The Art Post (day 3)

I awoke to Taïs and her mother running around, packing her suitcase at the last minute. Though quite late, she made her train to London and I began my day by walking to the Louvre.

Because of the White Night, everything was free on Sunday. The line to the Louvre was four hours and it was another three hour wait for Monet. I resolved to come early the next morning before my flight. I really wanted to go to both, and thought it'd be worth it to stand in line for that at this point. However, I had nothing to read! What a pity.

Can you find the golden arches in the shopping mall beneath the Louvre? (What is the world coming to?)

Frustrated, I moved on to the Centre Pompidou. There was absolutely no line. I really think the building itself is cool and the idea supporting its constructed implemented effectively throughout. The parameters of the original architectural competition "had to meet the criteria of interdisciplinarity, freedom of movement and flow, and an open approach to exhibition areas" (find the link here). 

Indeed, the building connects with the city in a way I have not seen before. Before the entrance is a very large courtyard of sorts, at a semi-steep incline so one can lay down and watch what is going on inside through the glass facade. This courtyard is a popular meeting and chilling place. There is a fountain on the other side of the building. An exhibition of Gabriel Orozco was in that room.

"La DS", Orozco 1993

According to the literature I picked up on Orozco outside the exhibit, he is "an artist in constant movement, with no fixed studio space [who] draws his inspiration from the sites he passes through and rejects the idea of national or regional identity [...] Incidents from daily life are central to his work which plays upon a poetry of chance and paradox. Boundaries between the art object and the everyday world are deliberately blurred, art is mingled with reality[...] For this exhibition, the artist has chosen to leave the Galerie Sud open without walls. [...] The artist makes a connection between the gallery and its urban surroundings, in a dialogue with the adjacent street, the restaurant tables and passers-by, recalling the importance of public spaces in his art. [...] the artist and the Centre Pompidou also present a performance conceived specifically for the exhibition involving actors playing the role of Mexican police guards 'imported' to take care of the works." Unfortunately I was not allowed to take photos in the gallery, but I've scrounged up some of my favorite of his photos on the internet...


This was a little more loosely laid out than the exhibit at the Pompidou, but it conveys the same sense of freedom and space.

Orozco exhibition at MOCA in 2000 (photo by Brian Forrest)

"Atomist: Making Strides" Orozco 1996

"Breath on Piano" Orozco 1993

"From Roof to Roof" Orozco 1993

"Island Within an Island" Orozco 1993

I also looked at this guy Saâdane Afif's exhibit, but was not a fan.


The Permanent Collection, however, was what I enjoyed most. 


Especially poignant was the feminist exhibit (called elles@centrepompidou), which explored parts of that movement in the visual arts. It was introduced by the "Guerrilla Girls"' manifesto:

 I really enjoyed the almost-entire room dedicated to Louise Bourgeois, who made the sculpture "hands":

It seems that all the pieces were part of one large work, credited as "My scalp / forehead / ears / the base of the skull / back of the neck / the back between the shoulder blades / the base of the ribs / Solar Plexus / the stomach / the esophogus / the throat / the intestines / the rectum / the legs / thighs / ankles / toes / the pelvis bones / the joints / the arms / forearms / hands / fingers / the pains and cramps / the breathing / the palpitations / the hot flushes / the perspiration / extreme extreme tension / the smell of the hunted animal."


I think she's really cool.


My other favorites from elles@centrepompidou:

"Chambre 202, Hôtel du Pavot" Dorothea Tanning 2009

A room of one's own?

"Bild" Miwa Ogasawara 2007

Much of the art in this particular exhibit struck me as rudimentary in some way (along the same lines as Bourgeois' piece). Perhaps this reflects the general feeling of being at the beginning of something, as the Guerrilla Girls suggest. Art made by women has never been paid much attention to, and now that it is (although it is in its own category, still defined by a difference) the artists are given the task of creating a new space for themselves in museums and galleries. I think that their art can be said to reflect that spirit of an early age, litearlly and figuratively. On the other hand, the sometimes un-pretty pieces are perhaps a rejection of expectations of art made by women and the implications of femininity.


Well, in terms of the rest of the art there, talk about a comprehensive collection! It really took me all day to walk through there, slowly and deliberately. I saw some old favorites of mine: Matisse, Picasso, Braque, Duchamp, Miro, Ernst, Man Ray, Dali, Modigliani; and discovered some new loves.

"Femme en Bleu" Picasso

"Le violon" Picasso

I also saw "Atelier de la Modiste" and the sketch "Minotaure" by Picasso.

"Autoportrait" Matisse 1900

"Portrait de Dèdie" Modigliani 1918

Unfortunately, my camera was running low on battery and I had to make it work for the next day so I didn't get as many photos as I wanted. The following I gleaned from the interwebs:

"Spitzen In Bogen" by Kandinsky

"Guilliaume Tell" Dali

I have pages and pages of notes on everything that I saw but it's too time consuming to find photos of every one and I think for you too boring to relate all of it. Suffice to say it was a lot, and it was great! I really enjoyed the way it was curated as well: loosely grouped according to the movements therein (Cubism, Dada). It was nice too to see a collection of Rauschenberg (though we have a few of his pieces at the Met), Duchamp, and even the filmmaker Bruce Connor, whose pieces were brought together just as they were at a show in New York in the 60's. 


With my iPod out of battery, my camera blinking with exhaustion and my blood sugar running low, I ran through the last few rooms (nothing but a few blinking neon sigts and some funhouse mirrors) and sat down to eat an apple. I called Lèa, my friend from the previous night. After the mutual realization of our mutual location and a mutual exclamation of disbelief (le monde est petit), I killed some time in the gift shop and met her outside. 


I was able to appreciate first-hand the community environment that was exemplified by the courtyard. We sat and Lèa immediately recognized a friend of hers, a busker who apparently hangs out there a lot. He have us a tambourine and maracas to help him with such classics (sung for my benefit) as "New York, New York" and "No Woman No Cry" (his version: "no woman, I die.")


I went on to Notre Dame and walked around, people watching and taking photos.

Hôtel de Ville, the mayor's office

Then, I walked down to Ile Saint-Louis, a quaint island in the middle of the Siene. Mostly residential, there is one main street with restaurants and shops. It was packed with pedestrians and tourists, wandering around and eating gelato.

I purchased a new scarf, since I had lost mine the day before. It's quite large, in the style of a Pashmina but it's 100% cotton and was made in India. 


After my ambling I met Lèa and some of her girlfriends for a drink. I ordered a beer and they were scandalized. "Bière?!" Nonplussed I answered "yo, yo" (Czech informal for 'yeah'). 


Then, Lèa took me to her apartment in Belleville, fed me dinner and watered me with lovely wine. Quite hospitable of her, I would say!

Lèa's flat

I successfully navigated the metro back to Taïs's place and after a brief chat fell into bed with exhaustion. Everyone was so welcoming everywhere I went, I was amazed. I think it has more to do with the fact that they are friends and family of a good friend of mine than the fact that they are French. Birds of a feather, they say, and it makes sense that all of us, who share relations and acquaintances, would get along so well.