nuit blanche

from my journal, written with a pen i'd borrowed from a kind parisienne:
" 5000-10000 red umbrellas, unlit, on a hillside-somewhere between Mariko Mori and Yayoi Kusama...less garish (guerre-ish), more modestly poetic. but somehow, for all it's static-ness, not un-lively." i believe i meant, there were no flashing lights, no looky-loos milling around, nothing automated... but the way they were poised on the hillside there, they seemed to be hiding thousands of little children. they were alive in that we anticipated their animation...
"paired with the pond-strobe lighting, flickering away across the pat, and the general hum of life-swarms of parisians abound- they were elevated to something of the staid, elegant spectator--maybe not unlike the woman in red (from 90210) at the Vivienne Westwood show last night.
and up the hill, in the fields, sprouted several hundred desk lamps. strange autumn daffodils? they're terrifically awkward, unsightly almost, with the Paris skyline backdrop and the park's evergreens in the nearer background. i'm thrilled for the moment to be here alone (surrounded by thousands). ..as a quiet observer of couples necking, screaming babies, foreign exchange students, the Japanese tourists.
my front tire fell off on the way over. apparently, the bolts had come loose...by some strange miracle though, i happened upon a cell phone repair shop (still open at 10pm) staffed by avid bike enthusiasts. they just happened to have a repair kit, tool box...

it took an hour to bike to Theatre Châtelet, or rather where i thought the theatre was. after milling around the station area behind Pompidou and realizing nothing good could possibly come of being there (it's akin to Old City Philadelphia, or the Marina or SOMA in SF), i set off to see the Janet Cardiff installation at Eglise Saint Severen (c.1495). The choir in Cathedral architecture is generally located in the western part of the nave, seperated by the nave itself by a wood or stone screen. And of course a choir sings in union, in harmony to or with the mass/es, creating one voice. In Cardiff's installation, the viewer/listener is surrounded by speakers--in the space where there would be pews--projecting the individual choir membors voices."
when i've sung in church, i'm aware first of my own voice, of my neighbors' voices, and then the harmony of the choir's voice as it merges with that of the mass. although, in Baptist Church, growing up, i do recall this one older woman who had a remarkably high and warbly voice. i don't know why it always stuck out to me...it wasn't unpleasantly shrill or anything, just distinct.
"and that we are free to roam around the space insists we find a new relationship to the Eglise itself," and to the individual voices.
from the entrance, and from the exit, the choir is just that--one harmonious voice. Cardiff's vocal isolation technique individuates the members of that choral body and offers us the chance
to really know those singers. i was clearly moved by the experience. listening for meaning in so many individual voices is overwhelming and exhilerating . i imagine it's that sort of ecstatic experience that inspired such grand cathedrals. and i think it's what one seeks out, in going to church in the first place.

all told, Nuit Blanche was like an art fair or biennial on opening day + new orleans mardi gras + "two street" around new years, in french . from 7pm-6am special projects are open throughout the entire city, and the museums are open for free . mostly, the projects are oasise from the street/bar mania, and are worth the trek . however, if you can imagine art basel miami happening during ...i dunno... spring break, you've got the picture .

and... speaking of which, my camera died early on last night . however, i'm sure there's no shortage of images online and movies on youtube by now.