Two art-hunters take Paris 1. Patrick Errington explores the left bank This was my first time in Paris for the much-hyped Nuit Blanche festival and my goal was to stay general and experience as much as I could.
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Writing
Sitting at the edge of the boardwalk built this year at the Chobe Game Lodge, I can see at least twenty-four elephants. Elephants! Three or more are babies. There are thirty or more skirting the periphery but they fade in and out of view.
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Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky are the translating dream team. Husband and wife, American and Russian, tall and short – together, they have translated twenty-one classic Russian texts into English, working their way from Anton to Zhivago.
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Paris is the opposite of an open road. It is a collision, a set of barricades, serpentine passages constructed and built up over centuries. All paths lead to this mess of an intersection, dense with smoke and tourists, streets that disappear.
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“You are now officially crossing the border between real life and fiction!” Artist Laurent Godard opens the door of his Atelier with a grand gesture, “you will enter a whole new world situated right in the heart of Paris.”
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