Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Maerl Sand

Among the permanent collection at the Morlaix Musée des Jacobins is a painting whose ecological realism has gone unremarked, as far as I can tell. This is Sand Boats (c. 1900-02), by André Dauchez.
After researching this painting and its connection to marine ecology, I am posting this short essay that uses this painting as a springboard for further thinking about the representation of ecological relationships on the Brittany coast.

Dauchez was a painter, illustrator, printmaker and passionate sailor who, from 1890 onward, spent summers in Brittany at his family's summer home in Bénodet. 
Dauchez, Boat on the Odet
Critics included him in a group of artists  that were dubbed the Bande Noire because they seemed to share a  rejection of impressionism's bright color in preference for more somber tones that they brought to their realist subject matter. This group included Charles Cottet, Lucien Simon, René Ménard, Edmond Aman-Jean, Ignacio Zuloaga, and Jacques Emile Blanche.  




Dauchez, Benodet, etching, c. 1900.
Like his friends Cottet and Simon, Dauchez was drawn to the topography and human life of the shore as seen in his many images of estuaries, river banks, ports and coasts.  He is best known for his etchings, although his linear, graphic sensibility translates well to his paintings.














 Sand Boats has the dark, sepia tonality of his prints.

André Dauchez, Sand Boats, c. 1900-1902. Musée des Jacobins, Morlaix.

 I was initially drawn to his image of the wrack line as it traces the last high tide; calligraphic coffee-brown seaweed is flattened to the tan sand, writing the rim of the intertidal strand. The sea is cold blue-gray, the sky a menacing violet. This is not the sparkling beach of a summer vacation that inspires pastel hues, rather this is a worked zone of the land, exposed by the dropping sea. The Bande Noire artists may have shunned the exaggerated color of Impressionism, but they did not avoid engaging with modernity. Their stylistic and thematic roots were in the gritty realism of Millet and Courbet from the 1850s and 60s.  And like the rural Impressionist themes of Camille Pissaro or Claude Monet along the Seine river in the 1870s,  Dauchez represented a form of modern, local labor -- on the Brittany coast. 






Wooden boats, retired from sardine fishing, have been refitted for the hauling of sand. Beached for the moment, they are being loaded one shovel-full at a time and will float, despite their groaning loads,  as the tide comes in.  Dauchez, the avid sailor, in his day-trips around the coast, would have seen sand boats working on the beaches of Loctudy, the Isle Tudy and Glénan islands (an archipelago off the south coast of Finistère).  This painting was featured in a recent winter exhibition of Post-Impressionism in the museum, and the catalog notes that the site is probably the beach of Trévignon in Tregunc (just east of Concarneau).




But I had to ask, why move sand by water, shoveled by hand? Why this sand?

 A bit of hunting for "bateaux de sable" turned up the information that maërl or coral sand was a natural resource, harvested on certain parts of the Brittany coast, and transported on boats known as sabliersPierre Primot, a former sablier, tells of the peasant-sailors from Gouesnach (just north of Bénodet, upstream on the Odet river)  known in Breton as "gab-mao"; they bought old sardine boats in Douarnenez or Concarneau to haul sand upstream to farmers who either purchased it on the docks in Quimper, or had the sand dumped on a nearby river-bank for their collection. At first the maërl sands were gathered by farmers who took to the waters.  This later became a trade in itself, as the demand for this sand expanded from agricultural applications to use in building materials and later water filtration.  Dauchez shows us these workers of the strand and river -- farmers of sea /sailors of sand, in their red and blue jackets, as they fill their boats, the sails rolled up into the boom, waiting for the tide and later the wind to take this heavy load upstream.


http://www.bretagne-racines.ac-rennes.fr/p290695Y/sablier.htm

On the North Coast of Brittany, the same exploitation of maërl sands moved up the Lannion and Morlaix rivers from surrounding estuaries.








As a modern agricultural practice introduced mid-century, maërl sand was added to reduce soil acidity (similar to the use of lime) and to impart magnesium, iron and other trace minerals. This is a scarce resource today that has led to dragging the ocean floor for maerl, to augment the fertility of the land (other uses of maerl include the making of concrete). In this unsustainable practice, nutrients move across the coastline, somewhat like the action of a swollen river spilling onto its floodplain, but a bit more like the displacement of matter effected by quarrying.





