Ingenue has been having a break from everything to do with keeping a blog.
Now life has returned, and it is a little fuller and there is a little more light now there are many things to be focused on! will start by letting you know that a cooking book for kids is in the works and currently there is a knitted/crochet Honours to achieve.
Stay tuned because i promise there will be many more insights about many more things, everything food, everything art, everything odd.
Igenue was wondering a while back about the metro and how it works in a big big city like Paris.
How does it work in the space of a sociological context. What is it about having to rush to stand still? Moreover theres the concept; everyone ignores, and eventually at somepoint unawares that they are avoiding people who are the very same physically unavoidable.
Go to www.dailyserving.com/2010/05/pablo-zuleta-zahr-event-horizon, on the dailyserving website an article by Allison Gibson talks about the currently exhibited work of Chilien born artist Pablo Zuleta Zahr
In the capital of London, England what could one possibly do for a weekend besides The Houses of Parliment, Buck Palace and Piccadilly circus? Maybe try the independent Arts festival No soul for Sale, 14th-16th may 2010 at Londons answer to Paris’ Centre Pompidou, The Tate Modern.
This weekend igenue spent a small but hugely profound amount of time at the Tates one weekend only festival for Indepdendent Arts collectives. In association with 70 collectives; not-for-profit artist co-operatives, residency programs and Artists, the Turbine hall showed a survey of contemporary international Independents from Creative initiatives.
Through performances, video media, installation, interactive arts, and new medias as well as more traditional print and sculptural forms, the vast and heighty space was transformed by a grid of red tape. The tape segmented the floor into a series of tight little squares, in which each of the presenting initiatives was housed. This means of exhibiting to the public through non-tangable barriers created an intruiging flow throughout their works.
Cneai = a French collective, one of which igenue found to be most intriguing, off to the far left and against the northern wall, is based maybe 9 kilometers outside of Paris, and is a centre which works with artists and publications. They provide support to artists for them to create objects, or artists books. The concept of which works with the publication of the book as media, not just as its function presents traditional knowledge in a container. Rather to be in itself an object as information, a sculpture?
Among other endevours Cneai= helps foster work which is inspired by text and literary connections, and has been working on a publication called “Old News”, which takes old articles, anylized by artists represented and commented on as a means of appropriation or comentary. Particulary anyone interested in further seeing the depths of peoples interpretation of the media.
One of the artists currently in residence at Cneai= is a Melbourne based collective, A constructed world, currently exhibiting Cneai but whose work can be seen at http://www.roslynoxley9.com.au/artists/283/A_Constructed_World/1112/
The brilliance behind the accumulation of indepdents on the one site at the Tate Modern, was that so many people could access with ease, these collectives which throughout the world have been making significant contributions to the Arts. For more information on the specific peoples who were invovled, go to the Tate website, or the following few listed.
list-o-links;
www.tate.org.uk
http://www.nosoulforsale.com/2010
www.cneai.com / www.collection-fmra.org
This was the unpleasently, and maybe even too honest title of a play which igenue recently saw.
The bottoms, or lows of life, was played at a small theatre in Montmartre called the Manufacture des Abbesses. As usual, an interesting experience, in French, anguish and confusion meet with characters who played their parts openly in the humurous cess pools of life.
That is to say the actors played their parts well, so well as to show with comic relief the often sad and true ways that life gives out situtations that you struggle to get hold of.
Several scenarios, were played by no more than simply three actors. The main and most memorable of which was the shorter of the two male actors. As an old dame, perched heigh in the heights of her Parisian apartment he calls the police. Not made entirely obvious the phone call begins with a rendition of small chit-chat. “The family is well, the children is well, and health…you know at my age…”, until it begins, the screeching whine trying to decipher last names of foreigners. From within her pocket the old Madame takes a list, on it written is a list of “offenders”, people who through the logic of a lonely person are illegal in France and need to be removed.
