New Blog Post!

Well, there are several events to recount, so I don't have to search hard for material.

With my return to the States fast approaching, the thought of sitting in my room in Paris for another three weeks was nauseating. With the lightest load of work for final exams, it seemed there was just enough to do in Paris to keep me bound to the ancient 750 grid. What a horror, thinking of all the places in Western Europe I would be unable to travel to from the far side of the Atlantic! 

And so, with little regard to my academic schedule, which I remind you, is quite light, I whipped together travel plans for three days and two nights of traveling in the lands North of Paris. Once again, I had caught scent of the northern, germanic winds. 

Still, I was timid, not willing to make any substantial leap in that direction. Taking small steps, I went from Paris to Lille, the capital of the Nord Pas de Calais region, not far from Dunkerque, where the British Expeditionary Forces took flight across the channel in the spring of 1940.

Like the American South, the North of France has a special reputation - namely for the homeliness of its people and the cold, windy North and the effect it takes on the people mentally. Close to the Walloon region of Belgium, the language takes a different tone. There is a Walloon language unique unto itself - never have I heard such gibberish! I wanted out almost as soon as I arrived! Then I had a delicious crêpe (chèvre and honey served with a delicate salad), and the uneasy feeling passed.

I took the 7:26 a.m. train to Brussels the next morning. My second visit to the city after a day-trip there with my father in the fall of 2007, I was destined to repeat a day-trip-length visit. I was excited to see the city in full bloom, but was rather disappointed as I walked around the city, poorly planned compared to other, more compact European capitals. Yes, the bruxellois architecture is nice, a blend of new and old. The new dominates the old in the Beglian city; it's a young nation, even compared to the United States. The sprawling Parc du Cinquantenaire was constructed in 1880 to celebrate independence from the Dutch in 1830. The French don't have a monopoly or patent on revolution.

The highlights of my day in Brussels were a visit to the Museum of Fine Arts, a delicious fresh-squeezed orange and lemon juice drink, a waffle I bought from a guy in a truck, seeing the European Commission buildings, and viewing the Parc du Cinquantenaire with its magnificent arcade. The latter was stunning, a view that would have bowled me over had I not been so exhausted. I was disappointed to learn that the René Magritte Museum is not yet open! I took a picture of the entryway.

Holy Belgian waffle!

With no hotel or hostel booking in Brussels, I decided to catch the train to the Hague a day early that same afternoon. In the train station Bruxelles-Midi, I took this picture:

This foldable-style (term may be incorrect; I'm going from a direct translation from French) bicycle type seems to be catching on in France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. In London, however, the trend is fixed-gear bicycles. Stars such as Chloe Sevigny opt for the foldable-style:

It all goes to show the practicality and comprehensiveness of public transportation in these countries, with the Netherlands at the forefront. Travel by train is energy efficient and comfortable. I might as well tell you that one plus one equals two. Subway lines create a web of connectivity, and are sufficient for commuting to work. Trams, buses, and suburban subway lines enhance this web, connecting neighborhoods and suburban districts. Travel on foot remains a significant part of daily activity, but in fact, makes for less hassle. Image - a life free from parking, navigating poorly marked areas, highway on ramps and exit ramps, not to mention a more palatable atmosphere. 

Compare to : American rail system

It's important we remind ourselves from time to time of our own imprint on the planet. In some major metropolitan areas in the US, cars account for 70% of total carbon dioxide emissions. Eisenhower built America the greatest roadway system known to man, but he did so after we had already built the most expansive rail network. Thereafter, our cities were designed with the automobile in mind, which is to say they were built in a manner that is unfriendly to pedestrians. Bicycles do not solve the problem, but they help. As for the fate of the US, large scale legislation got us into this, and it will be large scale legislation that gets us out of it. 

I can't help but to imagine an America free from the big three and the bailout packages they've been given. Imagine if that money were invested in developing a better, faster, more affordable American train system? All this imagining caused me to momentarily forget that ours is a realist nation, no longer the land of dreams. 

Back to Europe!

I wandered Rotterdam for a couple of hours in search of Hostel ROOM Rotterdam. The Netherlands is the first country I have ever traveled to without any speaking ability in the native language, family vacation to France in 1998 excluded. German is closely related to the Dutch language, and while I can make sense of the language in written form, the spoken form is entirely different! Check out this website, there are several recordings available that can give you a better idea of what I'm talking about. 

The hostel was great - the staff was nice and beautiful, and I had an entire room to myself - no repeat of the smelly Scottish trio with poor eating habits experience in Berlin. One of the two tall, blond, Dutch girls on the evening shift invited the guests to the rooftop to view a light show commemorating the Nazi bombing of Rotterdam in May of 1940. This gave us a chance to discuss current political and social world affairs. Nations represented were AMERICA, Canada, Australia, the Netherlands, and France. Afterwards, I enjoyed a beer with said Dutch girl, who has similar taste in music, and is therefore good. In conclusion, for every bad experience staying in hostels, there is a good one to cloud out the bad one!

