As we all know, the Rijksmuseum is undergoing a major uplift/facelift/asbestoslift and has been forever (like Dulles airport it seems to be eternal). But that's to our benefit, because we can see treasures like these at the Pinacotheque (for which there is no line outside but heavy crowds inside).
In any case, it's dazzling and not only the Rembrandts and Vermeer but van Ruysdael, Ter Borch, etc.
Another 3 Wows! Open til February 7th.
Samuel von Brukenthal established this collection of Flemish masters in Sibiu, Romania, in Transylvania, which Colette and I had been some miles from a while back and never knew about. So we tried to go last month and the line was horrendous. Today, it was a bit better but I'm glad I put up with the crowds inside and out nonetheless.
I shouldn't rate things, but I did think the Bruegels were spectacular, the Memlings wonderful and the Van Eycks still fine. But the whole show is eye candy, despite as I say the crowds.
Go? 3 Wows! If you can before January 11th, do, but go, at off times, say at 4:30 PM (it closes at 6).
Well, I'd seen several TV shows or segments of shows about the plans of a dozen great architects/etc., (Sir Richard Rogers, Jean Nouvel) about what Paris of the future should look like and I felt I should see the actual thing at la Cité de l’architecture & du patrimoine in the Palais de Chaillot (Trocadero). The project was commissioned by "the" President of the Republic (but as opposed to everything else now going on in France, we cannot blame him for either the suggestions or presentation.)
Well, I found the high boxes of video stuff totally awful and the presentations therein confusing and really not inspiring about the future. If you compare this display to the way the Pavillon de l'Arsenal or the Pompidou presents architecture you realize that curators do make a difference.
On the Wow Scale: a minus. Mercifully it closes in three weeks.
I've been aching to go the the James Ensor show; I missed it in NYC and tried twice here already but the lines were daunting. So I was resigned to go after it closed and satisfy myself with the catalog. But I gave it one last try today and there was zero line at 2 PM (at least the Group W line) and I waltzed in.
The interesting thing for me was that all the photographic publicity has been about the scary, skulls/masks/etc stuff not about his classical impressionist start in 1880-1884. Surprising to me as well was how poorly he drafted/drew; usually I find artists' drawings to be much better done than their paintings, even with someone like Renoir.
By 1889 (unexplained on the signs) his stuff gets a little nuts and is more like what we or I thought he was his "style." OK. Still interesting.
Having gotten into the Museum after three tries, I thought I'd better see show #2 on Art Nouveau, even though I assumed (of course, wrongly) that I'd seen it all before at the Moma/NY in 1959 or Moma/Paris in 1960. Well, no, I hadn't, like the Tiffany, there was stuff I'd never seen and whether posters or drawings or furniture, I thought it was terrific and the curator, Philippe Thiébaut, deserves a round of applause.
I rant about over-curated shows, I hate to be lectured and told what I'm seeing; here, as the lawyers say - res ipsa locator - it speaks for itself. I've never smiled or seen folks smile as much since the Claes Oldenburg show a decade ago.
Fun, solid fun.
Go? Yes - to both - if you can before February 4th.
When pain is inevitable, just go ahead and face it. OK, no way to sugar-coat this. I'd read the reviews and knew I'd hate this show of Renoir's most treacly stuff - his late period - but I felt it was my duty and obligation.
One starts out confronted with his statement made near the end of his life, mind you, that "I am beginning to learn how to paint." Actually no, by 1913 he'd forgotten how to paint and was doing insipid girls and nudes and such like. He learned to paint putting designs on fine china in a porcelain factory where you cannot screw up and some of his early drawings show what dazzling talent he had at this stage.
There are some photos at the entry showing salons where smart folks (such as Gertrude Stein and the Cone sisters) bought some early works which are good and uncoated with goo. He again came to his senses in about 1910 with a series of portraits which are quite good but I guess the market was for the early 20th century equivalent of Walter Keane's wide-eyed waifs, so it was back to the treacle.
Near the end I was caught up short by some drawings that were again executed beautifully and thought, "John, you're going to have to swallow your preconceptions," but they were by Picasso and others.
Go? On the Wow Scale, this is a real downer, I missed the Gault-Millau press conference for this?
Disclosure: Unless otherwise stated, all art exhibitions in Paris are free to the author using his press pass.
