Paris 3: The Struggle of The Street Artists

Is becoming an artist worth a lifetime of sacrifice? ~
Paris Memoir Part One | Part Two

It's dark but my memory is clear. I see myself in the evening in the Latin Quarter, together with Davy Lim. Me and him with our drawing boards and camping seats,  scoping boulevard Saint Michel in search of a spot to work overtime. Just to raise some extra francs with a couple of portraits under a street lamp, perhaps of some tipsy tourists.

Davy Lim today at his spot in Place du Tertre, Montmartre

Oh yes, the street lamps evoke other jobs, indeed we too were hookers after all!

Davy Lim back in the 80's

Davy is a British citizen of Malaysian origin, and I immediately had great admiration for him. He's a terrific draftman! While he draws I try to learn from him, to steal his craft. I look at him like you look at a mentor, even though he is only two or three years older than me and never tried to teach me anything.

My escape from drugs and terrorism

I am very atypical for a southern Italian. We are in the 80s. At such a young age I lead a totally unique life! At twenty years old, my peers go to college, have middle class ambitions or in any case do not leave the comfort of mamma cooking pasta for them. Those who reject this prospect end up involved in the political violence or devastated by heroin and then by AIDS. Hundreds of them. Ultimately, my trip to Paris was an escape from both of these deadly destinies.

Davy Lim's artist studio view in the South of France

Nevertheless it seems to me that I am far too respectable compared to Davy. He smokes and drinks the English way, that is, on an empty stomach. At most he grabs some junk food. I'm too Italian: picky about eating, matching shirts with trousers and drinking like an altar boy!

• I was a chain smoker and drank a fast beer after almost every portrait. At the St Michel pitch, near the old Gilbert Jeune bookshop, there was a bar right opposite the lamp post I claimed for the night shift. Yeah, all I ate was junk food. I've got emphysema now because of the cigarettes, and I've had to give up the booze..

Davy lived outside Paris with his girlfriend, a French sculptor. One day we go to Montreuil, I think he hosted me for a couple of nights, I don't know why. But above all he paints a portrait of me in acrylic on green pastel Canson paper, like the one we draw charcoal portraits on. It's the dearest souvenir I have from that era! I've kept it in a drawer all these years like a relic, but now is time to frame it and hang it on the best wall of the studio!

Buying a house with portraits money

Later, once the story with the sculptress is over, he will tell me that he bought a house. He takes me to a small apartment, well not exactly an apartment!

• My room was 12 sqm. Yep, there was a mezzanine and just enough space for a studio easel and painting equipment. There were no cooking facilities. Turkish toilette on the landing. There my neighbour (absolutely horrible character) used to leave me disgusting presents up and down the walls. It cost me 65,000 francs (some $36,000 of today) No regrets at all!

In that period Davy took on some commissions for sacred paintings. I think it was his plan B for the winter. I admire this about him too. That ability to build brick by brick, with sacrifice but with the clear priority of financial security. Quite the opposite of me!

Four decades later

We met again a few years ago. I discovered that Davy is a YouTube star and to my surprise, that after forty years he is still working in Montmartre! Despite his precarious health, he insists on riding his scooter three times a week to the same spot that was assigned him many years ago.

• I got my official authorization in 1994, and my first "pitch" was no. 101. I am still sitting on the same spot. Though it's now called no. 84.

We had lunch and he congratulates me for having the guts to get off the street and develop my art. “I think you had a natural talent and so much potential” - says Davy. I know that his amazing talent could be expressed in different ways but he preferred to win his bread on the field. The road allowed him to send the son he adopted with his partner Agnes to an International school. Much respect!

• As decrepitude goes up, it’s more and more difficult to work on the street now, especially in winter. But I feel totally blessed to have spent my whole life being free and doing something so enjoyable! I hope to spend more time to serious painting in the small atelier we have in the South of France. But it's still nice to have access to an easy and fun source of income in a legendary location like Montmartre!

If you happen to be in Paris, you know who to ask for a portrait! You can also visit Davy Lim online https://www.davylim.com/ ~ https://www.youtube.com/c/DavyLimvideos/videos

Happy Art Life! -- Francesco

PS. I realize my Paris story could go on forever. I should  consider writing a book. Please let me know if you want to read more about it. 

Acrylic portrait of Francesco Fontana by Davy Lim, Paris 1982

Through Ian, Jeanne Marie and Davy I told the stories of some different ways to experience the journey of painting starting from my youth. I understand that these stories of mine can demystify the legend of bohemian Paris and demolish the belief that the life of the artist is always fun and privilege.

The truth is that choosing from a young age to make a living from your art almost always costs enormous sacrifices and sometimes terrible misadventures. Is it worth it? Yes, definitely! The reward is a strong sense of identity, the realization of who you truly feel you are. Belonging to some kind of brotherhood, even if your real friends in the business are two or three.

This generates a form of happiness that is not visible to others but very profound. People think success is fame and wealth, but before that there is the pride of having carved out a place in the world based on your talent and tenacity. The fulfillment of being able to give people emotions through your art, which can sometimes last a lifetime.

Paris Memoir Part One | Part Two

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