those who take an interest in such things, I decided to try out Wordpress as the blog host site. I like Blogger, but you only get one page, whereas Wordpress allows you to mimick a website by adding more pages. I wanted to be able to distinguish between Promo'Arts news, pages for participating artists, and a basic 'About' page. I have yet to write the text, but the foundations are laid.

We are especially looking for sponsors and DRK, the President, has been out banging on doors and hotting up the phone lines in search of generous companies. Generosity has certain fiscal advantages, of course, as does buying a painting through the association. For those of you who pay too much tax, you can help the association AND offset the purchase against tax, so basically everyone's a winner babe!

Most recently, Diane donated a beautiful dyptique painting called Stormy Sea to the Institut St Pierre, a children's hospital at Palavas les Flots. They invited her to a special ceremony to thank her, and laid on a lovely gouter for all the children so they enjoyed it even more! I went along as a hanger-on and made myself useful passing round sweets to the kids, although not to all, as it's a centre of childhood obesity, so those kids were, of course, privés de bonbons.

Diane makes an annual donation, when she chooses the best painting of the series and offers it to a marvellous local institution. Others who have benefitted are the Pompiers de l'Hérault to whom she gave the painting 'Garrigue en Flammes' in honour of those who participated in 9/11. As she is half-American, she felt more than gratitude for their bravery and courage. I didn't know her at the time, so didn't go to the shindig they laid on for her, which I somewhat regret, because who wouldn't want to be in a room filled with hunky firemen in boots?

Anyway, if you know of anyone who might be interested in joining the association, or being a sponsor, or buying a painting, you can contact Promo'Arts by emailing: promoarts_france at yahoo.fr (anti-spam measures, sorry).

News

Tonight's news items include:

1. The Telegraph has had over 1000 entries for its book competition. As they are selecting only the first 50 to post as finalists, I am philosophical as to my chances.
2. There is a raging debate at home as to the pronunciation of the word 'Nutella'; pronounced 'nut' or 'noot'. I lead the 'nut'-ists.
   
3. There is a lesser debate on the pronunciation of the word 'shush'; as in 'bush' or 'fuss'. I say both depending on the weather, my mood, whether the moon is waxing and whether I've had a G&T.
4. I am now the official Sécretaire of Promo'Arts Association (1901 or whenever it was) so you can expect news of that on a sporadic basis, and if you'd like to join, just let me know.
5. I am fed up with The Times updating their debates comments once a day. The Telegraph manages to update their 'Your View' comments much more frequently and I think The Times should pull their finger out...
6. I went to see 'Apocalypto' last weekend and thought it amazing; visually stunning with a great storyline and characterisation. The Mayan language just made it all the more credible so massive kudos to Mel Gibson, despite his abhorrent views, for pulling off a masterpiece.
7. There's a really funny spoof website for François Hollande which has a mobile phone ringtone of Ségolène Royal from where I would also like to introduce the word 'neuneu' to my blog (Généralement un individu vaguement simiesque, monocouille et hydrocéphale...).
   
8. The Great Barrier Reef off Australia has some corals which are over 1800feet thick and have been aged at 18million years old. I don't understand how this can be if the earth is only 10,000 years old (according to the far more scientifically accurate Creationists *cough*). Never mind, it's all dying anyway from the effects of global warning. If you ever wanted to see it, get there quick before it is all bleached and dead forever.
9. There have been local entries for the Washington Post's word competition, including 'Pish'; a species of fish measuring 3.14159265358979 recurring.
10. I'm thinking of buying a laptop. To Vista or not to Vista?

And that's all the news from the Montpellier news office for tonight. Thank you and good night.

Youm Youm

Youm. What is it? Or even, where is it? Does it sound like the name of a drink? Would you be prepared to go up to the barman and ask for a glass of Youm? What does 'Youm' mean? It makes me think of Yom Kippur, so is it a Hebrew or Jewish word?

Youm is the French spelling for the Catalan word llum, meaning 'light' as in lumière. The trouble is, only a very few people know that, and they live mostly in south west France, so as an attention-grabbing, evocative name for an alcoholic drink, it is not wholly successful... at all, even.

On the other hand, it is very delicious. I tasted some last night at the vernissage for Promo'Arts' exhibition at Montpellier's Galerie Lafayette, the paintings adorning the walls of the restaurant. Diane Rauscher-Kennedy has an annual buffet to celebrate the end of the year and draw attention to her work providing wall-space for talented young artists. She had come across the producers of Youm, Pierre Massotte and his wife a couple of weeks ago at the launch of Youm. A small group of the best artists in the area had been invited to submit a couple of paintings from which 50 of the most successful businessmen in the region would choose one to be used on the labels. M and Mme Massotte are retired academics who have taken on a vineyard in Aspres, in the Roussillon Pyrenees and who are developing a new drink from the muscat grapes they grow rather than producing the rather sickly sweet muscat wine.

Youm is made of 100% small, immature muscat grapes which are partially fermented thus giving a low alcohol level of 6.5%, is slightly sweet and lightly sparkling. It reminded me vaguely of elderflower wine, and is in the same drink bracket as cider. It is beautifully refreshing and a lovely pale yellow colour. For the moment it is not wholly filtered so is slightly cloudy which adds to its rustic charm. It could be made totally organically, which would widen its appeal considerably.

It's aimed at young drinkers; those who consume alcopops, or the not so young who enjoy a light, slightly sparkling and refreshing drink. Women, I think, would go for it in a big way, and if they can make a brut version, it would probably attract the guys too.

The name, however, is the weak link as, to me, it evokes nothing but totally unrelated associations.

So, my suggestion for this drink would be 'Muscatier'. In the word you find the main ingredient plus exciting connotations of dashing young men which would appeal to the ladies romantically and to the guys for their sportsmanship. It's a word that both the French and English, and American, can say equally easily which is important if the Massottes have any hope of exporting it to the huge Anglo-Saxon market.

So, don't forget, folks, you heard it here first and it didn't cost millions of marketing agency euros to find!

Promo'Arts Promo

My friend Diane Rauscher-Kennedy has been in the papers recently, for two reasons.

The first is because she has an exhibition of her paintings in the café of Galeries Lafayette in Montpellier for two months. This is an annual event and is repayment for the work she does for the rest of the year finding bright young local artists and exhibiting their work, free, on two-month rotations. Lafayette Restaurant thus has its walls beautifully decorated all the year round at minimal cost, and unknown but talented artists are able to exhibit their work to a sizeable audience.

This charitable work has a certain cost, however, and Diane has been paying it for several years now, to the extent that she has decided the time has come to formalise her efforts into an association, which brings us to the second reason for her recent publicity.

She has started up Promo'Arts as, what the French call, an association 1911. This means it is non-profit making, but that expenses can be reimbursed and even a salary paid to enable her to spend more time expanding the assoc along the lines she has planned.

One of the ideas is to incorporate all her artists into the assoc as members and then to send them into the community, to under-priviledged areas for the benefit of les jeunes. They will start up workshops to encourage local youth to be creative on canvas rather than on someone's garden wall or car.

At present, the assoc needs both members (20€/year) and membres bienfaiteurs who give a more substantial amount. Many talented young artists have been helped along the road to renown thanks to Diane. If you would like to help her to help even more, do contact her on 06.88.17.64.22.