Apr

Creativity’s Corner: Where Art Meets Wordplay

by Sheron Long on April 17, 2014

Creative painting and word play by John Langdon showing the word "ME" set against the sky and the word "YOU" formed by the spaces inside the letters M and E. (Image © John Langdon)

“US”
© John Langdon

Look . . . and Look Again at John Langdon’s Illusions and Ambigrams

In life (and at OIC), you often get the invitation to consider new perspectives, to see things from different points of view. Today’s invitation is to a place where the visual and the verbal play together in the work of John Langdon. And the souvenir you take home is a hidden, often deeper meaning.

Let the games begin: How does the painting above fit its title, “US”?

Sheron Long Comments

The World's Art & Design/Wordplay

Apr

Tour 13 Paris: The Ephemeral Nature of Street Art

by Meredith Mullins on April 9, 2014

Colorful portrait by B Toy and rubble after the first phase of demolition of the Tour 13 in Paris, proving the fleeting nature of street art. (Photo © Galerie Itinerrance)

The beginning of the demolition of B Toy’s work at the Tour 13
© Galerie Itinerrance

The Long-Awaited Demolition: The Walls Come Tumbling Down

Art is fleeting. It lives for the moment.

Sometimes the artist, like Claude Monet in his later years, punctures holes in his paintings because he doubts himself. The work is destroyed before it’s ever seen.

Sometimes the life cycle of artistic expression is determined by the whim of contemporary tastes.

Sometimes an artist, like sculptor Andy Goldsworthy, creates the work to purposefully evolve over time, with nature as a collaborator. Stones are smoothed by water. Ice melts. Wood rots. Leaves wither. Life. Decay. Death. A natural cycle.

Sometimes the act of destruction is part of the work itself.

Street art, by its very nature, is ephemeral. Graffiti artists make transience their creed. They work quickly, often stealthily.

Their art and tags get painted over in days (or even hours!) They don’t get attached. They speak to the moment and move on.

These truths were the foundation for the Tour 13 in Paris.

Running rabbits, artistic expression of street art at the Tour 13 (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

The wild stampeding rabbits by Pantonio from Portugal.
Photo © Meredith Mullins

The Birth and Death of the Tour 13

Last year, more than 100 graffiti artists from around the world were gathered together by Mehdi Ben Cheikh of the Galerie Itinerrance in Paris and were given freedom of expression in a building targeted for demolition. OIC covered the event in its October story.

Faces inside the Tour 13 in Paris, a haven for street art and graffiti artist Jimmy C (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

The original artwork on the 8th floor of the Tour 13
© Meredith Mullins

As the artists took over the 36 multi-room apartments and a labyrinth of basements—and painted everything from closets to kitchens to toilets to radiators, to say whatever they wanted however they wanted—the last act of the story was already written. The art would not last.

A portrait by street artist Jimmy C in the Tour 13 in Paris, showing the fleeting nature of street art (Photo © Galerie Itinerrance)

What’s left after the first phase of demolition
© Galerie Itinerrance

Everyone knew the dilapidated building would be destroyed. The community of artists, who worked for free, knew it. The 25,000 visitors, who waited in line for up to 13 hours to see the amazing installation, knew it. The nearly half a million visitors to the social media sites knew it.

So, it is no surprise this week that the walls will come tumbling down, the final part of the demolition.

Side of the Tour 13 in Paris after the first phase of demolition, proving the fleeting nature of street art (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

The destruction of the building (and the art) was part of the plan.
© Meredith Mullins

The Demolition

It is not so much a “tumbling” as it is a “nibbling.” To create an experience unlike any other, a crane will snack on the remaining exterior walls little by little, revealing the interior walls, floors, and ceilings for one final look. A retrospective of the most unusual kind.

A crane destroys the Tour 13 in Paris, revealing 8 stories of street art. (Photo © Pamela Fickes-Miller)

The “nibbler”
© Pamela Fickes-Miller

The art that was once on the closets, bathtubs, radiators, sinks, and windows has already been destroyed. The windows have been knocked out. Piles of rubble inside and outside the building, with chunks of bright color, reveal hints of that progress.

An exterior wall of the Tour 13 in Paris with a pile of rubble, proving that artistic expression is fleeting in the world of street art. (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

Remnants of artistic expression in the rubble
© Meredith Mullins

No Regrets

Oh I see. There is no sadness in saying goodbye. This is life, as street art.