Maërl is a Breton name given to coralline red algae (or calcified algae), which grows in Northern European, shallow (and cool) sublittoral waters at the slow rate of about 1mm per year.  Unlike kelp and other rockweeds, maërl does not need to attach to a hard surface, and so can grow across mud, sand or loose pebbly bottoms.  In addition to the Brittany coast, this red and rock-hard seaweed grows in the coastal, wave-exposed waters of Ireland, Scotland and Cornwall. The red color of the growing plant bleaches to white when its dead and chalky skeletal remains wash up as sediment, mixed with the silica as sand. 




Coralline algae store large amounts of carbon in their cell walls in the form of calcium carbonate. This is the same material that formed the chalk cliffs of Normandy in the Cretaceous period, as calcium carbonate-rich sediment from coccolithophores, skeletal remains of the planktonic algae,  gradually accumulated on the bottom of the shallow warm seas that covered much of Northern Europe. 

In maërl beds, living algae grow atop layers of dead maerl, forming an environment  (like a coral reef) that is inhabited by many other forms of sea life.


An essay on the Nature and importance of Maerl Beds" posted on the UK Special Marine Areas Conservation website notes that living maerl beds are "a unique assemblage of biotopes."  



A "biotope" is "[t]he habitat (i.e. the environment’s physical and chemical characteristics) together with its recurring associated community of species, operating together at a particular scale... The habitat encompasses the substratum and the particular conditions of wave exposure and other factors which contribute to the overall nature of the location. The term community refers to a similar association of species which regularly recurs in widely separated geographical locations."
This is a wonderfully rich term, that is more vibrantly inclusive (of all interdependent life within a specific zone) than the concept of a habitat (a backdrop or residence of a living thing).  Living maerl is  topos, biological place, and powerful metaphor.

The biodiversity of shallow water maërl biotopes is explored extensively in the lavish, full-page illustrations of Etude de la Mer (1913), a deluxe marine biology text magnificently illustrated by Breton artist, Mathurin Méheut. The fleshy mauve of corralline algae repeats through many of Méheut's illustrations of sea life, set "sur un fond d'Algues Calcaires."  As Méheut shows us repeatedly, living coralline algae is the essential substrate of its complex biotope. This is noted in the
in the Encyclopedia of Tidepools and Rocky Shores:

"Many organisms have evolved to live in or on calcified algae as an alternative hard substratum.   For instance, certain species of bryozoans, hydroids, fleshy seaweeds, and calcified crusts grow directly on articulated coralline fronds in tidepools. Amphipods and polychaetes wrap themselves in calcified articulated fronds, and worms burrow into calcified crusts. Abalone, sea stars, limpets, chitons, and reef corals often recruit to coralline algae. Reef corals, in particular, chemically detect, metamorphose, and settle on or near coralline algae, which presumably indicate favorable coral habitat.  Similarly, many corallines grow as epiphytes on sea grasses and other algae and on the shells of snails, mussels, and barnacles. Occasionally the thickness of coralline accumulations
far exceeds that of the shell of the organism on which it is growing."   (Steneck and Martone
, 2007)


 



Describing Meheut's images of sea life, Gustave Babin waxed florid in 1913:

Ici, des lits de roches noires comme des houilles, bleues comme des ardoises, striées de bandes plus claires ou plus sombres, que viennent revêtir, encroûter comme d'une moisissure rose pâle, mamelonnée, des algues calcaires; et, sur ce champ, cette trame de beau tapis, s'épanouissent des gorgones, d'un incarnat de corail, des actinies rouge capucine, blanches avec des coeurs de chrome, telles des pâquerettes, vertes autour d'un bouton de velours brun, et faisant songer aux monstrueux échinocactus des terres chaudes, rayonnent des oursins jaune d'or, vert mousse, pourpre sombre, ponctués de flamme et d'or, rivalisant d'éclat avec les chrysanthèmes de nos automnes, des étoiles de mer défiant la splendeur des laques, des cadmiums, des cobalts les plus riches, tandis que de modestes moules, vêtues d'épiscopal violet ou de bleu de roi, cristallisent leurs colonies en décoratives rosaces. Plus loin, voici des prairies verdoyantes de zostères, longues et frêles lanières qui sont les gramens de la mer, tout étoilées par les spirographes de corolles jaunes: on dirait quelque pâtis terrestre, jonché de pissenlits, au printemps; mais ces fleurs épanouies sont vivantes, étranges animaux qui, à la moindre alerte, rentreront leurs tentacules d'ocre, qu'on prendrait pour les pétales tubuliformes de quelque bizarre reine-marguerite, et refermeront leur petit couvercle de nacre. ( L'Illustration, No. 3695, 1913).