The next day I had a nice (buffet!) breakfast with the Canadians. Then, exercising great caution to avoid being struck by a big, Dutch bicycle, I went the Rotterdam Kunsthal and Boijmans museums. The Kunsthal is a temporary exhibition space. I paid €4.50 to see Japanese Kimonos and Prix de Rome architectural, painted, and sculpted works. Check this out:

The Boijmans Museum collection was, simply put, extraordinary.

Adriaen Brouwer (1605, Oudenaarde - 1638, Antwerp)

I hustled back to the Centraal Station to catch a train bound for The Hague. I went directly to the Maritshuis, the Museum in possession of Vermeer's The Girl with the Pearl Earring. It was nice! I stayed until close, and had very little time before my train to Paris to explore the city. What else does one do in the city that is home to Vermeer's greatest work? 

The next day I went to Givery, West of Paris, with the Americans to see Claude Monet's home and gardens. Have you been to the Orangerie, where his large format paintings of water lilies? They were realized here.

It was more a tourist traffic jam than it was an educational visit. This woman has impressionist art printed on her clothing!

For me, the day in Giverny was a last chance to see some of the friends I've made this year, as well as to eat a really big, four-course meal. I hadn't eaten so well in weeks! 

If you're interested in seeing more of my photos from my trip, check them out here on my Flickr page. 

NYTimes article of interest

So I'm studying the French Revolution. When one studies Modern (post 1500) European History, the topic of la révolution almost always surfaces. That's right, France. We'll never stop talking about you in the modern world.

The French Revolution is, I agree, one of the finest examples of change in the modern world. But one thing we can learn from it is that change is gradual and often slow. President Obama put it best last month while fielding questions from Turkish students in Istanbul. "States are like big tankers, they're not like speedboats. You can't just whip them around and go in a new direction. Instead, you've got to slowly move it and then eventually you end up in a very different place." Yes, Napoleon's ten year reign was glorious, but where were the French back in 1830? Revolution, chaos. 1848? The same thing. The Bastille was stormed in 1789, but didn't burn until 1830. Life in France during that period was - difficult, unpleasant. 

It is very French, everything mentioned in this article. Michael Johnson's perspective on the matter is a rare one, and not even for a minute do I envy his responsibilities. He really lays in on the French. Towards the end, I found myself wondering, "Can he do that?" Good thing the French don't read the New York Times, let alone their own newspapers.

Here's a link to the article. It isn't long, but I've copied the highlights below.

I gained some insight into workers’ attitudes when I moved from London to Paris to manage part of a French publishing company a few years ago. This was not a workplace I recognized.

The standoff between French labor and management is accepted as normal, hardened through decades of mutual suspicion. The two parties tend to consider their interests to be mutually exclusive. 

I was surprised how often my staff spoke of “revolution,” seemingly nostalgic for their 1789 upheaval when the guillotine cleared the way for change. Even today, television pundits and trade union leaders talk earnestly of revolution brewing. Hyperbole? Probably, but indicative of the cultural conditioning.

In France, workers expect their companies to balance financial performance with the care and protection of their employees. If the company fails, the state is there to provide.

Here's where Johnson really digs in.

Despite the forces of globalization, the French worker does indeed give less than a 100 percent to the job. Individuality and personal life are prized above all, and friendships tend to be outside the workplace. This makes team-building difficult for the manager but allows the worker a richer outside existence.

Studies show that in the United States excessive devotion to work serves to limit one’s family life, cultural pursuits and personal development. Americans work longer hours, adding up to about two months more per year than the French.

This article confirms several suppositions I have been mulling over these past few weeks. I have little patience for French prudence in their professional and personal lives. It is still a very classist society, and in a nation that has experienced a great deal of immigration in the past fifty years, it's native French have become snobbish and racist. Thanks to this article, I can now say that these things date back to the First Empire, Second Empire and the Third Republic: the height of France's power. 

The 20th century has not been kind to France, that much is certain. The Third, Fourth and Fifth Republics are responsible for a great number of domestic and international follies, begging the question: is France deserving of the title of world power? These are the Dreyfus Affair, the military imprudence in the Great War of 1914, colonization in Southeast Asia, World War Two, Vichy France, and the French-Algerian War. The empirical state of mind was slow to leave the French. John F. Kennedy once wrote, "We must make [democracy] work right now. Any system of government will work when everything is going well. It is the system that functions in the pinches that survives." 

I don't know if I'll live to see the end to French snobbism, though I long to see that day come. Yes, their current system has its flaws, but they are not what has caused the global economic recession. Just because theirs is a socialist political system doesn't mean it should thrown out in response to these thin times. France didn't start feeling the economic crisis until late last year, nearly a year after personnel cuts began in the US. 

