click on any of the pics for larger versions
I took these shots 2 years ago and they still startle me. In Paris the world boils over, the commodified contradictions of street and art match up and leave a wrecked plaza and a ghost of a party in their wake.
Splashes of color, dregs of beer bleed into puddles and mix heavily with the ennui of an overcast lonely day. In the best nights the Parisian youth come together and turn this plaza into an anarchist circus, with wild haired girls spinning fire and knotting together over jokes and canteens and shared histories of focused moments. The morning is left to sift through their debris.
But I guess things got a little out of hand this day. The saddened walls know they'll be scrubbed, and other painters with hangovers more slight will take out their revelry on stoic history, on buildings that speak of permanence and wisdom and statues that speak of glory and reason. Neither the institution nor the burning will of the radical triumphs.
Truth is I'm lonely, thats why I'm looking over old photos, anyway.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Palais de Tokyo Massacre
Labels:
Art,
global art,
nihilism,
Perception,
Photography,
sublime,
Time,
travel
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1 comment:
we can be lonely together...
lonely vandals that is. ;) let's go paint the town pink.
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