Petals from the past

Posted on April 30, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

Brins de muguet, rue de Buci, Paris

After two wet weeks, the sun is finally shining. Tomorrow is 1 May, la Fête du Travail. This means the streets, stalls and supermarkets are filled with muguets (lilies of the valley). A brin de muguet is the symbol of a day celebrated since – depending on what you read – at least 1890 and perhaps the 16th century.

A fête du travail appeared after the Revolution. It was established by theatrical Fabre d’Eglantine, a poet and a chief source of names for the Revolution’s new calendar. Since the eglantine itself is a wild rose, this was once the appointed May Day flower. These days, though, it’s sprigs of muguet for friends and family.

On a day of international solidarity, these are supposed to bring good luck and happiness . But politics are making this year’s holiday into Halloween. May Day always sees the National Front’s ‘Joan of Arc’ rally (Joan being their symbol of resistance against “the foreigner”). Of course, it will star Marine Le Pen. Desperate for voters, however, Sarkozy also claimed it. He’s announced his own fête de vrai travail or “real work”.

The first French leader who hijacked this holiday – in 1941 – was Maréchal Pétain. Pétain led occupied France under the Nazis. So Sarko’s talk about “real work” (added to his views on immigration, foreigners and security) does risk creepy comparisons. Jean-Luc Mélenchon coined a new verb for the Président’s actions. Sarkozy, he says, aims to extreme-droitisier, ”transform the right into the extreme right”. The language he is using for it, Mélenchon claims, comes “directly from the collaboration”. According to him, the phrase vrai travail is “word for word the text of a poster by Pétain.”

Even Le Monde objects to Sarkozy’s recent rhetoric, claiming he “has crossed one moral line after another”. In just two days, the candidates meet for their one debate (known as le Duel). Until then, we can still smell the muguet.

Vendeur de muguets, Odeon by Steve Sampson

Le premier Mai c’est pas gai,
Je trime, a dit le muguet
Muguet, sois pas chicaneur,
Car tu donnes du bonheur
George Brassens

• Update 23.30 h The country’s largest union has now demanded Sarko go. But the President is insisting he never used the words vrai travail, just plain travail. TV news is having fun with this, carefully introducing his rally (over and over) as the “vrai Fête du Travail“. Meanwhile, extra cops are being assigned, a freak tornado has touched down near Toulouse and it’s raining again.

Vrai travail or pure mensonge? You can be the judge:

Paris romance in the rain

Posted on April 25, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

Paris as everyone dreams of it

A week of rain and there is still nothing new on the iPhone app, just drip after drip. This involves practicalities (because it’s so windy, your raincoat needs a capuche or hood) and niceties like never carting a wet umbrella into shops. (Look for the container; it’s usually by the door). However, here you can really celebrate the rain. Do it rhythmically like Raymond Queneau or wallow in it like Baudelaire. Go to a gazillion movies, especially classics in black and white. Even better: after schlepping to the market and the office, bunk off to Musée du Quai Branly. There a whole exhibit is dedicated to la Pluie. This expo proves it rains differently in different places, shows you protective gear from around the world and tells you how to make rain arrive when you want it. It also reminds one that women shopped during the downpours of the 1880s, too (at least according to Zola). It runs until 13 May 2012.
P.S. Two of the most effective hooded raincoats:
• My favourite this year: Claudie Pierlot’s “Gentil” parka. In white only, it has big pockets and a good weight. Your knees may be damp but you’ll still feel great. Only problem: sold out in most of Paris due to the rain.
• My trusty autumn choice was found on sale in the shoe shop Carel. Lined in fleece but light enough to throw over an arm, it’s fleece-lined black vinyl. It’s not stocked anymore, but I’ve still seen it online.

