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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

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Antoine Rose Catches the Bird’s-Eye View of Miami

by Sheron Long on March 27, 2014

"Insectarium," image of bathers, beach chairs, and umbrellas above Miami Beach, from a creative photography series taken by Antoine Rose, whose creative process relies on the bird's-eye view  (Image © Antoine Rose)

Insectarium
© Antoine Rose

Creative Photography from Up in the Air

Strapped outside a vibrating helicopter hovering 300 feet over terra firma, Antoine Rose views his playground below. Unlike other photographers who focus and click, Rose engages in a more difficult creative process:

“I have to mix all sorts of tasks in nearly real time: guiding the pilot; having the right lens; being sure that the camera settings are set up properly; concentrating on the light, the subject, the framing; discussing with the tower control to get clearance.”

Somehow he syncs it up, and the result is a new perspective in creative photography for his Up in the Air Miami series on display from February 27–May 3, 2014, at the Emmanuel Fremin Gallery in New York.

Antoine Rose tethered to a helicopter while shooting bird's-eye view photographs for his creative photography series "Up in the Air."  (Image © Simon Cramar)

Antoine Rose shooting completely vertical aerial photographs
from a helicopter above Saint-Moritz
© Simon Cramar

It Started with a Love of the Sea

That love took Rose, born in Belgium, around the world as the official photographer of the Kiteboarding World Cup (2002–2005). Always looking for new vantage points, he developed  an aerial “onboard” camera system that was attached to the lines of the kite and remote-controlled from the beach.

The photographs that resulted were an inspiration for more aerial work. At the 2002 World Cup in Rio, Rose boarded a doorless helicopter and took his first aerial photographs of the Copacabana beaches. An “Oh, I see” moment, this experience was, in his words, “the start of a journey.”

Like many artists, Rose’s creative process evolved across years:

“It took me 12 years to fine-tune the process. Anyone can rent a chopper and take some great photography, but I wanted to take fully vertical shots that are difficult from an unstable helicopter. The landing skids are always in the frame!”

"Turquoise," image of beach chairs and umbrellas on Miami Beach, from a creative photography series taken by Antoine Rose, whose creative process relies on the bird's-eye view  (Image © Antoine Rose)

Turquoise
© Antoine Rose

Dedicated to a Different Perspective

The appeal of Rose’s vertical photographs derives from their bird’s-eye view and the technique of a fearless photographer. Surely, as Rose says, “to be strapped outside a helicopter is not for the faint of heart,” but it is what gives his work such an eye-catching perspective.

The completely vertical view excludes the sky, imposing only two fields on his compositions—the ocean and the beach. In “Turquoise” (above) the two fields are in contrast: the irregular field of the ocean swirls while the umbrellas and sunbeds seem purposely placed on the beach field, cueing a sense of calm.

Other works use only one field—in “Red District” and “Orchestra,” the beach is the backdrop for geometry at play.

"Red District," image of red umbrellas and beach chairs on Miami Beach, from a creative photography series taken by Antoine Rose, whose creative process relies on the bird's-eye view (Image © Antoine Rose)

Red District
© Antoine Rose

"Orchestra," image of blue and yellow umbrellas on Miami Beach, from a creative photography series taken by Antoine Rose, whose creative process relies on the bird's-eye view  (Image © Antoine Rose)

Orchestra
© Antoine Rose

The appeal of these photographs comes from both the geometric arrangements and the transformation of real-life objects into miniatures. The photographs then become more like abstract paintings that can be rotated and displayed in four different ways, according to the viewer’s preference.

Making It Happen in Miami

Miami is the fourth setting in Rose’s Up in the Air series. After three series set in the New York area, Rose wanted to try something different, more geometric to reflect his attraction to abstraction and minimalism. The hotels and private beaches along the Miami shore offered the visual interest.

Rose does not stage his shots. Instead, he wants to keep the spontaneity intact as he comes across views from above. He liked the pink monochrome look when he saw this view of Miami Beach, so appealing to the senses that he named the resulting photograph “Beach Candies.”

"Beach Candies," image of pink umbrellas on Miami Beach, from a creative photography series taken by Antoine Rose, whose creative process relies on the bird's-eye view  (Image © Antoine Rose)

Beach Candies
© Antoine Rose

As with most creative endeavors, the Miami project took persistence. He scheduled his first shoot for July 4, 2013, to have as many people as possible on the beach. But the capricious weather did not cooperate, handing him less-than-optimal conditions. He returned, crossing the Atlantic twice in 24 hours, and still no pictures. Finally, he got a good day when conditions were great. . . . and so were the photographs.

His compositions are oversized panoramas, some up to 10 feet wide. Both the size and perspective contribute to a statement about the place of people, seen as insignificant dots, in the infinite space of the universe.

"Miami Shore," image of bathers at Miami Beach, from a creative photography series taken by Antoine Rose, whose creative process relies on the bird's-eye view  (Image © Antoine Rose)

Miami Shore
© Antoine Rose

Ready for the Next Challenge

Last month, Rose began a new and very difficult shooting over New York City—4200 feet at night. It was –20 degrees Celsius outside, and two of his fingers froze. But flying in the dark over the city that never sleeps was magical:

“I’ve spent so many days walking around the endless streets as a tourist in New York. But seeing it at such heights (the altitude of airplanes in their final approach), you get an understanding of how tiny we are!”

The love Rose has for his work comes through. Not only is it rewarding to him when a happy collector hangs one of his pieces on a wall, bringing color and joy to an interior, but he also loves this about his work:

“The creative process and the challenge to accomplish something that seems impossible. . . . I have some projects in mind that are not possible to realize due to budget issues or regulations. I just love to try and remove all those barriers and make it happen, even if it’s a ten-year journey!” 

The night photography journey began during his shoots for the Miami series. In the creative mind, new works often stand on the shoulders of prior works— Rose’s next series of creative photography may well offer nighttime landscapes and surely with the bird’s-eye view.

His creativity, like the chopper from which he shoots, is one thing that never stands still.

"Pinball," nighttime aerial image of Miami, from a creative photography series taken by Antoine Rose, whose creative process relies on the bird's-eye view  (Image © Antoine Rose)

Pinball
nighttime view of Miami © Antoine Rose

 Keep up-to-date on the latest work by Antoine Rose on FacebookSee all Up in the Air photos here“Red Carpet” from Up in the Air The Hamptons was recently acquired by the Museum of Arts and Design in NY.

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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 eastern obelisk at the Luxor Temple in Egypt
© Medioimages/Photodics

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)

Paris isn’t the only city with an obelisk. Egypt gifted the U.S. also (Central Park/New York).
© 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)

Rome, too, has several obelisks. It’s surprising any are left in Egypt.
© 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.

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