Paris - Fashion and Radiation

A scour of the internet found an exhibition that I thought would be great fun, "Stephen Jones, Chapeau d'Artiste." Stephen Jones designs hats. Not just hats, though, hats as works of art. This exhibition at the Pallais Galliera traced his beginnings, his rise to fame, his influences and his collaborations. It was a giant celebration of imagination and whimsy - just my cup of tea.

I arrived about 30 minutes early for my timed ticket, so I had a wander through what was the biggest street market I've ever seen. It was easily a quarter of a mile long, if not more and mostly featured fresh produce, cheese, meat, and fish. There were some stand where you could buy prepared food and lots of artisans selling clothing, jewelry, home goods, accessories and flowers.

Parisians from around the area all had their wheeled bags and were stocking up. Anyway, it was an enjoyable way to kill time. My ticket time arrived and I entered the Palais Galliera.

Stephen Jones was born in Liverpool and the colors of the seaside and the birds there influenced him as did visits to art galleries and museums with his mother. He earned a degree in fashion design from St. Martin's School of Art in London and it was there that he discovered the London punk subculture. One of his tutors arranged for him to take a trainee position at Maison Lachasse where he went on to apprentice with Shirley Hex in the hat department.

He made hats for Pet Shop Boys' Neil Tennant and denizens of the Roxy punk club. His hats were wild, imaginative and fun.

There were three wonderful videos of Stephen Jones. As much as he presents a rather delicate persona, he is obviously filled with confidence and a creative spark that keeps him innovative and his work original.

The last part of the exhibition was dedicated to hats he has created for runway shows in collaboration with other designers.

Another exhibition at the Palais Galliera was "Fashion on the Move" and was an examination of how fashion has changed over time to suit an active lifestyle. It wasn't nearly as compelling as Stephen Jones but the last bit, a look at swimwear over time, was interesting.

I left the Palais Galliera via the lovely courtyard

and headed to the Musee d'Art Moderne de Paris (the Paris Modern Art Museum). Their featured exhibition was L'age Atomique (The Atomic Age). According to the museum

The exhibition invites the public to explore the artistic representations inspired by the scientific discovery of the atom and its applications, in particular the nuclear bomb whose devastating consequences changed the destiny of humanity.

Sunny Day by Mikhail Labonov 1913-14:

Atomic N 2 by Minoru Nakahara (1925):

"Radium Dance" by Loïe Fuller was a performance piece from 1911 featuring Fuller dancing in a costume sprinkled with pitchblende salt, a radioactive uranium ore. There was only one performance and there is no photographic evidence of it, but one hundred years or so later, artist Pierre Hyeghe revisited the idea. Wearing a phosphorescent dress, Jenny Jaskey, curator of Hyeghe's exhibition at the Artist's Institute in New York, performed improvised choreography in the dark while Hyeghe took photographs.

This series, "Uranium" by Sigmar Polke was made by placing uranium salts on a photosensitive surface.

Bombhead by Bruce Connor (2002):

The pieces I found most affecting were those done by Japanese artists based on stories of survivors of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. They were horrible stories and the work, though mostly abstract, was sometimes graphic. These were very personal stories and it felt disrespectful to photograph them, so I didn't.

The Unthinkable or: The Uncertainty of Yes in the Face of the Uncertainty of No by Roberto Matta (1958):

I'll build a Stairway to Paradise by Jim Shaw (2022):

Late Stage of Baker by Charles Bittinger (1946):

The part of the exhibition that I found most depressing was the wall dedicated to the American "normalization" of the atomic bomb and America's power. It featured pictures of beauty queens vying for the title of "Miss Atomic Bomb" or "Miss Geiger Counter", soldiers and airmen posing proudly by planes, newspaper articles touting the US nuclear capabilities and this photo, which I found particularly insensitive.

There were several films, one of which showed an atomic bomb being tested on Bikini Atoll shot from different angles by planes nearby. The footage was in slow motion so you could watch as ships capsized and the fireball and cloud of destruction slowly spread. In addition, throughout the exhibition were sound effects of bombs exploding, people screaming, and a kind of angry white noise, if such a thing is possible. I'm not sure what I was expecting of this exhibition, but I found it interesting, disturbing, moving and, ultimately, quite depressing.

I took a bit of time to sit and look out the window at the bright Parisian day to try to burn the darkness away, then went downstairs to view some of the regular collection. Some pieces I particularly like follow.

Escale by Andre Lhote (1913):

Portrait of Professor Bohn by Mela Muta (around 1936):

Two Spanish Women by Natalia Gontcharova (around 1930):

Portrait of Marc Chagall by Pablo Gargallo (1933):

FM 1 by Albert Ohlen (2008):

I left the museum - the back of it is quite dramatic -

and caught sight of the Eiffel tower.

Before I headed to the Metro for the long trip to the hotel, I stopped off for un verre de vin at a sidewalk café.

How very French.