Well, you knew I had to do it. Having wasted two afternoons at FIAC 1 and 2, I had to be sure I wasn't missing the next artistic version of Roman Polanski (speaking of which, it's nice to see that pedophilia, rape and forced drugging have no statute of limitations.)
OK, I enter the Tuileries; the above thing seems harmless enough. I wouldn't buy it, I mean, where would I put it? In my courtyard where the nasties could climb in 3rd floor windows. Nope.
That's kinda kicky and there are several of them, Ugo Rindinone (SW-NYC) did around the round-point.
And then, there's this etherial water-toweresque structure. OK. Not bad.
So I think I understand this one by Jim Dine (disclosure: I own a very minor work of his): it's Flaubert's parrot on top an Andrew Warhola heart - right ?- which means that Julian Barnes is on top ...... oh forget about it.
OK almost last thing before the exit:
A place to sit, thank the Lord or at least the Lord High Chamberlain, this cannot be sculpture? But it is.
And finally a bunch of discs on sticks in the water where children should be sailing their Nintendo-controlled super-boats. Spoilers!
Alright, since my next career is in art criticism, and no respectable art critic ever rates an art show with numbers or stars, (because there are no jobs if he/she gets fired, except standing all day at the Louvre or Met as a guard), I, who get the moral equivalent of the SMIC already, will sum up my three days at FIAC.
0.002 Wows. Pretty damn pathetic. Who is to fault? The artists? No, I see good contemporary stuff all the time. The sponsors? Probably culpable for insisting on cutting-edge, ergo, nonsensical stuff. The curator(s)? Fully. (Was Frederic Mitterand perhaps involved? We know his taste. Sorry, that deserves a red card, so I'm outa here.)
FIAC is in three parts this year; yesterday I did the Big Palace, today the Louvre and tmrw the Tuileries. Why do I torture myself? Well, because I might learn something, get some new ideas, feel inspired; the usual excuses. Not!
There weren't even any great looking women there, just awful imitations of other peoples' art. Yesterday I made fun of the Whitney-Biennale-esque cardboard boxes on the floor, well today it was wood chunks - really -
Oh my, I am a Philistine. And I'm realizing slowly, a proud one. OK......
Sucker that I am, I predicted I'd hate FIAC-II so I had a back-up, go to Artcurial, which I always enjoy, for the presale exhibition of photos from the collection of Florence and Daniel Guerlain (ring a bell?) I got the idea from a booklet I picked up at FIAC-I yesterday that had a photo of Catherine Deneuve (1966) and it and she were beautiful. So must be good eh? OK, you look at this stuff and tell me.
Now disclosure, I purposefully took this pix with the two "sculptures" super-imposed because it reflected my feelings, you'll remember them existing in the right brain when life is going OK, but here............
The FIAC (Foire Internationale d'Art Contemporain) bills itself as one of the biggest (210 galeries showing 4200 artists) "contemporary" art shows in the world. And it is big, so big that I dread going every year. However, the spectacular setting and black-clad, long-legged, beautiful young women are irresistible and draw me back.
But as I was taught in school, "contemporary" art is now, not 1921, which is "modern" art, and the extravaganza is peppered with Leger, De Sainte Phalle, Brancusi and Calder and even a photo of Josephine Baker in full frontal glory. Truth be told though, without them it would be pretty boring, except for a painting of a one-breast showing, multi-cigarette smoking, nun by Bettina Rheims.
On the Champs is another tradition, the two-tented Art Elysees, whose purpose I've never fathomed since its showings are indistinguishable from FIAC's and are as equally undistinguished.
And please, haven't we tired of Gilbert & George and cardboard boxes stacked on the floor?
Go? No "wows" here.
Totally unexpecting it, I left lunch near the Places des Victoires and headed to the #1 Subway via the Gardens of the Palais Royale. Suddenly I realized the usual plywood surrounding the site was different. On the North side of the passage between the two sites was a wall of historical explanations and photos of architecture from Roman forward.
Now granted the South side had a panel on the renovation of Daniel Buren columns, which apparently like the Lincoln Center pool have been a problem sibce their inception.
And then one had the usual look-see at what was happening to that side:
But that panel on the North side was a great idea, all construction sites take note.
The Petit Palais has two shows this week that are/were of little interest to me.
The first are the works of Fernand Pelez (1848-1913) who seemed to like poor slobs, clowns, adolescent boys with pronounced genitals and women with covered genitals.
The second show of photos of horses in Qatar, above ground and below water, was of horses in Qatar.
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