Francois Morellet, ‘Réinstallations’ at Centre Pompidou

Réinstallations is the Pompidou’s latest exhibition in a series dedicated to important figures in the world of contemporary art. Starting off as an abstract painter in the 1950s, and then moving on to the more scientific Neo-Plasticism of Mondrian, Morellet came to installations in the early 60s. Always inspired by and in constant dialogue with their direct environment, being anything from a tree to the banks of the Seine, the idea of exhibiting 26 of these installations in the white cubed walls of the Pompidou’s Gallery 2 initially seems a little counter-intuitive. However, perhaps largely due to Morellet’s own creative input in it, the exhibition succeeds in not only maintaining the original vibrancy of the works, but also in giving them an additional breathe of life; As a new environment and context, they now work with and within each other, adding another element of dialogue to these complex living spaces.
The works on display do have one strong common thread; the idea of the neutrality of lines and rigid shapes and how this neutrality can generate the idea of repetitiveness and infinity – the underlying notion being that one simple single line could go on forever, never meeting it’s parallel. A very common minimalist idea. But in Réinstallations this idea of linear endless continuity is hugely re-interpreted, to the point where its total antithesis is revealed; lines and seemingly fixed structures transform into a forceful representation of impermanence. Our idea of lines is re-created and re-placed into a new context, much like the installations themselves – as such, the exhibition lives up to its “re” prefix.
“Reflections in water distorted by the spectator” consists of a grid of neon lights displayed on the ceiling above a square of water, so that they are reflected within it. The spectator is invited to pull a leaver so that the water moves, thus causing the seemingly rigid reflection to bend out of shape, the ripples turning lines into curves and the light blurring distinctions and boundaries. The permanence of the neon grid is, within seconds, totally destroyed. Lines no longer represent an immovable, endless force as they turn instead into a powerful image of changeability, movement and impermanence.
The interactive nature of many of the installations puts this change from rigidity to flexibility into the hands of the spectator. The piece “Red” consists of the word ROUGE illuminated in white and red light; but whilst the spectator presses a button to further illuminate the piece, the colours change and the letters disappear and reappear according to how long ones eyes are focused on the image. Watch for thirty seconds and only red and white colours are visible. Watch for three minutes (with as few blinks as possible) and the ROUGE turns into green, then blue then disappears altogether. Our will, our decision, changes what we see and how we see it. Even Art, represented in an image of the Mona Lisa, can be altered. By pressing a button, a gust of wind is blown onto a fabric recreation of the painting. The infamous face is distorted, much like the ripples of the water, and we are forced to doubt our knowledge of even the most well-established piece of Art, which turns out also to be just as changeable as our volatile eyes.
Playing with the elements of light, wind and water,Morellet’s installations expose that everything is changeable, nothing is infinite. And the brilliance of having them all in one place as opposed to their usual solitary existence is that the spectator continues throughout the exhibition to be relentlessly faced with this notion. So much so, in fact, that even our very own bodies begin to reflect it. We turn into an extension of the art: variable, impermanent and in a self-inflicted state of fragility. Having played too much with the interactive lights, I walked out of the exhibition feeling giddily stunned and dizzy, with eyes that were seeing colours in the clouds and light where there was none.
 
Réinstallations is on at the Pompidou Centre Paris until July 4^th 2011
http://www.centrepompidou.fr/

These boots are made for walking

Where are you?

Paris in the rain…

Listening to this whilst walking home in Parisian rain. Pretty voice, lovely video and the singer has awesome tattoos…

A few first impressions of Paris life

1)THE FRENCH STARE – there is no shame in staring intently at someone for the duration of a 20 minute metro journey. Stare-wars are common. Clearly, only polite Brits shyly look away when caught out.

2)THE FRENCH CLOTHES – unbelievably irritating effortless dressing, for which you have to be skinny, flatchested and own nothing but black and grey and cigarettes. I am seriously having to rethink my wardrobe choices; I think the yellow tutu might have to go.

3) THE FRENCH DOG POO – third time in three days that I’ve heard that horrible squelching noise and looked down to a very smelly shoe. I love dogs, especially dressed up Parisian ones (I saw one wearing a fur-lined hoodie today) but come on Frenchies, clear it up.

4) THE FRENCH CAFE CULTURE – exactly what the cliché is. Coffee at all times of the day, anywhere, everywhere, always. Most definitely my kind of culture.

5) THE FRENCH KISS – Best chat up line ever: “You are English, non? ‘ave you met ze French kiss? Well, ladiez, I am ze French Kiss” Well, enchantez French kiss, let’s hope to see more of you.

Paris begins…

5. Experimental Cocktail Club

Chinatown: door after door of culinary Eastern promises, roast ducks spinning away in neon lit restaurant windows, and the annual colour-explosion of Chinese New Year - an incredible part of London’s cultural life, but not one I would go to expecting anything more than a belly full of tasty egg-fried rice. So when a friend told me to go to a bar, located at 13A Gerrard Street in the heart of Chinatown, I wasn’t that surprised to find that there was no visible bar anywhere along this road. To find the Experimental Cocktail Club, you need to pretend you’re in some kind of magical world. Somewhere between number 13 and 14 will appear to the very keen eye a small black door, the platform 9 and 3/4’s of cocktail magic. And my goodness, what a well-kept secret this world is. The ECC is a decadent melange of a 1920’s speakeasy and a cocktail bar straight out of elegant Mad Men Manhattan. It’s a three storey converted Victorian house, with a baroque-meets-bohemian décor and an elite (mostly French) clientele to match its flashy cocktail menu. The downstairs main bar is classic and regal, whilst upstairs is smaller, and more intimate, with a piano decorating it’s bar and Chinese style prints to complement its Chinatown location. The drinks are certainly not cheap, especially with the compulsory service charge added to each bar trip, but the cocktails definitely live up to the bar’s name. With ingredients such as smoked pineapple syrup and lavender-infused gin, you are guaranteed to find something to excite you. Owned by a French trio, who have a few very popular bars in Paris, this place is fairly new on the Soho scene, having opened only a few months ago. But judging from a packed Thursday night, it is doing very, very well. And why wouldn’t it? It is exactly what you want from a classy night out. Exclusive, but not pretentiously so, expensive but not unnecessarily so, and so very beautifully hidden, the ECC is one of London’s most brilliant little secrets.

http://experimentalcocktailclublondon.com/

4. Freud

Nestled at the end of Neal Street in the heart of Covent Garden, this cocktail bar and art gallery is almost invisible to the untrained eye. On first appearance it appears to be a dingy, dimly lit basement bar, but follow the rather dangerously steep metal staircase down and far from the seeming descent into hell, this is in fact the path to cocktail heaven. Scrawled on the chalk board behind the tiny bar are at least 100 cocktails, ranging from about £5 to £7.80. And every single penny you spend here is completely worth it. I have never had such a brilliant Bloody Mary, and even the more inventive cocktails make perfect taste sense. The decor and the people most certainly add to this fine concoction; The small space, which is rammed on a weekend, functions also as an art gallery, with eclectic paintings decorating the concrete, minimalist walls, and the skilled creators behind the bar are friendly, fast and, as a nice bonus, always rather good-looking. As a result, this place has rapidly become one of my fail-safe drinking dens, be it for a post-dinner drink, or a pre-clubbing few before hitting the nearby Soho. Be warned though: a friend of mine got the train home in the wrong direction after just two cocktails. Lethally strong and superbly tasty: I’m sure even Freud would approve.