donderdag 13 augustus 2026

shortstop paris

 



The first day went pretty much as planned: arrival and first stop at the Seine – the Latin Quarter is nice and quiet now in summer – a quick coffee at 'La Palette' opposite Lara Vincy at the Accademy. Too much sun for Deux Magots or Flore – it's already quite hot, though not as extreme as a few weeks ago, that's still coming... but 31-32°C is already plenty for me... a stroll & a roll (still from Lille) on the banks of the Seine and then off to the Metro Assemblée – where I thought I'd see if the statue in front of the Palais Bourbon might be the one I've been searching for ever since my  1950s photo search... and yes! Eureka, finally! Why didn't I realize it back then... almost 20 years ago now... So, a good start. We were then able to go to the hotel (behind N.D. de Lorette in the 9th arrondissement) and freshen up, then continued wandering (from shade to shade and through metro tunnels).

 


 The area around Gare St. Lazare was too renovated/demolished – so we moved on to the Marais, which I know best. We bought a quiche-like tart from Manon and some cold coffee at the supermarket, and then sat down on a bench in the Place des Vosges... because it was still too hot to do too much. People-watching – that's all you need on a 'Dog Day' afternoon – after a while, We meandered along to St. Paul and took the metro towards La Défense, got off at Les Sablons and into the Bois de Boulogne... no sign of cooling down – the heat was trapped in the dry forest, Lieve was afraid it would explode into a forest fire... I wanted to see Gehry's Vuitton creation... and found it somewhat mediocre – somewhere between the Disney and Weismann Museums, but more airy... not airy enough for the surroundings, in my opinion – playful, yes, but also the question of whether it needs to be so extensive... I didn't go inside, but you can see quite a bit online, and it's very present, like elsewhere – I prefer more neutral spaces... (I'm just old-fashioned by nature...)

 

 

Anyway, through the dry forest to Porte Dauphine and by tram through the districts to Porte de Clignancourt – the social divide is very noticeable between Avenue Foch and then Château Rouge, where might imagine te be in Lagos... it used to be less grim than this time – more drug dealing than exotic markets these days, we think – anyway, some 'clochards' have become very peculiar; perhaps Flakka has gained more of a foothold in France than here. So, we athletically climbed the side staircase from the Sacre Coeur again... Lieve was already dragging herself & down on her knees, not out of piety, but because she simply couldn't go on! Too little coffee, too high a temperature, too long the distances Chris had devised to complete within specific time slots... ooof. 


 

 

But then beautiful views at the top – ah, Paris! Admittedly very crowded, with various artists feeling compelled to give free concerts, but hey, it's the holidays, isn't it? (or rather, it is the holiday) – starting to feel a bit tired, we took a side street to the Bateau Lavoir and a little further down, settling down on a terrace nearby. Evening fell and the dogs need to go out – the sight of Fifi & Madame gives our beer and croquette the necessary lift and amusement until darkness falls. Then a quick visit to the Church of the Abesses and back to the metro (not quite the last metro yet, but the second to last – because we absolutely had to see the river, Place de la Concorde, and the Eiffel Tower... The Bateau Mouche applauded as we exchanged a tender pensioner's kiss on the bridge. After admiring the Montgolfière, back to the metro and home... or rather, home to our hotel, where we fell asleep quite quickly and were lucky with the lack of street noise – a perk of summer in Paris.

 



We slept in well and had a mediochre breakfast at the hotel – my plan had been to have petit déjeuner outside – but I saw out the window that the bakeries I'd spotted on Google were closed. Oh well, then I found a BoBo coffee shop a little further up, but it wasn't quite right either: the scone was good, but the coffee was a bit too exotic and expensive... that's the downside of summer: all the Parisians are gone. No decent regular coffee, just specialties everywhere. Anyway, back to the hotel, pack up, pay, and then on to the 'Musée de la Vie Romantique' – the real reason for the trip, since Marc R. had highly recommended it when we said goodbye at the hospital – so it was a kind of homage. A charming place, still with a touch of city-official administrative charm (instead of the glossy private museums that are everywhere these days), and interesting enough. 


 

The former haunt and workplace as well as collection Ary Scheffer—especially with the addition of the George Sand section—is a good illustration of the then-current 'Nouvelle Athènes' where Romantic souls congregated... oh, and young Werther, among a few others... Luckily, we were early enough because it was starting to get quite crowded. The paintings in the studios weren't uninteresting, but we grew up with mediocre kitsch imitations of this era, and it's not easy to see the originals differently... 