This may be due to the French economy, which bears little significance globally. One third of France works for France. Americans work longer hours, adding up to about two months more per year than the French. 

A woman in Paris once said to me, "I'd like to send my daughter to the US, but Americans play far too many sports." Perhaps she was also afraid her daughter might break a sweat, or worse, might think too hard.

enjoy these mp3 snacks with your coffee!

Dirty Projectors - Stillness Is the Move

Siouxsie and the Banshees - Hong Kong Garden

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Heads Will Roll

Been Listening to Music

It's been a good week - I've had the chance to attend several concerts since I last posted. Also, Easter vacation finally ended and I went back to school - joy! I'm auditing a class for lack of work to do. After a whole semester without it, now I can really say that I miss the Sorbonne. It's odd to say that weeks before my return to the States. I leave at the end of May. 

Last Monday I saw Frida Hyvönen at the Théâtre Marigny on the Champs-Elysées. As you can see, it's a magnificent venue, though I may not be accustomed to remaining seated for the duration of a concert. Frida is Swedish, and plays a sort of cabaret set with two other Swedish females, one on percussion and the other on bass guitar and cello. Their set was charming, opening with two of my Frida favorites, Birds and Enemy Within, more charming than it was strong.

The trio emanated a bird-like femininity, at one moment harmonizing in tones reminiscent of twittering sparrows. Their costumes, full body spandex jumpers with golden polyester decorations, contributed to their muse-like stage presence.

 

Though her lyrics may lack in poetics, the bizarre course and patterns of her melodies take hold of the listener, a kind of innocent seduction. She is two parts charmer, one part musician - but she's really charming, so let that speak to her talents as a musician. The songs are not moving, rather, they are alluring. It was a great performance. 

Songs from Silence Is Wild

Birds

Enemy Within

Pony

Hyvönen was followed by Clare and the Reasons, a five-person band out of New York playing songs I recognized, but did not know. Clare and her band were great, but I believe that none of their songs ever passed 100bpm. It all had a very hypnotic effect, and I'm embarrassed to admit I nodded off once or twice during their set! Can you blame me? I was seated, for goodness' sake! Clare's voice was more classically beautiful than the act preceding her, and her charisma would have made for great chemistry in a less formal venue setting.

Clare spoke some French, no doubt thanks to the French violin player. One of their songs was titled, Perdu à Paris, or "Lost in Paris". The American accent doesn't really do much for me, but I'm told it's nice. I would describe their performance as nice.

Then I saw a brief show just off the rue Oberkampf (not to be missed when visiting Paris) at a bar called Antirouille Café. Ultradig is a nifty Parisian/French Canadian trio with electronic, rock and folk influences. Left of YéYé, on their myspace page, is really good. The friend of a friend was acquainted with one the band-members. 

Last Thursday I saw the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at Le Bataclan on the Boulevard Voltaire in Paris' eleventh arrondissement. I had no ticket for the show, but for the second time this year, the scalpers roving the entrance came to my rescue. Actually, I never laid a hand on a ticket; instead, I paid a guy the rough equivalent of the price of a ticket to escort me directly to the VIP entrance (sneak me in through a fire exit, where his friend, working security at the venue, was waiting). I would have preferred that the money go to the band and the venue, as this is currently my sole means of supporting the music industry. In any case, I got in and saw a good rock show.

The YYYs have been around for quite some time (consult their wikipedia page for more on their history). WRNR, my preferred local, grass-roots radio station has successfully followed their rise to rock greatness. Another five years and they'll be ready for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (go C-town!). For those of you who aren't familiar with them, here is what you need to know about the band:

Yeah Yeah Yeahs = Karen O

And conversely,

Karen O = Yeah Yeah Yeahs

I was there for Karen O, not her band. The band may as well have not been present. No drummer, keyboard-playing bass-man, or guitar player could have been less exciting. 

I have read a good deal about the Karen O performance - mostly that she dominates the stage and the spotlight, as if doing so were unfair or selfish. 

When she took the stage and as the Parisians let forth a resounding oui, it all became clear. Karen O's performance was remarkable. Her composure surprised me. She was sober, her stage tricks were rehearsed to the letter, and she was beaming. Her voice always reminded me of a rubber band, and this rubber band voice is one of the best in contemporary rock and roll. Yes, it lacks in versatility, and performs more like a two-cylinder engine, being limited to roaring and off. 

Her physical performance, like I said earlier, was spectacular. The few rock and roll stage conventions she calls on are for fun - the costumes, the costume change, the sexy dance moves and poses. The fist-pump, however, became the fist-pump jump, more girly than riotous. The show was, in fact, family friendly, which still baffles me.

Such fun made for a quick show - one and a quarter hours passed by quickly. Unfortunately, the encore numbers, including Maps, were emotionless. Maps has become another Wonderwall, Creep, Clocks, or Mr. Jones. Their live rendition of Zero, the single from their their new album It's Blitz, was also missing something.

