Pick up your pens!

In a relaxed and friendly atmosphere, some people are resuming work they’ve already begun during an earlier session: Christine’s tackling English capitals. Sylvie is busy working on a citation. But I’m having my first calligraphy lesson. Richard provides the necessary materials. My writing tool isn’t what I expected: it has a flat nib, because pointed nibs are only used for styles of writing that require a certain level of skill. For ink, Richard uses walnut stain, which is “chic and not expensive”. We’re working on large sheets of white paper, and through them we can see a “stave” showing the lines we are to follow. Displaying an abundance of both teaching skill and humour, Richard suggests that I “draw some scales”. The exercise consists of a succession of strokes to be copied, to become familiar with the basic movements. Feeling a little apprehensive, I have a go!

We are paper dancers

Just like a choreographer, for each student Richard corrects a movement or the position of the body in relation to the sheet. The angle of the stroke, its thickness, its colour and its density are all signs that enable the calligrapher to assess and amend the work carried out. Here, though, it’s not a question of being judged. Sophie, who is sitting next to me, likes the sensation of “release” that she experiences when she comes to these classes. I spend a few moments going round having a look at the work of the other participants to see what they have achieved in terms of different approaches and techniques. Later, when we go our separate ways, we all feel satisfied that it’s been a day of achievement, and we are quite overwhelmed by the emotions that have been stirred up in us by practising a skill under the guidance of a true master.

Je me sens peu à peu délicieusement détendue.