Beth Arnold

Letter From Paris: The Springing of Spring

Spring is beginning to unfold in Paris.  Tiny leaves thrust from their buds on the vine outside my door, and pose themselves in stages of unfurling.  I can see only a few from where I'm sitting now, but I know there will be more and more and more. 

The deep well of cold in which this winter so lovingly embraced us has fled for better climes.  She was quite an icy vixen, which pleased me well.  There is nothing like a cracking cold and clear day or snow falling softly around me, lighting on my tongue and nose.

Baby green is the color of Spring, clear and bright before the sun has given it the blood of light and toughened it. 

Spring at the Monoprix

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Letter From Paris: Beautiful Minds

A great season of exhibitions is upon us.  It is a coming together of beautiful minds being offered up to the citizens and visitors of Paris. 

We always have great shows, of course, but I find this to be a line-up that ranges across cultures, time, and sensibilities that especially appeal to me.  These are artists who have used their brains and talent to (have) evoke(d) potent images that run deep in our consciousness as well as unconscious.  Who better than Lucien Freud (grandson of Sigmund; painting above) to symbolize this artistically?  See list below.

Throughout time, artists have produced the work that compelled them despite the pressures to repeat the status quo.  This is how society pressures us—instead of encouraging us to stand out as our authentic selves.  As I said in my piece on Friday, the real luxury moving forward today is handcrafted people (not stamped with Like Everyone Else) with their own ideas and designs that they are contributing to their cultures and consciousness, and with a solid community behind them.

These are the shows I will definitely see:

1.  Edvard Munch at the Pinacothèque de Paris:  February 19th, and until July 18th, 2010. Munch is one of the most mythical artists but also one of the most mysterious of the end of the 19th-century and early 20th-century.

Death in the Sickroom by Edvard Munch

Letter From Paris: Celebs Are Out, The Fringe Is In

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

While Paris Fashion Week was gearing up and its participants were sharpening their stilettos (though hold the presses for the Big New Flash about that: According to a Reuters article, "buyers and designers at Paris fashion week are declaring the end of the celebrity cult." Has Hell frozen over?), I was hurrying down the street to meet my arty friend Louise. For those in the know: Louise has put up a new show at her chic Atelier 7. You don't want to miss it.

Louise and I were headed to a fashionable party. The Mademoiselle à Paris blog--which chronicles the adventures of a "Parisienne" via "Mademoiselle's" fashion and beauty ramblings--was throwing itself a 2nd birthday party. Oh la la! As a charitable part of the bon anniversaire celebration, stylish Parisian buddies e-boutique Je Ne Sais Quoi, leather cuff and other accessories designers Owen&Savary, and jewelry designer Nathalie Sevikian were holding a private sale of their luxury creations and products. A portion of their sales would be given to the Red Cross for Haiti.  Little Miss Cupcake and Synie's Cupcakes were providing the scrumptious hors d'oeuvre sustenance that would allow us guests to enjoy our champagne without its zooming to our heads.

Little Miss Cupcake's cupcakes

While millions of euros were being prepared to be spent on lavish splendorous events to woo the buyers, wearers, and fickle fashion press (with its soon-to-be-dead celebrity culture) of Paris Fashion Week, these smart women had come together to provide their own venue for their own private show, where clients, friends, and journalists would gather to ooh and ah over the quality, materials, and craftsmanship of these very personally chosen and created collections.

Letter From Paris: Loving the Luxe Astier de Vilatte

Synchronicity has recently been drawing me to the rue Saint-Honoré.  Isn't it fantastic when life works that way?  When we let ourselves be open enough to follow the leads that come from natural serendipity or a twist of spontaneous fate--when somehow our interests and desires summon the people, places, and experiences that we actually want and even need.

Okay, I didn't really need to find a new favorite shop, but that's the beauty of it.  After a recent delicious lunch at the L'Ardoise Restaurant on rue Mont Thabor, the Lone Wolf, our friend Mario, and I were strolling along famous fashionista rue Saint-Honoré--which has luxe window-shopping--salivating over this and that as our lustful eyes led us along.  (Though let me just state here that I don't care who applauds it, I don't much like boutique Colette.  It's a trendy so-what in my book.)

When we arrived at the door of Astier de Vilatte, Mario said that we had to go in there. It was a French company, an emporium of hand-crafted delight, and we would want to empty the stores shelves into our pockets or load up the nearest truck (something like that).

Letter From Paris: Guetty Felin Calls All The Right Shots

Crossposted at HuffPost.com.  Comments not included here.

Paris, Winter 2008

The scene opens on the soft light of daybreak glowing over the rooftops of Paris's 20th Arrondissement. A woman's soothing voice says, "Over the past several months, an unrelenting roar has been mounting across the Atlantic, resonating all the way to Paris, my adopted city for the last 20 years. Something is happening in America. Four decades have gone by since we were last summoned to come together as a nation to search for, rethink, and dream another America. Today, a voice rises above the din challenging us anew, and for the first time in a long time, I can almost call America home again."

Soon we're seeing, Guetty Felin and her husband, Hervé Cohen, driving along an American highway with their two teenage sons. They are headed for Texas, where they will work for the Obama campaign and Guetty and Hervé will shoot this documentary film called Closer to The Dream. In the process, they'll be giving their sons a view of the heartland of America that most Americans--who don't live there--will never see. They'll also be imparting an incredible lesson in politics and bearing witness to a stunning moment of history.

A song called "Better Way" by Ben Harper is carrying them and us, the audience, along.

...What good is a man
Who won't take a stand
What good is a cynic
With no better plan
I believe in a better way...

                                                         ---Ben Harper

We, as an audience, are immediately snared into the rhythm of the movie, and we are living the dream with them.

Letter From Paris: Cafe Verlet and The Exquisite Fortune Teller

Image via Wikipedia

It started when I got the email from My Little Paris:

Fortune telling. I guess we would all try it if it weren't for the fear of entering a shabby shack in the middle of nowhere and the prospect of facing a turban-hatted gourou with clinky rings. What if you could have your future (and fortune) told in a chic and respectful venue in the heart of Paris ? It's happening right now at Café Verlet, rue Saint-Honoré, a few blocks from Hermès. 

Well, My Little Paris doesn't know me.  I have happily been to plenty of psychics, healers, and other sensory advanced and aware individuals, in the city and in the country, which some would call the middle of nowhere--though none of them wore turbans or clinky rings.  (But wouldn't it be sort of divine if they did?)

Pooh-pooh me if you like, but I look at it like these gifted individuals just have a skill set I don't have.  They left channels open that I closed, or they received expanded perception through some energy blast that cracked through panes of space and time. 

So I called up my home boys, stylist James Leland Day (more about him in a future blog) and artist Theo Edmonds (whom you've read about here), and we met up at the good Café Verlet.

It was in my old neighborhood.  I'd walked by it a million times.  How had I missed it?

Letter From Paris: On Location--Galerie Vero-Dodat 2

Yes, I had to return to the scene of the aesthetic at the Galerie Vero-Dodat (pictured on right) in Paris's 1st Arrondissement.  The images were too good--too luscious in art and style to keep from you.  (If you happened to miss the previous Vero-Dodat blog, click here.)

These are the windows of an art gallery on the left side of the passage, if one has entered from the rue Croix des Petits Champs.  It was showing decorative arts--as in these chairs--and sexy sophisticated images, one of which you'll find below.

Art & Chairs (with reflection of floor) in the Galerie Vero-Dodat  (Above)

Letter From Paris: Variations on A Model Theme

Image via Wikipedia

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

Image via Wikipedia

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

Image via Wikipedia

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