Nonetheless, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are at their best, with Karen O as the proof. Though her strength on stage is dominating, all the attention is rightfully merited. She is a modern wonder in rock music, and we can only hope she and her band will continue to blaze the way for modern rock and rocker-kids.

Look back a few posts - a link to the Zero mp3 is in here somewhere.  

This is not related:

I just stumbled upon this live clip of St. Vincent, one of the best new artists to arrive in 2009. Pitchfork Media's Susannah Young recently reviewed one of the best tracks on her album Actor (2009), titled Actor out of Work. The mp3 may be found at the end of this post. Her midwestern heritage means you've got to love her, and this live rendition of Marry Me is simply inspiring. It's a shame she had to play with the Polyphonic Spree, the most Mormon of bands to be aired on MTV. She's currently on tour and will be stopping in Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, New York, and some town in Massachusetts. 

Here are some other mp3s - very good ones, as always!

Lead Belly - Goodnight Irene

Dusty Springfield - Twenty-Four Hours from Tulsa

St. Vincent - Actor Out of Work

Fever Ray - Coconut

The Streets - Trust Me

Midlake - We Gathered in Spring

Shugo Tokumaru - Rum Hee

As this post demonstrates, a minimal amount of schoolwork awaits me these coming weeks. However, my forgotten work ethic will make success a less-easily achieved objective. Time to listen to some Ronald Reagan speeches. 

Please excuse any grammatical errors! 

For Laughing

Here's a funny image a friend sent me just a few days ago. I thought it would compliment this blog's theme nicely.

The Vandame's really enjoyed this one. I don't think they knew how, eh, tall Carla is.

Slacker Blogger

Sorry folks!

I can't even claim membership to the Slacker generation.

Well, since my last post, I visited AMERICA - and I visited everyone and everything! Sorry, didn't take my camera with me. I'll make a sandwich of the trip.

- Flew back to Dulles through Montreal.

- Reunition (this is a new word) with ma, pa, granny, and auntie.

- Reunition with the apostles. 

- New laptop battery. €0.00.

- Visits to American doctors - √

- Coffees at the Hard Bean in downtown Annapolis. They now have a liquor license.

- Road trip North to see 1/2 my sisters. Stops in Boston, Providence, and New York.

- Beheld the Washington Monument and the Capital Building.

- Visited the National Gallery of Art, the Smithsonian Castle for the NMAAH architectural bids exhibition, and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. 

- Requested Yeah Yeah Yeahs new single 'Zero' twice in the same day on WRNR

- Ate many bagels and drank a lot of coffee

Ok that was longer than planned. Here are some photos from my recent bicycle excursion to Chartres to see the cathedral - and test out my new wheels.

Summer is still up in the air.

MP3s

to be played at high volume

Hermes Zopoula - Alpha et Omega

The Streets - Trust Me

La Roux - Fascination

Peter Bjorn & John - I'm Losing My Mind

Chubby Parker - In Kansas

three Devo tracks in honor of cycling

Devo - Speed Racer

Devo - Working in a Coalmine

Devo - Big Mess

I'll Never Let Go

It's officially spring in Paris - many cafés have opened or completely removed their exterior windows, affording their patrons a better view for springtime people watching. The high-collared coats are coming off and the femmes are loosening their scarves and showing more skin bit by bit. Rays of sunlight are piercing through grey clouds, and Parisians are laying out and tanning, as they should. 

I've stumbled across new, good music, which always makes life sweeter. In the past few weeks I've been to a couple of good concerts, too. The first was a Peter Bjorn & John concert at Nouveau Casino on rue Oberkampf, one of my absolute favorite nighttime haunts. They played material from their new album Living Thing, a fresh new route for the Swedish pop band, which may not please listeners the same way Writer's Block did in 2006. They're still the same Peter Bjorn & John of old, only with sharper, less conventional rhythms that could prove more difficult for the general public. For the band that made whistling cool again (remember Young Folks) and owes much of it's fan base to television ads, this is encouraging. PB&J are not another hollow, pretty-faced pop band. On the contrary, they are musicians of a rare European lineage with a multi-lingual, multi-cultural musical style. I only hope more bands in the main-stream would take such bold actions. Is the world not in the throes of massive reinvention? Can't the arts take part in the same? 

Peter Bjorn & John - Lay It Down

Peter Bjorn & John - Just the Past

This past weekend a friend invited at the last minute to a jazz concert in the restless, young 20th arrondissement. Though I greatly enjoy it, jazz always makes me suspicious. Anyways, it was a great show, not at all what I was expecting - so maybe I have the right to be suspicious in the future. The Fly is a fascinating franco-american duo with equally diverse instrumentation. American Sly Johnson beatboxes and sings with power and conviction, while frenchman Eric Truffaz played trumpet. Both implemented heavily a technique called 'phasing' or 'music looping', where music is either recorded live or pre-recorded and played among other musical elements or tracks, allowing just a few musicians to create a larger sound. The trumpet player used what I believe is called an 'elbow', which is essentially a sustain pedal for a wind instrument. The drummer's accompaniment was perfect, and the two frontmen allowed him several moments to show his stuff, moments that proved key in the concert. I can't really review their performance as I toe the line of my qualifications as an amateur 'musicophile', or whatever the term is. 

