The Battle of Cubism

Sometimes I feel like I’m at war with Paris, and today was another one of those days. I decided to go to the Picasso museum before my French lesson at 4:00. I think the collection was donated by Picasso’s wife and daughter, and I like the idea of seeing what Picasso kept for himself. Plus, the collection is housed in an old mansion in the Marsais district, and I have a soft spot for museums in residences. It seems so much more romantic and really, that’s where it was meant to be.

I found the Picasso museum easily on a sunny morning among the up and coming designer shops and falafel stands. It was closed, like the Griswolds at Walley World closed. Apparently, it closed this summer and won’t reopen until 2012. I found this information on another small sign posted to the door. There was so little information that I questioned its authenticity, but the doors were definitely locked. I had mentioned that I was headed there to a shop keeper on my way, she just smiled. Advantage – Paris.

But I wasn’t going to let Paris win the battle for my Tuesday that easily so I went to Geraldine’s for my French lesson with a can do attitude. My ridiculously limited French is my biggest liability in this war, but I will eventually conquer. Geraldine believes in positive reinforcement. She says I have great pronunciation, but I don’t understand a word. I’m like a parrot. All day, it’s “bonjour” and “merci”.

Afterwards, I went to the Musee National d'Art Moderne in the Centre Georges Pompidou. It’s open late on Tuesdays so I had the time. Despite my morning mishap, I still saw around 20 Picasso’s, plus Matisse, and Gris, and Braque, and Mondrian. The collection was enormous, impressive, and at times bizarre. So much of modern art is in the process. The expression should be viewed through the lens of the experience. Knowing this, it is significant, and slightly demented, that I still refused the audio guide. Generally, I’m against any sort of tour. Those audio tours tend to distract me, diminishing my experience of the art and pissing me off. It’s like a sermon in church. You can only tell me to think so much before I reject everything out of principle. You can see my dilemma. I wandered through the museum viewing the art with ignorance, or innocence depending on your point of view. Some of it seemed silly and arrogant, others profound and groundbreaking.

As you can imagine, the morning fiasco left me feeling a tad negative about Picasso. But he is extraordinary. Many artists of the early 20th century practiced similar techniques, but Picasso’s vision was undeniable. When discussing other artists’ work, Picasso once said it is easy to make a thing pretty when someone else has already discovered it. You could see his struggle and the depth it created in his work. Others seemed aesthetic, while Picasso’s work had the emotional strength that only comes with meaning. Tuesday turned out to be a pretty bon jour indeed.

I don't know why I didn't take any pictures in the museum, but here are some of the Centre Georges Pompidou, where the museum is housed. It was designed by Renzo Piano in 1977 as a study of exoskeleton architecture (bones on the outside). All the systems are on the exterior and color coded. Of course, people love it and hate it in equal measure. I kind of love it.