Exactly one week ago today, I had a wonderful day. To begin with, it was the first sunny day we’d had in weeks. I was ecstatic as I pulled on some long underwear and headed out the door. Long underwear? In October? Yes, I know that was probably overkill, but the lack of sunshine seems to have addled my brain.

Reading my twitter feed in the metro, somebody posted about a Mastercard campaign and the priceless Paris moment. Every idea I had involved food or chapamgne, both of which come with a price tag, so I was drawing a blank as I walked into the Tuileries Gardens and was greeted with a magical sight of white soaring mobiles in the pond. Free art in Paris with the surprise effect. Priceless.

I was in the gardens headed to the Jeu de Paume for the press opening of their new exhibits of Bravo and Muntadas. The crystal blue skies reflected my exceptionally bright mood, as I was thrilled to be attending my very first official art event as a blogger for Findingnoon, but I knew nothing about the photographers, or their work. A serious error of judgement due to pure snobbery; as a photographer, I don’t seem to appreciate photography.

Sabes, not at Jeu de Paume

Let me explain. I like art that is well beyond my abilities. Something I do not have the skill, imagination or vision to create. With photography exhibitions I’ll sometimes see work that is hauntingly close to my own. Which makes me grumpy.

The Jeu de Paume is the perfect space for an exhibit you’re not dying to see. Easy to navigate (its original use as an old-wave tennis court makes it a simple rectangle) and relatively small, it is an very approachable museum. And there are lockers so you don’t have traipse about with your winter wardrobe (wool coat, umbrella and scarf can weigh a girl down). Because it was a press event, we had the added luxury of being met with trays of viennoiseries from the Patisserie des Rêves. Mmmm… so much for my diet, the stuff was dreamy.

The Bravo exhibit is on the first floor. Nice standard photography with a great eye for geometry, which I appreciate. But nothing particularly ground breaking from my point of view. When explaining it to a friend I said that it reminded me of Henri Cartier-Bresson. Turns out these two cliché artists knew each other and it shows.

I hesitatingly trudged upstairs to see the rest of the exhibition. My intention was to take a few photos and run. Like all best plans, this one went astray, because the work I found upstairs was incredibly powerful and so interesting that even the guards were spending their time actually looking at the art, which is rare. Very rare. So rare that I need another post to share it all with you. See you tomorrow, at noon, on Findingnoon.