Recovery and Photography

Tags

art, C.N., contemporary art, contemporary photography, Erwin Olaf, Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson, Galerie Rabouan Moussion, Guy Tillim, Marais, photography, Sherard, walking

On Wednesday, after walking 77 miles over the previous week, I was tired! I wrote a few blog posts, did some reading, and basically just put my feet up! I love walking, and it’s one of my favorite things to do in Paris. Over the decade I’ve been coming here I’ve consistently averaged about 7 miles a day (though only 6 in 2018). I knew from last year that I would be below average during my stay in the 15ème with my cousins, but I counted on Sherard’s insatiable appetite for walking to compensate. What I didn’t count on was that I would be walking almost as much with C.N. on the four days before Sherard arrived. So it turned out to be eleven solid days of intensive walking (including a 15-mile half-marathon day).

On Thursday, after more rest, I ventured out to the Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson in the 3ème. There were some charming photos by Cartier-Bresson himself but the main event was a small exhibition of enormously enlarged street photos of African cities by a South African photographer, Guy Tillim. I was impressed, but by and large was happier perusing the images in a Paris gallery rather than actually being in one of those cities.

Guy Tillim, Museum of the Revolution exhibition at La Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson

On my way home a gallery I hadn’t visited before this year — Galerie Rabouan Moussion — caught my eye. When I went in I was basically blown away by an exhibition of large-format photographs by Erwin Olaf that combined sumptuous surface beauty with witty, barbed and/or affecting points. Here are shots of a few that I particularly liked.

These two images, hung at very different levels, are related…

In the first, a mature black man sits at a (modest) power desk while a white boy waits in a row of chairs.

In the second image the white boy, somehow, is sitting in the power chair and the black man is nowhere to be seen.

The next two images suggest relationships between two women.

A mother and child? Maybe not, since the book open on the table is Lolita!

Another mother and child? Perhaps the child has done something wrong? But in the context of the previous photograph other interpretations also suggest themselves.

This photograph was my favorite, because of the moving affection it shows as well as the scantily-clad model.

The Farewell, 2018, Erwin Olaf at Galerie Rabouan Moussion, Paris

The Farewell, 2018 (detail), Erwin Olaf at Galerie Rabouan Moussion, Paris

The Farewell, 2018 (detail), Erwin Olaf at Galerie Rabouan Moussion, Paris

I naturally interpret this as a farewell between gay lovers who are about to be separated by the military service of one of them. But actually they could just be good friends, or even adopted brothers. Perhaps the ambiguity of the photograph makes the point that their powerful and obvious affection is the real and important thing. The exact nature of their relationship is relatively unimportant.

Sherard’s First Days

Tags

Antoine, Batignolles, Bouillon Chartier, Comptoir General, Experimental Cocktail Club, flâneur, Fushigi!, Hoppy, Il Tre, Le Refuge, Le Tout Petit, Les Ambassades, Marais, meals, Metro, Montmartre, Montorgueil, Musee d'Orsay, Palais Royal, Parc Monceau, Rodin Museum, rue Montorgueil, Sacre Coeur, Sherard, Théâtre de Nesle

My friend and book club colleague Sherard arrived on Tuesday, May 21, for his second visit to Paris. We had had a lovely time here three years ago, in 2016, so I was delighted when he accepted my invitation to visit again.

Sherard on rue Montorgueil

He arrived in the morning so our strategy was to keep him up and about until at least 8 pm to help with jet lag. We headed up to Montmartre, starting with Sacré Coeur, which we had also visited during his previous stay.

Sherard with Sacré Coeur

We were both bemused by the crush of tourists at the top, and impressed with how much quieter it was off the tourist track on the back of the hill. We sat for half an hour at Le Refuge, which Antoine had introduced me to in 2010, watching local people (with nary a tourist in sight) come and go at the métro station Lamarck—Caulaincourt. On our way home I proposed dinner at one of my favorite places, Bouillon Chartier. There I made the first of several mistakes, by failing to warn Sherard that the bar entier would be a whole fish, head, skin, fins and all. He bravely tackled it and I think mostly enjoyed it.

Bob and Sherard at Bouillon Chartier

We finished the evening with a couple rounds of cocktails at Experimental Cocktail Club, which is exactly the same as we remembered it from 2016.

The following day we got a joint ticket for the Musée d’Orsay and the Rodin Museum, and headed off to the Orsay. I discussed our experiences at the Orsay in the previous post, but this pic of Sherard from a hallway in the Orsay is worth adding:

Sherard getting his model mojo on

When we first arrived at the Seine Sherard remarked on the wide walkways on each side of the river (berges). At first I was puzzled, but then I realized that he hadn’t seen them during his previous stay since they were submerged by the Great Flood of 2016.

