Expos

I am beginning to tackle my never-ending list of museums and expos to visit. No mean feat in Springtime in Paris.
Last week I finally made it to the recently established centquatre centre in the 19th. The space was excellent, not feeling at all Parisian but more like Berlin cleaned up or the Tate Modern Turbine Hall.


It's a huge space but not a whole lot going on... however we went there especially to see an architectural installation which recreated Villa Arpel, the house from Jacques Tati's 1958 visual masterpiece Mon Oncle. The house is the scene where lovable Monsieur Hulot struggles with modern architecture, mechanical efficency and American-style consumerism.


Apparently the home was so admired that there is a real replica outside Paris built by an avid fan.

My co-curator Johan was an excellent companion.
Here he is doing a little research for our upcoming project.

As the clouds interrupted today's scheduled tanning and iced-tea rooftop session, I instead popped in to the Marine Museum to see the current show about marines and fashion 'Sailor chic in Paris'.


Despite reports of mediocrity, I was not at all disappointed. Unfortunately owing to the prohibition of photography my snaps were the only thing mediocre.

They really covered everything, including tattoos, visual art (Pierre et Gilles) music videos, hats, magazines...

...and some fabulous haute couture. Of course lots of Sonia Rykiel, YSL, Chanel, classic Lanvin but also some MMM and Tsumori Chisato.

It was one of the best shows I have seen in a long time (regardless of my nautical bias) and so exellently curated. I hope I can make shows like that one day....

Soiree au Ballet

Tonight I went to the Ballet, courtesy of Mother.
The performance was a contemporary work based on Proust's The Rememberance of Things Past. The venue was none other than the Paris Opera Garnier.


The interior was magnificent, opulent and lavish and so well maintained. I entertained myself dreaming of the crowds who frequented these halls in the the 1920's and 30's.

I was looking forward to some people watching, it being a solo outing, but unfortunately the audience disappointed in costume and intrigue.


The theatre was opulent in red and gold...


aside from the intervention of the playfully painted ceiling by Chagall.


The performance was nothing short of sublime.
While the music included Debussy, Beethoven and Wagner, the choreography was contemporary and edgy. It was always graceful, sometimes erotic and even frightening and macabre.
I'm terribly old fashioned but I'd take a night at the Ballet over a night at the pub any day.

Le huitieme

I'm falling in love with my arrondissement and my little nest.
It's a world of contrasts.... it's the chicest address of Paris and my neighbour is the maid of an Iranian Princess.

The streets are very wide but are often very empty...

Chez moi.
On on the very top floor after six flights of stairs.

Signs of Summer

After a long and at times arduous separation, on Sunday night Summer and I were reunited.
The rooftop was a suitably romantic setting for the occasion.



We weren't alone, but shared it with left-overs from Rose, and some divine gentleman just returned from a Sunday drive to the banlieus.


Andreas was looking more colourful, and particularly enjoyed the caramel tart.