Last night was Paris' annual Nuit Blanche (White Night). Like I mentioned in my last post, Nuit Blanche is an all night celebration of art, culture, music, and performance. Churches, Métro stations, gardens, museums, and parks all throughout the city hosted events from sunset to sunrise. Boy, was it interesting...
After enjoying a home-made dinner of crêpes with my host sister, Nolwenn, and two of her friends, I made my choice about where to spend the evening. Based on timing, proximity to my family's apartment, and Caroline's preferences, I decided to go to the Centre Georges Pompidou (the inside-out building, remember?). The Center would be keeping the doors to its modern art gallery open all night long. This is where things got interesting. I arrived at the center quite a bit before Caroline was to join me, so I decided not to step into the huge line for the art gallery just yet. Starting to wander around, I came across a strange, almost airstream-like trailer with a bright neon sign on top reading, "Chambre(s) d'Hôtel" [Hotel Room(s)]. Nothing was really going on around it, so I didn't think much of it and continued on. But this unassuming little trailer will make another appearance in this post...
I then found my way to Église St. Merry, a church right next door to the Centre Pompidou. The church had been decked out for Nuit Blanche with lofty works of art, eery lighting, and various performers. When I first walked in, a dance group was just finishing up. I have to admit, it was a bit strange seeing hip hop dance in a centuries-old church. Up next, an awesome poet/actor/dancer(?) stepped into the spotlight. I'm not sure what to call what he did, but it might be similar to a French version of slam poetry. Anyway, he concluded his set with this soul-shaking quote:
-- "Moi, je suis Henri Marche. Et vous -- vous aussi -- Vous êtes Henri Marche..."
-- "Me, I'm Henri Marche. And you -- you as well -- You are Henri Marche..."
How true, how true... After this revelation, I did some more wandering. As fate would have it, I found myself back at the trailer. This time, I was in for a treat. Whatever company that was responsible for the presence of the trailer had begun their show for the evening. A large window on the side of the trailer that had once been obscured by a white curtain now revealed 2 women and a man inside, moving and dancing about with blank expressions on their faces. This, ladies and gentlemen, was my first experience with "performance art." From what I gathered from the abstract acting and trance-like music, the piece was about some sort of prostitution ring, or maybe domestic violence witnessed by a hotel cleaning lady, or maybe murder as a result of a love triangle? Maybe? It's hard to say. All I really learned was that the French might be nuts. Here's a short clip of the performance. I'll let you decide what it's about:
1 comment:
Ok, the "hotel room" trailer story didn't end up like I first thought it would, so that was a relief. Miss you bunches. xo
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