After the Orsay we were hungry, and wandered back into the 7ème, which I don’t know well, to forage. We finally came across a friendly place called Les Ambassades whose 19 euro menu included appetizer, main, dessert and beverage, so we were well fed. After lunch I realized that we were just a block or two from the Rodin Museum. Our ticket allowed us to visit the two museums on different days (with a three month period, actually) but since we were already there I suggested that we make it a two-museum day. The indoor museum doesn’t thrill me, but we both quite liked the sculpture garden.

The garden of the Monet Museum, with The Thinker and even Balzac peeping through the vegetation

Balzac by Rodin

The garden of the Rodin Museum

We just had time to regroup at home before heading across the river again to see an interesting production called Fushigi! at the Théâtre de Nesle, an improvisational piece based on the films of Miyazaki. I had imagined colorful costumes but I couldn’t have been more wrong. A young girl embarked on a mission to restore a precious plant to its environment. She and her mother used (very) friendly monkeys to carry messages between them. A wicked witch turned the girl into a vulture, but fortunately her identity was restored and they all lived happily ever after. I don’t have to give you a spoiler alert because the show is different every performance; all this was improvised by four actors clad in white using mime, plus occasional spoken words, to tell a vivid and affecting story. It was also perfect for us, since rapid fire, subtle French is challenging to follow.

After the show we had a a simple but delicious Italian meal at Il Tre, on rue Montorgueil.

Bob with Sherard at Il Tre on rue Montorgueil

We went out later to explore the gay scene in the Marais, but everything was pretty dead so we ended up with a tasty beer at Hoppy, one of our favorite bars from 2016, that fortunately is still thriving.

Sherard at Hoppy, after a long day

The next day Sherard asked me to look over a map of Paris and point out the areas with which I was least familiar. This was an approach that worked well during his last visit, ending up with a charming dinner in the faraway 14ème. This year one of the less familiar arrondissements I mentioned was the 17ème. I had visited a few times but never fully explored. We set out on foot, as is our wont, which took us through the Palais Royal.

Statue at the Palais Royal (with modesty preserved by a strategic bud)

Bob ‘s hat head at the Palais Royal

When we encountered the Galeries Lafayette I suggested we take a look, as a contrast with the more popular 17ème. It’s beautiful and impressive, but I find the rank commercialism rather distasteful.

Dome of Galeries Lafayette

Our first stop in the 17ème was the charming Square des Batignolles, a jardin à l’anglaise, i.e. mimicking nature rather than geometry. A striking contrast to Galeries Lafayette!

Square des Batignolles with Sherard

Square des Batignolles

We had lunch in a cute little place next to the park.

Bob at “Le Tout Petit,” Batignolles, 17ème

Sherard at “Le Tout Petit,” Batignolles

Then we plunged into terra incognita (to me). I was surprised to find dozens of big, brand new buildings clustered around a planned station of the fast, fully automated métro line 14. Unfortunately the buildings are finished and occupied but the station has been delayed, so the overcrowded line 13 is a nightmare for the time being.

Just a few of many new buildings in the 17ème

Sherard had noticed a green strip called the Cité des Fleurs on the map and suggested that we check it out. What proper flâneur could say no? I wasn’t sure that it would be open to the public, but in fact it’s open from 7 am to 7 pm, so we enjoyed a stroll. The older buildings on each side couldn’t be more different from the high rises just a few blocks away.

Lovely houses in the Cité des Fleurs, 17ème

It was only as we were about to exit that I remembered my friend Antoine having mentioned that he had moved from St. Germain des Prés to this very Cité des Fleurs! I texted him on the off chance that he might be at home, taking care of his newborn daughter; he was, and he invited us up for coffee!

Antoine with his two-month old daughter

Bob, Antoine with his daughter, and Sherard

It was great to catch up with Antoine and to see what a family man he has become. We walked home via the beautiful Parc Monceau.

Sherard and I we’re both a bit tired after our long day, and my memory of dinner is hazy, but I’m pretty sure that we capped the evening with cocktails at Experimental Cocktail Club.

A few days later, on Friday afternoon, I made a remarkable mistake that needs to be recounted. I took Sherard for a drink at Le Comptoir Général, an African-themed bar along the Canal Saint-Martin that Alexis had introduced me to in 2013, when it was known as the Ghetto Museum.  I had been blown away on that first visit by extensive conceptual art installations, as well as by their powerful signature cocktail, the Secousse (Earthquake).