Twilight in the rain by Steve Sampson

Je fais le monde à ma façon, coulé dans l’or et le béton…

Posted on April 22, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

El Anatsui, La Triennale, Palais de Tokyo

El Anatsui, La Triennale by Steven Sampson

I’ll bet everyone likes installations by El Anatsui. They’re so dazzling and such an eloquent use of recycling. Last year Toronto gave him a forty-year retrospective with the great title “When I Last Wrote to You About Africa”. Well, on Thursday the Palais de Tokyo here reopened, with a bigshot art fest re-named La Triennale. There’s a specific title, too: Intense Proxmité. Anatsui has two pieces in it, both of which work big-time.

The Palais has always been this Thirties concrete leftover which has now been turned into a monster. Even enlarged to the size of three soccer fields, it doesn’t make the greatest art venue. (Sophie Calle had a show just before the refurb and one could see then there might be problems). Isaac Julien, one of the artists at the opening, thinks it’s an attempt to make a French Tate Modern. Certainly there is the same major problem, which is that the surroundings dwarf the works.

But El Anatsui’s contributions supersede this. His piece is not just ‘big’; it’s so fluid and flamboyant it can dominate the space. The work by him that’s really great, however, is not inside the Palais. It’s across the street on one façade of Musee Galliera. After twilight, this wall glitters and shimmers in gold and silver, while one section of it seems to wink in colour. It looks entirely magical and extraordinary.

There may not be many successes at this level but there are lots of ‘oldies but goodies’ to see. Plus Camille Henrot has made a marvellous work by inventing political ikebana! She calls her installation Est-il possible d’être révolutionnaire et d’aimer les fleurs? (Is it possible to be a revolutionary and like flowers?). Seeing Marx and Lévi-Strauss etc. as bouquets and “arrangements” kind of hits the perfect note of contradiction here. Of course the Palais doesn’t actually have Japanese connections. It’s just that the street in front of it – now the Avenue de New York – was once called the Avenue de Tokio (sic). Still, Henrot proves you really can say it with flowers!

El Anatsui, La Triennale, Musée Galliera

El Anatsui, facade of Musée Galliera by Steven Sampson

Juste au coin de la rue

Posted on April 17, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

Square Gabriel Pierné

Last week it seemed to be spring. It was so persuasive even the huge Parc des Buttes Chaumont broke with tradition, announcing it would start closing at nine p.m. four weeks early. This produced a happy flood of evening joggeuses and pique-niques. But the faux spring was most deeply felt in local spots like our street’s tiny Square Gabriel Pierné.

This is a quiet, often deserted garden named after composer-conductor Henri Constant Gabriel Pierné (1863 – 1937). A popular, multi-talented fellow buried up in Père Lachaise, Pierné championed work by colleagues such as Debussy, Ravel and Camille Saint-Saëns (a pal). For the Ballets Russes, he conducted the world première of Stravinski’s “The Firebird”.

But music is just part of the local patrimoine. Since the days of Marat and Danton, our neighborhood has been known for publishing. So I find it fun that the garden benches here are shaped like open books. There’s also a cheekily-posed nude female, “Carolina”, sculpted by Italian Marcello Tommasi in ’68. During that same decade, another Marcello (the movie star Mastroianni) bought a flat in the rue de Seine. He made the area so trendy among his countrymen that many locals still call it la Petite Italie.

Our garden may be small and scruffy but it has gorgeous cherry trees, as well as rhododendrons and magnolias. Also, its “floor” is made of granite and sandstone slabs. (Last winter, a few on the rue de Seine side subsided). Oldest item in the garden? A fountain by Evariste Fragonard, son of the Rococo painter who created “The Swing”. Fragonard Junior finished his fontaine in 1819, for the Carmelite market that had operated in Place Maubert since the 1500s. Only eleven years later, the market was demolished. That’s when it was relocated here, prestigiously near the Institut de France.

Like the frivolities depicted by Fragonard père, our spring preview had to end sooner or later. One day there was an awesome canopy of cherry blossoms. A windy weekend later, they are just a (digital) memory.

Débarrasse-toi, pauvre con!

