look. read. shop.

One of my favorite shops, which also happens to be in the Northern Marais where I call home, is Ofr., a boutique, bookstore and gallery. Genius! While you are perusing the impressive collection of art and design books, you can stumble into the back gallery and live an art experience. If you are new to Paris, owner Alexandre Thumerelle will guide you, literally, with his very own Guide Paris.

Here too, amidst the fine art photography filled walls,  you can find my hand-printed rive gauche and rive droite bags. A perfect setting for wearable art! And perfect bags to fill with books!

During my last visit I entered the creative vision of artist Jeremy Everett. What exactly did I find?

The American Heritage Dictionary. Unlike I have ever seen it.

Stay tuned for the 15 year Ofr. party on May 20th! And check here for more art events.

vintage lives

Recently I attended an event at the newly opened Rose Bakery in the 12th, well situated within the walls of contemporary art space La Maison Rouge. It was not the tasty appetizers nor the wine that whet my appetite. Nor was it the ‘tous cannibales‘ exhibition spread throughout the space. (Quite a shock to the senses for anyone attending!) What most captured my gaze and provoked many a thought was an exhibition by Chiharu Shiota entitled, From Where We Come and What We Are.

Hundreds of beaten up suitcases constructing what appeared to be a house; a form of shelter.

I could not help but to think of the lives of and behind these suitcases, where had they traveled, on what journey had they been, when and for how long. These vintage bags had many a story to tell, as did those whose hands they had passed through.

Chiharu asks ‘Do memories help construct us or do they prevent us from moving on?’ A good question. Personally, I choose the former.


concrete jungle

Admittedly, I often miss the feeling of being lost in a concrete jungle, also known as New York City. Feeling so small amidst such grandness has a certain appeal. Perhaps it’s the feeling of so many lives being lived vertically, that behind each window another story is unfolding. And simply to look up is to feel alive! Rather than hop on a jet and cross the ocean I hop on the 1 train. Destination: La Défense. 

Recently I had some business to tend to in Neuilly Sur Seine, a wealthy suburb to the west of Paris. What most appealed to me were the views of the skyscrapers ahead, or what is actually Paris’s major business district. Beneath a moody sky, I decided to walk. My Italian lunch date awaited.

I crossed the Seine from the peace of a small French village into the energy of concrete motion.

En route I was impressed with the many artistic displays, both on the ground and in the architecture.

One particular place is my favorite. A wooden boardwalk behind the Grande Arche, overlooking a blanket of trees and a cemetery. It is here where we often sit. And I think of the many lives once lived below and the many being lived above. 

Soon La Défense will be wrapped in holiday lights. A view from the top of the Grande Arche beckons.

history vs modernity

While the Italians were in town we took them to Versailles. Just in case they weren’t thoroughly impressed from day one in Paris.

As excited as they were to visit this 17th Century Château, I was equally excited to view the current Murakami exhibit, a source of controversy since its inception in mid-September. I was determined to find all 22 works by Takashi Murakami, including the 11 created specifically for the show, and to discover what all the hype was about. All this while enjoying the splendor of Versailles, which I had previously visited as a student, back in the days when art was confined to museums and galleries.

My first impression was disdain as I felt too distracted by the art to pay much attention to the grandeur of the architecture. That quickly turned to child-like curiosity, as I entered each ornately decorated room, eager to discover which brightly-coloured creatures lurked behind the corner.

It was the unique contrast in the Baroque setting and the art that held my interest.

During this tour, I wondered to myself what exactly was the motivation for France to curate such a show? Setting the precedent with Jeff Koons’ exhibit in 2008, were they attempting to position themselves as provocateurs in the art world? Or perhaps this is all a political ploy to strengthen relations between France and Japan. Whatever the reason, I was throughly entertained and enjoyed it more than not. The Italians thought it amusing but lacked my enthusiasm. The French tourists, upon over-hearing several conversations, were deeply dismayed. (Right-wingers no doubt.)

The final room held no 17th Century distractions, merely smiley flowers to lighten the mood.

