Centre Pompidou - Metz

Named after former President Georges Pompidou, the Centre Pompidou in Paris, with its libraries, music institute, educational centers, and of course, its huge collection of modern art, is one of the most important centers for contemporary art in the world. Next year, the Centre is expanding its reach by opening a satellite campus in Metz. Like Parc de la Seille in my entry last week, the Centre is in the new Amphitheatre District of Metz, just opposite the train station, and about a 15 minute walk to the city center.

A project goal is to open the Centre's extensive collection to a wider audience. It will be interesting to see what effects traffic to the Centre has on the local economy, as well.

I walked by the construction site on my walk to Fort de Queuleu in May. It was still just a frame at that point. You can see its current state at the Centre Pompidou - Metz website, and the Centre Pompidou Information Page.

Expressions

From gang symbols and rebellious teenage statements, to doodles and elaborate artwork, graffiti is everywhere. Just as varied as the content, are the reactions to it ... blight on humanity, sign of declining neighborhoods, defacement of property, art, political statement, any combination of those. And yes, it exists in Lorraine, too.

At left, Police Everywhere Justice Nowhere, is in a tunnel by Fort de Bellecroix. I thought it a fitting description of our post-9/11 world. Governments have taken our freedoms and privacy under the guise of security. But we are no safer than before, although considerably more impinged upon, inconveniences paid for by our taxes. You can see more angst-filled statements from this tunnel in my Street Expressions Album.

The green guy at right is more innocuous in appearance, and one of a series painted on the flower boxes on a bridge over the Digue de la Pucelle here in Metz. They seem to be sanctioned by the city, since all the boxes seem to have been painted by the same person. There are also more of this series in my Street Expressions Album.


Okay, so this isn't graffiti. But the title of the album is Street Expressions, and well, I saw this display in someone's yard as I was walking down the street. I find this still life of children's toys and garden gnomes odd, creepy and fascinating. Did an adult set these up, or did a child create his or her own little world?

I often wonder how others feel about expressions, sanctioned or taboo. In a recent blog entry, Zaz discusses her dilemma with Freedom of Expression. As a writer, self expression is important for her, but as a mother, she found it impossible to defend a rapper who had been banned from a music festival for lyrics that were racist, misogynistic, and violent.

On the other hand, another friend of mine, who is a father, told me he is against censure because it gives more power to the target group. To wit, I believe that the rapper in question has had a surge in downloads of his work since that date.

I am not a parent. Nor does my livelihood depend on artistic expression. But I am a member of an ethnic group that has faced socio-political discrimination. I am inclined to agree that censure tends to grant power to the target, and often forces the movement underground, where it is more difficult to track. In this respect, I would much rather have someone's feelings out in the open.

I once had a student who felt a strong revulsion to Asians. Her sole experience with Asians had been a family who lived across from her, and they happened to be slobs. She was from a small town, where the "wrong" influences were strong, and ended up in prison, where racist tendencies were reinforced due to the way inmates tend to group themselves. After her release, she forced herself to deal with her issues, and did that very much out in the open, and this Asian spent many evenings after class discussing her progress with her. I appreciated her candor and efforts to overcome her issues. It was important that she express how she felt and why she felt that way, no matter how ugly those feelings were, in order to work through them. Interestingly, I was disappointed by other peoples' reactions when I described her and her efforts. People I had thought were open-minded were quick to condemn her, completely overlooking her background and the fact that she was working hard to evolve her way of thinking. I did not see the same efforts from them.

I would love to hear how others feel about the freedom of expression, artistic, social, political or otherwise. My door is always open.

In this, my final weekend in Metz for quite possibly a long time, I am a bit sad. There are so many things I still want to see and experience here, but I am out of time on this run. And as luck would have it, I'm fighting off a cold and feeling a little run-down, so I stayed relatively close to the apartment and packed a few items this weekend, rather than go anywhere interesting.

L'auberge Espagnole

In the last two weeks, I have been to Nancy and wandered about Metz more. I am still slogging through photos to find ones to post, and gathering my thoughts to relate something that would be either informational or somewhat interesting. That could take awhile.

