Iconic Gardens

"Tuileries Icons"

12 x 16 inches, Oil on Cradled Panel

(c) Lesley Powell

(SOLD)

I'm illustrating this post with a new series of paintings inspired by the grand public gardens of Paris.  Two of my very favorite spots in Paris are the Luxembourg Gardens and the Tuileries Gardens. They have it all:  flowers, green lawns, sculptures, fountains, and wonderful people-watching.  Here are some fun facts about these gardens. 

"Together"

12 x 9 inches, Oil on Cradled Panel

(c) Lesley Powell

The Jardin des Tuileries take their name from tile making factories that once stood on that spot.  The French word for tile is "tuile".  "Tuileries" are workshops that made roof tiles, which occupied the area during the Middle Ages.  Catherine de Médici kept the name when she built her palace there in 1564--and so it carries on today.

"Two Pairs", 12 x 9 inches, (c) Lesley Powell

Both the Tuileries and Luxembourg Gardens have a symmetry  defined by broad walkways.  The walkways are not your ordinary sand or gravel.  Non!  They are made with a traditional French mixture called "stabilisé".  It's a combination of crushed gravel, sand and whitewash.  Stabilisé was developed in the 1600's by the great garden designer André Le Nôtre.  It is beautiful to look at, and has a pleasing crunch under foot, but boy can it be dusty. 

"Three's a Crowd"

12 x 16 inches, Oil on Cradled Panel

(c) Lesley Powell

I especially love the green metal chairs that grace these gardens. The Sénat chairs are unique to the Luxembourg Gardens, and cannot be purchased by the public.  But a close interpretation was introduced in 2002, and is widely available.  It's made of aluminum, so is much lighter, and called the "Luxembourg" chair.  I wish I had a spot at home to put a few of these--a way to bring Paris home.  These paintings are another way.

"Adjoining", 9 x 12 inches, Oil on Linen Panel, (c) Lesley Powell

And to conclude:  One reason I love these places is that they are virtually unchanged from a hundred years ago.  Look at these paintings by John Singer Sargent and Felix Vallotton, and you will see the same features we enjoy today. The mounted urns and sculptures and balustrades have stood the test of time.  Enjoy!

John Singer Sargent, "In the Luxembourg Gardens", 1879

Felix Vallatton, 1895

Thought for the New Year

Some things bear repeating, so please indulge me with this post, much of which I wrote a few years back.  The New Year is the time when everybody focuses on goals and improvement. It's easy to make resolutions to improve our skills, or our productivity.  But every serious painter knows the hard truth: there are many stumbles on the path to improvement, and you must be willing to fall, and then pick yourself back up, and start over. Progress can be sporadic (and that's an understatement). Many hours must be put in. Courage and perseverance are key.

 

I reflected on this truth while reading an article that discussed how babies learn to walk. Toddlers learning to walk are so determined that they travel the length of about eight football fields in ONE HOUR. During that hour, they fall an average of 30 times. It takes 2.6 million steps for them to become proficient at walking. As the article notes, a failure rate like this would be deeply discouraging (the article even said "catastrophic") for an adult trying to learn a new skill. 

Toddlers persevere in learning to walk because faster, hands-free mobility is thrilling to them.  Adults persevere in our endeavors because mastery of a new skill is nirvana. 

Toddlers also teach us that learning is not linear.  They often start to walk, and then revert to crawling for a while. Their progress is U-shaped.  In other words, when learning a new skill, we often get worse before we get better.

Another important lesson is that infants learn best "when operating near the limits of their current skill level."  The takeaway for the rest of us is clear:  Always be "at the edge of what you can't currently do."  

 "Stacked"

18 x 12, Oil on Cradled Panel

(c) Lesley Powell 2026

I've written about the creative process before, and the example of toddlers learning to walk reinforces some of the notions I explored then. It's a nice concrete example to keep in mind as we start the New Year.  Yes, it's frustrating to be at the edge of what you can't currently do--but oh, the rewards are great when you can push that boundary a little bit further!  Wishing you all a happy and healthy 2026!

Paris Petites

The month of May--what a marvelous month to be in Paris!  I tried to soak up every bit of the French capital that I could.  In addition to croissants and delicious stinky cheeses and visits to museums, I spent hours out and about with my easel, painting.  Painting on location is a way to really SEE.  It forces you to slow down and take in all the aspects of your surroundings. 

"Seine Reflections", 9.5 x 7.5 inches, Oil on Canvas Panel

One of my favorite places to paint in Paris is along the quais of the Seine.  The river is always a different color, depending on the sky, the sun, the winds, and the time of day.  So no painting of the same spot is ever the same!  And did I mention the beautiful bridges, and the reflections they make in the water?

"Louvre, Morning Effect", 6.25 x 9.5 inches, Oil on Canvas Panel

I also love to paint in the gardens.  It's hard to say which is my favorite--the Luxembourg Gardens or the Tuileries.  Both have wide passages of white-ish sandy gravel, creating shapes and angles that are very appealing.  Both are punctuated by monuments of quintessentially French architecture (the Sénat building at Luxembourg, or the Louvre at the Tuileries).  So much to savor!

""Pont Marie, Soft Light", 8 x8 inches, Oil on Linen, mounted on panel

I'm illustrating this post with several paintings I did on location in my favorite spots.  These and more are available at the time of this post (July 7, 2025) on my website, here.  Take a look, and enjoy this virtual trip to Paris!