A1one art at the Tour 13 in Paris, a street art project (Photo © Galerie Itinerrance)

The work of Iranian street artist A1one after the first phase of demolition.
© Galerie Itinerrance

For the Iranian artist A1one, the art was so fleeting, he didn’t even have time to finish his room last year when he was in Paris. Then, he lost touch with the tower’s unfolding story. Now that he has heard about the destruction, he speaks with the heart of a true street artist:

“Cool. I didn’t know it was being destroyed. I like it when my works fall down. I hope we learn from it. Huge things can easily fall down in a glance.”

Mehdi Ben Cheikh feels the same about this final stage. “I’m glad of it,” he says with no nostalgia. “It’s part of the project—the ephemeral nature of street art.”

Mehdi Ben Cheikh, founder of the Tour 13 in Paris, a project that gave voice to street art and street artists around the world. (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

Mehdi Ben Cheikh—Street Art Crusader
© Meredith Mullins

However, Mehdi—always a street-art crusader—has an eye toward the future of this kind of artistic expression.

“As with any great art movement, institutions are always one step behind,” Mehdi says. “They offer so little exposure to street art, even though it surrounds us in urban life. Although this project is at an end, it opens the door to new projects about to happen.”

Out of the rubble . . . who knows what will emerge.

What we do know, however, is that long after the Tour 13 is gone, it will be remembered.

Street art near the Tour 13 in Paris, showing Pantonio's artistic expression (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

A hint of Pantonio’s rabbits (alive and well) in the neighborhood
© Meredith Mullins

The “nibbling” is taking place this week and will be shown via live camera on the Tour 13 website, on the Tour 13 Facebook page, and on French television and on YouTube.

Thank you to Elsa Courtois and Mehdi Ben Cheikh of Galerie Itinerrance and Pamela Fickes-Miller for contributing to this story.

The Tour 13 demolition in Paris proves the fleeting nature of street art (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

Au revoir Tour 13
© Meredith Mullins

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Meredith Mullins 2 Comments

France (Paris)/The World's Art & Design

Mar

The Odyssey of an Obelisk: Luxor to Place de la Concorde

by Meredith Mullins on March 20, 2014

Luxor obelisk at the Place de la Concorde in Paris, a story that makes you see things differently when you know how hard it was to get it to Paris. (Image © Vitaly Edush/iStock)

The Luxor obelisk at Place de la Concorde
© Vitaly Edush/iStock

Curiosity Inspires Us to See Things Differently in Paris

You can’t miss it. The Luxor obelisk rises 75 feet from the center of the Place de la Concorde in Paris, taller than anything in the neighborhood.

I have passed this gold-tipped monolith a thousand times, on its little island in the middle of frenzied Paris traffic.

I noted it as one of those odd Paris monuments—a bit discordant with its surroundings, but somehow fitting in—like the Louvre Pyramid; the too colorful, externally piped Pompidou Center; and the mother of them all, the Eiffel Tower.

Luxor Obelisk at sunset at the Place de la Concorde in Paris, inspiration to see things differently when you look closely. (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

The obelisk is a monument that’s often seen, but not too many people know about its challenging journey to Paris.
© Meredith Mullins

A Closer Look at the Luxor Obelisk

Though I formed fleeting impressions of the obelisk, I never really stopped or studied. I thought it was a replica, perhaps a tribute to cross-cultural relations or a reminder of Napoleon’s early conquests in Egypt.

What I didn’t know is that the obelisk is the real deal—more than 3,000 years old—one of the original entry pylons from Egypt’s Temple of Luxor.

Oh, I see: You can pass something everyday and not know much about its character until you really look. Curiosity often rewards us with incredible tales of adventure.

So . . . just how did a 250-ton piece of granite make its way to Paris using the tools available in the early 19th century?

The voyage was, by all accounts, impossible. The challenges were insurmountable. And yet, thanks to a few courageous and persistent people, the obelisk stands tall in its Paris home.

A Job for the French Navy

In 1830, Egypt gave the gift of two obelisks as a thank you to France for help in modernizing the country. The offer of such an antiquity was an honor. Then, reality set in.

No one believed that it was possible to lower the granite monolith from its long-time position at Luxor, transport it from one continent to another, and raise it upright again in Paris without breaking it.