For those confused about how modernity can find a home within the walls of history (myself included), Curator Laurent Le Bon offers a little clarity, “The unique experience seeks above all to spark a reflection of the contemporary nature of our monuments and indispensable need to create out own era.”

Still confused? In this video which takes you on a tour of the exhibition, Murakami explains his reasoning behind working so diligently to create his manga universe at Versailles. What I found interesting is how he defines space in France versus Japan, two very disparate cultures. “In France you have this tradition to conquer and manage space and to represent it in three dimensions. In Japan, there is this tradition to flatten out reality to take a real three dimensional space and transform it into two dimensions.”  Another interesting note, Murakami considers his work somewhat like origami which can be manipulated in various ways. I would have to agree.

The grand finale in the exhibition is the Oval Buddha in the garden. Very grand and very gold. If you have not yet experienced the controversy, the show is up until December 12, 2010. Well worth it!

Still, I am left to wonder, should modern art find a home in history?

nuit blanche 2010

Nuit Blanche is one of my favorite nights in Paris. My first was last year and immediately I became a fan of this night of organized creative chaos. The city comes to frenetic life from dusk until dawn. Around every corner an art installation waits to be discovered, in churches, hospitals, gardens…virtually everywhere. My favorite exhibits are often those found by accident, such as the image of a person sleeping, found in a boutique in the Marais, a light installation by Frédérique Chauveau.

Long sheer illuminated curtains, blowing in the wind at the Swedish Institute…eerily romantic.

'love the differences' by Michelangelo Pistoletto's at Hotel de Ville

Love the Differences in many languages by Michelangelo Pistoletto…love the cultural melange!

Atsara created one of my favorite light installations, hidden in a courtyard on Isle Saint Louis.

The rose window of Notre Dame lit up beneath a pitch plack sky, by Thierry Dreyfus.
A perfect grand finale…at 3am.

meet Paul Klee

Art does not reproduce the visible; rather, it makes visible -Paul Klee 

If there were an artist I would have loved to sit down to dinner with a good bottle of French wine, (there are so many, but having to choose only one) it would be Paul Klee. Not simply because he was a talented musician, writer AND painter, nor for the fact that his unique style of painting included the art movements of expressionism, cubism, and surrealism, but because certain of his paintings evoke in me a feeling so rare and magical that I would love to know the workings of his mind. To know how these painting came to life. I have learned this somewhat, by reading the passionate and provocative prose of his diaries, and whenever possible I search for his work in museums around the world, including two of my favorites, the Tate Modern in London and the MOMA in NYC.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon with Mr. Klee in Paris. He work was featured at the Musée de l’Orangerie, what is now one of my favorite museums in Paris (in addition to the Musée d‘Orsay, loved by all for it’s renowned Impressionist collection). The exhibition was very soon ending (today in fact!). I had been meaning to go for ages, and finally made a date with the master.

I brought my Italian, curious whether he would fall in love the way I did upon my first Klee encounter, so many years ago. Does not taste in art make a relationship even stronger? Well, not really, but if it’s a passion then surely it should be shared. We were both impressed with the collection of 26 works by Ernst Beyeler, one of the founders of Art Basel. I enjoyed the show but missed some of my favorite pieces that hang in Klee’s country of birth, Switzerland. 

That reminds me. One of the most memorable nights spent during my travels was in Bern. I arrived in the late afternoon, and as luck would have it, on my one night in the city, the Paul Klee Museum was open until 9pm. Needless to say, I spent over 3 hours in what felt like the most intimate encounter with a man and his work.

Klee once so wisely said, Art should be like a holiday: something to give a man the opportunity to see things differently and to change his point of view.

It is Paul Klee that speaks to me again now, in this time of wandering, that we must never cease to search, and always to dream.

Childhood was a dream, some day all would be accomplished. The period of learning, a time for searching into everything, into the smallest, into the most hidden, into the good and the bad. Then a light is lit somewhere, and a single direction is followed (that stage I now enter, let us call it the time of wandering).

One of my favorites: Chat et Oiseau (1928) 


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