I have a short attention span, which probably explains why I write headlines and not novels. It definitely explains why I was so surprised when I went to the Musée Maillol  exhibition on Murano glass. After waiting in a short line, and entering the main room I was rather shocked to find a room filled with contemporary art. This would not have happened had I taken the nano-second required to read the  show’s full title; MURANO, masterpieces from the Renaissance to the 21^st Century.

On the other hand, I would have been totally lost had I read the press release which claims the work is shown in chronologically order. It is not. The show begins with a collection of work by contemporary artists, many of them alive and working today. Some of it bizarre, some of it beautiful.  My favorite piece, by the Recycle Group is a bed of crushed glass with footprints that would appear and disappear. It is fun and has something to say, although I am not entirely certain it is art.

As much as I love contemporary art, I was happy to head upstairs to start appreciating the intricately gorgeous works from the Renaissance. Glass blowing became an important contributor to the Venetian purse strings in the 12^th century. It was so essential to the local economy that the doges decided it was at great risk of industrial espionage. The entire industry was moved to the island of Murano where the glass blowers had to live for the rest of their lives. They were not allowed to leave the island unless it was in a casket.

There are some truly stunning pieces in the Maillol exhibition, cups that look like lace, bowls with an opalescent glow. You start to wonder how they survived through out the centuries. The stories they could tell. The work gradually gets more and more modern, ending with the mid-20^th century. The colors become vibrantly rich, with bold shapes and touches of humour that having you leave the show in a good mood.

Its the year of Venise in Paris. Not officially, of course, but with the Canelletto show at the Musée Maillol a the same time as the Caneletto Guardi show at the Jacquesmart André, it knd of felt like it. There is no denying that the city is breathtakingly beautiful with all the elements of great art ; dramatic sky, water elements, extravagant architecture, beautifully dressed townsfolk. But to be incredibly honest you’ve seen 100, you’ve seen them all. And I feel like I’ve had my share of Venetian scenery on oil.

But we’d missed the Jacquemart André show and Mr French, a secret romantic, had not had enough When he saw that Félix Ziem was showing at the Petit Palais, he insisted we attend. Now. Before the show leaves town. Even if it is a rare sunny day in Paris. Not wanting to squelch the inner romantic I so adore and knowing that Le Petit Palais has one of the most pleasant courtyards cafés in the entire city, we were out the door before you could say, « An exotic voyage for two ».

I had never heard of Ziem. The son of a Polish immigrant tailor, Ziem set sail from his native Beaune to become an architect at Marseille where he is seduce by art after a chance encounter with the Duc d’Orleans in the early 1840’s. He heads off for Italy, Turkey, and Egypt exploring the area and reveling in its exotic light and colors. In France he becomes part of the Barbizon school of painters and buys himself an extensive atelier on the hills of Montmarte.

But what about the art ? As you enter the exhibition there is a long case with his notebooks insinde and his drawings are exceptional. I was frustraed that I could only see the page displayed, when I looked up and saw a slideshow of one page after the other. And these were only the skectches.

His paintings had the light of Turner, the palette of Whistler and richness of Caneletto and most of it was not in Venice. I loved the diversity of the paintings displays. Ironically, my favorite work of art in the show was not by the author, but rather of the author’s brother François, a stunningly modern portrait on bare wood by Adolphe-Joseph Monticelli in 1853.

After last weekend at Maastrict I was feeling more cultured than a European yogurt. And the sun was out, which always makes me resolutely museums averse. This did not stop us from stopping by the local auction house.

Druout is the famous auction facility in the 2nd arrondisement, but in 2000 they lost their monopoly on the auction scene and a group of well known auctioneers teamed with the Dassault family to purchase Artcurial, a gallery owned by the L’Oréal family, creating the most important auction house in France. You may not recognize the Dassault name, but that is because, unlike the previous owner, their goods are rarely found on drugstore shelves. They build military airplanes.

Housed behind gilded gates in the Maison Dassault, an aristocratic mansion on the Champs Elysées, Artcurial is known for their bi-annual sales of Hermes goods, comic book art and aeronautical mementos. They also have sales for watches, 20th century art, Art Deco furniture and African art, as well as many others.

Its intimidating walking through the small door in the large grill, but once inside the gates, it is an interesting place and everyone (except cat burglars) is genuinely welcome. Just beyond the reception, to the left is an exhibition space to full of art or artifacts from the next show to go up on the block. To the right is a small room with catalogues for all the coming shows.