I finally visited the interior of the St Étienne Cathedral today. Unfortunately, the photos I took were a bust. It is tall, and has an incredible collection of stained glass windows. I sat on the floor at the back of the cathedral, behind the organ pipes, trying to take a photo, and noticed the echoes of all the sounds -- babies crying, murmurs, even the wind -- all at the other end! Everything can be heard, and yet, nothing seemed to overpower, although perhaps the latter is because people tend to be a little quieter in churches. It is an incredible space, and although I am not Christian, I was deeply moved by its sheer presence.

This weekend, a series of events were held in honor of the opening of the Centre Pompidou in Metz (which I believe is not fully operational yet. The unaware person I am, I did not know about the festivities until sometime last night, when I happened to see a pamphlet lying under the mailboxes in my apartment building. So today I did a quick tour of a few of the art exhibits, some of which will remain until October, although everything this weekend was free.

There was a giant red half-sphere (dish?) by Anish Kapoor. The plaque on the door describes it as simple yet imposing ... made of a material that both attracts and intimidates. The viewer's image is both reflected and lost... What struck me about this piece, was not the work itself, but the juxtaposition of the symmetric modern piece installed in a symmetric classical room that had been constructed by skilled craftsmen. I do not know if it was meant to be displayed in such a manner, but it stirred, at least in me, both fascination and repulsion.

FRAC (Fonds Regional d'Art Contemporain) Lorraine hosted À Contre-Corps/Countering the Body, a collection of works centered around a devouring theme. There is black string over everything, including the entry courtyard. At first, I hesitated to walk on it, but it was the only way in, and then I saw others tromping all over it and figured that was expected... and it was! The string theme leads through the museum to different exhibits, a collection of photos with blindfolded participants "devouring" food laid out on a man's abdomen, a video of mouths. Again, fascinating but disturbing. The photo shows the end (or is it the beginning) of the strands of string, with lonely (bored?) docent slouching in the corner.

At the Musées de la Cour d'Or, an Alexander Calder retrospective, a timeline of his life and achievements, a series of mobiles, films of him and his works. There was one film in which the expressionless Calder made mechanical toys of circus animals of his making go through a miniature circus act, life-size scaled down to tiny. Again, something a little creepy about it, reminding me of a Stankmeyer film, but interesting. It also reminded me of a project my housemate, Steven, developed with one of his partners. They did the opposite of Calder, scaling up the tiny, by making the game, Mousetrap, life-size. Steven has moved on, but his partner still travels with that manifestation.

Across from FRAC, a sound display. A film of a cellist (whose name slips my mind) playing next to a canyon, the sounds melding, as the echos rebound to join the new sounds emanating from her instrument. When I arrived, Veronique (in the photo), who was greeting people at the door, offered to show me through the display, since she could speak English. Veronique translated what the other docents were saying for me. She has applied for a position at the new Centre Pompidou-Metz, and if anyone there happens to see this, she is a wonderful person and extremely helpful.

From the museums, I headed to Place Saint-Louis, where I was to see the highlight of my day. A band was mechanically playing the standard pop/oldies/dance pieces, like they were reading from sheet music. There were three "cannons" shooting out soap bubble "snow" over the dance area, where adults and children alike were jumping around, having a good time. The band played some Latin beats, but I have to say that no one dances to Latin beats like Latinos -- tall, proud, shoulders level, yet relaxed, smooth, and well, the hip thing! In the words of Liz Guerrini (née Zaragoza), the French (she actually said Europeans, I think) cannot move their hips. The theme of the dance was L'auberge Espagnole (Spanish inn), although I have to say that other than those few songs, I did not notice anything else that was Spanish, and really, those rhythms belong to Latin America and Africa rather than Spain.

And then I saw them. A couple who had certainly danced together for some time, was gliding across the floor. They moved, smoothly, assuredly, using the whole floor, with a grace that far outpaced anything else moving out there. They were relaxed and obviously enjoying themselves, and indeed a joy to watch as well. My camera batteries were running low, plus, my eye is also not quite as good, nor my shutter as quick as it used to be, but I hope I have captured some of their joyfulness.

