In the Rain, In Montparnasse

No takers for Le Select's terrace on Wednesday.

Trying To Line Up Free Cheese

Paris:- Monday, 4. October 1999:- It is a little over two months now that I have been living near Montparnasse. Last Wednesday I decided to visit the small museums there because they are handy.

Because they are small too, they don't have over-active PR, so visits are necessary to find out what they're doing. Visits are also friendlier.

It was either raining or about to and there were no palm trees in the weather forecast's temperature ranges, so I took the bus. This gave me a chance to see the glistening black sidewalks of the Boulevard Saint-Michel. Passing by the end of the Luxembourg Gardens, the views of it were hidden by the mists. Gloom in the near distance and plenty of water in the gutters.

This is not a problem if dressed properly for it. I have a hat because it is something that my head carries and I have a coat, and walking does the rest for keeping warm.

Wind was blowing excess water around a lot; it was coming sideways as well as down in a slant. With no umbrella my hands were free to shoot the interesting sights rain produces, but the modern camera is more delicate than the old hand-wind ones made largely of metal and glass. The user's manual says beware of explosions.

It kind of goes with our times. We are 'modern' and our stuff may explode at any time. Before, we wanted solid reliability; now we can hear the bomb ticking. It makes life exciting in a sordid way.

Headline - in the 'faits divers' section: "Foreigner blown to smithereens in the Rue d'Assas by defective photo apparatus. Police and the fire department are investigating, but really don't have a clue about what happened or why."

Why? I was just shooting the Académie Sculpture in the Rue de la Grande Chaumière, and the restaurant and the shoe repair place. I didn't realize I was in a high-risk zone.

The Musée Zadkine in the Rue d'Assas has the most unpromising public entry in Paris. It starts with a space between two buildings - an alley - but as you get in, it turns into a wet jungle. Only hope can keep you going further until you see the forest-path wooden signpost, pointing to another dim back garden.

The museum is an old house in a 'L' with a separate annex. The interior garden is spotted with Zadkine sculptures and a lot of vegetation and there is a stone path to follow to the museum's entry.

Inside it is like a house; one with light and heat. Because of the 'L' shape, you can look out through the garden, into other parts of the galleries. Like the other time I was at it, there were a number of people there who were not discouraged by the entry and were ready to tour the museum.

The lady who I talked to the time before said, "We know you, don't we?" The other time it took me 20 minutes of fast talking to get anywhere. I guess she didn't forget it. I haven't.

The Zadkine is a gallery that features good modern sculpture. When I say 'good,' I mean it makes you feel good to look at it rather than wonder if there might be something more interesting in some other museum or gallery.

The current 'Demures' - 'Walls' - show ends soon and the reason I've come is to find out what will follow. I meet the museum's curator and she introduces me to the lady who does the PR. Doing a 'change of address' in person is better than sending out form letters, and means I will get an invitation to the next vernissage - when I can eat free cheese and skip the wine.

I am not really a 'free cheese' type, but I think it will be useful to go to these affairs. I am sort of hoping there may be some strange characters who show up at them but I am afraid all I will find are very ernest types who like wine and cheese a lot.

When I left I had the luck to find the way to the Rue de la Grande Chaumière. At its beginning it doesn't look like much. The narrow street glistened and the two lines of parked cars had raindrops floating on their paint like tiny fishbowls, and way off up at the end, the misty boulevard.

The Académie in is the middle and it has plaques outside with the names of sculptors who taught in it, including Zadkine's. There are other places of a certain age in the street too, so its details have more interest than its whole aspect.

At the boulevard there was a gale blowing from Port Royal. I stepped back and made sure I was all zipped up. La Rotonde's big sign made it look like a circus. Further along, Le Select looked quieter, nearly somber, and across the boulevard La Coupole is all inside without much exterior.