However ill-fated this tale sounds, it was infact hilarious to see how exactly the execution of the scene was carried out. WIth a look at the reality of Parisian living the skit moved you to think about the scenarios, if not experienced personally, of those poor people at the bequest of other less contented Parisian residents.
The following scenes, and the precdeding were not all together of the same theme, some more personal and some more abstracted but all equally as moving and liberating. When seeing others carry out scenes of what reality sometimes beholds.
The dessous de la vie is playing for a short period longer, and more information can be found on the webiste www.manufacturedesabbesses.com
Today igenue went for a walk, and along the road found a Parisian insitute for good chocolate.
Open all week, except perhaps sundays as the French tradition goes, the store 38 years in the making, is run by a little pig tailed woman who loves chocolate. Before sounding too kitsch and potentially cleche, as if it were difficult to find such a place in Paris? The store is actually world renowned for its collection of chocolate, which most notably comes from within France and regions boardering other European countries reputed for their chocolate skills i.e. switzerland and Germany.
The lady whos name is Denise, had absoloutly no difficulty and an extatic pleasure in introducing igenue to her world. The world of mirabelle (a small yellow, and sweet fruit originating from the Loire, France) liquered chocolates with a marbled coating and crunchy carmel base. Only a bite sized morsel perfect for every instance. In this case dispodance, which was ultimatly cured with an additional small square block of chocolate Atlantique sable croquant et caramel tendre a la fleur de sel (caramel fondant, encased in dark black venezuelan 66% cocoa chocolate, with a crisp crunchy salted caramel base).
As igenue learned the man who makes this tiny little block at 6 euros is 27 years of age, Franck Kestener and comes from a long long line of chocolatier expertise. Grandfathers and Grandfathers fathers. The home base of which is on the boardering region of the Loire valley, between France and Germany. The region is also well known for their wines and Beers, and as usual culinary specilaties which arrive to present themselves as a blend of German “stoge” and French delicacy.
The shop for anyone interested, has an abundance of information and reference documented on the web.
Just off Rue de Douai. Paris 75009.
Over the past few weeks, with the help of a friend igenue has been developing the keen sense “of Eat”.
In Paris there is a never ending supply of places to test your gastronomic capabilities, and there is few if any incidents where igenue has suffered a disappointing encounter; The odd chicken kebab however tasty and moreishly appetizing presented itself only a few days ago, unfortunantly showing the truely diverse world of food in the city of Paris.
Start by, Exit at metro stop Sèvres Babylone line 12. Walking in the direction of St. Germain- des-Pres, onto rue du Four and right onto rue de Princesse there is Location of Bistrot d’Henri. A quientessentially french menu offers a selection of french dishes written only in the French language, and offering only coffee, water, and alchol as a before and after appreitif accompagniment.
There is no hot chocolate, nor is there any tea as igenue was informed at first encounter, there is simply coffee and alchol “ Its like this” the man assured, in truely classic French bistrots.
The restaurant, plays its part by offering several French dishes, which are avalible in almost all bistrots and Bars in Paris. However the quality and enjoyment that you experience at Bistro d’Henri is something particular, and apart the rest. For example their entree Rillets de canard, which translates as shredded duck in fat, however unappealing a title it is, similar to fois gras and works well with toasted grain bread.
For the main plate they offer gratin dauphinois as an accompanyment, except when choising the Salmon grilled and served with a creamy white sauce. Too heavy, and not a correct ensemble igenue was further informed by a French diner. The gratin does work well with Henri’s duck breast, sauteed in honey and berries, or with the 7 hour slow roasted lamb shank, no problems making your mouth water espically when it comes to the table served in a single pot surround by its aromatic sauce. Incredibly aromatic and lushcious.
The Gratin if not already understood, is a brillant French style potato bake. It might sound fancy with the use of nutmeg and lavish lashings of cream, but its actually a simply made decedant treat. A mixture of cream, nutmeg to which is added garlic, milk, slivered potatos, and finally butter and cheese, usually Emmental or Cantal, shredded.