Dauchez and Meheut do not give us the romantic notion of a Brittany that is one solid mass of rugged granite. Their images of the shore are specific to the place and, in Dauchez's case, to the practices of the human communities that inhabit it.  The living color of Meheut's maerl is gone from Dauchez's pale sand, but both artists present us with a realist vision of the shore's biotopes.







Links:







http://patrimoine.region-bretagne.fr/sdx/sribzh/main.xsp?execute=show_document&id=PALISSYIM22004048




http://arbannour.free.fr/histoire/les_chemins_de_sable.htm



http://www.sand-atlas.com/en/page/16/


Alain Bourbigot, marinier sur l'Odet de 1925 à 1963

 http://www.bretagne-racines.ac-rennes.fr/p290695Y/sablier.htm



Pêcheurs de sables by jfp

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Elodie La Villette on a rocky strand




Elodie La Villette, Chemin du Bas Fort Blanc, Dieppe, 1885,  Musée de Morlaix 
(photo taken by the author in 2014 with permission)
One of the many great paintings owned by the Musée de Morlaix (the permanent collection has been closed for several years),  is this coastal landscape by Elodie la Villette that will soon be coming out of storage for a summer exhibition at the Musée des Jacobins (Morlaix, June 14 to October 31,  2014), Elodie La Villette et Caroline Espinet : regards croisés de deux soeurs.  La Villette was a remarkable artist. She was born in Strasbourg, but spent most of her life in Brittany, in Lorient and on the Quiberon peninsula, in Portivy. La Villette studied with several prominent painters, including Corot, and she emulated many of Courbet's techniques, and especially admired his paintings of the Normandy coast from the 1860s-1870.
Gustave Courbet, The Cliffs at Etretat after a Storm 1870, Musée d'Orsay

 Her Salon debut was in 1870, and in 1875 she won a third-class medal. Over the course of her very successful career, she showed in London, Barcelona, Munich, Copenhagen, Chicago, Vienna, Namur, Amsterdam, Manchester, Ghent, and Brussels. In the 1870s and 80s, she was the only woman artist showing large-scale landscapes at the Paris Salons. La Villette also showed yearly with the Union des Femmes Peintres et Sculpteurs, the first exhibition society for women artists.  Typical of the backhanded compliment that women artists often received, critic Henri Olleris in 1880 wrote of her work at the Palace of Industry in Paris that it showed a 

completely virile talent.  There is no trace of feminine weakness in these paintings. The land is solid, the horizons are distant, the sea is full of movement. The first impression produced, which is true, is that of a great sincerity and a great finesse of observation.   These qualities, combined with a skill of execution, brings to light these works that most justly appreciated. 

"No feminine weakness": such was the sort of praise one could only hope for as a woman who painted landscape and seriously engaged with the challenge of evoking a place. La Villette, especially in this painting, did not subscribe to a notion of feminine weakness-- quite the reverse.

Pouring over details from this remarkable landscape, and returning to photos I took on the beach, very near Dieppe, in 2012, I would like to explore the relationships in this painting between the small human figures and use some Rachel Carson's very poetic observations about marine biology in regard to what she termed the “interchangability of land and sea in this marginal world of the shore.”

The white chalk cliffs at Dieppe (on the left) attracted many artists in the mid-to late 19th century, as tourism grew on the Normandy coast.  Antoine Guillemet, a painter who was a student of Corot and Daubigny and later close friends with Emile Zola, Claude Monet and Paul Cézanne exhibited large-scale, crowd-pleasing seascapes such as this image of the white cliffs of Puy and tidal areas of the beach near Dieppe in the Salons of the 1870s. Guillemet, like La Villette,  never embraced the heightened pallete or completely broken brushstroke of Monet's Impressionism, preferring the open-air, sketch aesthetic of the Romantics and Realists.