On the art front, the Galerie Polaris made an appearance at the Paris Salon du Dessin Contemporain, an annual art fair for contemporary drawing in the European art capital. We sold a few works. Linked is an article that appeared in La Libération last week. I learned quite a lot and had a great time people-watching from our booth. Artists, collectors, gallery personnel and art enthusiasts came out in force. 

Also, I spent a night in London visiting my friend Rania from Kenyon. This was my first time in anglophone territory in more than six months! What a radical experience it was, hearing English spoken everywhere. Here's a picture for proof. More can be found on my Flickr page. 

Me n Winnie!

AND NOW - MP3s. 

Asobi Seksu - Thursday (Acoustic)

Karen Dalton - Something On Your Mind

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Zero

Röyksopp - Miss It So Much (feat. Lykke Li)

Woody Guthrie - Dust Can't Kill Me

CSS - Knife (Grizzly Bear Cover)

ENjoy. See? I told you this blog doesn't suck, I mean, stink.

For your ears

Hey Guys!

Just thinking about you all, figured it might be nice to send you a little something that might enrich your day. Put these on your iPod classics, nanos, or shuffles and enjoy.

Gudrun Gut - Rock Bottom Riser

St. Vincent - Now. Now.

Amy Winehouse - Some Unholy War

Jorge Ben - Take It Easy Brother Charlie

Del Shannon - Runaway

Today - art history followed by the theater!

Quick Post

Greetings!

Sorry for letting the blog stagnate. There will soon be a Berlin, etc. post. In the meanwhile, I have here a few things to distract you from whatever it is you ought to be doing. 

So funny!

SO COOL.

I've recently joined flickr.com because I have become frustrated with the Blogger photo uploadrer. I hope that sharing photos will be easier this way and that it will be more convenient to access the photos remotely (for those of you who are sick of reading my writing).

Follow the link to my Flickr page.

Please contact me via comment or email if you encounter any problems accessing the page. Enjoy!

Struck Out

I am sad to report the indefinite closing of Paris IV and its history department. Much of the faculty and staff have abandoned their posts in protest of unfair compensation and a number of other complaints. The History center at Clignancourt remained open longer than the other Paris Universities, but finally closed its doors this past Tuesday. 

Such events are not uncommon in the French University system, or any other nationally syndicated organization for that matter. Public transit workers strike, schoolteachers strike, immigrant 'sans-papiers' workers strike, and factory workers strike. I remember the 2008 Tour de France, when protesting auto-plant workers threatened to block the 100 plus cyclists and international race. Fortunately, the president of the race arrived on the scene and dispersed the strikers before they could sabotage the race, promising them on-air time to broadcast their grumbling.

I find such behavior selfish and ignorant, a great fault of the modern republic's political functioning. Most of the time, the strikes accomplish nothing, especially now with a self-absorbed president whose chief concern is his international reputation. France's stunted economic growth reflects this behavior appropriately, and in my opinion, we can soon expect the arrival of the economic crisis and it's devastating effects on a people ill-equipped for such an upset. Has the European Union really been a worthwhile venture for France, one it's influential founders? In the storm of the financial crisis, France has found itself thrown overboard, bound to weak nations unable to stay afloat. Would the French have a better chance of swimming to shore without the burden of the poorer EU nations? 

I had better stop here before I lose my visa or get deported. We must try to look at these striking professors in a positive light. In a bureaucratic government such as theirs, striking is the individual's means of expressing their dissatisfaction with their current circumstances. Civil servants should not be subject to sudden changes in pay and work hours. However, when nearly one third of all jobs are considered as public administration offices, such changes are to be expected. Students and working classes dependent on public transit should not suffer the repercussions. 

My study abroad program foresaw all of this and warned us to take every precaution enrolling in courses at our universities. Several American Universities in Paris have joined forces to create classes for international students in the event of a lockout from the French universities. I was enrolled in one course, a yearlong course in the French institutions of the Ancien Régime in the 18th century. My professor, a young man impassioned by his work and the foolishness and imprudence of the French monarchy, has openly discussed the strike with us. When he brought his pay sheets (rough translation) to class, it became clear that he is concerned less with the figures of his salary than with his research and instruction. Yesterday at 8 a.m. standing before the locked doors of the Clignancourt center, he proposed we do the lesson in the garden or a nearby café, but we were soon informed that this would violate the university's insurance (someone might have scalded themselves with a hot cup of tea!). 

