High Culture

I went to see the exhibit titled « Personnes, Monumenta 2010 » by Christian Boltanski at the Grand Palais. When I entered the Grand Palais the first thing that I heard was a harsh thumping noise and the first thing I saw was a wall of rusty boxes that extended to the ceiling with a bit of lighting over them. This wall blocked the view of the rest of the room so in order for the spectators to see we all had to move around the wall. Once I moved around the wall I could see a big room of steel and clothes, I felt a sudden coldness. In the center there was a pile of many pieces of old clothes that reached high to the ceiling. On top of that pile of clothes was a crane that lowered every couple of minutes to pick up clothes from that pile and lift them just to drop them again.


Before getting to the big impressive pile of clothes that took up the whole center of the room there were squares of strategically placed garments of clothes that laid on the floor. Each squared space had four posts clearly marking the area and also had speakers that kept repeating that same harsh thumping sound. As we walked around the exhibit I had one image in my mind, the holocaust. Seeing all of the clothes laying on the floor and in that massive pile made me think of the time I visited the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC where I saw the pile of shoes in a specific dark room. But I still didn’t understand the thumping noise echoing in the large room.
It wasn’t until I explored more of the exhibit that I noticed that the loud thumping noise was the heart beating fast. There was even a room where we could also record our own heartbeat. The message was becoming a bit clearer to me. It was about humanity.
Reading the articles about the exhibit at the Grand Palais by Christian Boltanski brought a clearer understanding of his message through his art. Ghislaine Dunant wrote an article in Le Monde newspaper titled “Christian Boltanski et les monstrueux vêtements de la mémoire” where Dunant went into detail of Boltanski’s goal to portray the lack of humanity in history. Dunant goes on to explain Boltanski’s fascination with history and the word Shoah, which is Hebrew for destruction and dehumanization. Boltanski aimed to remember those who were victims of inhumane treatment through those beating heartbeats and showcase of clothes that were once worn by those victims.
In an art blog titled “Boltanski People” Max Mulhern wrote about the concept of the crane, which I found very interesting especially when he tied it to a Disney movie, Toy Story. Mulhern wrote, “The claw is our master,” to show that someone else controlled the people that once wore these clothes at one point just like the claw controls what it brings up. Mulhern concluded that the heart was the big machine in this exhibit and as long as there is a heart beating it will be capable of causing horrific events of dehumanization.
I had not read the articles before I went to the exhibit so when I arrived I didn’t quite understand the concept or goal of the exhibit. I found it very interesting to read about the meaning especially having studied such an important event in our history such as the holocaust where we can see a clear example of dehumanization.

Impressions of a New Culture

I was lucky enough to stay at a distant relative's home for about two weeks before I moved into the Bastille and I learned quite a bit at her place. Although she is Mexican she is now married to a French man who doesn't speak English or Spanish so I got to practice my French with them while at their home and at dinner. I also learned a lot about French homestyle. The Mexican traditional man is considered as the Macho Man, the bread winner if you will, and therefore the woman is responsible of taking care of the children and the household while the man is at work. In my own household in San Diego it is NOT rare for my dad to be cooking but it IS rare for him to be cleaning the kitchen and washing the dishes. I observed the family I stayed with and they shared all household duties. They both worked and both washed dishes, cooked, vacuumed, and went shopping for groceries. What seems so logical to me was also so strange to see in action.

I have moved into my room near the Bastille, which is a quarter of Paris in the 11th arrondissement. Paris is divided into 20 arrondissements beginning with the very first one in the heart and center of Paris where the cathedral Notre Dame and the famous museum that houses the infamous painting by Leonardo Da Vinci, La Joconde, or more famous among us Americans, the Mona Lisa rests, the Louvre. The arrondissements disperse in numerical order from the center and out in a snail like matter.



So technically speaking I'm relatively close to the center, meaning walking distance to the Notre Dame and many major historical buildings. Place de la Bastille, alone has very significant history in the French civilization. Here is where the Bastille prison stood and where the famous "storming of the Bastille" took place on 14 July 1789. Today this quarter hold lots of that remembrance of the past but has mixed it with the new and modern amenities such as shops like Sephora and American fast foods like McDonalds, Subway, and Starbucks. Not that this quarter doesn't hold the special French charm with its local small cafes and small alleys leading to more shops and street life, this quarter is the place to be for a student like me.

I started school today and I have to say I really didn't want to start yesterday but today I am happy to be back in school. I needed structure in my life once again. After a month of being in Paris I have come to realize quite a bit in the past month and I am happy to have school to clarify the cultural differences I had not noticed before. Deeper issues that circulate the French government on a daily basis are what have got me conflicted. For example the whole Burka business here in France. Before this trip I never realized the significance of this issue in France relative to the world and of the women subjected to wearing burkas. This issue made me realize that Paris isn't really this magical place where everything is peachy and keen. Real problems of security exist all over the world.

In San Diego I had never really noticed burkas out on the streets and I always thought that if the women decided to wear it, it was her choice and that choice should be respected. What I didn't realize was the significance of the burkas as an image and issue of oppression of the woman. The security of France is being compromised because of the burka because of France's president decision to prohibit women to be oppressed by being forced to wear the burka. That decision has provoked threats to the security of France. I would have never known the significance of a burka in San Diego.