A Bull’s Eye Every time
Le Bon Marché and the artists
I mentioned a couple weeks ago that the French government, after ordering boutiques and department stores to delay their winter sales by a few weeks, issued a directive stating that any store larger than 20 000 square meters had to close, immediately. I knew that meant indoor shopping malls, that make winter shopping in the rain and snow, almost bearable, and probably Galleries Lafayette and Printemps and BHV, too, would have to shutter their doors mid-sale. But I never imagined that my go-to department store, well the only department store I actually go to, Le Bon Marché, (on which Zola’s, Au Bonheur des Dames was loosely based) (Figure 1) would be on the hit list. But, alas, it was.
I am a bricks and mortar shopper but not much of a bricks and mortar buyer. In fact, it is probably my fault that Barney’s New York declared bankruptcy, ditto FAO Schwarz (which is not quite gone, but I understand not quite the same, either). I shopped at those stores and bought elsewhere. I would try on clothes at Barney’s, then buy online from Net-a-Porter. In Paris, I pretty much do the same at Le Bon Marché, I try on clothes and then usually get them for less at Net-a-Porter. If I have any loyalty at all when it comes to shopping/buying, it is to myself. If I can’t find it for less online then I wait until Le Bon Marché’s second mark-down accompanied by one of those tags that reads, ’further 10% discount taken at the caisse’. A word of warning: the 10% reduction is off the sale price and not the retail price. So if it is 50% off, the additional 10% reduction is only 5% off the original price. When I start to explain the intricacies of these price reductions to family and friends, just before their eyes glaze over, it is often suggested that I might have done better financially if I had gone into finance rather than art history. Too late now.
But even when I can get whatever is on sale at Le Bon Marché for less elsewhere, Le Bon Marché draws me during the winter sales for more than their real (rather than virtual) dressing rooms. The first draw is the braderies, (Figure 2) special areas in the store where you can find real bargains, because the stuff on sale is at least a few seasons old. Which doesn’t bother me one bit since I am planning to wear whatever I buy for more than one season. My favorite braderies are in the intimate apparel department where I rummage through bins of reduced price tights and stockings by Wolford and Falke, both of which brands cost a fortune retail. Bras too are a great bargain. My mantra is 50% or more. Who needs a 40€ bra for 30€; much better to find a 100€ bra for 50€. The more you spend the more you save. Just saying.
And when I can’t even find a single thing to buy, winter sale time at Bon Marché, means art installation time. I hope I made a case for coming to Paris in January for Galettes des Rois. Here’s another reason. Not food and art this time, but commerce and art. Because each year, for the past 6 years, in fact, every year since I began spending my Januarys in Paris, Le Bon Marché has invited an artist to fill the windows along the rue de Sevres which have just been stripped of their Christmas decorations. These windows and the grand central space of this magnificent department store are taken over by a contemporary artist. Have you ever been absolutely swept away by something you hadn’t anticipated ? Well, that is exactly what happened to me, I came to shop and I stayed for art. And what art it was, the first time and each time since.
We’ve already spoken about La Samaritaine, (Figure 3) the department store which Marie Jaÿ and Ernest Cognacq founded in 1870. Like them, Aristide Boucicaut the founder of Le Bon Marché, was an entrepreneur with a social conscience. In fact, Marie Jaÿ was Le Bon Marché’s star saleswoman when Ernest Cognacq stole her heart and stole her away from Le Bon Marché. She brought with her ideas that had made Le Bon Marché so successful, among them, encouraging customers to do what we is normal now but which was revolutionary at the time, that is, wander freely around the store and try on clothes. Rather than price haggling as had been the custom, items had fixed prices clearly marked on the label. Catalogs and mail order sales, January white sales and a reading room where men could while away the time while their wives shopped, all enhanced the shopper’s (and the shopper’s companion’s) experience. Altruistic, Aristide Boucicaut also thought about his employees as he prospered, providing them with medical assistance, paid holidays, career promotions and retirement. When Mme Boucicaut died in 1887, a decade after her husband, she left money to the French state to build a hospital which still bears their name.
