7 September 2008
the ninety-nines
For a foreign place, Paris sure feels like home. It’s one of the reasons I came here, and it’s not due to anything particularly profound. It’s in the small daily ways of living, and believe it or not I am trying to live small here. In many ways, Paris is much like New York (though that only proves to me how European New York can seem…) I buy my bread at the bakery, my meat at the butcher, my vegetables at the farmer’s market. I can walk everywhere, or take the Metro if I’m going far (though not all night long, unfortunately.) Parisians even jaywalk as much as New Yorkers – no, more.
So last night I did what I would often try to do in the Fall: go to gallery openings. It’s not the enormity of the usual (and usually fun) Chelsea Open Season that I always seem to hit, but I still managed to go to eight or nine openings. I can’t say I was impressed by much, except how the art here looks just like the art at home. I did get to enjoy an older piece by Sophie Calle that I’d never seen in person (Gotham Handbook, 1994/2000), at Emmanuel Perrotin. There were Jesper Just videos in the main gallery space, but I hate watching Slow TV with a bunch of sweaty rubber-neckers… I will go back and check them out on my own time, when it’s quiet.
The only other artist I liked was Susan Collis, in a group show called Lure at Galerie Frank Elbaz. I suppose her transformation of everyday objects is a bit of an obvious gambit in the high-low game, but I almost always appreciate really good craft, and I like a sneaky surprise, if it’s rewarding…
Of course, like at all gallery openings, the people-watching was the most fun. I can’t say exactly why yet (I need more data!) but the High Style of the Parisians is definitely different than that of New Yorkers. The Fuck You artist look here seems more about Wacky Color and Kooky Prints, where it’s still more that roughed-up, post-punk “oh this old thing?!?” in New York. But so many more people were just seriously dressed up, and I mean really nicely. Well-tailored jackets on the men, gorgeous cocktail dresses on the women. People also looked a lot older to me – busted wrinkled faces and bagged eyes, but man, they looked good. I’m sure it’s the Smoking Culture here (still in full swing) that gets you looking that way, but it’s clearly the je m’en fous that keeps you looking that hot.
Speaking of, I already ran into someone I know: the designer Zaldy and his boyfriend, both of whom were dressed to the ninety-nines. Clearly, they’ve been to openings in Paris before…
