When I return to ‘The Gauguin Museum’ in French Polynesia the paintings on the gallery walls remind me of the snippets of life that my family keep closest. Paul Gauguin’s paintings remind me of my parents marriage, they remind me partly of my heritage and they remind me of my families travels around the world. My father left the Pacific to meet the world, to see cities far and wide…
London, Paris, Delhi, New York and beyond… To taste different cultures, languages, cuisines and different ways of life… But little did he know… Along the way he would meet his wife too. The ethnic photography model with long oriental hair, dark eyes and a capturing gaze that people couldn’t look away from. They met outside a movie theater in New York City, amidst the New York winter. Perhaps it was a liking at first sight, or perhaps my father couldn’t resist the attention of the woman with noticeable charisma, she liked him too. Little did he know that after a movie and a few coffees… A marriage would transpire. My parents married each other after only knowing each other for a total of four weeks.
After marriage my parents decided to leave for a life in Thailand… Where my sisters grew up. Life in the South East consisted of language, business and travel. My parents communicated in Indonesian for business, Thai for living and French for networking. They travelled to Singapore frequently, and to Malaysia for holidays in Penang, which at the time, was a lot different than todays Penang. Residing in Thailand was a home base, but further was leaping through the Pacific. My siblings spent half of their lives on exotic islands, flitting in and out of aircraft’s. Once a year my family would return to the Pacific, through French Polynesia, my father liked to return at least once a year.
It was in French Polynesia where they came to meet a well known art collector named Robert Casola. One evening after a few glasses of wine at a local restaurant Robert Casola invited my family to stay in his house on the other side of the island, it was a very French Polynesian house built by locals. In his house there was art everywhere, all over the walls. His house was purely a living memorial to art, French Polynesian art. His walls were covered in paintings from the Paul Gauguin period, with the addition of a many, many Tatin paintings, some of which are priceless today.
The story of how my parents came to meet always fascinates me, but nothing fascinates me more than the stories of Robert Casola and his house of art in the French Pacific. My mind goes far beyond the boundaries of creativity when I think of Robert Casola’s house on the coast. Gauguin is to this day one of my favorite artists, not only for his inspiring art work, but for memories I have of all the stories. When I return to French Polynesia I am going to return to the Paul Gauguin museum just to refresh my memory once again.