Less traditional but clever variations can be found in other cafes in Paris, such as the Caffe Jadis.
Down rue Notre-dame-de-lorette, Metro stop Saint Georges Paris 75009.
Caffe Jadis has been specific to this part of Paris, at the foot of historical Monmartre and at the top of les Grands Boulevards since 1973. The gentleman owner immigrated to France from Tunisia and has since been supplying extremely affordable French inspired, fresh living and wholesome cuisine to the surrounding residents, passers-by and regulars.
Here the daily specials menu changes not so daily, but when the chef has a good concept for a decidedly tasty new dish. The a la carte menu is honest and solid, meaning for patrons they will always be sincerly pleased with the tastes they know, once tried and tested at caffe Jadis.
One of their best ensembles for starter and main by a far would be the starter croustillon de chevre et peche and Poulet de Parmentier. Translated to crusty pocket filled with goats cheese and fresh peach, the cheese and peach is wrapped in filo pastry then baked to crisp with caramelised onions at top, and a side mini rocket salad. The main is then a French equivalent of Shepards pie. Few petite bite sized onions on a layer of puree mashed potato, creamy and full under which is a layer of wilted English spinach, at the base shredded roast chicken. French meals traditionally portioned are just so that you leave feeling contentment, however sometimes cutting a close edge to gluttony.
To not as of yet having mentioned the wines which have been drunk, all the wines, of which there is a comprehensive selection have been likewise immensly enjoyed. Incredibly well suited. The wine list at Caffe Jadis along with their a la carte menu, which does not include their daily specials can be found on their website www.caffe-jadis.com
Eating in France can be explained as nothing less than an experience. Dependant upon your particular indulgences , likes and dislikes, whatever it is you might have had in mind, it is generally possible to find what your in need of. In the particular case of ingenue the food has been somewhere between cloud nine and the perfect environment.
In Paris, there is a never-ending opportunity to see as many art exhibitions as is physically possible, and then there are some. The problem therefore does not lie within the lack of cultural material but rather in which cultural event to choose when presented with the option. In this tiny Ile de France there is too many artists, more than baguettes, more than cheese and definitively a considerable amount more than scooters!
Among the small gallery spaces of the 6th arrondissement area of St Germain-des-pres, and the immense Centre George Pompidou on the rive Droite, there can also be found Paris’ most prestigious Arts school l’Ecole Nationale Superieure des Beaux-Arts.
Down rue Bonaparte, and off Quai Malaquais l’Ecole is a formidable start if anywhere, in the heart of the rive Gauche, the southern side of the river Seine, is where the National school of Superior Fine Arts can be found. As a student ingenue finds this school to be a particular one. Conducive to the industry of the visual and contemporary Arts.
What exactly could this mean to someone wandering by, or someone wanting to study, or to anyone interested?
The establishment, can be experienced in many ways as not relaxed while in others it is motivating. Ideas some left-wing and bizarre find themselves coming to reality by any means. By giving accessibility to those who are willing to work, are pro-active, self managed and determined.
Ecole students have access to two gallery spaces in the Grand Salon. The Grand Salon is also the segment of Ecole where the library and Artist works collection, drawing collection is housed, along with studios for painting and printmedia disciplines.
Galleries droite and Gauche, literally the galleries right and left are the two spaces at the entrance to the Grand Salon which are supplied by the school to students, for the length of a day. Accessible to anyone. The concept is to give to the students a platform from which to give their works life, show their works and amongst other things give the school a place for different studios and media to mix.
There in both galleries Gauche and Droite at the beginning of last month igenue saw an exhibition. An interesting one.
Initially cold and serious, the work shown was highly conceptual. Whilst many pieces were simplistic in their regard to the formal elements of sculpture. In gallery Droite 10 students exhibited in an illuminated room. The space was unavoidably compacted with the collection of works, from sculpture to installation of a variety of media.
