Cesar's Thumb

A thumb. It's a gigantic bronze sculpture by Cesar located in La Defense, Paris. It's about 10 metres high. It was one of the very first remarkable things I saw when I moved to Paris in 2003. At the time I had a negative reaction to this work of art. Now I love it.

Why was my first view negative? I think it was because I saw it too much in the context of the buildings around it. The very high sky-scrapers (gratte-ciel) that dominate La Defense. It seemed to me that the thumb was only made enormous because the sky-scrapers were enormous. I saw the enormous bland buildings and then I saw the enormous bland thumb and it seemed like a bad joke to me. Somehow the negative feeling I had about the buildings played off directly onto the thumb.

And the thumb is surely enormous only because the buildings are enormous. A question of appropriate scale, of the thumb sculpture not being dwarfed by its surroundings. But it's also a question of opportunity: opportunity for Cesar; opportunity for us.

Imagine this thumb now being lifted onto the back of an articulated lorry and going off on a tour of France. Imagine that thumb popping up on the top of an Alp. On the beach in St Tropez. Standing next to a lighthouse on some wild coast of Brittany. Then it would prove its scale, its appropriateness to every situation.

It could take its place among the menhirs of Carnac. It could spend an afternoon blocking traffic on the motorway during a bank holiday weekend. It could give a mighty thumbs up to the grape harvest in Champagne.

And everywhere it went, people would look at their own thumbs. They would hold them up and move them further from or closer to their faces until their own thumbs were the same size as Cesar's thumb. And that distance between the thumb and their face would depend upon how far they were from Cesar's thumb.

Cesar's thumb would return to Paris heroic. The ultimate measure of scale, known everywhere. It would return to its place at the foot of the giant buildings and people would crowd around it, closer and closer, their own thumbs held up, closer and closer until the buildings were blotted out not only by Cesar's giant thumb, but also by their own thumbs. Then they could once more know who they were.

Happy New Year: La Vie en Rose

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens,
Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche,
Voilà le portrait sans retouche
De l'homme auquel j'appartiens…
Quand il me prends dans ses bras,
Qu’Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose;
Il me dit des mots d'amour,
Des mots de tous les jours,
Et ça me fait quelque chose.
Il est entré dans mon coeur,
Une part de bonheur,
et je connais la cause,
C'est toi pour moi,
Moi par toi dans la vie;
Il me l’a dit, l'a juré, pour la vie;
Et, dès que je t'aperçois,
Alors je sens en moi
Mon coeur qui bat.
Des nuits d'amour à plus finir,
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place,
Les ennuis, les chagrins s'effacent…
Heureux, heureux à en mourir!
Quand il m’a prends dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas
Je vois la vie en rose
Il me dit des mots d'amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose.
Il est entré dans mon coeur,
Une part de bonheur,
et je connais la cause.
C'est toi pour moi, moi pour toi dans la vie
Il m’a la dit, l'a juré, pour la vie.
Et, dès que je t'aperçois
Alors je sens en moi
Mon coeur qui bat.


French version by Edith Piaf


Hold me close and hold me fast,
The magic spell you cast,
This is La Vie en Rose.

When you kiss me, Heaven sighs,
And though I close my eyes,
I see La Vie en Rose.

When you press me to your heart,
I'm in a world apart,
A world where roses bloom;

And when you speak, angels sing from above;
Everyday words seem to turn into love songs.

Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La Vie en Rose.


English version by Mack David

Marc Riviere

 

Browsing for poetry in the bookshop area of the Marché Dauphine at Saint Ouen today, I chanced upon a small shop which was just being opened up by its owner. He rolled up the metal shutters, then stepped inside and placed a record on a small portable player in the corner, a track by the Doors. Unlike most of the shops I had visited, this shop was dauntingly empty, selling an ecletic mixture of art, books and records. As I hung back outside, the owner gestured me to enter and look around, which I did.

His stock was an interesting mix that included a dadaist text written by Francis Picabia and small books detailing Antonin Artaud's experimentation with peyote in Mexico. Didn't Henri Michaux write a book along similar lines? I asked. Yes, said the bookseller, but he had a doctor on hand in case of problems.

There was also a book by Maurice Lemaître from the 1950s which had a record inside. The owner of the shop offered to play it on his small record player. When he had done so, a sonorous voice issued forth into the glass and iron arcade of the market: overstressed words something like the sound poetry of Kurt Schwitters, a voice repeating words that rhymed: Arnaque, Lac...

Maurice Lemaître was a member of the Lettrist movement in the 1950s, a movement that remains very little known to the English-speaking world, mainly because the works remain almost totally untranslated. The lettrist's idea of poetry was that it should be "purely formal, devoid of all semantic content". Which I take to mean it should be rather difficult to understand as language, more like a kind of music.

As I left the shop I noticed a black and white poster of a woman in a café holding two tea cups over her eyes like goggles. Her shirt was pulled open to reveal her breasts which, in some way, seemed to stand in for her eyes. I rather liked this cheeky photograph and I asked if I could buy a copy. The man smiled: that's my work he said. I am Marc Riviere.

Marc produced a book of his black and white photographs called "Up and Down" with publisher Ipso Facto in 1999. He would approach girls on the streets of Paris and ask them if he could photograph their breasts. He was surprisingly successful, gathering enough candid photographs to fill a book. The results are rather charming, full of a lively intimacy and humanity of a kind which is often absent from nude photography. You can see a number of photographs from the book here.