Posted on April 15, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

As the first round approaches this weekend, it’s Election Fever (followed closely by Titanic mania). There are lots of street art pieces, posters, pamphlets and similar japes. My favourites are these fake street signs, which appeared a fortnight ago. There was one in the rue de l’Ancienne Comédie where we buy our bread. Appeared by night, taken down before lunchtime. So, a huge thank you to the toilers of la Toile for preserving at least some of them!
Let’s just hope it’s not just wishful thinking.
Update: Two days before the first tour, during the night, a sign appeared midway down our street. It was still there Saturday morning, one day before the start of le scrutin.

21 April 2012

Ah, les beaux jours!

Posted on April 13, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

I remember this expression from every lesson that used memory to explain the imparfait and the passé compose. But, when they finally start to arrive after winter, one does start remembering! After being deprived so long, les beaux jours feel great. There are smiles and sunglasses everywhere; people take to the terraces and storm the Vélib’ bournes. Women peddle by in slingback heels, puppies or flowers in their bicycle baskets. Best of all, my favorite vehicle in the neighborhood reappears.

Mission accomplie

Posted on April 11, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

Lucie and Raymond Aubrac, undated © Musée de la Résistance nationale, Champigny

News at noon that Raymond Aubrac has died. Aged 97, this Resistance hero was the last person alive to have known Jean Moulin. Moulin was the talent who made the Resistance work; he and Aubrac were betrayed and captured together. From his cell, the latter saw a dying Moulin hauled away.

Aubrac was also half of a great romantic couple. His late wife Lucie was famous for the courage with which she sprang him from the clutches of Klaus Barbie. Thanks to her, he escaped the fate of Jean Moulin.

Less than a week ago, at a library evening, I met that other grand résistant, Stéphane Hessel. It brought up the memory of seeing him and Aubrac in London in 2011. That was before Hessel published his surprise best-seller Indignez-Vous!. Yet, clearly, both grands résistants remained active in left-wing politics.

That evening, I had come to see Aubrac. When the guests of honour made their way out through the crowded theatre, he walked up the aisle inches away from our seats. Only as he passed did I realise I was staring – because he suddenly smiled and gave a flirtatious wink.

In all today’s memory pieces, his wit is very present. Of course there is Marxism, Moulin and the current election (in which he, like Hessel, endorsed Hollande). But Aubrac liked to joke that no one really wanted his views. “After one attains the age of 75, one’s opinions on the present and future interest no one. I am condemned to speak about the past, which I gladly do. But more time and energy should be spent thinking about the future.”

Asked a year ago what about his amazing life made him proudest, Aubrac replied, “The choice of Lucie as my partner. In life, you know, you make just three or four fundamental choices. Everything else is a matter of chance.”

Last year, one exposition covered the years of occupation. It showcased the precious scraps of paper passed between citizens, the call–to–arms newsletters and the machines of the ‘underground press’. It was shocking to discover the simple tools upon which resistance depended. Who would have thought the mimeograph machine could save a nation!

Resistance began, Aubrac always noted, with mere graffiti and notes through letter boxes. However, he always stressed the tools that actually led to triumph: words and brains. Moulin was able to forge a secret army “because he never used the usual authority. He never forced his own views on anyone; he had a way of making sure that every person’s view was heard.”

Aubrac always maintained that Moulin was one of a kind. “For seventy years now, every time I confront a problem, I have asked myself, ‘What he would advise me to do?’” After the war, Aubrac returned to the infamous house in Lyon where both of them were captured. Incredibly, he found his pipe resting on the mantel.

“It was exactly where I left it when they handcuffed me.” Aubrac took up the pipe, and the responsibility. The latter he carried with him until the end.

• Lucie Aubrac’s daring ruse for rescuing her husband was the subject of the 1997 film by Claude Berri.
• Read Le Monde‘s interview with Aubrac about his life as a résistant.
• Visit Le Musée de la Résistance nationale à Champigny.