And what about art? According to Le Bon Marché’s website, in 1875, “…Aristide Boucicaut, opened a fine arts gallery in his store, dedicated to artists and art works that were rejected by the official “Salon de peintures et de sculptures”. …” Fifteen years later, Le Bon Marché began collecting contemporary paintings and sculptures, a project which continues, as new artworks are “regularly acquired and displayed throughout the store, offering (customers) an aesthetic .. experience…” (Figure 4)
Since 2016, Le Bon Marché has increased its commitment to contemporary art by “inviting a major contemporary artist from the international scene and giving them free rein to exhibit their latest art works at the beginning of the year. … (T)he works produced specially for the occasion feature prominently as immense installations that dialogue with the surrounding architecture, while creating a place where artists and the public can come together and foster wider understanding.”
The first installation commissioned in 2016 was by Ai WeiWei. (Figure 5) Can you believe that ?This is a store with a ‘go big or go home’ mentality. Ai WeiWei, just to remind you, is a Chinese artist and activist openly critical of the Chinese government. Twelve years in New York (1981-1993) as student and young artist, Ai WeiWei learned how to blend traditional Chinese art forms with sculpture, ready-mades, conceptual art, photography, performance art and architecture to denounce Chinese government policies and shed light on Chinese social conditions. When he returned to China, he continued to lash out against the Chinese government’s disregard for human rights, now adding tweets and blogs to his plastic arts arsenal. Finally, in 2011, the Chinese government arrested Ai WeiWei for unspecified economic crimes. His passport was confiscated and he was detained for nearly 3 months. No charges were ever brought. His passport was eventually returned and he was permitted to leave China in 2015. After four years in Berlin, he moved to Cambridge, England where he lives now.
Le Bon Marché’s commission was Ai Weiwei’s first exhibition in France of original work. This commission, which has remained constant since then, was for a massive piece to adorn the store’s grand central space and smaller pieces for each of the windows along the rue de Sevres. Entitled, ”Er Xi, Air de Jeux” (playground) (Figure 6, Figure 7) Ai WeiWei was inspired by the Shan Hai Jing, (Classic of Mountains and Seas), a book of ancient Chinese myths populated by hybrid creatures such as turtle-fish, fish-roosters and serpent with human heads. Traditional myths were coupled with traditional kite making techniques. Ai WeiWei used woven bamboo rods as the bones of and supports for his white tissue paper creatures. The result was glorious mythological creatures floating on three levels under the central glass roof of the store.
The windows along rue de Sevres were filled with references to WeiWei’s own narrative: (Figure 8) surveillance cameras, his own pointed middle finger, his bicycle and a bottle rack, (references to Marcel Duchamp’s ready-mades which Ai WeiWei uses in his own work). One of the sculptures, entitled “With Passport”, includes symbols, like the river crab "he xie” a well known reference to Chinese internet censorship (for those in the know).
What were the constraints of the commission ? There was only one - the installation had to be white. Why? Well, because it was on display during the store’s January white sale, its annual sale of bed linens. In an interview Ai WeiWei talked about what Paris had meant to him and how he felt about having an exhibition in a department store. WeiWei noted that his father, a noted poet, who had studied art in Paris in the 1930s, often told stories about Paris. Through these stories, Paris had become a mythological city for him, a city of the imagination. To construct a mythological world for an exhibition in a mythological city, seemed just right.
As for an exhibition in a grand department store selling luxury goods. That didn’t bother WeiWei either because France is “a society that has a maturity in both commerce and culture,” which China lacks. For China, a society without this balance, development is dangerous because it lacks “social criticism..aesthetic discussion (and) philosophical thinking” to inform it.
I was particularly intrigued by WeiWei’s observation. I felt exactly that way when I visited Prague a few years ago. It was a city making up for all those years without capitalism. Everything and everyone was for sale. I stopped telling anyone I liked anything because their immediate response was to ask me how much I was willing to pay for it.