A glimpse of the Ghetto Museum from 2013, but the art is almost all gone now.

I also had a dim memory that over the years it had become less African art museum and more pretentious yuppie bar, but it was still on my mental list of places to show visitors. What I definitely did not recall was that I had taken Sherard there on his first visit, in 2016, and we had been distinctly underwhelmed:

I showed Sherard Comptoir Général but realized, seeing it through his eyes, that it was no longer the astonishing art-intensive Ghetto Museum that Alexis had introduced me to several years back, but had become just a big hipster bar with a few bits of African decor.

The current Comptoir Général isn’t a terrible place. We had a moderately pleasant time sipping our drinks and watching the hipsters. The terrible thing is that I had forgotten that we had done the same thing three years earlier. Memory becomes an issue as one gets older. For someone who is “pushing 70” I think I do pretty well, but I have to admit that this oversight gives me pause. It would be an “expected surprise” to sink into outright dementia in the last years of my life, but I’m hoping to stave this off as long as possible!

Near the end of the week Sherard revealed that he had had a slight ulterior motive all along: To keep me so happily busy that I wouldn’t have time to blog. In this he succeeded magnificently! I’m writing a full week later, just after he headed back to Boston.

Art in Paris: Hassan Musa

Tags

Adnan Kashoggi, art, contemporary art, Galerie Maïa Muller, Hassan Musa, Marais, Odalisque, Steal Lifes, The Snake Charmer

Hassan Musa, a Sudanese native who lives and works in France, uses a mix of paint and fabric to make trenchant social and political points. These are a few pieces from a small personal exhibition, “Steal Lifes,” at the tiny but lively Galerie Maïa Muller in the Marais.

Self portrait, “Steal Lifes”

This enormous tapestry, “The Snake Charmer,” filled most of a wall

Detail of “The Snake Charmer”

Close detail of “The Snake Charmer”

This breathtaking piece called “The Fiancées of Istanbul” shows the late Adnan Khashoggi with the Odalisque of Ingres. (He entered the Saudi consulate, where he was brutally assassinated, seeking paperwork to allow him to marry.)

The Odalisque makes another appearance with elements of the contemporary Food Pyramid

I really like the combination of arrestingly beautiful objects with trenchant and chilling points. I usually subscribe to the Sam Goldwyn aphorism, “if you have a message, call Western Union,” but in this case I was disarmed by the passion of the message and the exotic charm of the medium.

Note to younger readers: Sam Goldwyn was the head for decades of a big movie studio, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM). Western Union was the company that delivered “telegrams,” which were paper versions of email messages, back in the dark ages before the Internet. He’s saying that he makes movies to entertain, not to send messages.

Art in Paris: Japonisme(s)

Tags

art, Galerie Pierre-Alain Challier, Marais

The most impressive multi-artist show I encountered was Japonisme(s) at Galerie Pierre-Alain Challier in the Marais, which has been extended through June, 2019. I liked nearly all of the many pieces — which almost never happens with me! — as well as the calm and contemplative atmosphere of the gallery. I’m posting just a handful of shots, but I really recommend a visit if you will have the chance.

By Jean-Loup Champion

By Kimiko Yoshida

Bowl by Claire de Lavallée, Painting by Marie Hugo

By Sophie de Laporte

At first glance this last piece looks like rather good modern art…

By Patrick Hourcade

When you look closer, however, you see that it’s conceptual:

By Patrick Hourcade (detail)

More Paris Art

Tags

Afro, Afro Libio Basaldella, art, Canal d’Ourcq, Concert for a Fly, contemporary art, David Hockney, Ecoute, Galerie Béatrice Soulié, Galerie Lelong & Co., Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac, Gérard Cambon, Henry de Miller, Ilya and Emilia Kabakov, L'Opéra, L'Opéra Garnier, Marais, Nambia, parc de la Villette, Parc Monceau, Paris, Saint Eustache, street art, Tornabuoni

This statue, in front of Saint-Eustache, survived the five-year redevelopment of Les Halles. Click here for a pic of the work site from 2012 showing the head tenuously protected by barriers.

“Ecoute,” 1986, by Henry de Miller (1953-99), visible again in 2018

The gallery show that most strongly impressed me this year was of Afro Libio Basaldella (1912-1976), better known as “Afro,” at the Tornabuoni Art gallery in the Marais. The artist — who I hadn’t heard of — was born in Italy and worked there and in the U.S. One example is below, but if you like it please look at: [“Afro” Photo Set]

One of many excellent paintings by “Afro” at Tornabuoni Art Paris

Naturally I was interested in owning one of these excellent paintings! The price list was held behind the counter, but a gallerist offered to tell me the price of any specific work I was interested in. This one, for example, was priced at 4,900,000 euros. Negotiable, I’m sure, but still a bit rich for my blood.