Jean-Baptiste Antoine Guillemet, The Cliffs of Puys at Low Tide, 1877, Chateau Museum, Dieppe


In the 1830s, like La Villette, romantic-era landscapist Eugène Isabey was interested in the life of those who work on the beach-- he includes a fisherman's shack and a wooden cart at the base of the cliffs.


Eugène Louis Gabriel Isabey, Le château de Dieppe (vu du bas de la falaise) (1830s?)








The rude life of those who  worked on the shore, and  lived in the fishermen's quarter of Le Pollet  was a staple of painting and popular illustration in the earlier nineteenth century.

Corot, Fisherman's Wife, Dieppe c.1822


A. Bayol, Dieppe, 1846
Le Pollet "Les Gobes", 1771


From an early 19th century series
of engravings of the fisherpeople
 of Le Pollet, the fisherman's quarter of Dieppe.




Cliff dwellers in "les Gobes," Dieppe



The description of these regional "types" was also a staple of later post card photographers who sought out the cliff-dwelling fishers who lived so rudely, yet so close to the large port and fashionable beach of Dieppe. Some of these fisherfolk had been displaced from Le Pollet during the nineteenth-century industrial overhaul of the harbor.  Some of the caves in the cliffs were abandoned stone quarries.


Fishers' home in the cliff.








The practice of re-using fishing boats as sheds or shacks seemed likewise a fascinating example of peasant thrift and economy.


Further up the coast, in Equihen, near Boulogne-sur-Mer, fishermen made homes called "quilles en l'air" with the no-longer seaworthy boats turned upside down, (today these are holidays cottages). Evincing the same fascination with peasant thrift and filth that I have written about in an earlier post, much of this imagery posits the fishers as ekeing out an existence on the margins of a place in the process of change.


Fishing family living in a home made from an overturned wooden boat know as "Quille en l'air," Boulogne sur Mer.







 La Villette, Chemin du Bas Fort Blanc, detail.
Returning to La Villette's painting, I would like to look closely at her interest in this strip of coastline and the human and ecological life depicted there. Villette does depict the strand as inhabited, but she does not dwell on this aestheticization of poverty or romantic primitivism. 

detail


 Right at the edge of the sea are two barely visible figures, bent over, arms madly working. Are these children playing? People digging for shellfish or cutting seaweed exposed by the low tide? 

detail


 To the right of the ship (traveling along on the horizon line) is another group of  three figures (one may be a child) and further right, by a small boat are two more; one holds a red parasol. Are the two on the left part of a small boating party on the right? Like Monet,  La Villette's staffage figures invite a curious eye as they depict recognizable gestures using a bare economy of means. La Villette’s marine landscapes often include human presences in the form of small figures in the foreground or staffage figures at a distance but they draw no hard distinctions between the life of those on the shore and on the water, often including those figures who linger to look as well as those who work the low tide, gathering shellfish and seaweed at its ebb.
Her figures do not loom large above the horizon, as they do so often in Jules Breton’s heroic paintings. There is no room for anecdote or rags as in the images of fishers above.  Even in comparison to Eugène Feyen's Gleaners of the Sea, which is packed with the silhouettes and postures of working in the intertidal world, La Villette's forms are less anecdotal, and do not break the horizon.


Eugène Feyen, Gleaners of the Sea, 1871


The most prominent figure in her Dieppe painting is a mostly black outline of a female figure (in a dark dress and white kerchief or coiffe) with a square shape behind her back.


 La Villette, Chemin du Bas Fort Blanc, detail.


detail
In the catalog Impressions of France (1996), John House suggested that "this is a typical image of the Normandy beaches, with the figure of a woman carrying a mussel-fishing basket, and nets handing on posts behind her."

 Ulysses Butin was a naturalist painter much admired by Vincent Van Gogh, who often represented genre scenes of coastal peasants.  In this painting (that recently showed up on the art market) he depicted women returning from picking mussels with their baskets.



Late nineteenth and early twentieth century postcards depict women of Normandy and the Channel coast carrying mussels in baskets on their arm (like Butin and Corot's painting above) and on their backs.  However, the baskets are not worn higher than their heads and nets have nothing to do with mussel picking.





Nets were used for shrimp fishing, and this too was a favorite subject for artists and photographers.




But there is something else that Villette's woman might be collecting, that would lend a very interesting subject to this painting:  this woman walking the beach at low tide, among the stones on the shore, rather than among the large rocks farther out where mussels grow, may be a rock picker.