Several of my French friends' responses were surprising. The strike was a reason to go on vacation early (after just two classes in the 2009 semester). The strike has clearly added a new dimension to my frustrations with the French university system. I myself am no longer convinced by my cover as an 'international student'. I would take spy work if it were offered to me (are the NSA and CIA recruiting?), it would give me the chance to learn a thing or two! Maybe I should find a way to turn this joke into a reality. 

All I can say is thank goodness for my internship at the Polaris art gallery! I'm interested in the work I do there, which engages my writing and language abilities. I have also sealed a few letters with the saliva off my tongue, which serves me well. 

The clients and collectors are a real laugh! Some of them are nuts, just the battiest characters imaginable, while others are real thinkers and dreamers. The other day an interesting-looking fellow came into the gallery and began to work with other assistant. I made him an espresso. From what I observed, I deduced he was one of the artists. Some time later he came into the office I share with my boss, seating himself at a computer. We struck up a conversation - he wanted to talk about America's West, the raw North American countryside, a pleasant change from discussion of American cities. We exchanged thoughts and experiences; it was a rich conversation, his insights attesting to his artistic conviction in dreaming. He finished his business and departed. 

I asked my boss which artist he was; we have two who share the same first name, and I assumed this fellow to be one them. He wasn't an artist, he was the computer guy. Draw your own conclusions.

Here's some music I've been listening to lately. Follow the links to download.

Fever Ray (the girl from The Knife) - When I Grow Up

~ visit the artist's website and watch the music video~

Peter Bjorn and John - Lay It Down

Rainbow Arabia - Holiday In the Congo

The Ronettes - Be My Baby

~ r.i.p. Estelle Bennett ~

Fred Hewett - The Prickle Holly-Bush

Jeremy Jay - Beautiful Rebel

Earlier this week I saw the film Mister Lonely with the Cinéma Club. Legendary German director Werner Herzog stole the show in his role as a missionary who was a healer, alcoholic, and pilot all at once. Here's the trailer. 

The film succeeds in creating a cinematic experience much like a dream. The film is rooted in reality with opening panoramas in Paris at summer's end and two main characters posing as two of the 20th century's greatest stars, Marilyn Monroe and Michael Jackson. Soon after, references to places with names like, "The Highlands" and equally ambiguous dialogue effectively sever those roots, and the dream begins. 

What follows is a departure to an artful fantasy land, a paradise for outcasts who share a passion for the impersonation of Western legends. My favorite was Abraham Lincoln. In this far-out setting, among these free spirited eccentrics, the main character's drama unfolds. The director proceeds by painting a happy picture of the commune, the home of which is a classic French château in a stunning natural setting, seemingly remote from society while simultaneously supporting a small population of townsfolk. The characters are wonderful, some of them causing my friends to double over with laughter. The commune is embarked on a theatrical venture, wishing to put on the best talent show of all time.

All is not happy at the commune, we soon learn. Beneath the costumes and makeup are a troupe of unhappy and confused individuals facing a heap of shortcomings and baggage. The commune's herd of black sheep, a fitting metaphor for such a group, come to a cataclysmic demise. 

The foreseeable fall of the Marilyn Monroe character causes Michael to return to society, where he renounces the label of impersonator, and embarks on the uncertain odyssey of self discovery. 

The film is clever yet lovably simple. It does not discourage us from dreaming and imagination, rather, it concedes to that life is a complex and grandiose puzzle eclipsing the individual. Many of us are helpless in the quest to find out who we are. In the eyes of the director, Harmony Korine, the human condition is the struggle to find a place in the world. To contest this fact is to deny the plight which is life.

Please pause and visit this link.

Even earlier this week I went to a special art exhibition at the Paris Treasury. American photographer David LaChapelle's works are super controversial and intentionally so. The friend who invited me introduced him to me as an artist fascinated with excess in all forms. His photographs are beautifully realized, many of them featuring prominent celebrities in compromising positions and poses. Superficiality plagues our society, and for an artist known to have associated with the likes of Warhol during one of America's most decadent eras, this is no epiphany. 

LaChapelle, however, has reached the known limits of excess in his recent works displayed here in Paris. He has arrived at the finisterre of the two dimensional world of photography, blending all too familiar sources of greed, gluttony, and heresy. The large format works, incredible photographs realized in ornately decorated sets, are printed on shaped cardboard. These sick, cheaply printed works are absurd and disrespectful to the extent that they become beautiful. He facilitates this recognition with strong references to art history, religion, and images we see on the 8 o'clock news. 

I grant that his photographs are beautiful, but my concern is that the young public will not recognize them as a warning. Many of his photographs reference the second coming or the apocalypse, but these powerful notions are misconstrued. The colors, celebrity subjects and props turn his works into comedies, making them sellable and negating any clever artistic device.

 

LaChapelle is no craftsman of subtlety; you'll see no gentleness in his works. Another insurmountable characteristic of his work is its commerciality, which comes as no surprise given his résumé. 