These 10 students decided to have their work in the light, contrasting to the gallery Gauche which was in literal darkness. This immediately split the preceptors of the viewer being drawn to what was hidden in the darkness of gallery Gauche , and as such a sense of concentration on what was in close proximity emerged.
For example one work of interest to the far corner in the blackened room, an installation piece composite of pavers, house bricks and a dilapidated window pane.
The artist is also a student of the Architecture school on the grounds of Ecole. Her arrangement of the found objects showed a comprehension of Three dimensionality, in the way the objects were grouped you could find the originality of their intent as objects when they were first fabricated. Interestingly allowing the mind to wander through possible occurring situations, using the present “building blocks”. lying on the ground the window showed a view of the floor and on the floor a pavement of hexagonal bricks, the circumference was a string of rectangle bricks , and the space occupied no more than 2×1 meter wide.
Ecole has exhibitions in both galleries every day except the weekends, and is closed as of the end of June for the Porte Ouverts (open door). Open to the public, galleries Droite and Gauche give the chance to see a definitive survey of contemporary Parisian based Artists practice, for Free!
last weekend Igenue went and discovered a place which is little known outside the world of people who love it.
Firstly, a truly old-fashioned ”mad-hatters” tea party and secondly, of which I lie, is actually incredibly well-known to people all across the world. Especially those who love the life of literature… SHAKESPEARE AND CO.
http://www.shakespeareandcompany.com/
On a particularly sunny sunday afternoon in spring, ingenue made her way through the crowds of tourists in the quarter St. Michel, and through to the other side. On the other side of St. Michel, and perfectly situated across the Seine from the “lady of Paris”, Notre Dame there you can find the book shop Shakespeare and Company.
Here ingenue entered into the maze of literary legends, from floor to ceiling, from staircase to dusty map of some far off foreign land. Up the winding staircase, further two more flights of stairs and in, and out of a camouflaged doorway, which was classically wallpaperd. Then into the apartment of one certain George.
Once in this gorgeous apartment, which was honest and clean, igneue was presented with several people. All willingly and earnestly waiting to hear what the new person in the doorway could potentially bring to this party. What might be said? What could be said? and eventually in the hope of hearing a poem. An original.
This was the Mad-hatters tea Party. If there is nothing more inspiring, nor more Anglophone in the land of croissants and baguette, it would be this setting of a 94 year olds’ living room. The founder of the Bookstore George Whitman. Igenue found a piece of coconut cake, a cup of tea (with milk) and the company of people from around the world, who were ever eager to hear what the “Captainess”, a self-proclaimed notable painter and poet, had to tell.
In perhaps her late 60′s, we made sure to follow the game and respect the rules she laid out. Like a captain of a ship decisive, direct and sincere she ordered us to show and tell, of self and experience and also of poem, where possible.
The inital concept was to go to the tea party and hear the poems of our hostess, but as it happened that sunday afternoon, it turned out to be more than three hours of discussion and education. Presenting poems, writing poems, ideas and thoughts. It was also a theatrical platform and a sound stage. One visitor recited to be or not to be from Shakespeare’s HAMLET. appropriately so. She consumed herself so feverishly in the performance that everyone felt shivers, with no choice but to feel her humbleness, equivocally her brilliance.
Among others there was a sensitive presence of experienced writers. A series of petite poems were then read. Leading at one point to our hostess rapping one of her poems. In every possible way this Hatter’s party was an incorporation of every form of different spoken word.
Sunday afternoons is the tea party which begins generally around 16 h. On every sunday, otherwise noted. Feel welcome to eat cake and talk Words.
The bookstore has been around roughly since the mid 50′s and has been the refuge of many “Tumbleweeds”, and people who come for a change and inspiration of sorts. As well as great names of literature, such as Hemingway and Beckett at few brief interludes, the store has over the years been a source for many different peoples.
Book readings are also a occurance at the store, on Monday evenings from 19h. Good to get there really early, rain, hail and or shine as there is always a lot of interest.