Et je les ai vu. Un couple ce qui a bien sûr dansé ensemble pour un long temps, ils ont glissé à travers la piste de danse. Ils avancèrent, doucement, sûrement, employèrent toute la piste de danse. Ils ont été relâché et manifestement ils sont s'amusés, et vraiment une joie pour regarder. Les piles pour mon camera ont diminué, mon oeil n'est pas très bien, et mon obturateur n'est pas très vite, mais j'éspère que j'aie saisi leur joie de vivre un peu.

At some point, I remembered how much I actually enjoy photographing people. There is something about the human character that adds life to an image.

Pendant le séance, je me souvins que j'aime prendre les photos des gens. Il y a quelque chose sur le caractère humain ce que faire la vie dans un image.

I did not catch their names, but I did obtain their permission to use their photos in this blog, and left the url for them. I hope they have the chance to visit and download their photos!

Je ne sais pas ses noms, mais ils me permettent d'utiliser leur photos dans cet blog. J'éspère qu'ils puissent visiter et télécharger leur photos.

Photos for this entry are in my Metz Events album (there are other photos there as well).

Les photos pour cette note sont dans mon album Metz Events (il y a les autres photos, aussi).

Musées de la Cour d'Or

For photos mentioned in this entry, please view my Musées de la Cour d'Or album on Picasa.

Saturday, the 25th of April began the same way most mornings have started since I arrived in Metz, cool, overcast, threatening rain.  I decided an indoor activity was the best plan for the day, and headed to Musées de la Cour d'Or (Golden Court museums).  There are three main sectors, each a collection of local artifacts:  Musée archéologique; Musée d'architecture; and Musée des Beaux-Arts.

The museum's curators created a set path for viewing, so you see everything in the order in which they want you to see them.  I appreciate the structure, but I can see how others would prefer a more freeform manner of meandering through (there are a few points where you can hop from one area to another and review or skip portions).

The archaeological collection begins in the Gall-Roman era, and an unearthed section of Roman baths.  The collection includes artifacts of worship (see Autel à Bachus photo), objects used in daily life (medical implements photo), and funeraria (photos: cremation urn; reconstructed tomb).  The era ends with an Autel à Mithra (pictured here).  According to the museum signage, Mithraism is Iranian in origin, although that is debated by David Ulansey.  Quite a mystery!

I stopped taking many photos and started rushing through when I reached the Middle Ages and Architecture.  I had arrived in the afternoon, after combing the Marché Couvert for housewares and interesting foods, wasn't sure what time the museum closed, and it was getting awfully quiet!  I move through museums more slowly than everyone, because I read everything (though I don't necessarily retain all I read).  Anyway, I seem to remember more tomb recreations (from a Necropolis south of Metz), examples of coinage, a timeline, and a map depicting who was where and when, which I did try (unsuccessfully) to photograph.

Metz architecture has Roman and Gothic influences, and the civil (as opposed to military) 13th century buildings have an Italian influence:  towers that mimic dungeons; low roofs set back from the walls, creased in their upper parts to act as rain gutters.

One of the first paintings I noticed in the art section was St Christopher carrying the infant Jesus, by Peter Huys (pictured).  At first glance, I thought it was something by Heironymous Bosch, because of all the weird background activities.  It is not something I would want in my house, but it was like a train wreck ... I had to stare!

Leaving the museum, I walked around the building to get a feel for where I had been, and found myself at Place Jeanne d'Arc (she is from Lorraine, a little town called Domremy, and her parents' home is now a museum), in front of Eglise Saint-Ségolène.  I am amazed at the number of churches here, given the size of the city!  This one dates from the 13th century, and like many Metz buildings, is built from a honey-coloured stone known as Jaumont.

The museums are in old-town Metz, where streets are narrow, and likewise, walking areas are narrow.  It can be quite scary when cars zoom by!  The photo in the album shows a street with (relatively) wide pavement.

I dragged my tired legs back to the studio, where I sprinkled thyme from a plant I bought at the marché (I have that, rosemary, sage and basil, all perched in a row on my windowsill) onto a chicken breast and cooked it and an eggplant in my single sauté pan (I have two pans, but I use one to boil water for tea) on one of two electric burners, which have all the responsiveness of a snail!