A moonlit bedroom in Provence, the window is open to let the warm air flow through. A homey image to stir the romantic memories of times shared there. This illustration was part of a letter, but the text supposed "compromising" has been erased.
I came across these pictures in the American edition of House and Garden from October 1987. I was struck by the lengthy articles and in depth information to be found. American and British magazines are always more ambitiously expansive than their French counterparts, but in these days, it was even more the case. The article by John Richardson that accompanies the pictures carries the titillating title Picasso's Secret Love and it tells the story of the lost year in Picasso's liaisons amoureuses, 1915-16. Decidedly, there could have been no respite in this domain for Picasso; there had to be a woman on the scene and at that moment, it was Gabrielle (Depeyre)Lespinasse. Wedged between Eva Gouel and Olga Kokhlova, she was never heard of until the 1950s when she sold some of the artwork he had given her. Not much of her relationship with Picasso is known even today.
The letters and paintings are touching, naive. In our world where everything becomes more clever and sophisticated just to survive, these gentle, almost childish declarations from the great and godly Picasso astonish. "Don't be sad," he scratches in blue ink and encourages her "to take your mind off things by looking at the little dining room. I will be so happy with you."
Je t'aime de toutes les couleurs. The simple surroundings must have been their haven of love.
JE T'AIME JE T'AIME JE T'AIME... in six different colors.
The belle Gaby shown in profile.
A collage commemorating their love. The inscription shows how serious Picasso was about Gaby. "I have asked the good lord for your hand." At 35 Picasso had never expressed faith in God nor a desire to be married.
Their interlacing names, a calligraphic embrace. Did Picasso ever have anyone who called him by his first name?
Gaby
Depeyre was promised to another and went on her own way to marry him.
Lespinasse was an American painter-engraver. The lack of details known about Gaby and Picasso's affair speaks well of the discretion of all those concerned.
A country hide away belonging to my friend Catherine.
A place to escape the driving city beat and to get back in touch with the earth. Especially important for Catherine, who gave up a beautiful apartment to live with her amoureux in a peniche (houseboat) on the Seine.
This house in Normandy has since been renovated, but all the poetic simplicity is still intact. It's a matter of understanding a place. Everything doesn't have to be sophisticated. We need contrasts in this life.
It all sounds so idyllic doesn't it, a weekend escape to the country? For two out-of-work actors in one of the most hilarious films I know, a trip to country is a way of avoiding their squalid flat and the nasty questioning that too much idle time brings. Withnail and I's two central characters, played by Richard E. Grant (Withnail) and Paul McGann (I), are in desperate need of a break from the grim life of waiting for a role in 1969 London. Of course, being down and out, the only solution is to approach Withnail's fabulous uncle Monty (Richard Griffiths) to persuade him to loan the keys to his country home. Seeing the amber comfort of his London home, their prospects for a comfortable stay seem excellent. From a decorating point of view, this is the story of three homes, of which Monty's is the first.
Next is the aspiring actors shared grey Camden flat - a wreck steeped in personal memorabilia, but not completely devoid of charm, or wouldn't be if Withnail were not such an impractical slob. Their kitchen is the worst of it with unwashed dishes that have stacked up to a scary state with suspected rodent life crawling beneath it. And then there's Danny the dealer friend who has a way of showing up all the time.
So off to the country it is. Only, it would be better not to arrive completely unprepared at night in the pouring rain with Withnail in a railing state of drunkenness. 
This third home is not exactly the idyllic escape they had imagined. I've rented enough country houses through the years to know they are not always easy to settle in and planning is important in places you go to get away from it all if you want to do simple things like eat.
Things look pretty grim. Simple things like heat, food, and adequate booze are not easy to come by. The country folk are less than welcoming and take them for extraterrestrials. And they might as well be for all they understand of how to do things for themselves where they have landed. "We've gone on holiday by mistake!" they explain, begging for help finding food in the drenched countryside.
But when Monty shows up by surprise, his talent makes all those mundane worries disappear. Suddenly we don't recognize the house. Cold, creaky, and uninhabitable become cottage-y, cozy and warm. The gramophone is cranked up. Food becomes cuisine; thirst is more than quenched with fine wines -but some appetites cannot be satisfied. Withnail has encouraged certain misunderstandings in lovesick Monty.... And as for their acting careers, Monty, too, had once had theatrical aspirations, but he sighs, there's always ''that morning when you wake up and say, 'Alas, I shall never play the Dane.' " 
