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 21st 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.