The Temple of Luxor, with an entry obelisk, the beginning of the journey of the Luxor obelisk to Place de la Concorde in Paris and a way to see differently. (Photo © Medioimages/Photodisc)

The French Navy came to the rescue. Naval engineer Apollinaire Lebas, and his team sailed to Egypt in the Luxor, arriving in 1831. They then proceeded to restructure the ship to accommodate the tall and heavy “needle” and to build a sled and wooden path to drag the obelisk to the ship, all with the help of Egyptian workers.

When all was ready, they carefully lowered the obelisk to the ground, with a complex system of ropes, wood support, and sheer manual strength; but at the last moment, the timbers snapped, and it fell to the ground—thankfully still in one piece.

By the time they finally loaded the obelisk onto the ship, the waters of the Nile were too low to travel. The crew waited six months for the river to rise, and passed the time by exploring archaeological sites and tombs and collecting artifacts for museums and their “personal collections.”

The Luxor finally set sail, but by the time the ship reached the mouth of the Nile, the water was too low to proceed over the final sandbar.

Another wait, a cholera epidemic, the long sail through the Mediterranean, several ports of refuge in the Atlantic, the final trip down the Seine . . . and the difficult journey was complete.

Hieroglyphics on the Luxor obelisk at the Place de la Concorde in Paris, a story that helps us see things differently (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

The hieroglyphics on the Luxor obelisk tell stories of the pharaohs’ exploits and pay tribute to the gods.
© Meredith Mullins

The Talk of the Town

Things in the capital were not quiet while waiting for the ship. King Louis-Philippe and the usual interested parties—urban planners, city officials, Egyptologists, writers, and poets—were busy debating where to place the obelisk.

Model monoliths were constructed out of wood and cardboard and placed in the two most likely spots (Place de la Concorde and Invalides). Parisians had time to let the view sink in.

In reality, Louis-Philippe had already decided on Place de la Concorde. He wanted that square to be known for the new obelisk, not for the guillotine that put so many to death in that spot during the Revolution.

Gold images at the base of the Luxor obelisk at Place de la Concorde in Paris, part of the story to see things differently about the obelisk journey. (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

A history of the Place de la Concorde installation in 1836,
engraved in gold at the base of the obelisk
© Meredith Mullins

The Day of Reckoning

The obelisk was finally ready for its grand debut in October, 1836. A crowd of 200,000 gathered to witness the historic (and dangerous) event.

Apollinaire Lebas was there, directing the operation. In true navy-captain fashion, he stood directly under the obelisk as it was raised, ready to “go down with the ship” should anything go awry.

After a few tense course corrections, broken bolts, and strained ropes, the obelisk was finally straightened and stabilized. The king gave the signal; and the crowd, after three hours of suspenseful silence, erupted in applause.

The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Egyptian obelisks were a more common gift (or object of pillage) than one might imagine. Today, ancient obelisks reside in France, England, Turkey, Italy, and the United States, perhaps a result of the old adage “If you can get it to your country, it’s yours.”

Obelisk in Central Park in New York, one of several gifted to foreign countries, part of the story to make us see differently about the tales of the obelisks. (Photo © bwzenith/iStock)

For France, one obelisk was enough. After the seven-year ordeal for the first obelisk, no French officials were anxious to undertake those challenges again. In 1981, President Mitterrand officially “returned” the second obelisk, diplomatically suggesting it stay in its country of origin.

The top of the obelisk at the Place de la Concorde in Paris, part of the story that makes us see things differently. (Photo © Meredith Mullins)

In 1998, the obelisk received a new “crown” of gilt bronze,
identical to the original one in its early life in Egypt.
© Meredith Mullins

Wisdom of the Ages

Is there a moral to the obelisk tale of adventure? Yes. Persistence. Patience. Problem solving prowess. All good virtues.

For me, inspired to see things differently, two other messages leap out.

Backstories are fascinating. I am making a vow to “stop and study” more often.

On the subject of gifts: If someone offers a 75-foot, 250-ton piece of carved antiquity, it may be best to politely negotiate for something more manageable.

Obelisk at the Piazza del Popolo in Rome, one of the obelisks outside the Place de la Concorde in Paris, a way to see differently about the distribution of obelisks. (Photo © Danieloncarevic/iStock)

“The Voyage of the Obelisk” at the Musée national de la Marine is on exhibit until July 6, 2014. To learn more about Place de la Concorde and see other Paris monuments, visit Paris Info.

Comment on this post below.

Meredith Mullins 4 Comments

Egypt/France (Paris)/The World's Art & Design

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