Beyond the exhibition space is a large bookstore, with a fantastic collection of art books, divided by genre, and which includes a great kid’s section. Beyond the catalogue area is a cafe where palm trees thrive under skylights.

yeah, I wasn't exaggerating about the rocket pods....

Upstairs is more display space where you are just as likely to stumble over a rocket ship pod as an Hermès Kelly Bag. And if it happens to be auction day, the bidding room is also open to the public for most sales.

It is thrilling sitting there as paddles raise and the auctioneers dives into his patter and paddles begin to raise. You must pre-register for a paddle if you wish to bid, so there is absolutely no chance of you accidentally bidding the family fortune on, say, a staircase from a 1930’s cruise ship.

If you are interested in a paddle of your own, the process is easy, you can even register online. And if you’re really desperate for an original drawing of TinTin, you can even pre-bid several days in advance, giving The House your budget in the hopes that the hammer falls in your favor.

SO we were at the fair to see art, us and 69,998 other aficionados who had crossed countries and oceans to attend. The big news of the fair was that less Chinese are buying this year, the void quickly being filled by American museums which seem to have grown confident of their finances after a bearish hibernation the past few years. And that TEFAF is all set to organize a second fair; in China! But about the art….

Magritte and Me!!!

What I saw, what really blew me away were the Narwhal horns, which, being the left tooth of the arctic whale technically belong in a Natural History exhibition, but being from the 17th and 18th century, they qualified as antiques. Antiques I was invited to touch! That is one of the most flabbergasting aspects of this show. The dealers are happy to talk about their treasures and will occasionally invite you to touch and even try on things as rare and improbable as a Narwhal horn, a tiara, an impressionist painting and ancient Roman pottery.

A coffee table or work of art?

There were several stands with Illuminated books, rare manuscripts that were painstakingly calligraphed, then painted and gilded on parchment by solitary monks living in light deprived, freezing cold abbeys across Europe. Centuries later, the blues were still brilliant, the golds bright and they could be yours for anything from 240,000 to 3,000,000€.

As I walked through the fair, I priced things, which was a great way to strike up conversations with the dealers and to learn the market values of entire genres. By the second day I was humming the Barenaked Ladies song, “If I Had a Million Dollars” and virtually spending the money I don’t have. The thing with TEFAF is that someone with a million dollars could leave with a trunk full of loot and feel very rich indeed, or they could twist in angst over all thy multi-million dollar pieces that were out of reach.

There was an entire section dedicated to fine jewels, with Graff displaying the most famous stones of the show; an incredibly rare 20.02 carat blue diamond set with another 100 carats of diamonds in all different shades to form a $100 million peacock that would fit into the palm of your hand. I didn’t get too close to that piece, but I did approach a pair of diamond earrings that had once belonged to a royal princess, a pendant of an enameled lamb sitting on a golden bed that was created in the 1500’s and some gorgeous Indian with rock crystal stones set into enameled 22k gold fish shaped earring.

We never even knew micro-mosaics as an art form!!!!

In the works on paper area we saw some color-rich Japanese prints (Hiroshige 4,500€) and several studies by Klimt (220,000€). There were also quite a few pieces by Picasso, who could also be found in the Paintings area and the Modern Art section, in Gagosian’s stand, not far from the Koons. There were several mobiles by Calder (1.7M€) and a healthy amount of pieces by Fernand Leger and Joan Miro. The collections were conservative, making this one of the few art fairs where I didn’t wander around the booths snorting, “Hunh, and they call this art?” although Damien Hirst still leaves me cold.

from the 1500's!!!

You tired by all this amazing wealth? I was too, by the time we’d spent one day and seen only 3/5 of the show! We went home exhausted that evening, thrilled to have reservations in the hotel’s restaurant and determined to return the next day, as planned.

We had yet to explore the simply balanced Japanese ceramics (7,000€), nor the astonishingly ancient 3000 year old buddah (65,000€) or the heart-stoppingly pure Egyptian cat (75,000€). There was a blue hippo from Egypt that looked liked he’d sauntered off a poster for the Met, and gold earrings from ancient Rome that were actually quite wearable, though I’d be terrified of loosing one on the metro tracks.

Then we made our way to the Paintings, instantly falling for a gorgeous Caillebotte (2.4€ million) of a tree in a meadow that had been inspired by a Monet the artist owned. There were fantastic Dutch still lifes of butterflies (40,000€) by an artist I’d never heard of before, but plenty of work by names you’d recognize, like Boldoni, Cassat, Brueghel, Delacroix, Velazquez and Van Dyck.

