Beth Arnold

No Country For Young Women

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Crossposted at the HuffPost.com.  Comments not included here.

My daughter Bret graduated from college in December as a dean's list student and a favorite of her professors because she worked hard and well, and cared about the work she turned into them. And now she is on the job market. With a major in Mass Communications (and a minor in Gender Studies), she followed in her family's footsteps with a desire to work in the Media. The girl's got game, right? She is on the verge of the American Dream -- to create her adult life with the advantages of a solid (and privileged, to some degree) childhood, education, and ability and desire to do good work. To build on this foundation and make her own fortune and mistakes, to follow her dreams, to be true to herself and her values, and to live a life that is meaningful to her.

That's the way it is, right? Or the way it's supposed to be in the United States of America. In this moment of time and consciousness, the USA is the most powerful nation on the planet -- the master of technology. Americans know no bounds, and we can reinvent ourselves both metaphorically and materially.

But Bret has one little problem. She has no health insurance.

Letter From Paris: Variations on A Model Theme

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The Lisette Model Exhibition at the Jeu de Paume inspired me.  I liked her eye, her style, her capture of real people in real time--and her attitude towards humanity.  What she shows us in her photos is an ephemeral and lasting respect for the people she photographed, as if her camera kissed their ruddy lips in gratitude.

Whether in Paris, Nice, New York, San Francisco, or Reno, Ms. Model also got the feel of these places in moments of time through the people she shot--and gave them to us, her viewers.  She handed us a highly tuned sense of her subjects, in the split-second she captured them--some looking warily at her as she snapped their images.

I can see why Diane Arbus became her student.  {Diane Arbus' Child with Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park, New York City (1962) pictured above}

Lisette Model photo Café Metropole, New York announcing exhibition at Jeu de Paume (Photo by Beth Arnold)

Letter From Paris: Lisette Model Rivets The Jeu De Paume

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Living in the 20th Arrondissement of Paris feels more like a village than the French capital I knew in the 2nd.  Yes, I love my new apartment, but I miss walking out my door to the delirious beauty of the Place des Victoires, ogling the people and windows at Colette's Palais Royal, and taking a brisk stroll along the Seine. 

You don't have to tell me I'm spoiled.  But as I tell the Lone Wolf, I'm not as spoiled as I want to be.  I didn't take my location for granted when I lived there.  I knew it was absolutely deluxe.  But what I'm realizing now is that I need to spend time in the center of Paris--at least once a week--so I can remember what my Paris feels like and so I can find my feeling of home again, because, frankly, I haven't exactly felt like I was at home since I moved.  (How long does it take?)  And sometimes even when I am in the center of Paris, I don't quite feel like I belong there anymore either.  I have lost myself a bit.  How many times can one lose oneself in a lifetime?

When our friend Mario emailed to ask if we wanted to go see the Lisette Model exhibit at the Jeu de Paume, I immediately said yes.  It wasn't just because I need to consciously make this at-least-weekly outing happen, but also because I'd seen the ads and read about the exhibition, which sounded right up my alley.  It was already on my "To Go" list. 

(Photo by Beth Arnold)

Letter From Paris: On Location--Galerie Vero-Dodat

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The passages in Paris--think covered arcades--are secret worlds.  One can walk by their metal gates and hardly get a whiff of their existence, unless we catch a glimpse out of the corner of our eyes, stop and stare directly into their galleries of divine mystery.

My favorite, of course, is the Galerie Vivenne on rue Petits Champs, where I love to buy my eyeglasses at TRACTION (look for a blog later on) and much more.

My second favored passage is the chic Galerie Véro-Dodat, connecting rues du Bouloi and Jean-Jacques Rousseau (pictured above), but is most easily spotted from the rue Croix des Petits Champs.  In neoclassical style--with painted ceiling and paneled shop fronts divided by black marble columns--Galerie Véro-Dodat sets a posh tone for the elegant shops within it. 

Galerie Véro-Dodat was built in 1826 and named after its owners, charcutier (butcher) Benoît Véro and a financier called Dodat.  It was a short cut between busy Les Halles and the Palais Royal, and fashionable shoppers and travelers enjoyed its modern conveniences.  Yes, let's call it as we see it--a 19th Century mall.  And let's say what it is today--a beautiful place to window shop or drop some serious cash. 

Last week the windows that caught my eye were at one of my favorite Paris shoe shops--Christian Louboutin:

Christian Louboutin...Stiletto and Lipstick

Letter From Paris: Do You Feel The Shift?

Check out this trailer for an interesting film that's being made called The Shift:

For those who live in Paris, Moscow, New York, Sydney, London--all points around the globe--is the energy changing?  Yes or no...Do you feel the shift? 

Please let me know with your comments!

                                                        ---Beth Arnold in Paris

Letter From Paris: The Frozen East--Parc des Buttes Chaumont

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Having no idea what the official statistics say, I pronounce this the most frigid winter in recent Paris history.  It has been c-o-l-d, and I mean bitterly.  And when has anyone seen so much snow gracefully falling from the sky--and sometimes in what look to the naked eye like tiny pellets.  The frozen fairy dust has been floating down from a pearly ocean of air, collecting and actually sticking.

