Tag Archives: Scherl

Scherl Boffo at Box Office

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I hadn’t even realized how nervous I was until I woke up Saturday morning and didn’t want to get out of bed, then I remembered that for the past week my hands had been shaking when I tried to write, food had been an afterthought and I had totally forgotten how to speak French.

There wasn’t really any reason to be nervous. The photos were printed, framed and hung, invitations were out, posters were posted. My remarks were written and my accent honed. There was nothing left to do except show up. And there, I think is the fear. What if no one came?

©2012 Ron Scherl

Irrational of course, but there’s a part of me that thinks if I hadn’t worried no one would have come.

But they came, more than I expected, they enjoyed the show, bought some prints, and understood and applauded my speech. I talked about how different it was to come to a small town in France after living all my life in large US cities and what a pleasure it is to walk around the village and exchange bonjours with everyone. I talked about how special a place Maury is. I thanked the winemakers for sharing their knowledge and passion with me and thanked the mayor and others for welcoming me into their community. And that welcome was the essence of this day, my real initiation into the village of Maury.

I don’t have any photos of the event, it was the only thing I neglected, but here are a few images of the venue in morning sunlight, followed by a gallery of the exhibit.

©2012 Ron Scherl

©2012 Ron Scherl

Show Time

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Exhibition PosterI’ve started printing images for an exhibition to open in April and I’m really pleased with the work. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to say that. I can always find things that I think could have been done better but for the most part, I’m happy. And this output, a 17x 22 inch print is critical, since my analog photo background doesn’t see the image as complete until it’s printed. Of course it really isn’t since the RAW file is just a negative subject to interpretation in the next stage of the process. The only real difference is the lack of nasty chemicals to breathe.

So the shutters are closed, the space heater on full power sits next to my desk and I sit here layered with turtleneck, hooded sweatshirt, sweater, scarf and fleece trying to keep my brain working and my fingers moving. It’s very cold here. If you ask the locals if it’s unusually cold (and I’m now fluent in weather), you’ll get one of three answers: oui, non, or just a shrug, the all-purpose French gesture with multiple meanings. In this case I translate it as beh, it’s the weather, what can you do, a sentiment that applies to everything you can’t find a way to blame on Sarkozy.

While it’s probably not his fault – I think you can make a better case for blaming Ronald Reagan – last summer’s heat and this winter’s cold provide a lot of evidence that our climate is stretching at the edges and the comfort zone is shrinking.

The temperature hovers around 30o Fahrenheit, but the wind keeps blowing through the valley and right through this house, which the renovators never expected to be occupied in the winter. Even with the shutters closed the wind can rattle the windowpanes and you just know the heat is flying right out the windows. I haven’t been this cold since my last night game at Candlestick.

The cold also keeps people indoors and isolated. There’s no real tradition of visiting homes, people greet and chat on the streets, but not now. The town could really use a hospitable place to gather but the café doesn’t seem to work that way. I’m not sure why but it just doesn’t feel welcoming and I’m told that’s especially true for women.

Photo of vineyards in snow

Vineyards in Snow ©2012 Ron Scherl

The exhibit features vineyards in summer heat, autumn color and under snow, and portraits of winemakers. Most of the shooting is done. Last week I photographed the first woman president of the Cave Cooperative leaving two more portraits to do. I’d also like a spring landscape if it arrives in time.

It’s very satisfying to do work that’s enjoyable and personally significant, to do it well and have that recognized. It may be a small pond but it’s a nice place to swim.