This interesting early 20th-century oil painting by French artist Arthur Gué (1857-1916) depicts a view of Donzenac in Corrèze. It's dated June, 1906.

For Gué, travelling and painting seem to have been inseparable pleasures. He journeyed widely through France and beyond, seeking places with character: old streets, market squares, harbours, villages and the everyday architecture through which one community could be distinguished from another. His paintings often have the feeling of a traveller's visual diary - records of the small things that made him glad he'd gone.

Donzenac must have suited him perfectly. Situated around ten kilometres north of Brive-la-Gaillarde, the old fortified town occupies an outcrop overlooking the Maumont in the Corrèze. Its historic centre retains much of its medieval character, with old houses, high walls and narrow winding streets gathered around the church. Nearby Travassac was traditionally home to generations of slate workers, whose quarries supplied the distinctive stone that still covers many of the region's roofs.

When Gué arrived here, we can imagine him doing what he appears to have enjoyed most: wandering. Perhaps he spent a morning exploring the old streets before emerging into this square and deciding to stay awhile. There was certainly plenty to interest him. Across the composition, buildings seem to have accumulated organically rather than according to any particular plan. Rooflines rise and fall, chimneys interrupt the skyline, shutters are variously open and closed, and shopfronts disappear into patches of shade.

On the right, a handsome pink building catches the summer light beneath its great slate roof. Gué carefully records its timbering, windows, decorative banding and painted signs. These details mattered to him. They are precisely the things that make this Donzenac, rather than an anonymous picturesque French village.

Yet the painting never feels pedantic. Gué's eye moves easily between architecture and atmosphere. Warm sunlight spreads across the broad dusty square while the buildings around its edges provide areas of welcome shade. Above them is a pale blue sky softened by passing clouds. His brushwork loosens considerably across the foreground, where touches of pink, ochre, violet and grey suggest the irregular surface beneath the sunshine.

And then there are the people. A couple have stopped in the foreground beside a basket of vegetables. Several figures clutch pails by a fountain, while others linger around the shops and buildings beyond. Life simply continues around him.

This is perhaps where Gué is at his most appealing. He had spent much of his life working in chromolithography before selling the family business in 1903 and, already in his mid-forties, devoting himself more fully to painting. By the time he visited Donzenac three years later, he was not a young artist anxiously searching for a style. He knew what interested him and finally possessed the freedom to go looking for it.

The result is wonderfully relaxed. There is no grand narrative, and Gué makes no attempt to turn provincial France into a sentimental idyll. Instead, he gives us a particular place on a particular summer's day: its old roofs, shop signs, local people, vegetables, shadows and sunshine.

One can imagine him eventually packing away his paints, perhaps finding somewhere nearby for lunch, and continuing his wander through the town. He could not have known that more than a century later someone would still be looking closely at the square he had chosen that morning.

Signed in the lower right and dated June 1906 on the stretcher. Held in a simple white frame.