Art is Life, A Roadtrip: Napa, Petaluma & The Hess Collection

Surrounded by rolling green hills, vineyards, old barns and spacious green fields blooming in yellow - we could be in Southern France in July. But we’ve taken highway 121 to Di Rosa Gallery, across the road from an estate winery whose graceful outdoor patio overflows into the afternoon with wine-tasting guests. It couldn’t be more picturesque. At Di Rosa, the Gatehouse Gallery features highlights of the larger collection with beautiful views of Winery Lake.



We arrive at closing time. The grandchildren create their own ephemeral installations

in response to the sculptures on the grounds.





At the Hess Gallery and Winery in Sonoma, it’s almost evening. We're in a stately brick building with thick walls and ivy snaking up. The museum on two floors, seems empty. But really, everywhere we turn, we step into space, wonderfully interrupted by art.




Even I find an exhibit, a flaming typewriter by Leopoldo Mahler! This is the omen I am looking for: now I know: my novel will be published this year!



We are beside ourselves with the quality and skill and sheer creative genius of this collection. Here is a Franz Gertsch. Over there are four or five other portraits stretching the room the size of a barn.





We see work by Anselm Kiefer. Oh! There’s Robert Motherwell! Morris Lewis! Minjin Yue. Andy Goldsworthy! Gord and Patrick have the most fun with somber pieces by Magdalena Abakanowicz.





Hess collects the work of 20 living artists over decades in order to support their evolving work over a longer duration. His collection reflects some of the best known contemporary artists.



I reserve my last experience of found art for the sleepy town of Petaluma, a stroll-able hamlet with houses from the late1800s, a cinema, second-hand stores and houses with porches, a variety of high caliber restaurants and hip coffee shops. Most Friday nights, Petaluma Pete plays the piano in the balmy outside air. I was so enthralled, I kissed him on the cheek. He wasn't surprised.



We stayed at Hilltop Wine Country Inn, a B & B whose décor is down-to-the-detail Early American (Maurice is an antique dealer) without being ‘overly-overly’. They have two bedrooms in their spacious spic-and-span home, with a back deck, a cat and a clutch of chickens. The art here is their graciousness and hospitality, something so personal and unique that we return, if only for the sound of Maurice’s voice.

Meeting Robin Williams

It's so strange living in today's world, and so sad. That Robin Williams, a person who is so loved and admired should suffer such private hell that he felt he had to kill himself to stop the pain.

I met him,  twelve years ago at the Mill Valley Film Festival. We were filmmakers - Gord and I, and our film Singing the Bones featured at the festival, gave us a place at the table. It was the dinner-time aftermath of a tribute to Jonathan Winters, an inspiration of Robin's -- and Robin was there to pay him homage.

Whenever we're in public spaces, like restaurants, Gord always tells me to go up and order the half refill of coffee, or protest the loud music - or the lukewarm soup. He knows I 'm not afraid of talking to people to get what I want. After all, I am a Yank by birth.  I learned this 'not afraid of talking to complete strangers' from my Dad, but that's another story. So it wasn't unusual that Gord said, "You go talk to Robin."  Gord's brother, Mark Halloran knew Robin and Williams had helped Mark to acquire a green card so he could perform stand-up at The Comedy Club in Los Angeles. Gord wanted a word with Robin. To thank him for his brother. I was sent in to warm him up.

I'm an actress and have lots of courage when I'm in character, so I picked my most vivacious accented persona, my French-Canadian Nicole. I launched into her accent right away and addressed Robin directly. Luckily I speak French, because Robin immediately launched into French to answer me.

Je lui ai repondu en francais -- and then someone snapped our pic. Robin seemed uneasy to be speaking to me, but it must have been a familiar scenario -- he's famous after all. Fans have got to be introducing themselves to him all the time. I introduced Gord to Robin Williams and stepped away from the table. Robin's wife, whose hand was on his arm, stopped glaring. The whole thing took less than five minutes.

Now I have pictures of three people on my refrigerator who are dead. This is one of them.

Swaying in the gorgeous moment

 

Yoga on a stand up paddle board? In Tuwanek? I had to try it. Sunshine,  gorgeous scenery, balance and breathing. I’m an on-again/off-again yogi wanabee. Child’s Pose, Downward Dog and Tree are my favorite poses and I’m flexible so it mostly comes easy, but I don’t relax enough. Just breathe enough. Just be.

The first surprise was, I was terrified. We wore what everyone used to call ‘life jackets’ and tied our boards to our feet, at first. But the water was luscious, the sun still hot, the sky my favorite bright blue and Marnie told us we had to jump in and get wet. It was the right thing to dare us to do; after that we all relaxed.

What I discovered was: I love SUP. Tuwanek is a sweet destination.




And the swaying of the board over the moving water requires balance and mindfulness. 


 

-->

Photos by Vern Minard: http://www.vernbahtiminard.com

Stand Up Paddle Board Yoga is offered here:  http://yogabythesea.ca/sup.html

Caitlin Hicks is a writer. http://www.caitlinhicks.com/wordpress