My friend Joelle and I went for a power walk yesterday morning, and when we arrived at the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, we discovered many of the walkways and trails were still icy--though this wasn't stopping the Buttes Chaumont crowd from their Sunday runs and flowing T'ai Chi movements.  Bodies regulated and so go minds.  Calm mind and spirit -> higher levels of peace and self-knowledge. 

That's what I want. How about you? 

A photo meditation on Paris's frozen East--the lake at Parc des Buttes Chaumont:

Below the Suspension Bridge

Letter From Paris: Perfume... Most Parisian of Valentines

Cover of A Natural History of the Senses

Crossposted at HuffPo.com.  Comments not included here.

Smell is a potent wizard that transports us across thousands of miles and all the years we have lived. The odors of fruits waft me to my southern home, to my childhood frolics in the peach orchard. Other odors, instantaneous and fleeting, cause my heart to dilate joyously or contract with remembered grief. Even as I think of smells, my nose is full of scents that start to awake sweet memories of summers gone and ripening fields far away."

                               ---Helen Keller

What are human beings if not a body and mind--physically, materially held together, yet compelled and propelled by our senses? Surely, our first subconscious memories are formed from hearing our mothers' voices and learning to recognize their scents, as they held us close and rocked us to the rhythm of their motherly souls. It was the taste of their milk, the sun that must have been their smiles.

"We live on the leash of our senses," wrote Diane Ackerman, author of the fantastic book A Natural History of the Senses, which is a poetic investigation of these potent qualities of our lives. But it is not just the mere fact that our senses exist--it is their meaning to each and every one of us. We all have our own personal sensuous (and I don't mean sexual) vocabularies. Voices, sights, and aromas are thread through us as near mythical embellishments of our memories, as the Berber woman weaves her own stories in her rugs.

Which sense is the strongest? Which one would you be willing to lose?

*

Paris Art Market Buzz: Ice and Ivory

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By columnist Paul Paradis, Art Historian, Specialist Consultant in French Furniture and Decorative Arts.

A Strange Atmosphere

Like the snowy weather in Paris, the art market seems to be in an icy climate since the beginning of the year and present economic context aside, I can’t grasp exactly why.  The Gazette and other art magazines recently published their versions of results for 2009, and of course there was an overall downturn.  However, it was apparently not as pronounced as in the major art epicenters of New York and London.  All analysts are unanimous that the flood which raised the overall water level in Paris last year was the now mythical Yves-Saint Laurent / Pierre Bergé auction in February, held by Christie’s and Pierre Bergé & Associés.  Recall that the sale raked in an enormous €342,000,000, breaking several world records including the largest amount ever obtained for a collection at auction.  Even excluding the results of this sale, Christie’s snatched the position of first place in France from Sotheby’s with overall sales of €112,800,000, despite a decrease of almost 25 per cent compared to 2008.  Among the traditional French houses, Artcurial maintained its position as number one (excluding the two giants mentioned above) with overall sales of €80,500,000.  The sectors more prone to speculative buying, mainly contemporary art, suffered the most while old master paintings and other traditional areas fared relatively well.  For 18^th century furniture the year saw a decrease in volume of sales yet demand for major pieces was maintained by collectors.  Recall the Joseph commode which attained €1,673,000 as an example. (See Paris Art Market Buzz 8 October 2009)   At the same time, the intermediate portion of the market suffered more of a slowdown followed by an upswing in the second semester of 2009. (See Journal des Arts for more details)

Headquarters of Artcurial / Briest - Le Fur - F. Tajan. (Photo: Artcurial)

Letter From Paris: A Paris Valentine

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Valentine's Day is taking hold in Paris.  A few Parisian Valentines I've seen around town:

 

Le Vin & l'Amour at BHV with roses and chocolates

Letter From Paris: Saints and Girls, Superlove for All

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"Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say dey gunna beat them Saints?"

I must congratulate the city of New Orleans and their Super-Bowl-winning Saints! (And for a little interesting history about their chant above, click here.)  Little ole me, who doesn't give a whit about sports, was rooting for you. 

What a beacon of hope the Saints have been to New Orleans...to everyone who lives in or loves this ravaged American city.  The Saints have focused the world's attention on their hometown, and their victory ensures new funds and energy will be poured into this city's regeneration.  We might as well just say this out loud, New Orleans is Paris South.  Both the French and Americans adore it.

(If you haven't seen Clint Eastwood's Invictus, go now.  The story of the South African rugby team making its countrymen proud and bringing them together in hope and the promise of a better future closely resembles what the Saints have just done for NOLA.  I didn't think I would like the film, and I was wowed.)

I see the Saints' Super Bowl win as a love letter to New Orleans, which couldn't be more appropriate a week from Valentine's Day!

Playwright Eve Ensler, best known for The Vagina Monologues, presented her own love letter to New Orleans two years ago.  (Men and boys, no clicking away.  This post is definitely meant for you, too.  If you're heterosexual, we know you love vaginas.  And if you're not, we know you love the package surrounding it.)