Paris II

An eclectic, Parisian Saturday

Slow Art, L’institut Suedois a Paris

Martial Raysse, Center Pompidou

Picnics by Canal St Martin, 10th.

Wanderlust, La cite de la mode et du design

Seeking a little cultural nourishment after a lazy brunch, we stumbled upon L’Institute Suedois (the Swedish Cultural Institute), 11 Rue Payenne, Le Marais., which is famous for its nihilistic café and rather magical gardens obscured by the palatial exterior. We were lured in by the intriguing title of the Slow Art Movement’s retrospective. The concept behind it is a total rejection of the contemporary reality that by mass producing art in the 21^st century, the original emotional impact is lost – an idea originally pondered by the German aesthetics philosopher Immanuel Kant who believed that great art had to have a depth of soul beyond its aesthetic value.

These Swedish artists and craftspeople wish to counteract a world, which regretfully values innovation and speed above the past role of the craftsman as an artist who spent hours perfecting their work. The movement celebrates the meticulous creative process behind an object, by presenting textiles, glass, ceramics and silver, which have all been made by hand.  Upon entering, we were immediately drawn to what resembled a shadowy, monochrome photograph, but only to realise that it was in fact a work of embroidery, Shadows by Malin Lager (1946) who describes her needle like a paintbrush and her thread as the paint. A stirringly beautiful work sat next to it; Jane Reumert’s Snow Owl bowl, which could be confused for a collage of feathers, but is in fact finely worked, nearly transparent clay.

Our favourite piece in the first room was Helena Sandstrom’s eggshell necklace, which was almost ethereal in its delicacy. To continue with the exhibition you cross the courtyard, past an array of beautiful Nordic’s gathering to indulge on the café’s delicacies, but don’t be tempted to join them at the rickety tables, because there is a gorgeous little secret garden if you follow the staircase and aren’t afraid to push a few doors. Head to Marche des Enfants Rouges, 39 Rue de Bretagne for some lunch en route to the Pompidou or to gather ingredients for cooking in your tiny kitchen as we did.

Martial Raysse, Center Pompidou

14 May-22 September

Only streets away, the Pompidou Centre’s summer exhibition opens with a quote from Raysse, “Today’s art is a rocket in space. Prisunic supermarkets are the museums of Modern Art’, which defines the experience you will have. The provocative artist Martial Raysse was born to a family of ceramicists in 1936 and after becoming obsessed with the beauty of plastic as he worked amongst the New Realists of Nice, moved to New York to submerge himself in the Pop Art scene as illustrated by the electrifying explosion of colour in his work. 

The Pompidou brings together 200 paintings, sculptures, films, photographs and drawings, presenting the eclectic diversity of his work. As you stroll round the exhibition it is immediately obvious that what makes his work so intriguing is the juxtaposition of his neon celebration of consumer society - which could have been found in Warhol’s factory – with a string of innovative works in fluorescent paint, which seek to reflect the lessons of the Old Masters with their theories of perspective, allegorical systems and symbolism. 

Upon first entry you are confronted with a somewhat disheartening array of sculptures made from trash and the odd cliché neon sign, but when you move through past the ‘beach theatre’ and suddenly recognize the Italian Renaissance artist, Titian’s Venus of Urbino, it is somewhat endearing - even if she looks like she’s tumbled out of a rave on acid. 

What follows are various anonymous portraits of stereotyped women in bold, block colour, which I don’t doubt that the likes of Feminist Art Historian Griselda Pollock would jump at the chance to dissect. There are also many sober attempts at rather bland figurative drawing and sculpture, which would best be ignored. 

However, we were utterly bewitched by Raysse’s somewhat hypnotic and totally bizarre films. One depicted the intriguingly slow process of a well-dressed gentleman decapitating a beautiful flower, before stripping it off leaves and taking a hammer to the flowerpot. The possible meanings are endless and there is nothing like a good debate on the highs and lows of feminism to warm an afternoon. In short, I certainly wouldn’t travel to Paris to see Martial Raysse’s retrospective if you’re perfectly satisfied with the likes of Warhol, but it is certainly a fabulous use of an hour if you find yourself at a loss in the City of Lights.

Picnics by Canal St Martin, 10th.

The best way to end a day in Paris is to gather for a picnic and let it melt into a night of dancing. On my first night back in the city, we gathered on the banks of Canal St Martin, not far from the charming little studio i'm renting high up in the rafters of a building on the banks. 

On the stroll down I passed this street artists collaborating on a captivating neon interpretation of  fast living and only minutes later paused to watch an enthralling performance of The Tempest in the park, with actors in full Shakespearean costume. 

The canal’s atmosphere is always chilled and intimate, with an eclectic mix of musicians and bohemian locals, but rarely any tourists. Some people will bring tables and chairs down from their apartment and eat on the street, but most will sit on the water. We had a lovely spot, perilously close to the edge, just in front of local haunt, Chez Prune.

 Lit only by the odd streetlight and the windows of surrounding apartments, we could barely see our spread of charcuterie, mozzarella and fabulous little cherry tomatoes. There are various supermarkets along the banks, where you can buy gorgeous wine for nothing, so we drank delicious rose and a little red to protect us from the breeze. But, if you’re feeling a little in need of something nutritious Sol Semilla, Rue de Vinaigries offers a delicious selection of superfood salads and even aphrodisiac guarana smoothies to take away.

Wanderlust, La cite de la mode et du design.

32 Quai d’Austerlitz

My favourite place to go dancing in Paris is the eclectic setting of Wanderlust or Nuba, 32 Quai d’Austerlitz, where you can dance, chill, eat, talk, drink, watch projected films or dangle your feet over the Seine and generally submerge yourself in Bourgeois-Boheme nightlife. The crowd are the alarmingly beautiful, funky, young set so the door policy is a little rigid, but if you’re wearing enough black and looking suitable sullen, you’ll have no problem.

 I am not normally a great lover of clubbing, but here I can dance until sunrise. Known for their DJs mixing the crème de la crème of ‘French touch’ electronic dance music like I: Cube, Etienne de Crecy and Para one, which all keep you on your toes. The joy of the variety is that you can dash between dance floors as your attention span wavers. The appeal of this 1,600 square metre outdoor terrace is the unique blend of funky techno music, art films projected on the walls and most importantly the space you have to just pull up a bunch of chairs and share a bottle of wine (and a somewhat extortionate pizza) whilst the Seine drifts by.

 But, if you need more choice, the uber-cool Nuba is just upstairs on the roof, where you’ll find a couple more diverse dance floors, both inside and out and more of an après-ski atmosphere, which even includes a chip van. If you only have one weekend in Paris, I would choose Nuba, because the slightly elevated, smaller rooftop setting makes it feel more intimate - it feels more like going to a friend's garden party where you're free to wander between the crowds.