These odd sculptures are from the imaginary country of “Nambia,” inspired by a bourde of Donald Trump.

« Nambias » by Gérard Cambon at Galerie Béatrice Soulié in the Latin Quarter

I was quite impressed by Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac in the Marais– not the art, which I didn’t find memorable until the top floor — but the gallery itself, which is a large and beautiful space.

Stunning circular stairway at Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac

I did respect, on the top floor, the reprise of a Palais de Tokyo show by Patrick Neu I had liked in 2015, and enjoyed a quirky little installation, which you’ll have to enlarge to fully appreciate:

Concert for a Fly, by Ilya and Emilia Kabakov, at Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac

A few weeks back I stumbled on the vernissage (opening party) for a David Hockney show at a newly opened branch of Galerie Lelong & Co. Some functionary tried to shoo me away because it hadn’t officially started but the gallery owner waved me in. #seniorprivilege

New branch of Galerie Lelong & Co. at 38 avenue Matignon

David Hockney show at Galerie Lelong & Co. with vernissage snacks. These are numbered reproductions of digital images Hockney creates on an iPad

I’ve many times appreciated the mostly-buried bicycle wheel at the back of this photo as I’ve strolled through the Parc de la Villette but this year is the first time I noticed the rest of the bicycle!

Buried bicycle parts in the Parc de la Villette

Street art in Batignolles

Apollo atop L’Opéra Garnier

19th Century Street Art in the Marais

21st Century Street Art along the Canal d’Ourcq

An artist and his model in Parc Monceau.

Mot du Jour: bourde. Blunder, boner, mishap.

A Day Trip to Amiens

Tags

Amiens, Amiens Cathedral, canals, Cathedral, half-timbered, Judgment Day, Marais, Metro, Paris, rose garden, Saint Sebastian, secret garden, tympanum, Zhizhong

On Sunday Zhizhong and I met up at Gare du Nord for a day trip to Amiens. I was almost late because the line 4 platform was closed for repairs, but the efficient Parisian métro system nevertheless got me to the station with time to spare.

The signature attraction of Amiens is the cathedral, which is quite impressive; here are a few pics.

Zhizhong was surprised when I explained that the tympanum showed Judgment Day, when the blessed are led off by angels to heaven while the damned are led by devils to hell through the mouth of a monster.

The highest interior space of any cathedral in France. Meant to impress!

The ornate interior seems to have been recently re-gilded.

Zhizhong wondered aloud why Saint Sebastian has become something of a gay icon. I have no idea…

The stained glass is colorful but modern since the medieval windows were destroyed in the Revolution. Chartres is one of the few cathedrals in France with mostly intact windows.

There are many other heritage buildings in Amiens, but the regional museum was closed and the rest of the town seemed a bit depressed.

An attractive half-timbered building opposite the Amiens cathedral

One notable feature is that the city is built around many canals.

Ironically, one of the biggest thrills of the day for me occurred after we got back to Paris. Zhizhong mentioned that we were near a hidden garden at the Eastern edge of the Marais. I was skeptical that there could be anything interesting in the area that I didn’t already know about, but I followed his lead.

The entrance from the Marais is down this alley…

… then through this literally forbidding barred gate.

But inside was a gorgeous rose garden, in full bloom!

It’s a public park, sitting in a courtyard of posh private residences.

Many thanks to Zhizhong for his company on the trip, and especially for unveiling yet another Parisian secret.

Update: Here’s a Google photo set with full-sized versions of all my photos from our Amiens day trip: Amiens Day Trip

Family and Friends

Tags

Aya, Bains-Douches, Jackie, l'Oasis d'Aboukir, Lisa, Marais, meals, Oasis d'Aboukir, Paris, rue Montorgueil, weather

The weather has been sunny and less chilly these past few days. We’ve taken lovely walks, enjoyed the nearby park, and eaten most of our restaurant meals a la terrasse.

Lisa and me enjoying an afternoon glass of rosé on our way to the nearest shopping mall.

We had chosen a perfectly random café — L’Argument — but it proved to be quite satisfactory.

