Pigalle: the battle is lost but who won the war?
The Pigalle district of Paris is clearly changing, but is it for the better? Who are the winners and who are the losers?
The Cité Napoléon
A look inside an early experiment in social housing - and the reasons behind its failure.
Tuesday, 26 April 2011
However, could electrical glitches provide a more interesting alternative to brute force? In this corner of the subterranean system, a gremlin in the machine has transformed the messages into abstract forms and Mondrianesque coloured grids. A moment of artistic grace before the repairman resumes normal service.
Here the effect seems to be accidental, but will such electronic graffiti be possible in the future? The results would certainly be worth looking out for!
Saturday, 16 April 2011
Thursday, 14 April 2011
The original structure, the exhibition halls and skyscraping Concorde-Lafayette hotel, were designed by Guillaume Gillet, an architect who had made his name building prisons and religious structures. Whether by accident or design, its labyrinth underground passages, curving concrete walls and surrounding racetrack roads have given it a certain fortress feel.
Indeed, the first problem when approaching this structure is how to get inside. There is seemingly no clear entrance. The architect Christian de Portzamparc gave the structure a more modern twist in 1998, but his juttering façade is no more accessible than the previous layout. Stand in the little park in the roundabout opposite the building, and you will see groups of people trying to cut through tiny gaps in the incessant traffic. Few succeed, with the rest being forced to negotiate the underground passageways.
Once inside, the building is no more welcoming. It is the architecural equivilent of a set of Russian dolls. The concrete exterior hides conference halls, ampitheatres, shopping centres and cinemas. Beneath and behind these, the truly hidden – the delivery roads, back stage areas and utility zones that help the building to function.
The building sends visitors through its intestines according to very curious flows. The shopping arcade is a double ring of depressing Dantesque spirals lit only by a neon glow. The tedium of the circuit is broken by empty supermarkets and cafes that look like glass enclosures in a zoo. The exhibition halls and conference facilities are reached via an endless series of escalators. When empty, these are vast caverns that echo to a chorus of vacuum cleaners. It would be easy to get completely lost in this world.
This universe has come to resemble a rich person’s ghetto. The official website for the boutiques describes the stores as “luxe et haut de gamme”, and it is probably the only shopping centre I have ever visited that has carpets. However, there are also very few clients. Visitors - and everyone here seems to be purely a visitor - wander aimlessly, with no purpose beyond killing time before the next events or their flights home. Miniature Ferrari race cars sit outside toy shops, but no children are here to see them.
A domain of Non-Places
In 1992, French sociologist Marc Augé published ‘Non-Lieux’ (Non-Places), a book which chronicled and investigated the rise in dead spaces in modern society. The Palais de Congrès is filled with these personality-free zones that people move through but never appropriate. Some of them have seemingly been forgotten. Stairwells that lead nowhere, a disused post office counter, hidden nightclubs and long corridors that illuminate only their own emptiness. These are shapeless, temporary facilities, existing outside of the urban fabric of the city.
On giant electronic boards, the perplexing titles of professional exhibitions. The Congrès français des chirurgiens esthétiques plasticiens and the 10th World Inflammation Congress. The European toxicology conference and Euro PCR. Temporary installations bringing people from all over the world together in this anonymous shared space.
If delegates stay at the massive hotel Concorde-Lafayette they need never leave the building. A dedicated entrance leads straight to the Palais de Congrès where they'll find their conference. They can eat, drink and shop in the gallery, and even watch a show or a film. Paris will be what they find inside these walls, the view from their hotel window and the souvenirs they find here to take back home.
Sunday, 10 April 2011
I was very happy to meet many interesting people at the events, and I think the biggest part of such a day is these encounters. I'm also very happy to see that some of these participants have now chosen to write about the day on their blogs, and often to expand and develop the subjects discussed at the event.
Jill (Landscape Lover) is a landscape historian and garden designer, so it has been fascinating to read her take on the visit to the Jardin d'Agronomie Tropicale.
Lillian also noted one of the key questions that the garden poses to visitors.
Peter has, as usual, prepared a very complete post on the event, including archive pictures, before and after shots and even a snap of me in action!
If anyone else has posted text or pictures, please let me know.
I was really pleased with the installation we had created and set up at the 'Night Garden' evening event too. For those who were there - and those who weren't - Shane Lynam has now put his photos of the Jardin d'Agronomie Tropicale on his website. Shane is currently doing an MA in Documentary Photography, and the theme he is working on - the point where the city ends and the wilderness begins - found an echo in this garden.
The sound recordings Des Coulam made at the jardin, which were played throughout the evening event, were edited down to a manageable length, but are difficult to share online. He has though put together a great post with sound extracts from the jardin and from the evening event on his website. We also plan to create an online version of the installation soon!
Thanks then to everyone who came and supported the events, and to those who helped them get off the ground, particularly Shane and Des, and Forest and Kim for the evening event (as well of course to Emporer Norton for the food and to Helen for running the bar). Special thanks also to the sun for shining so brightly!
Saturday, 2 April 2011
In 1842, the Prince Ferdinand-Philippe d'Orleans was killed in an accident near this spot, falling from his carriage after his horses had bolted. It was decided that a chapel should be built on the exact place of his death, a shop called the Epicerie Cordier where he was taken immediately following the accident. The chapel in the shape of a Greek cross, originally known as the Chapelle Saint Ferdinand, was built on this plot, but it's not clear what happened to the shopkeeper and his store!
However, although the chapel we see today is the original building, it has now moved around 100 metres from the position in which it was initially situated. When work began on the large-scale developments in this area in the 1960s - the motorway, the underground passageways, the Palais de Congrès, it was found to be particularly poorly situated. With the French Royal family having limited importance, its move a little to the North met with almost no opposition.
This building in the shape of a cross therefore still marks a spot, but not the one it was originally designed for!