Last monday evening was a reading by the two translators of Simone de Beauvoir’s classic La deuxieme Sexe. Their book is the most current and revised translation, worked on for more than four years, with the participation of people from all around the globe.
This play is one that is difficult to categorise among a specific genre as it was a mixture of absurdisms and scenarios. Ultimately the viewer is left concluding that they had been invited into the mind of the creatrice and all her many millions of ponderings. In addition to that, the play took with it a series of passages from French literature: Jules Michelet, Les sorcières. Georges Didi Huberman, Mémorandum de la peste. Vincent Van Gogh, Lettres à Théo. Witold Gombrowicz, Ferdydurke. Fedor Dostoievski, Les Frères Karamazov.
There was no plot, no story line and no plausibility when trying to understand the performance. It was not so much in the vein of the surrealists, as it was more a survey of expressions and the experiences of situations living life.
Anis Gras is the small and tightly tucked away theatre in the suburbs of Paris, France. Le Lieu de L’autre, which roughly translates as The Space of the Other, is how the theatre space refers to itself. The space is reputed amongst the arts community of Paris as being particularly good for new theatre productions, seeing fresh minds and experiencing works of another kind. www.lelieudelautre.fr
Details de l’infamie, began with an introduction to 3 actors walking slowly and begrudged towards the foreground of the stage, dragging with them a table covered in props. The props of which there were many ranged from a wooden door, glass mirror, silver spoon, etc. to a few chairs and the table. Turning slightly on its front two legs, the trio tipped the table, from it slid the door neatly piled atop with the props. The door slide with an enormous thunder like sound to the floor. Retrieving the chairs the actors placed them around the oddly askew shaped table in the form of a semi-circle. The two male actors and one female actor then sat down and began with great intensity to look at the audience to intimidate them, or to persecute them for staring so admiringly at something they had no idea about? The intensity meant no-one could escape; the audience was incapable of hiding as the energy omitted by the gaze of the actors followed everyone around the room.
Ever so slightly the moment ceased with the female actor. With a slow and graceful glide she began moving towards her left, pushed by her front, her arms reached further and further until she was at a moment clasping her breast trying to hold back. In unison, the male actor to the left moved with and toward her. Slowly, the man in the centre of the stage intervened.
In silence, nothing was commented on, the gaze of intensity was broken by the fluidity of the actors dance.
Enveloped in one another, among themselves the silence broken once it became impossible to move. Onto the table and then to a stance, the actors burst into sudden laughter!
Format for the entirety of the play is best shown in this first scene. The way in which the actors go between self and audience; silence and enormous outbursts, sincerity and despondence, intrigue and isolation. There is no story line as such, but there is an exception with the continuity presented by the themes and the tone with which each of them is expressed. The audience was reminded at each interval that they are in a theatre space observing human behaviours. Continuously removed from their status as a passive spectator, the audience is reminded that they are among the same space as the actors – as well as, if not instead, they are of the same species and therefore the same experiences.
The female actor briefly displays a scenario of the “centre of attention”, the want to be and the want to have attention. Towards the end of the performance, after this display the shorter of the two men begins to run as a lunatic about the stage. He runs about screaming like a maniac “MOI MOI MOI MOI MOI MOI MOI MOI” referencing the need to be “centre of attention”. Screaming ” ME ME ME ME ME ME ME” (in translation), the man makes himself the centre of attention and as such draws the viewer away from the recent history of the play, to the present. The loudness and movement informed, shakes the audiences’ emotions to make sure of where we are.
Eventually the third of the actors, the tall bald-headed male goes right of stage to the entrance of the theatre space, the door opens to the fresh Parisian winter night’s air. There the space created by the actors is broken and forced to mix with that of the audience. Facing the audience the simple action of opening the stage door and signally the hot air to escape the space, before speaking “il fait chaud ici, oufh!” roughly translates “wow, it’s hot in here isn’t it!”. The audience becomes once again apart of the space, and the division between performance and spectators no longer exists.