Poké salad at L’Argument

Where, you ask, is my Jungle Jim sun hat? Someone else tried it on for size…

Aya trying out Uncle Bob’s silly hat

Our big adventure the day before had been the local park, which was jammed with kids since it was their school holiday. A highlight for Aya was scaling this really challenging climbing rock. At four years old I was nowhere near as brave!

Aya atop an impressive climbing rock

Friday afternoon Lisa and Aya visited friends so I had lunch with my Harvard friend Elliot, at his neighborhood Moroccan restaurant Le Berbere.

Lunch with Elliot Marks at Le Berbere.

He’ll be in the U.S. for most of my stay — part of the time in Boston — but we plan to catch up once again just before I leave Paris. Unfortunately, I’ll miss the Harvard LGBT alumni event by just a few days, along with many other events in the latter part of June. I looked into extending my stay but at this point changing my flights would be punishingly expensive. And yes, Boston isn’t a bad place to be either in the summertime.

After lunch I strolled over to the Marais with Elliot, then wandered up to my favorite quarter, rue Montorgueil, where I will be living for most of this year’s stay. The impressive vegetative wall that I have watched grow year by year — L’Oasis d’Aboukir — was getting a trim.

L’Oasis d’Aboukir getting a trim.

I met up with Jackie for dinner at a Lebanese place about a kilometer from our apartment, and noticed this historic building on our walk back home.

Public bath house, for people of an earlier era without bathing facilities at home. Now fortunately an anachronism.

I’ve been walking about five miles a day so far this trip, but on Friday I broke ten miles so hopefully I’ll end up with my usual Paris average of about seven miles a day.

Last Weekend

Tags

16mm, 2015 by Nicholas Delprat, 2016 by Béranger Laymond, Ali, Anti-terrorism teams, Army teams, art, banlieue, Béranger Laymond, bidonville, bouche à oreille, bouchon d'oreille, Canal Saint-Denis, Censier–Daubenton, contemporary art, Foodi, Foyer Vietnam, France, Galerie les Yeux Fertiles, Grand Train, Guillaume, Jacques Carelman, Jacques Prévert, language, Le Grand Train, Lemon, Lina's, Lisa, Louvre, Marais, meals, Montorgueil, neighborhoods, Nicholas Delprat, Palais Royal, Paris, racism, raton, raton-laveur, Reliefs, RER Control, Roma, rue Montorgueil, Rue Mouffetard, Saint-Denis, shantytown, soldiers, Submachine guns, We Can Control Space, Zhizhong, Zongzi

These past two years my cousin Lisa — so big a part of my Paris experience in earlier years! — has been in Uganda working on her Ph.D. She’s still looking after me, however, and she suggested a dinner with our mutual friends Ali and Zhizhong. We met at my place on Friday evening for an apéro, then ate at nearby Foodi, where I had dined my first night in Paris this year.

Ali, Zhizhong and me on our way to dinner.

There was a snafu about our reservation — I’ve found that smaller restaurants often don’t notice last-minute reservations made through the Fork — but we just had to kill half an hour at Hoppy, and then could be seated.

Zhizhong and me at Foodi (photo credit, Ali)

Ali and I had bento boxes, but Zhizhong was thrilled to get a traditional Chinese dish, Zongzi. In a beloved legend packets of rice were thrown into a river to distract fish from eating the body of a hero.

Zhizhong’s Zongzi Traditionnelle at Foodi

Ali headed home after dinner but Zhizhong and I got into a deep conversation, mostly about the opportunities, challenges and temptations of his new job. He’s working like crazy, but also coming into contact with upper levels of French business and society that raise all sorts of interesting questions. We used to have conversations like this back in Cambridge while he was working on his Ph.D., but this is the first really long talk we’ve had in the 3-1/2 years he’s been living in Paris. It was after 3 am by the time he headed home, and I staggered into bed!

I understandably got a late start on Saturday, then strolled over to the Palais Royal to do some reading.

Reading at the Palais Royal

I grabbed a quick and cheap lunch at Lina’s on Etienne Marcel, then strolled over to the left bank via the Louvre. You see teams of four heavily-armed soldiers all over Paris. Usually I’m reluctant to take their picture but I did take this shot to give you the idea. From one perspective they make me feel safer and from another perspective they make me uneasy.

Well-protected Eiffel tower seller at the Louvre

My destination was the little district of art galleries in the 6ème arrondissement near the École des beaux-arts. I had slighted this area despite my interest in art because I had the impression that these would be schlock galleries catering to tourists. There were a few of those towards the Latin Quarter but overall I was quite impressed with the quality of the galleries in this area.