After two days, even Mr French was feeling saturated, and loaded down. He was packing some serious weight on him because the galleries, which had been selling their personal catalogues for about 10€ a stand, suddenly went into panic at the thought of shipping all their tomes back and were handing them out as free gifts that we couldn’t refuse, happy to drive home with fodder to dream on.

Please don’t ask me how to pronounce the name of this town. I simply can’t no matter how many times I’ve been corrected. But I am not the only one who has a hard time with the place. When I announced we were going to Maastricht, half the French people I know thought we were headed to Belgium, but it is in fact, in Holland. Why would I be going to a town I could not pronounce and very few people ever bother to find it on a map? For art’s sake! For the The European Fine Art Fair, to be precise, or TEFAF, for those in the know, which has been one of premier art shows since 1975.

What exactly is an art fair and what does one do there? Its a one stop shop for serious art buyers and lovers, collection 260 art galleries from 20 countries showing art from every continent except Antarctica. The are 5 main sections to the show, Old Masters, Antiques, Modern Art, Art on Paper and Design (which is a fancy way of say 20th century furniture). Within those sections there is also an area with fine jewelery and a handful of manuscripts and classical antiques (the really old stuff). Nobody seemed to know exactly how large the show was in kilometers, but its like a super mall of really amazing stuff and people flock there, paying the 55€ entrance fee to see truck loads of really rare and beautiful stuff.

Some of those people are billionaires and they are out shopping, vying against museum curators for some key pieces. Others may be passionate collectors who put all their resources into one specific kind of art and there are art students who simply want to learn more, but the vast majority of the people are the same crowd who would head to the Louvre on a Sunday afternoon. Especially this past Sunday, when we heard flocks of Dutch, speaking Dutch. We also heard American and British, some Chinese, lots of French, German and Italian with a bit of Russian for good measure.

Taking a closer look at 2000 yr old gold rings

If you hate museums, this show is probably not for you, but if you like art, its as exciting as being a 7 year old in a candy shop, a 1€ coin in your sweaty palm. Most people probably don’t consider TEFAF because it is out of the way and expensive to attend, but there may be a handful out there who do not go because they are intimidated by the thought of mixing it up with the elite of the art world, so today’s post is all about squashing that inhibition. Because unlike a museum, this place is like an interactive art history lesson, with some of the greatest specialist from the art world absolutely thrilled to share their knowledge and show their art.

Everyone is welcome. If you love art, it is the experience of a lifetime and you really should go. Its an easy train ride from Paris, so day trips are possible if you happen to live in town. The fair is a 30 minute walk, or 10€ taxi ride from the station. When you get there, I recommend spring the 2,50€ for the coat check. The entrance fee, 55€, includes a gorgeous, full color catalogue of the show. It weighs 5 kilos, so I sincerely recommended that you pick it up as you leave at the end of the day.

Getting close to art

Oops!!! Important point, what to wear! There were some outrageous outfits, and a confirmed eccentric, or two, like that crazy Californian chick who lives in Paris, and recently acquired a Bowler hat in London that she absolutely insisted on wearing the first day (to great acclaim, I may add). Most people, however, wear simple nice clothing with the experts insisting on comfortable shoes. I saw very few jeans, and it was warm inside, so sweaters we rare, but beyond that, it was anything goes.

So you’re well dressed, inside the show and ready to go. What now? Prioritize! We spent an entire day visiting just 3 sections. Once you know what you want to see first, start exploring. And here is the important bit, ask questions! The dealers are there to sell, but also to educate and they were happy to talk about their collections and the art world today, even to the obviously starving art a students. Its fascinating what you learn and an absolute thrill when they invite you to feel the canvas of a Caillebotte, hold a 3000 year old piece of pottery, or try on a tiara!

The gallery owners like a bit of fun, too!!!

For lunch, there are a couple of cafés and a “real” restaurant, but we were thrilled with the curry cart we stumbled across on the second day. Lunch for two 11€. After lunch we headed out to see more art and only stopped when they announced the doors were closing in 15 minutes and the booths started closing.

That night we were as exhausted as we had been earlier this month after a day’s skiing. Our minds racing as we digested all we’d seen…. more to come on that tomorrow!!!