As a theatre production, Détails de l’infamie presented itself as intriguing. In terms of the visual arts concept, the space resembled a performative work as well as an installation space. Layering was a common theme throughout that made the play conscious of different aspects of the space; sound, music, lights, mirrors, objects and the performers. It’s possible to imagine the stage as a gallery space exhibiting the works of several artists.
For more information about the theatre, or the play go to the website of the Anis Gras www.lelieudelautre.fr
From the outset I have thought that a photograph of someone, old clothing, a dead body, and now, a heartbeat, are all the same thing:an object evoking an absent subject. – ART PRESS, Janvier 2010
Three weeks ago ingenue visited this years MONUMENTA 2010, exhibition at the Grand Palais of the French artist Christian Boltanski’s most recent work Personnes. A work created for the Palais, Boltanski used the impressive interior with its vaulted cielings and expansive open centre to create an installation, sculptural piece which was if anything, at very least, an overwhelming experience for the senses.
This experience begins when you enter the space, with the perpetual noise making ambience created by several speakers which are located around the parameters of the site on a mezzanine level. The speakers become consuming, as they are consistently letting out a sound which vibrates through physical and mental body of the spectator as he or she walks through the environment. The sound ironically is heart stopping, while the sounds are nearer to a heart beating and the heavy breathing of someone in a state of pained wonder. This ambience generally invites an uncomfortable persona for the viewer, making their heart stop. These sounds penetrate you while you are wondering by the large and neatly arranged clots of discarded old coats and jumpers.
The jumpers and coats are arranged into groupings compartmentalised by four steel posts which along the length of the Palais assume a status of examination. From one end of the large and open space the squares of clothe, resemble a series of persons who are awaiting something, or who have since left and only their memory, their jackets, remain to give evidence. It is not until you begin to weave through the intersecting cables which connect small black speakers at head height, a top of the steel poles that you begin to feel the sense of weight or compression. You feel as with the larger speakers and the sound that permeates them, that these clothes may have a history, or they may be reminding you of the history of their owner. They offer the viewer a thought of rememberence for those who were lost, those forgotten, and those deceased. The title of the work Personnes “people” and “nobodies” furthers this idea.
This same sentiment is approached at the entrance to the exhibition, when you meet a large patined wall. The wall is more than two meters high and is made of a series of smaller boxes. Each of the boxes is numbered with a miscellaneous number which could also signify a miscellanous owner, or an object which could be found inside. A top the wall is a line of small lamps which perche themselves lightly on the edge giving the surface of these boxes and their numbers minimal illuminated vantage. The feeling of history, and reconnaissance begins with the physical divison of the boxes, before moving towards the squarly arranged section of coats and jackets which take the main rectangular interior from the site of the Grand Palais.
Through the clothes and towards the back wall at the cul-de-sac of the Palais is a towering monstrosity of a pyramid. This pyramid is again made from the same materials, the supportive interior is made from a solid frame of steel invisible to the viewer as it is covered by an excess of clothing, in a variety of different forms. From the top of the pile the clothing is plucked with a giant red claw, mechanically powered, it moves in a primitive yet decisive manner towards the top of the pile where it then chooses a portion, pulls tight and up to the cieling where it ascends a further five meters high. Once it reaches, it then retracts and the claws loosen to leave the clothing flourish in the air untill they fall again to the top of the pile. This action is repeated. As Boltanski decribes in january 2010′s ART PRESS in his interview with Richard Leydier, its is almost biblical, taking the hand from above, and taking from below crumplng without meaning to be nasty. Like the action of taking and crushing, and then discarding, droping and letting go.
The exhibtion ends the 21st Feburary 2010
For more information about the exhibtion MONUMENTA 2010 Christian Boltanski visit:
www.artpress.com
or, google Grand PalaisExhitions, Paris France