Snow bicycle by Jacques Carelman at the Galerie les Yeux Fertiles

After the galleries started closing I strolled across the Latin Quarter to rue Monge, and headed up to a student-run restaurant I had read about, the Foyer Vietnam, in the 5ème. Mysterious from the outside because its windows are frosted, inside it’s a simple and welcoming Vietnamese restaurant. The food was tasty and inexpensive, and I sat at a long table with other diners. Very much the kind of experience I was looking for that evening.

Both before and after dinner I strolled around the area. I had previously noted the neighborhood around métro Censier–Daubenton as one where I could envisage staying one year. The only real drawback I saw was the fact that it’s a bit of a hike to the Marais, which is these days more of an issue for my guests than it is for me. Nearby rue Mouffetard, which had charmed me on earlier trips to Paris, now seems trampled to death by the tourist hoards. Rue Montorgueil itself — while still attracting a lot of French visitors — seems to be going in the same direction. Where can I go to escape from … people like me?

On Sunday morning I blogged and got a quick lunch at Lemon. Then Guillaume picked me up and we traveled together to the banlieue of Saint-Denis to see a contemporary art show. Guillaume had worked in Saint-Denis on an assignment and his employer, a city planning arm of the Paris region, plans to move its main office there. I had previously been to see the basilica (which is most impressive) but hadn’t dared to venture deeper into the city. It was reassuring to have an experienced guide.

In prior years I’ve usually purchased a monthly Navigo pass, which extends on weekends, etc. to the entire Île de France region, including Saint-Denis. This year, however, I’m just using métro tickets, which only cover the inner zones of Paris. When Guillaume pointed this out at Gare du Nord we joked about the idea of my taking my chances on being “controlled” and required to pay a substantial fine, but decided to buy the correct tickets. Our virtue was rewarded, since there was a massive control operation at Saint-Denis! Dozens of police were writing up fines for people who didn’t have the right credentials, and catching people who were trying to escape the control.

The art show was supposed to be in an apartment building in a lovely location, right between the Seine and the Canal Saint-Denis. At first we went to the wrong floor and had a disorienting experience since nobody at all was there.

Selfie of me and Guillaume in sketchy banlieue elevator

But once we found the show it was normal and the organizers were friendly and informative.

Reliefs, 2016 by Béranger Laymond at We Can Control Space show

Bob and Guillaume contemplating 16mm, 2015 by Nicholas Delprat

The show organizers had said that there were also some exterior artworks, so after leaving the gallery we went around back. It turned out to be a sandy beach on the banks of the canal, where a cheerful young crowd was watching France beat Ireland in the round of 16 of the European soccer cup!

Afternoon on the beach … of the Canal Saint-Denis

This being France of course there was a bar, and of course we each had a couple of beers… After the match we got into conversation with neighbors at our picnic table and learned a lot about the building. The residents are mostly artists and other creative types (also, contrary to the prevailing demographic of Saint-Denis, mostly white), and they are fighting to keep control of the building. It’s really a gorgeous spot; the only little issue I noticed was the Roma (gypsy) shantytown across the canal.

Roma shantytown across the canal

Guillaume explained that French racism against the Roma is even more intense than that against North Africans. There’s no immediate prospect of a Frexit, but the far right would love to use fear and hatred of immigrants to lever France out of the E.U. as well. Our conversation was in French, as at the dinner party in May. I had to ask him to repeat or explain a few times but on the whole I was able to keep up pretty well.

We said farewell at Gare du Nord, so I strolled over to the Grand Train, which I has first visited with Kristoffer the previous week, to see what it was like in nicer weather. It was a lot busier than last time, but all I had energy for was drinking a small beer and heading home for dinner and sleep.

“Time misleads us. Time hugs us. Time is our station. Time is our train.” –Jacques Prévert at Le Grand Train

Pizza restaurant at Le Grand Train. One of a dozen bars and restaurants.

Mot du jour: « bouche à oreille », “word of mouth”, but literally, “mouth to ear”, which I think is more evocative than our idiom. Not to be confused with « bouchon d’oreille », “earplug”.

Bonus Mot du jour: « bidonville », “shantytown”.

Second Bonus Mot du jour: « raton-laveur », “raccoon”, but literally, “little rat washer”. Beware the word « raton », however, since it’s also a racist slur for North Africans.

