The Art of Innocence

There has been much discussion recently on the movement of street art from its spiritual home on the walls of the city into a warmer, more comfortable home on the walls of art galleries. I previously wrote about an exhibition of street artists taking place in the 20th arrondissement, whilst Peter wrote this week about artists selling prints outside a bar in the 13th arrondissement. In the more official, organised art world, there has been an exhibition of Tags at the Grand Palais this year, private galleries are becoming specialists in the genre, and the first Street Art auction is soon to take place in Paris. Given this move towards restrictive conformity, what future is there for the genre?

I was delighted therefore to return home one evening, and discover three tiny pictures pasted on to the wall of my apartment building. Clearly created by the hands of children and placed down at their level, they were a tryptich of pure joy. They didn't last long in their temporary gallery, but shouldn't all street art be ephemeral? We can hardly talk of art in this case, but the simple pleasure of creating and sharing is a message to us all.

And on the subject of messages, here is another in my unofficial series of what Gina has helpfully labelled for me as 'drainpipe art'! She has a fantastic example on her site, whilst mine is just purely enigmatic. Who is this 'Jeune femme polonaise' and what was she proposing? The service was obviously an attractive one, as all the tear off contact details have been removed. It's just another mysterious, temporary message written on the face of the city, and one that could never be transferred to a gallery wall.

Bored on the 4th of July?

My attention has been drawn to an event taking place in Paris on Saturday the 4th of July which may be of interest to residents of the city or even people just visiting. The event is a treasure hunt that promises to take you to a hidden and secret side of the city and see “the Paris of the Parisians”. Indeed, you should even get to meet and interact with some of them! Don’t worry if you have limited French as guides and enigmas are also available in English. The event is free and desgined to be a fun way to get to know the city better, but prizes will be awarded to the most successful teams.

A website has also been created giving more details of the event and also the opportunity to win a prize beforehand. A riddle will be placed on the site, and the first person to solve it and send the correct answer will win a night in a top hotel in Paris on the night before the event (Friday 3rd of July). Good luck!

http://www.tresorsdeparis.fr/

This event has been organised by a very interesting agency called ‘Ma langue au chat’, specialists in treasure hunts and other similar events. Look out for a feature on them on Invisible Paris very soon!

Call Me Blue

"When I put a green," the painter Matisse said, "it is not grass. When I put a blue, it is not the sky".
Painters were liberated from the constraints of colours over a century ago, but Parisian architects have remained rooted to a rational consensus. Mostly this can be attributed to strict planning rules, but perhaps also to some supposed laws of good taste. It was a surprise therefore to find such a striking blue streaked building in the city, but why was it that this structure's florid ostantatiousness didn't look out of place to me?

It was perhaps the weather. On another day, with rain drizzle in my eyes, I may have walked past this building and found it unsightly, but this bright blue morning it seemed a perfect fit in its environment. Later I discover that the building was born in the same year as me. I'm a child of the 1970s, and this building had that decade written clearly on its facade too. Had I found a birth soulmate, and do I have some need for colour that stems from my polychromic childhood?

In reality the building is somewhat banal, a corner block that we might expect to find in a hospital housing nurses. It is the rarity of such a bold use of colour in Paris that is worthy of note, but is it an attractive building? All colour is risk and confrontation, and it is always easier to stay neutral. I'm glad that such pockets of colour can be found in the city, but perhaps tellingly I'm not sure whether I would want to live in this blue shell all year round.

Here it is from Google Street View - visit the building and give me your opinion!

Agrandir le plan

Red's not Dead

It used to be said that France was the largest Communist country in the Western world. Although post-war Presidents of France have almost exclusively been from right-wing parties, whole swathes of the country have long been run by communist groups, notably in coastal cities and in a red line of towns around Paris. At the height of this position of power and influence, the French Communist party (PCF) decided to build a prestigious new headquarters building, choosing the famous Brazilian modernist and party sympathiser Oscar Niemeyer as chief architect. Niemeyer, who was living in exile in France at the time, worked benevolently on the project.