Through his work and behavior as a budding celebrity, LaChapelle does not deserve the respect due to artists of the past century. He represents a new breed of well educated and even better connected artist-celebrities whose work is better suited for VH1 than any museum. The artist's canvas is representative of his own involvement in the excesses in stardom and false ideas of beauty in the 21st century, fatally hypocritical for an artist. He is too aware of it to ever escape from it.

Please excuse any spelling, grammar, or syntax errors. I blame France.

This will be my last post before departing for Berlin. I'll be there the 23-26th to take advantage of my vacation and GET OUT OF FRANCE!!! 

Tune in next week for pictures. Bis dann!

Catch Up

I feel like a dummy for missing this one, but it cannot go unmentioned, be it nearly a week late and having very little to do with me or France. 

Tuesday, February 3rd of this year marked 50 years since the death of Buddy Holly, one of the greatest American musicians of the 20th century. He died in a plane crash at 22 years of age on February 3, 1959. 

If you're interested in reading more, read the recent Locust St. post on the topic. 

Follow the link to download

Buddy Holly - Peggy Sue

Buddy Holly - Maybe Baby

Giving the people what they want

Hey Everybody,

Welcome to February! It's shocking to find myself this far into 2009, though January was a wonderful month. I began this new month with a fever and a cold, bringing my demigod complex to a sad end. I'm not quite better yet, but I can see the light on the horizon. 

At the end of January we had our first official day of RATP strikes, or, la grève, as the French call it. There were several metro lines that just stopped running, though I noticed no difference in the lines I use. As I understand it, this was fairly mild compared to previous strikes extending for weeks at a time. The grève hasn't got me worried. I'm superbly located in the city, and in respect to my classes, I have very little trouble riding my bike to the various sites and universities.

What has stirred up some concern is the threatening university strike, where professors at certain Paris universities are not attending their own classes due to 'unfair' compensation and other disputes. My Parisian friends assure me that the Paris IV History University is one of the most conservative  branches of the Sorbonne, and that they are the least likely to strike, but I've heard many other conflicting opinions. My history classes resume next week, so I'll report back then.   

In other news, some friends and I have launched a cinema club, appropriately named, Ciné-club. The club operates under the same principles as a book club, only with movies. Last night we saw a film called Hunger about IRA hungerstriker Bobby Sands. It was solemn, but very powerful. If you've got a strong stomach and are interested in the history of the IRA, I recommend the film. Here's a trailer.  

And now, a few mp3s to fatten your iPods. Follow the link to download.

The Bug - Skeng (feat. Killa P - Flowdan)

 Dick Haymes & Helen Forrest - Button Up Your Overcoat

Anna Järvinen - Götgatan

Asobi Seksu - Familiar Light

And please - comment or email me if you have any trouble downloading these!

I'm the most French of all the Americans.

It's so true! I got back from the Cévennes Tuesday evening. Of all the places in the world you could possibly go home to, Paris is surely one of the best. It's strangely welcoming. 

Last night I was back on the town on the left bank to bid a friend farewell, and was having a troublesome time finding my way. Over the course of an hour, I asked several strangers for directions, pleading with them, "I'm sorry, I'm from the right bank and I have no knowledge of the 6th arrondissement." With the right kind of smile, most Parisians will lend a helping hand. I finally arrived at my destination. 

I recall one afternoon when two female metro officials asked a cluster of young men and women, myself included, to help carry a wheelchair-bound man up a flight of stairs to exit the station. Three of us automatically stepped forward, took hold of the old man's chair, and carried his old bones up the stairs. It was but a small effort; he was very light. Still, it was a unique moment, taking part in an unrewarded good deed.

Anyways, les Cévennes were wonderful. We spent five and a half days relaxing, eating, walking, and exploring in the beautiful surroundings. In the company of these French friends, there is no uneasy language barrier to bar our relationships. In the calm of the countryside, we got to know one another without the additional stresses of school, the city, or our personal schedules. We were all at ease in a large house in a beautiful place with a full refrigerator, a decent stereo (what a luxury!), and absolutely nothing to do all day but talk, cook, dance, and stroll. I have many special memories from this extended weekend. Here are some photos. 

More photos to come, I'm needed at the moment!

CIAO

Friends,

I wanted to be sure to post before departing for the weekend. Thursday morning I board a TGV train bound for Nîmes, an ancient city in Southern France. It's a beautiful city full of Roman ruins. I and several friends from the Clignancourt history university will be staying at a friend's vacation home. I believe there will be eight of us in total. 

I return late Tuesday evening in time to attend my first class of the semester the following morning. I've been on vacation for more than a month! It's about time to get back to the books, don't you think?

This is not intended to be a debaucherous weekend! Those poor, French souls have been slaving away in preparation for their final exams, from which we international students were exempted. I suspect the themes of the furlough will be rest, revitalization, and romping in the woods. I'll be taking charge of the last one, as I've got a head start on the first two. As for educational activity, we will be learning le rock, a partner dance that reminds me of post-liberation and roaring fifties France. Then there will be cookie baking, where I am expected to blow away the competition, as the American. Wish me luck.  