 


 

So, out we went: I had planned to take another look at the Bir Hakeim bridge—from there you can take a lovely walk along the Seine in the Eifel region—but the Quai Branly is now so full of tourist attractions that it's not the idyllic scene it once was... then back across at the Debrilly footbridge and into the Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville... the The collection is still free to visit, but this time we had bad luck: most of the rooms were closed for "accrochage". However, we enjoyed the cooled rooms and made some minor discoveries. Afterwards, we continued to the Pont d'Alma, where we had a snack on a small terrace before heading down the chic boutique street of the big brands – glittering, empty shops (Prada, Armani, Cucinelli, Dior, Sander, Valentino, etc.) with workout doormen in bursting suits along the Avenue Montaigne to the Champs-Élysées, where we went underground again and resurfaced at the Fondation Cartier at the Palais Royal. I wanted to see what Chris Dercon's new workplace looked like... (He had mentioned my gallery a few years earlier when he was still director of the Petit Palais – someone who hadn't forgotten where he had first seen his discoveries )– but this new structure in the old building opposite the The Louvre was too aloof & farfetched for me... it's probably a good way to crown one's career, but it doesn't really have much to do with art anymore... so then I went straight to the Bourse, where the Pinault Collection is now housed... another mega-project where a great building has become a showpiece – the setting more important by far than the art, although there are always some interesting pieces – in any case, we didn't have any more time, so we plunged into the Halles and headed to the train station.



zaterdag 9 mei 2026

Considering the consideration

 While one of my works was being (ostensively) executed in Leicester I myself was taking the waters at one of Europes traditional Spas without being Spa itself... Chance conspired that I was there at all - since it is not in my usual itinerary even though it is something I would like to do more often.

 


 


Reconsidering considerations


Though taking part in an unnoticed presentation in Leicester UK with a work done for the Nieuwstraat in Dortrecht NL before I decided it was not opportune to travel there myself but let the organizers do the execution with the help of their crew of performers – instead I decided to indulge in my preferred pastime of pitching up in unexpected places – this time in the wake of a series following the history of water – more specifically the rather obscure group loosely attached to Emile Goudeau's hydropathes and based on the the 'buveurs d'eau' of a generation before around Henry Murger (1840's) a splintering that was related to the 'incohérentes' but blended in perfectly with the higher society's penchant to 'take the waters' at various Spa towns across Europe. In fact so much so as to go mainly unnoticed... by their compatriots but also by history.

Originally coined 'waterdrinkers' because they didn't have money to buy (more than one) glass of wine, once part of the 'poètes maudits' and their entourage, they evolved to become absorbed by high society in the end... a metamorphosis that intrigued me...


So considering that the action I proposed was being performed unannounced, unnoticed and nu-documented in far away Leicester, I stopped to (re-) consider taking the waters – unnoticed, unannounced and not quite undocumented... for here is a report of this uncanny moment: the one in which the thought came to me, and shortly after, the moment of reconsideration. Whereas this took only a minute or so, the reconsideration involved the timespan between the original waterdrinkers of around 1840 to the latter-day followers in a completely different guise and social make-up... in fact hardly to be compared, and then the contemporary considerers such as myself -

zut alors


so I dropped an old 50 centime (Belgian frank) coin as homage – the other 50 centimes to be deposited elsewhere.

 


 

donderdag 26 maart 2026

The Dort

 

On the way to Dordrecht we visited the village of Moerdijk which is slated for disappearance.... this sympathetic little enclave of nature and maritime tradition is being eaten by the inexorable appetite of industry spreading like cancer,,,


Anyway...
This time decided to combine with two aspects and try to keep the reference in the middle... ’marking equidistances’ an intervention for two... meeting in the middle as it were... point of departure being the encounter with Turner at the local museum: on the occasion of a visit of works from the Yale center for British Art in New Haven, Connecticut with the centerpiece being "Dort or Dortrecht: the Dort Packet boat from Rotterdam becalmed" which Turner had painted after a visit to the city in 1817/18... along with other fascinating works skirting the tumultuous seas of the diffuse line between naturalism and abstraction...
Quite a few interesting works by Turner, compared & contrasted with Dutch counterparts that inspired him... an exhibition that worked well and worth the visit... and, as if to stay in the maritime surrounding, the practical significance of equidistance is essential for the defining of boundaries in otherwise unclear waters...









(state at) point of departure



One o’clock. After having left the point op departure on the steps of the city hall, we proceeded between balustrade of the bridge over the canal connecting the various ports in the city... and the first lamppost on the corner of the square... from there we zigzagged along the Groenmarkt street from planters and corners, posts and bollards tto the next bridge, the Visbrug with the monument for the De Witte brothers...

Across the bridge then to the Waalse kerk... formerly a church founded by Waloon  (and French)  reformist (Calvinist) refugees from the south... later (edict of Nantes) more hugenots also departed from these parts (VOC and WIC) to various continents .. onwards to the back of the city hall where we encountered a defibrillator... this had to included in the process as homage to the performance space in Chicago that so kindly executed our work a few years back...



Around the corner and we were back on the bridge.. another zig-zag and back where we started with only a couple of minutes to spare... a well rounded intervention to be sure.










(state at) arrival



Again by going walkabout (last time a couple of thousand steps backward) we didn't see much of the other participants aside from our traditional drink after.... more involvement next time... on tge way home a quick visit to Pictura, which is always a fine and interesting experience.  


 x marks the spot (locus) equidistant from/to