Nuit Blanche 2009

It is a joy to return to the City of Light, to the home of good friends, in anticipation of a full night of art, the Sleepless Night: Nuit Blanche. The English language Press Kit was a welcome resource, preparing me for the strong presence of video installations. I like video. As with all art, some is fantastic, some is rubbish. But for me, it is just not as engaging in a setting where the audience is moving, wandering, as other more sculptural media are. But video is the modern form. It can speak with greater breadth and depth than can oil on canvas. I am the first to admit I've had my fill of dark old Dutch Masters, rooms of prosperous men in fabulous hats. But Nuit Blanche lays a lot of ground to cover, stylistically and, more pragmatically, geographically. So I peruse the Press Kit, read the descriptions of the major artists and their works, and do a little planning for the night.

Now, after a decadent meal of crepes and cider (we watched a mountain of butter disappear onto the griddle even as a good and tasty portion of it was disappearing down our gullets), we head off into the night.

We find, by plan, an interesting melange of sound, motion, light, and color. Giant glowing multicolor crystals had grown up inside Notre Dame. A monstrous UFO-like disco ball hovered over the Senate and Luxembourg Gardens, spinning and dancing its lights across the grounds, the pond, the low-hanging clouds. A 40 voice motet was played through 40 speakers in a circle, giving the effect of being in an incredible choir.

Shadows of sweetly frightening figures played across a screen in the park. Imagine the music from The Nightmare Before Christmas. A hillside covered in red umbrellas looked down on a lake, glowing with blue, white, and red lights beneath its surface. These are but a few of the wonderful artworks Paris put out for free, for the night, for the people. If I were Parisienne, I would take that Press Kit well before, find the most auspicious bit of sidewalk or square, and put up my own art. It's quite possible that some of what we saw was exactly that. The whole scene would be enriched by greater density of art, one night of Burning Man distilled, more participants encouraged amongst the audience. And of course, more fire is always good. Like many of the pieces themselves, the Sleepless Nights are growing works in process around the world. Find one near you! Take it it, mull it around, see what comes out, and call it your art. (all photos: cvl)

Doing the French Mistake?

It could be that 18 months in Italy have substantially altered my expectations, but I have just found Parisian clerks and shopkeepers to be pleasant, helpful even. No, really, one walks into a store and someone says, "Bonjour." At the counter, after realizing I've exhausted all of my three French phrases, they smile and find some way to conduct the transaction. Remember, it's not uncommon to walk into an Italian shop and find no one, maybe overhear conversation in the back room, but be left with the feeling that they just don't care if they sell anything, ever. The French waitress who said our chocolat chaud et pâtisseries were going to take a looong time barely registered on our rude-o-meter, but our friends who live in Paris were dismayed by her demeanor. True, she brought the wrong size drinks, but the bill reflected that. And it took only half as long as she had threatened. It was a chilly, drizzly day and we had tucked ourselves under the awning. She probably would have preferred to remain inside. In her position, so would I.

But, yes... gay Paris! The Tower has taken up sparkling again, there is art and inspiration for art everywhere, women go about in (reasonably) comfortable shoes. Le pain et les chocolats sont fantastiques. Even in a quiet little park there was an inspiring cat. It was thoroughly grey and rounded. Maybe there was more cat on its frame than needed be, but its lines were beautiful. It was so friendly so as to make photography difficult, constantly approaching the camera and playing with the wrist cord. It caused Craig to think that, perhaps, Chutney Wordsworth has been trying to emulate the drawings I've been doing, very linear. He's trying to be string-and-stick cat. I must draw this round grey Parisian cat and maybe my own little grey cat will attempt to become more three dimensional.

Then there is the transit system. Uncle John is right in that even the natives must carry guides. But that is no disparagement. The system is just so complex that to be most efficient carrying the maps is essential. Joe has even attached a little magnifying glass to his booklet for times of suboptimal illumination. Speedy, convenient, efficient, and economical: what's not to love? Yeah, sure, it's a subway and sometimes smells like it. But it takes my fond memories of San Francisco's Muni/BART system and sends them packing. As much as I love my City by the Bay, the City of Light has caught my eye. Nay, she's turning my head.