We went to Paris in the later week of the Easter holidays having both read some short travelogue essays from the Austrian writer Joseph Roth. His collection and depiction on the 'White Cities' gives Paris an illuminating presence, a radiance of beauty, refinement and sophistication undercut by a symbiotic secret life; strange people in dark spaces that lurk beneath its skin. Our trip sought experiences in both Paris' elegant surface world and its nether regions. We stayed in what can only be described as a 'liveable' (I joked that Mary and Joseph would have preferred the stable) hotel near the Gare de l'est. No boutique living for us. Just a simple bed, workable shower and small TV. The life around the Gare de l'est buzzes with foreign vistors, business people and waves of migrants each negotiating the boulevards. It's not a pretty area, but there is a buzz as people swarm from one place to another. The life around the Bastille down the road a bit is where white Parisian culture is to be experienced. A soho-lite as young urbanite Parisiens pose and party in the clubs and bars in the backstreets (thanks to Vincent for showing us).
Denfert Rocherot hides deeper secrets. A necropolis is situated under the streets, an infinite labyrinth of catacombs host to the eighteenth century dead of Paris, including Robespierre. In close proximity (and perhaps apt considering the content of the show) was an exhibition at the Fondation Cartier devoted to the visual fine art of the American film director David Lynch. David Lynch has a dark brain. He is fascinated with the work of Francis Bacon, Wasily Kandinsky and Picasso and has a love of the grotesque. His images convert pipes into body parts, the living to the dead. The exhibition had drawings and scribblings, some on tea stained toilet paper, others from yellowing torn out pages of his notebooks. Lynch is a better fine artist on larger canvases. These were impressive, depicting the range of his visual talent. The scribblings were less so, derivative of abstract expressionism, the work of Kandinsky and constructivists, some of which were poorly executed. The short films were a real success. 'Grandmother' was a distrubing look into the world of love and protection - although Sophie thought it was about child abuse and molestation. Other short films combined action sequences and animation resplendent of the work of Terry Gilliam. All the exibition was set an industrial pulse.
Denfert Rocherot hides deeper secrets. A necropolis is situated under the streets, an infinite labyrinth of catacombs host to the eighteenth century dead of Paris, including Robespierre. In close proximity (and perhaps apt considering the content of the show) was an exhibition at the Fondation Cartier devoted to the visual fine art of the American film director David Lynch. David Lynch has a dark brain. He is fascinated with the work of Francis Bacon, Wasily Kandinsky and Picasso and has a love of the grotesque. His images convert pipes into body parts, the living to the dead. The exhibition had drawings and scribblings, some on tea stained toilet paper, others from yellowing torn out pages of his notebooks. Lynch is a better fine artist on larger canvases. These were impressive, depicting the range of his visual talent. The scribblings were less so, derivative of abstract expressionism, the work of Kandinsky and constructivists, some of which were poorly executed. The short films were a real success. 'Grandmother' was a distrubing look into the world of love and protection - although Sophie thought it was about child abuse and molestation. Other short films combined action sequences and animation resplendent of the work of Terry Gilliam. All the exibition was set an industrial pulse.
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