Failed by Design

I rather enjoyed George Szirtes little rant here in which he requests that interior designers kindly redecorate the walls with... themselves.

He mentions Le Corbusier as a kind of father figure of this sect of clean living, faddish types, an architect of whom I have some experience, having visited the Villa Savoye, a house he designed in the Paris suburb of Poissy.

George is quite right in noting a sanatorium sterility to such places, as you can gather for yourself if you look at the photographs here. It is quite easy to imagine the owners starting off the day with a good long enema followed by a cold shower and a bowl of prunes...

The house has not the slightest human element but is adored by spiders who find corners to build their webs everywhere. It must drive the curators mad.

The 25th Poetry Market, Paris

A couple of major poetry events take place in Paris at the end of June.

The first is the 25th Marché de la Poésie which runs from 21-24th June with a large number of peripheral events either side of this event. The market takes place at place Saint Sulpice, Paris 6e.

The plan of the marché (which can be downloaded from the web site as part of a pdf document "Marché des Lettres No. 7") shows over 100 stalls featuring different poetry publishers. The invited country this year is Portugal so there will be events in the evening featuring Portugese musicians and poets. The evening of Thursday 21st will probably be particularly good since it is the 'Fete de la Musique' in Paris.

Alongside this event is the 30th Festival franco-anglais de poésie with events running from the 14th-24th June 2007, some of them occurring in association with the 25th Marché de la Poésie, either in cafés nearby or on the associated stall. This festival features an international group of poets in bilingual presentation.

Belle et Sebastien

10 French Films

Ivy has tagged me (and about fifty other people!) for my 10 favourite movies. I am not prepared to divulge my ten all time favourite movies, but I will tell you my ten favourite French films. They are:

Zazie Dans Le Metro: the story of a cute but foul-mouthed little girl (see above) who has a wild weekend in Paris ending in all-out war. It is one of Philippe Noiret's earliest films, the actor who later became well known for playing the poet Pablo Neruda in 'Il Postino'. Noiret plays the girl's uncle. It is characteristic of the film's humour that his job (the French say 'boulot') is Spanish dancer in a cabaret: an unlikely role left entirely to the viewer's imagination. Directed by Louis Malle and released in 1960. The film is based on a book of the same name by Raymond Queneau who specialised, page by page, in trying out every literary style under the sun. Zazie tries to do the same thing, but in the context of cinematic style.

Jules et Jim: Circa 1900, two young artists fall in love with the same girl played by Jeanne Moreau. Emotional chaos ensues. Directed by François Truffaut and released in 1962.

Cyrano de Bergerac: Housewives-favourite Gerard Depardieu plays long-nosed Cyrano de Bergerac, whispering up at windows in the dark to win the heart of the beautiful Roxane. The film was directed by Jean-Paul Rappeneau who co-wrote Zazie dans le Metro and was released in 1990. Makes an interesting comparison with Steve Martin's enjoyable modern-day version simply called 'Roxanne' and released three years earlier.

Pauline à la Plage: I've seen quite a lot of films directed by Eric Rohmer, but this is the one that sticks in my memory. No famous actors and if you like Bruce Willis films, you definitely shouldn't bother with this one. I have recently ordered a copy of Rohmer's film called 'Clare's Knee' which is a film about a man who wants to touch a girl's knee. It is supposed to be very good.

La Grande Vadrouille: A seriously funny film about some British aviators who bail out over occupied Paris during the second world war. They are rescued and smuggled into the unoccupied zone by some reticent French men played by Louis de Funes and Bourvil. It also features the British actor Terry Thomas sporting a regulation British airforce moustache. The film was directed by Gérard Oury and released in 1966. According to Wikipedia this is the most successful French film of all time with more than 17 million viewers. It ought to be well known on British TV screens as well, but as far as I know it isn't.

Les Apprentis: a story of friendship through difficult times for Antoine and Fred. Gerard Depardieu's son Guillaume won a César for his role. Directed by Pierre Salvadori and released in 1995. A year later, Guillaume had a motorcycle accident that cost him a leg.

Nikita: This is perhaps more suited to Bruce Willis fans: Nikita, a young druggie, shoots a policeman. She stands trial and is sentenced but escapes prison and death by agreeing to become a highly-trained assassin for the French government (who else?) The breakthrough film for director Luc Besson, released in 1990.

Milou en Mai: Another film by the great director Louis Malle, a farce depicting the impact of 1968's revolutionary fervour on preparations for a funeral in a French village. The film is very atmospheric with a good soundtrack featuring the jazz violinist Stéphane Grappelli. Released in 1990.

Romuald et Juliette: The story of Romuald, the P.D.G. (Le président-directeur général) of a business company, who falls in love with his matronly office cleaning lady who happens to be black. She refuses to return his love because of their difference in social status and he has to work hard to overcome the obstacles. Directed by Coline Serreau and released in 1989. Romuald is played by the excellent Daniel Auteil, one of the major actors on French screens over the past thirty years. In 1987, he won a Cesar for his role as a simple but cunning French peasant in Jean de Florette, also a rather good film.

Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain: Well, everyone knows this one I guess. Known simply as 'Amelie' in British cinemas it was directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet and released in 2001. The film stars young, innocent and a bit strange Audrey Tautou as a girl who has undoubtedly never danced around a handbag in a nightclub (the French say 'boite de nuit'). She prefers to spend her time rigging up devices to electrocute nasty greengrocers.

Well, that's your lot. And I'm tagging: Lesley, Lucy and Anno Domini simply hoping they'll have some good recommendations for the next ten French films to watch.