An exotic name that evokes love and romance. Somehow I made it through childhood, beyond my teens and into adulthood without ever having read the story of the Princess Scheherazade and the Tales of the 1001 Nights. I knew about Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves, Aladdin and Sinbad the Sailor, but mostly through Disney and Hanna-Barbera, I did not know about the beautiful virgin married off to an evil despot who believe all women were philandering whores. A belief that inspired him to take a bride every morning and have her assassinated before the next sunrise. The vizer’s daughter was horrified to see all these innocent young women loose their lives, and decided to do something about it. She convinced her father to let her be the next bride. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he’s not the first man to find himself firmly wrapped around his daughter’s little finger. And, she assured him, she had a plan.

That night in bed, alone with her king Scheherazade began to spin a tale. A wonderful, enchanting story that had the King completely enthralled. He had to know how it ended, but she fell conveniently asleep before revealing who done it. If the king wanted to know what happened next, he had to spare her life, and he did. This went on for 1001 Nights.

L’Institut du Monde Arabe celebrates Scheherzade with the exhibition LES MILLE ET UNE NUITS that will run until April 28th. Entering the show, I was swept away by the modern version of a flying carpet that hovers about the first room, showing the various editions of the book, from the earliest known example in Arabic (on loan from the University of Chicago, thank you dear daughter) to the decidedly more modern 19th century French translations.

Winding through the exhibition there is a sound area dedicated to the recital of some of the tales, read by French actress and singer Sapho. I slipped on the headphones and was swept away by the seductive poetry of her voice, although the tales themselves are sometimes sad and sometimes violent.

There are more rooms. Some featuring the art from the region, other focusing on the story’s history in film. There are jewelery and costumes, and weapons of war; a totally bizarre foil-wrapped room featuring genies and djinn, as well as some truly exquisite objets d’art. There was a set of Chinese haircombs made of metal and kingfisher feathers that were stunning. Throughout the show, the colors are rich, the materials sumptuous and the subject enthralling, everything you’d expect from a centuries old tale that translates into nearly every culture across the globe.

London gets a bad rap for being grey and rainy, but Paris does not exactly enjoy tropical highs on a regular basis. In fact, sunny days with bright blue skies are remarkably rare in this part of the world, so when the sun does shine, there is only one place I want to be; outside! Mr French, who works outside the city all week, sees things differently, because while he is happy to see the sunshine, he has exactly 8 days a month in which he is out of the office. After doing a bit of sports, grocery shopping and running errands this does not leave him with much time to take advantage of everything Paris has to offer. Especially not art exhibitions, which is his second favorite hobby after rugby.

So when the sky is bright and the sun is high, we occasionally find ourselves facing a dilemma; he needs his fix for fine art and I stubbornly refuse to pass through a doorway. This is exactly what happened last week as we walked home after a leisurely lunch in the 14th, negotiating a truce debating our options.

The Adams Family!!!

We were so wrapped up in our conversation, we almost didn’t realize that we were in front of the Montparnasse Cemetery. Even though it is a short walk from our front door, I’d never been inside, yet had always wanted to because I’d heard fabulous things about the Pigeon family grave. Trying to change the subject, I suggested we take a detour and quickly found that we’d accidentally stumbled upon our solution!

At the entrance of the cemetery, there is a guard’s booth where they offer free maps. Looking it over the long list of luminaries and celebrities, we were quickly enthralled and insatiably curious. Jean Paul Sartre is buried beside the love of his life Simone de Beauvoir. The poet Baudelaire, the singer/songwriter Serge Gainsbourg, the actress Jean Seberg, and American feminist Susan Sontag all keep one another company.

As we strolled through the grounds, passing families with kids learning to master the tricycle, dapper seniors out for a stroll and the curious, like us, we came across famous names from the literary establishment. Names like the dictionary Larousse, as well as the editors Flammarion and Hachette. And I even found the Adams Family! Something about cemeteries brings out the kid in me. I felt slightly guilty about my laughter over the Penis family headstone, but was unabashed about taking photos of this phallus symbol, I mean really, it’s circumcised, there is no doubt about the sculptor’s intent!!

The cemetery has a surprising number of sculptures by internationally acclaimed artists. There are two works by Niki de Saint Phalle and the Brancusi masterpiece, “Le Baiser”.

It took us a while to find “The Kiss”. Hidden in a remote corner of the cemetery, we kept looking down at the gravestones. Then Mr French had the bright idea of looking up for security cameras, which is when he spotted the statue. Simply breathtaking. We headed towards the exit, but just three tombs down from the work of art we spotted an empty tomb, with a note informing passers by that this lot is available for rent.

Mr French paused mid-step, “What do you think? We could be buried just steps from Le Baiser. The shadow of a kiss thrown across our tomb for eternity.”