Face in the street

In the family albums there is a silhouette, one of those strange precursors of the black and white photograph, made by cutting an outline portrait of the sitter in black paper, and then placing it against a white background. I don't know how old it is, but it goes back quite a way, judging by the clothes being worn.

Well, today, in the streets of old Antibes, I was introducing young A to the sight of a magnificent grey cat sunning itself in a doorway. It turned out that the cat (and other equally pampered specimens) belonged to a well-known Chinese artist who has his studio here. As a sideline from sculpture in clay, he does silhouette portraits.

I asked him whether this was still practiced in China. No, he said, it was as rare as here, and then offered to do a portrait of A in one minute flat. Keen to see whether he could keep his promise, I said yes. He was a real psychologist, keeping A's attention whilst cutting out the black shape with enormous wooden, yes wooden shears. And, one minute later, he rang a bell, A slipped from his trance, and the portrait was ready.

As he was cutting away, I told him about the old family silhouette. Intrigued, he offered to do me, too, for free. By this time, there was quite a crowd watching.

Nice man, nice cats, and nice portraits.