Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac

Today I traveled to Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac, a contemporary art gallery on 7 rue Debelleyme, in the 3eme arrondissement. Not very easy to find, this gallery is set back from the street under its large, stark-white square entranceway, behind glass doors through which you see dead center, the first (and main) exhibit. This would be, at the moment, Jules de Balincourt, a Brooklyn-based French artist whose work is a figurative-abstract-narrative-dreamlike-down-to-earth-and-mysterious combination (thanks to the press-release). Confused? It's better just to see for yourself.


In any case, Jules de Balincourt was definitely a fantastic start to my event excursions. My personal favorites of his work on display include "Getting to No France" (above) in which the artist challenges the viewer to recall the main regions of France by labelling those of its neighbors; "Where is your flag now, Asshole?", and this one on the right which I failed to get the name of. His subject matter ranges from socio-political landscapes to exotic utopias, each intended to make the viewer become the voyeur. His perception of the American pop-culture is reinforced by his use of neon brights against white or dark backdrops - which turns out to be very effective.



After my refreshing circumambulation of de Balincourt's exhibit, I descended a stainless steel spiral staircase (holy alliteration) to the second of three parts/levels to the gallery. Featured on the lower level is Jeon Joonho, a hyperrealist installation artist from Korea. Faced with the decision of "Room 1" or "Room 2," I opted for logic and walked to the left into Room 1 which houses "Panic Disoderius," an installation of 6 steel support beams that look like they've come from a construction site, and to the right a drop-screen on which an animated 30 second film plays, showing the Statue of Liberty and slowly zooming into the crown, behind which we see two identical men begin to embrace. The style of animation reminds me of a silent animated film called The Snowman, which I used to watch when I was young, based on a book by Raymond Briggs about a boy who builds a snowman and embarks on an adventure with him as he comes alive late at night.


Then I wander into Room 2, not far down the skinny corridor which I first entered from the staircase. BAM! I see a corpse. No, second look, the mummified corpse of an old man, comb-over intact, enclosed in a glass case. He is loosely wrapped from his chest down to his ankles in aged-white muslin. He is holding what looks like a book or frame, which entices me to walk around and see what it is he is reading. Infact, it is a digitalized version of an Old Master painting of Jesus on the Cross with blood flowing from his hands. Don't ask me to analyze that because I will probably say something un-p.c.



The 1eme etage, as it goes in France (the second floor for us Americans), is an exhibit titled "Landscope," a group show curated by Matthieu Poirier. Comprised of nineteen different artists, each piece is related to nature or landscape and serves as a study of cartography, biology, or ecology. Rather than list all of the artists and their works, I will just tell you which were my favorites: Raymond Petibon, Robert Longo, and Daniel Zeller (although I thought that most of the pieces were great).

Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac

7 rue Debelleyme, 3eme arrondissement; Metro: Saint-Sebastian Francois

Open Tuesday - Saturday, 10 a.m. to 7 p.m.

Je suis arrivee! / My Project

So I have arrived in Paris. Staying with maman in the 7th, on rue Vaneau. Life is great.

Here's the real deal..

After 3 days of sleeping, walking, and thinking about the month ahead of me, I have decided to start this very blog. In order to take full advantage of my time, I'm going to need to make some very measurable steps to come out of Paris in July with a feeling of productivity and accomplishment. My ultimate plan is to attend an arts event of my choosing for every day that I can of the month of July (minus the 31st, when I leave). I will report the who, what, where, when, and sometimes, if I'm feeling particularly inspired, the why of every experience.

Incase you like to cut to the chase, here's the idea, broken down:

Who: Me, Hadley Lyman

What: A log of the arts events I attend to share with you and to give you and insight on things to do in Paris during the summer

Where: Paris, France

When: July 1st through July 30, 2008

How: by foot, bus, metro and/or bike

Why: Because I want to learn as much as possible about the current art scene in Paris as quickly as possible and share my experiences with you all. This will be a constantly evolving process and hopefully by the end I will be more knowledgeable about the ingenuity and essence of the artists of Paris, their venues, and their admirers.


I am doing this for a number of reasons, for my education, for fun, for my exposure to the gamut of Parisian experiences, and for me.

I have kept my thoughts to myself for a very long time. I don't recommend this in the slightest because now, after years of digesting my education and internalizing my thoughts about my aspirations and my passion for the arts, I am spilling my thoughts to you, the public, over the internet and it's not going to be particularly eloquent or particularly funny, but I will try my best to touch on both. My aesthetic experiences tend to float - sometimes they are playful and humorous and sometimes they are serious (seriously good or bad) - so that's kind of how I will shape my blog.

I don't plan on giving you extensive details about the quality of the art, because I am not qualified to do so, by my own standards. Instead, I will give you a run down on the experience, the venue, and the little details that count. Semi-narrative and semi-informative. I hope you like it.