The building is situated on the otherwise non-descript Place du Colonel Fabien. This place, which in reality is little more than a large roundabout, was previously known as the Place du Combat, and was named after the organized animal fights that used to take place here. It was renamed after the second world war in honour, rather aptly, of a communist militant and resistant who was killed in 1944.

The building is set back from the road, a design decision that Niemeyer took for two reasons. Firstly he wanted to hide a rather unattractive structure situated in a plot behind, and secondly for reasons of secrecy and security. It is almost impossible to see the somewhat sunken entrance from the street, and this coupled with the reflective glass windows of the façade makes it very difficult for observers to see who is entering or who is inside the building. This may seem excessive today, but this is a building that has undoubtedly been regularly under surveillance from secretive governmental organisations.

Beyond these aspects, this is in many ways a typical Niemeyer structure. Modernist in form, with its concrete body raised up on a series of pilotis, it manages to escape the block-like rigidity of other similar structures due to Niemeyer’s insistence on curves. Originally designed in 1965, the building was not fully completed and inaugurated until 1980, and it is perhaps this which has given it a slightly timeless feel. It is undoubtedly elegant from the exterior, but it is the interior which is truly worth seeing. The white dome pushing through the garden courtyard is a clue, but few would imagine the fascinating ‘space-age’ central committee auditorium that lays beneath. Visits are organised in September during the ‘journees de la patrimoine’, but only very exceptionally at other times of the year.

The interior of the Espace Niemeyer (photo taken from www.orserie.fr)

With changing political situations, the Communist party influence has waned in France, and this building has become something of a heavy weight for the party. Too expensive to run, it is nevertheless much in demand (fashion shoots, conferences etc), but how could the party profit from this without renouncing on their fundamental principles? The solution has been to rename the building the ‘Espace Niemeyer’ and to rent out two of the floors to other organisations, one of which is a company producing animation films. This is not as improbable as it sounds as there is something rather graphic and cinematographic about the whole structure. For my son, who only sees the white dome, it is the ‘Tellytubby house’, but who knows where the producers of that programme got their inspiration. Could that also be a clue as to the political sympathies of Tinky-Winky and friends?

Rough Philanthropy

Walking along the Rue Jeanne d'Arc in the 13th arrondissement it would be easy to pass by a genuine piece of social history without noticing anything exceptional. At number 45, directly opposite the quaint and attractive houses of the Villa Auguste Blanqui, stands the first social housing project built in the city, a collection of small apartments which were paid for by a man of fortune to house the unfortunate.

A plaque on the front of the building shows that it was run by an organisation called the Societé Philanthropique (who still manage the building today), and the city of Paris have helpfully put a sign in the street outside giving an outline of the story, but what is most striking about the structure is the rough brickwork of the facade. This is social housing at its most basic, clean and functional accommodation, but devoid of any decorative features that may have encouraged the poor to stay a little too long.

It was a rich banker named Michel Heine who paid for this construction through his Fondation Heine charity. He donated 600,000 Francs to the Societé Philanthropique and asked them to build a home for the 'deserving poor'. This was very much the philosophy of the Societé Philanthropique who believed (and apparently still believe) in helping the poor to help themselves, funding projects that help people get through difficult moments, to rebuild lives, or simply where the old could see out the rest of their days in dignity.

Michel Heine was an interesting man, somebody who spent many years in the USA and married into the Richelieu dynasty (he was eventually buried in the family tomb). He knew and gave financial support to Sarah Bernhardt, calling her his 'cochon doré' (golden pig!). Heine's reaction to the building he financed is not documented, but it is possible that it was severe enough to ensure that no such buildings were put up again. Later constructions managed by the Societé Philanthropique all contained decorative elements, and it is suspected that the rich benefactors who paid for them did not want to be associated with such basic, functional structures. After all, it was their names which were often featured at the entrance.

For more details on this building, see my post on Bricks in Paris.