Machine à raton-laveur by Jacques Carelman at Galerie les Yeux Fertiles

Fête, Parks and Art

Tags

10ème arrondissement, art, Ayoung Kim, Bart van der Leck, Caminito, Canal Saint-Martin, Délices de la Lune, Doanier Rousseau, Fashion Week, Fashion week models, Fête de la musique, France, Henri Rousseau, In This Vessel We Shall be Kept, Jacques Grinberg, Jane Café, La Baraque A, Le Petit paysan en bleu, Les Nymphéas, Marais, meals, Men's Fashion Week, models, Monet's Water Lillies, Musée d'Art moderne de la Ville de Paris, Musee d'Orsay, Palais de Tokyo, Parc Montsouris, Parc Sainte-Périne, Paris, Paris Fashion Week, Paula Modersohn-Becker, Seurat, water lillies, weather

Tuesday was June 21, the Fête de la musique, a summer solstice street festival that’s a big deal in Paris and some other francophone countries. I have had a good time at the festival since I first stumbled on it in 2011, including barhopping with Jared W, Geoff and Hugues in 2013 and doing it on my own in 2014, with the most amazing time being last year (2015) when I enjoyed it with Sawyer and Seth.

This year I was on my own again. Instead of focusing on the Marais, as in prior years, I decided to stroll over to the 10ème arrondissement, around the Canal Saint-Martin, to see what the festival was like over there. La Baraque A is a mild-mannered coffee shop the rest of the year, but it hosts an electronic dance party for the Fête. The music was just starting up when I arrived so I had a beer on the terrace of a café, then strolled further on.

La Baraque A hosts a dance party at la Fête de la Musique

When I looped back later it had become quite a scene: La Baraque A Dance Party in Full Swing.

There were similar crowds outside restaurants and bars all around the quarter, in each case racially mixed, often multi-age, but with a consistently lefty/hip/hippie vibe. I didn’t notice much of a Muslim presence, and I suspect that this is the Achilles heel in the “melting pot” character of the neighborhood.

Blues at Jane Café in the 10ème on la Fête de la musique

I found the 10ème quite sympa, and I would consider staying there another year. But after a couple of hours on my own I headed home and got a good night’s sleep instead of partying until dawn.

When I got to Paris this year I noticed a new restaurant on rue des Petits Carreaux, Caminito, an Argentine bistro. I passed it by initially since South American cuisine is largely red meat, which I try to avoid.

Caminito on rue des Petits Carreaux in the Village Montorgueil

But on Wednesday I noticed that the plat du jour was fish so I had lunch there, which I quite enjoyed.

Pollock lunch at Caminito

That afternoon I headed out to find a park to do some reading in. I first went to a completely new area, Parc Sainte-Périne in the 16ème, but it just seemed like an enormous playground. Great for bourgeois kids but not inviting to an adult reader. Disappointed in my exploration I hopped the tram over to tried-and-true Parc Montsouris in the 14ème. I had brought an umbrella just in case and found that I needed it at times even though there were also welcome intervals of sunshine. This year’s summer started out looking a lot like its spring!

Rainy moment at Parc Montsouris

Raindrops on a rose at Parc Montsouris

The temperature had gotten up to 80 on Wednesday and on Thursday it was actually hot for the first time this year — high 80’s! Instead of sunbathing my thoughts turned to air-conditioning, so I decided to check some museums off my list. I had expected to visit the Musée d’Orsay a few weeks earlier with Sherard, but the Great Flood of 2016 put paid to that idea. Consequently, I headed over to see the Doanier Rousseau exhibition, and revisit the permanent collection. The title refers to the fact that Henri Rousseau started painting as a weekend hobby while working as a customs agent. I was mostly familiar with a few of his weird jungle scenes, and an iconic image of a family in a carriage.

I hadn’t realized, however, that he was self-taught, and was (initially at least) more of a folk painter than a professional artist. His portraits have that weird quality of looking straight out at you that you see in the works of American folk artists. He did have a good eye for color and could put paint on the canvas, but those skills alone wouldn’t have gotten him anywhere. What made his reputation was the weird and wonderful imagination that populated his jungle pictures. He never left Paris but had a rich vision of a fecund and brutal imaginary world.

The permanent collection of the Musée d’Orsay is always a delight, especially the impressionists on the 5th floor. I always notice something I hadn’t appreciated before, in this case a blurry little portrait by Seurat:

Georges Seurat, Le Petit paysan en bleu, dit aussi Le Jockey, around 1882 at Musée d’Orsay

I was also reminded of the fact that real people can be at least as fabulous as those depicted in the artworks.

Real person at the Musée d’Orsay

The Orsay admission also includes the Orangerie museum in the Tuileries, so I walked over there and revisited Monet’s two immersive waterlily rooms, as well as the impressive impressionist and post-impressionist collection on the lower level.

