A Parisian interlude
Before returning home from our Breton adventures this year, my mother and I stopped off in Paris for two days.
photo by my mother
We made the obligatory pilgrimage to L’As Du Fallafel for a portable lunch…
...which we ate at the Square Georges Cain with various birds and pigeons begging for the scrumptious falafel crumbs.
photo by my mother
Then we spent the afternoon at the Centre Georges Pompidou with friends. We’d originally planned to go to the Musée Picasso, but it’s closed—even though its website doesn’t make that fact immediately clear. In any case, the change of plan ended up being a very good thing because I finally rediscovered a painting I’ve been trying to find for months now! I knew I’d seen it in a museum somewhere but, being a bit of a museum junkie, I wasn’t sure which city I was in at the time, much less which institution owned this prize.
Pablo Picasso’s Arlequin 1923
For his 1923 Arlequin, Picasso used the rigorous contour crosshatching lines of engraving, but he did them in color and in paint.
detail image of Pablo Picasso’s Arlequin 1923
When I came across this work ten years ago, I had just stumbled on similar method myself. I had started applying my intaglio printmaking crosshatching to my paintings, and I was excited to see Picasso of all people doing it too. His painting made me feel like I must be on the right track.
Maman and Brigitte with Jesus-Rafael Soto’s Virtual Cobalto 1978-1979
The rest of the Pompidou was full of delicious surprises too, and I was excited to be able to bring home a souvenir of all of them. The Pompidou is brilliant for allowing visitors to photograph its collection. It’s the free culture revolution manifested by a major institution which could be majorly stodgy but instead chooses to lead the way!
Marcel Duchamp’s In Advance Of The Broken Arm 1915/1964
Duchamp’s found object works usually leave me cold. As a rule, they’re more interesting in concept and in their seminal place in the history of art than they are to contemplate in person. But, for whatever reason, his snow shovel didn’t strike me that way this time. Maybe it’s because right now I am more accutely aware of my transitional status as the daughter of an immigrant? In any case, something about a Frenchman elevating this very American item to art struck a cord with me.
Jim Hodges’ Hello Again 1994-2003
As it turns out, I don’t love Jim Hodges’ work…
Jim Hodges’ Untitled 1997
...but I was impressed by the consistency of his hand across widely varying media. He creates in everything from silver chains and mirrors to silk flowers and ink, and in every case it was clear that the same person had made the work. I like that coherence: it makes me feel like there’s a real person on the other end of the art, like I’m being communicated with instead of being communicated at.
Sigalit Landau’s Barbed Hula 2001
The museum was doing a special exhibit of works of the female artists in its collection, including this one by Sigalit Landau, a video of a naked woman hula hooping with a circle of barbed wire. Difficult to watch, difficult to forget.
ORLAN’s Le Baiser De L’Artiste 1977
ORLAN’s piece made me wonder if every female artist doesn’t have to make a piece about her struggle with the concept of the artist as object. I know I did.
Monika Sosnowska’s Rubble 2006-2008
Simple, classy, and a completely unnerving in a video-game-meets-life kind of way. And, because I love seeing the similarities and how they bring out the nuances of individual pieces, I have to wonder if this isn’t the Polish answer to this piece.
The Parisian version of a cow—curiously tall and tree-like.
The Parisian version of Halloween—curiously chique in its camp.
The Parisian version of the American slogan—curiously self-centered. Actually, that’s not fair since I have no idea whose street art this is.
photo by my mother
The Parisian version of a friend from college—curiously easy to reconnect with Len after going seven years without talking to her!
The Alsatian version of pizza, flammekueche found in a Paris restaurant—curiously delicious.
After two days in Paris, I was done. I don’t know how I ever lived there as a student: these days, I’m more of a Portland-sized girl.
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Bisous!!!!
Claire...
So great to see these photos! I like your photo of our reflection in the broken (spiderwebby) mirror much more than the mirror itself, which was a little cold and distant and, well, broken; but our reflection is warm!
--- -- - --- - ---- - - --- ----- -- -It was wonderful to see you and your mother. I hope to see you again soon… We could even hang out somewhere that isn’t Paris, if you’d prefer!!