Art down under

Posted on April 9, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

Hôtel de Ville métro

The Paris métro has many advantages. When one is used to the Tube, it’s shocking in a positive way. Not only do trains rarely idle for eons without explanation, nor is half the system out of commission at weekends. Some disgruntled commuters say the transport authority’s RATP initials stand for Rentrez Avec Tes Pieds. But the organisation does a fair bit to make travel aesthetic.

The RATP co-sponsors a lot of cultural projects. They are, for instance, a happy partner of the Robert Doisneau/Les Halles project (admission:free). This kind of expo makes one dream about the picture-and-story mags (Vu here, Picture Post in Britain) that kept so many guys like Doisneau employed. His life-of-a-market study was the work of a banlieusard who fell in love with the inner city’s “stomach”. He captured its singular métiers, its characters and its nocturnal flair. But many of his shots required permits received only through picture-magazine commissions.

The show is so popular it’s never without a queue. To signal the wait “from this point” in hours, Disneyland-like signs have been erected. But the Hôtel de Ville métro stop offers a great sneak preview. Huge collaged market scenes and characters run the length of both its platforms, looking spookily abstract when viewed from across the track.

The Franklin D Roosevelt station has also been improved. It used to be a notably grimy point of descent. Now, it’s a pleasant cross between a disco and someone’s Swinging Sixties pad.

Franklin D Roosevelt métro stop (line 1) April 2012

Métro Franklin Roosevelt, old style (line 9)

What to bring home from Paris?

Posted on April 8, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

Petit Pan, rue François Miron 75004

Last week brought a bunch of emails about Paris presents and/or souvenirs. Broadcasts are hopeless to search, but I write about shopping for a travel site called Girl’s Guide to Paris. So, from now on, I’m referring people to these:
• Candles with a history
• Funky French souvenirs
Since I wrote this, Pylones opened a shop in the Carrousel du Louvre; they also have a stand in BHV.
• Jars of stars What I love here is the sequins. They come in glassine bags of stars, etc and can be sprinkled into other presents or just into letters…NB: The two Petit Pan shops in rue François Miron have now swapped spots.
• Packable souvenirs from Plastiques We have the most gorgeous tablecloth from here, with plastic coasters. I love them both.
• Perfect presents for the cook One of those magic stores, which now has a lot more prominence. They currently stock more proprietary products and have a mini-stall at BHV. But they’re still as delightful as ever.
• Treats for the gardener or garden-lover
• Two spots for one-stop Christmas shopping This is about Le Grande Epicerie and the Beaubourg. The sculpted sugar presents at the GE are there all year and everyone always loves them. Here you can also find Miel de Paris (formerly Miel of Paris!), the souvenir guys like to buy. There’s an Eiffel Tower on the label and the jars are small. On the other hand, each one costs 14 euros.
• Xmas presents that say “Paris”

Ourson

Posted on April 6, 2012 by Cynthia Rose

Ourson in front of his establishment by Steven Sampson

Ourson is a local propriètaire and one of the area’s hardest working residents. He’s also one of its most typically Parisian. In other words, he is perfectly polite but likes to keep a distance. A bonjour or bonsoir is appreciated, but he’s too busy to get more involved. The idea of l’apprivoisement au Petit Prince is a bit beneath Ourson’s level of sophistication. He’s petit mais costaud, a real mec. His name, which it took a year to learn, means “bear cub”.

Regardless of the weather, Ourson executes his duties – which include but are not limited to patrolling, guarding and cultivating available sun. Because his café sits on a roundabout, he can’t be too careful. Sometimes it’s best to be positioned full-length in front, so as to protect as much pavement as possible.

Going to work or coming home, one often crosses his path. But, on a mission, Ourson cannot be distracted. He bootles around checking in with fellow commerçants and sniffs out any changes in his ‘hood.

Recently, day after day, his post remained vacant. It went on longer than even his holiday (Ourson is an aoûtien) and became extremely disturbing. Then, suddenly he was back, with a scar on his back. For a while there was less spring in the step which makes him seem like a low, bobbing sofa. In the end, it’s only added to his manly aura.

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Monthly Archives: April 2012