Monet, Les Nymphéas (water lillies) at l’Orangerie museum

Monet, Les Nymphéas (water lillies) at l’Orangerie museum

One observation I’ve often made about the finest impressionist art is that you can appreciate most any small section of brushwork as an abstraction as well as enjoying the entire work from a distance. I finally got around to posting a photo set putting forward this idea: Impressionism Far and Near

Thursday evening I had a Breton meal at an old favorite, Délices de la Lune on rue Poissonnière. (I was surprised to see that the Fork offers a 40% discount for advance bookings. This seems like gilding the lily since their prices are so modest anyway!)

On Friday I decided to check out the new shows at the edgy contemporary art museum, Palais de Tokyo, which I have sometimes loved and sometimes loathed. Although I liked several of the shows I saw there in mid-May the current crop left me stone cold, except for a few individual pieces and a wonderful sonic work by Ayoung Kim called “In This Vessel We Shall be Kept”. The concept of the work is crazy but remarkable: We are asked to take refuge in an ark against another great flood, but the ark in question is the Palais Garnier!

Ayoung Kim, “In This Vessel We Shall be Kept” (detail)

There are some graphics explaining this conceit and giving the text of an immersive choral performance, which is the heart of the work. These texts are from various sources, including the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Bible and the Koran, which all exhort a chosen few to build an ark to survive a flood. You experience the choral work in a comfortable seat in a dark room, surrounded by eight speakers. I posted a clip to give you a taste, but you need to hear it for yourself!

As in prior years, I stumbled on some Fashion Week models at Palais de Tokyo; cute and emaciated as always, but this year with strikingly kookie hairdos.

Models at Palais de Tokyo

Model at Palais de Tokyo

Since it’s right there and free (except for the temporary shows) I also stopped in to the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris. I ended up paying for two of the shows, which were both pretty good: Paula Modersohn-Becker and Albert Marquet. Modersohn-Becker’s early portraits had a naive aspect reminiscent of Henri Rousseau, but her skills advanced rapidly, until her untimely death. Photos aren’t permitted in the shows, but I noticed this grisly little picture in the permanent collection, which is quite good even though overshadowed by the Pompidou.

Jacques Grinberg, l’Enfant (the child), around 1963, at the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris

And this eerie group scene:

Bart van der Leck, Au Marché, 1913, at the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris

Antoine and Pigalle

Tags

Antoine, barbe à papa, Haussmann, Haussmann buildings, Le Barbe à Papa, Marais, Montmartre, Pigalle, Place Saint George, Place St George, rue Condorcet, sex clubs, SoPi, straight sex clubs

Wednesday, after Omar left, I had lunch on my own at one of my favorite neighborhood places. Then I did grocery shopping and a stint at the laundromat (for sheets and towels), and finished with a quiet dinner at home.

Lunch at Pur

On Thursday I had a cozy lunch with my French friend Antoine, who is working at an art conservation organization south of Pigalle (which he tells me is now going by the moniker SoPi). He has recently moved to a larger place in the 17ème, near Batignolles. Métro line 13 is sub-optimal but he loves his immediate neighborhood, which is a gated courtyard.

Antoine and me at lunch near Pigalle

At first look “South Pigalle” and “SoPi” sound fine. Until you realize that “South” is English — it should be « Sud Pigalle » and « SuPi », but I guess they just don’t have the same cachet.

I’ve mostly avoided the Pigalle area in prior years because it’s tacky and has a sketchy reputation after dark.

Former beautiful woman on formerly beautiful building, rue Pigalle

Honestly, though, most of the straight sex clubs here are no worse than the gay clubs that one frequents in the Marais.

Sex club near Pigalle

Pigalle is just below the tourist mecca of Montmartre, so parts of it are trampled by that tourist horde.

Tourist street below Montmartre

Clever underground bottle disposal system either full or being ignored, near Pigalle

I did run across a cool bunch of decorated posts in the heart of Pigalle. I posted a video clip on Instagram.

The farther south you go from Pigalle the nicer things get, however.

Panorama, Place St Georges

These Haussmann buildings on or near rue Condorcet are downright gorgeous.

Lovely Haussmann building near rue Condorcet

Le Barbe à Papa is a subtle play on words, since the French for cotton candy is the same, except feminine. On rue Condorcet

Sherard at one point tasked me with a dislike of Haussmann areas. After thinking it over I admitted a taste for twisty little medieval streets, but I claimed that I also have no problem with wide, straight avenues or boulevards, or with Haussmann-style buildings, so long as they offer restaurants and shops on the ground level and aren’t trampled to death by tourists.