Am I wrong in saying that? That this dance is kind of dated??

This photo is to attest the smog suffered by non-smokers at French house parties. I have more photos, but wouldn't post them without permission. Anyways, you get the idea!

mp3s! 

follow the links to download

Harlem - South of France

Beck - Mexico

Honey Is Cool - Nach Heart

Thanks for tuning in!

Life's Not So Hard

The typical work day in an art gallery is not severe. Though for some reason my alarm clock (cell phone) went off an hour late, I still had no problem fitting in the leisurely morning I've grown accustomed to, the French term for which translating to 'fat morning'. Arriving at the gallery at 13h30, I was quickly put to work in the reserve stock room preparing large format photographs for a potential buyer, the cultural director of the city of Rennes. This did involve me windex-ing each work, which struck me as somewhat menial, but as the day progressed, I realized that such a task is fundamental this type of work. My boss was as or more physically involved in the labor as I was. I like to think that this calibrated the two of us, or more simply, that we bonded over our labor. 

What I really want to say is that immediately after closing the gallery (at 19h00), I was able to just stroll into the adjacent arrondissement and catch a fantastic concert. Ah, the Parisian lifestyle! I saw Animal Collective, a fairly well known New York art/noise group, at le Bataclan. I didn't even have a ticket, I was just lucky enough to bump into a nice guy willing to sell me his friend's ticket for the advertised price. I might have bought a ticket before they were sold out, had any of the friends I asked expressed interest. No matter, everything worked out, and I'm so glad for having gone, albeit alone. 

While I wouldn't have called myself a great Animal Collective fan before the show, I knew that the type of people associating themselves with the band would be closer to my type. Simply from the address of the concert hall, I knew in advance the type of audience to expect. It was French-hipster heaven! To set the record straight, I'm not a hipster. I don't own a single pair of neon-accented high-top Nike's. I'll just tell you what I saw: A lot of beards, a lot of thick-rimmed (at times non-prescription) glasses, a lot of hoodies (no doubt American Apparel), a lot of smokers, lots of beer, a lot of bad haircuts, and a whole lot of lingering irony and sarcasm. I really ought to make some hipster friends here so I can compare them to my hipster friends in America. 

As I don't listen to Animal Collective save for the rare occasion, I was lucky to find myself in a slight resurgence of interest. There upcoming album has been well received, as it has already leaked on the internet, and the bloggers are, as usual, expressing how they feel about it, and the DJs are remixing it (quite likely at this very moment). Their set was good, perhaps a little more than an hour of trance to noise to nonsense music. As I write this several hours after the fact, my ears are still ringing from the venue's acoustics. And I'm glad! I have missd Kenyon, where you can open your door and play your music as loudly as you choose. Tonight's mild deafness will probably make up for an entire semester missed blasting my music at Kenyon. The encore number was familiar. Take a look. 

   Here's the same song in mp3 format.

Animal Collective - My Girls

My American Side

When I first arrived in France, one of my chief concerns was fitting in, as you can imagine. It was time to be French, not American! My friends and I would speak in hushed voices on the metro, some of us not speaking English at all, if we could help it.

Well, it's different now. I am quite in touch with my American impulses and act on them as often as I can. This means drinking (real) coffee in Starbucks, reading American literature, American soirées with American friends, limiting the cholesterol in my diet, and doing manly things. I make very little effort to dress like the French, and have in fact come to despise certain French trends! I try not to be too harsh, though. 

I miss America, it's true. Perhaps this is one reason for my mild bitterness. These things considered, I still have a great time. It is a mild winter that facilitates, rather than prohibits, activity. Living in the magnificent city of Paris makes having fun easy. All the same, my friends and I eagerly await Spring. 

In the meanwhile, my command of the French language is better than ever. This Friday I begin an internship at an art gallery in the 3e arrondissement, la galerie Polaris. This is fantastic news to me, as I'm pushing four consecutive weeks of vacation now, not including my German class. I attended an opening this weekend and was shocked, even a bit repulsed, by the artist's work. Nonetheless, I think the experience will be marvelous. More news to come.

On the sports front, I think I may need to cancel my plan to run in the Paris marathon. After some debilitating pain in my knee experienced at the end of November, I was led to take the entire month of December to rest and recover. I ran yesterday for the first time since then, and though the run was quite nice, I experienced the same pain in my knee later that evening. Besides, there will be many more marathons to run in the future. Who wants to train in the winter, anyway? 

  And now, mp3s! Follow the link to download, and please, let me know if you encounter any problems. 

Johnny Western - Cowpoke

Eddie Vedder - Hard Sun

Bertrand Burgalat - Spring Isn't Fair

M83 - Kim & Jessie

Crystal Castles - Crimewave