Flint in chalk cliffs.  source: http://craies.crihan.fr/?page_id=36

The chalk cliffs of this section of Normandy beaches were formed by the high yet shallow seas of the Cretaceous period (which gets its name from the chalk deposits laid down during this era). Carson,  in The Sea Around Us  (1951) discusses the layering of flint stones these cliffs and their poetic temporal resonance:


the chalk seems to be a shallow-water deposit, but it is so pure in texture that the surrounding lands must have been low deserts, from which little material was carried seaward. Grains of wind-borne quartz sand, which frequently occur in the chalk, support this view. At certain levels the chalk contains nodules of flint. Stone Age men mined the flint for weapons and tools and also used this relic of the Cretaceous sea to light their fires.



This somewhat loose sediment is shot through with seams and nodules of black flint (silex in French). Because of erosion, flint falls from the soft chalk cliff and becomes gradually rounded by the action of waves into hard, dark stones-- known in the area as "galets." 


gathering stones at Le Tréport, 1920s




Women collected the rounded rocks in baskets carried on their backs.  Horses then pulled the heavy cartloads or transported large bins of stones from the beach.  


 

In the Middle Ages, these flint stones had been used as projectiles. Many homes in Dieppe, Le Tréport and other towns in the area are made of these hard stones.
 
Detail of a building in Le Tréport showing flint in concrete.


 In more recent times they were exported to England and the US (sometimes as ballast) and were also ground down for use in cosmetics, medications and ceramics (a certain type of the sought after black stones were used by Wedgewood). Large scale collection of these stones for sale began in the late 18th century and was widespread by the time La Villette was working. Collection of "galets" was banned in 1985 (although in Cayeux sur Mer in Picardie, beach stones are collected en masse and industrially polished for a range of uses.  The recent film Bord de Mer (2002) is set there.)




Bas Fort Blanc. from http://www.estrancitedelamer.fr/

flint nodules in the cliff
foreground, detail
 The horizontal rocky strand of the beach is a result of the falling away of these vertical cliffs, laid down 100 million years ago. The center line of white in this painting is the limestone footings of previous cliffs that now lie in the tideline. 

Beyond them, to the right, are rocks covered in the green algae and seaweed of deeper water and shorter exposure to the air. 

The time of the diurnal tides meets the time of labor, the time of vacation, the deep time of sedimentation and rapid erosion.  As Carson wrote in the opening to her second sea book, The Edge of the Sea:

The edge of the sea is a strange and beautiful place. All through the long history of Earth it has been an area of unrest where waves have broken heavily against the land, where the tides have pressed forward over the continents, receded and then returned. For no two successive days is the shore line precisely the same. Not only do the tides advance and retreat in their eternal rhythms, but the level of the sea itself is never at rest. It rises or falls as the glaciers melt or grow, as the floor of the deep ocean basins shifts under its increasing load of sediments, or as the earth's crust along the continental margins warps up or down in adjustment to strain and tension. Today a little more land may belong to the sea, tomorrow a little less. Always the edge of the sea remains an elusive and indefinable boundary.

on the edge of a few tidal pools are newly fallen, black stones that  litter the foreground of the painting, right in the path of the woman who heads toward us. 


Gustave Courbet, Laundresses at Low Tide (known as The Seaweed Gatherers), 1866-68.
Clark Art Institute, Williamstown.


Courbet, The Cliffs at Etretat after a Storm 1870, detail.

Like Courbet's paintings of Etretat, La Villette finds the shore occupied with human life. He had included miniscule laundresses washing clothing at the fresh water springs that rose up in the sand at low tide. 







Laundresses at Etretat, from a vintage postcard.



La Villette shows us many small figures, but the woman who may be a rock picker bears a very heavy burden in her harvest of stones.This was surely "no feminine weakness."


La Villette, detail




Afterthought:  After finishing this post, I found this image of a "Mussel Fisher" by Concarneau artist Alfred Guillou (but do not know why a mussel-picker would have a shrimping net).

Another afterthought: La Villette probably knew of this celebrated Salon painting (often mistakenly labeled "chicken woman" in English), whose eroticization of a fisherwoman could not be more distant from her artistic practice.

Antoine Vollon, Woman of Le Pollet at Dieppe, Salon of 1876