When I saw this exhibition at Le Bon Marché, I was in the middle of an Ai WeiWei moment myself. In October 2014, I had seen an installation by Ai WeiWei at Alcatraz, a perfect setting for an artist who was, at the time, stuck in China. According to a spokesman for the non-profit organization which runs Alcatraz, Ai WeiWei’s installation was intended to reflect “… an island with its own history of political imprisonment (and to) explore the meaning of freedom and self-expression, … around the world.“ (Figure 9)
The year after I saw Ai WeiWei in Paris, I was in New York City, just after Thanksgiving, enjoying the Christmas decorations AND some Ai WeiWei installations. He had created temporary structures that resembled security fences. Called ‘Good Fences Make Good Neighbors,’ taken from the 1914 poem Mending Wall, by Robert Frost, the artist’s intention was to provoke discussions about the role that walls play in relationships. It was a pointed reference to then President Trump's plans to build a border wall between the USA and Mexico.(Figure 10)
Since Ai WeiWei’s inaugural installation in 2016, Le Bon Marché has continued to commission artists at the top of their game to create over the top site-specific works of art in January, during its white sale, imposing one sole criteria - a white work of art. In 2017, Japanese artist, Chiaru Shiota was selected. Her material of choice was cotton string. Her exhibition was entitled “Where are we going,” and for Le Bon Marché’s central space, she wove 150 boats of all sizes and cultures, all facing towards the sky, symbolizing hope and the future. Chiharu Shiota wove a “Memory of the Ocean” wave, which people could actually experience by crossing, as if under the sea. (Figure 11)
In 2019, the Portuguese artist Joana Vasconcelos, who had four years earlier created an installation at Versailles (which is another way the French State celebrates and supports contemporary art), was selected. She was delighted with the commission, saying “ It's an important place for me. Every time I go to Paris, I go to the Center Pompidou and the Bon Marché. I breathe in the spirit of the moment, it is an excellent indicator of trends for fashion and design.” For Le Bon Marché, Vasconcelos’ installation, entitled Branco Luz (White Light) was a gigantic Valkyrie, a floating, sprawling white essence, 35 meters long, suspended from the ceiling, lit from the inside, adorned with embroidered fabrics, wool and lace. Unlike the violent imagery associated with the Valkyrie, female warriors from Norse mythology who rode winged mounts, Vasconcelos’ suspended creature is all embroidered and quilted white fabrics, refined and benevolent. It brings "strength and courage to humans," according to the artist. Vasconcelos gave the creature a name, Simone, in honor of two illustrious French feminists, Simone Veil and Simone de Beauvoir. (Figure 12)
This year, 2021, it was Prune Nourry's turn to create an installation. A multidisciplinary artist, she takes as her subject topics such as genetic research, gender selection and the female body. In 2009, Prune Nourry organized “procreative dinners”. Among the delicacies on the menu was a pierced egg symbolizing amniocentesis and a mold of the artist's nipple in marzipan. In 2011, she created a performance art piece, referencing American sperm banks, called Sperm bar where clients could select their donor according to criteria such as eye color, education, etc. Each selection was associated with a flavor. (Figure 13)
Then 2016, at the age of 31, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Three years later, she underwent a mastectomy. After a decade of addressing fertility issues with her art, she was forced to address them in her life. Talk about making lemonade out of lemons, for the past five years, her work has revolved around her breast cancer and the decisions which surrounded it - whether or not to freeze her eggs, etc. Think for a moment how far we have come. How brave Betty Ford and Happy Rockefeller were considered when they openly discussed their breast cancers and mastectomies.
The installation piece Nourry created for Le Bon Marché, entitled L’Amazone Érogène, takes its inspiration from the Amazons of Greek mythology who cut off their right breasts to be better archers. The installation is a vibrant combination of these warriors’ attributes: breast, bow, arrows. (Figure 14, Figure 15) The artist offers us two ways to interpret the hundreds of arrows and those breasts. One interpretation is that the arrows are rays of chemotherapy, aimed at a breast-target. Another is that the arrows represent sperm and the target represents an ovum they are all rushing to fertilize.
Nourry has explained her need for an artistic outlet to express what she is experiencing and to share it with others. (I am paraphrasing here)
“During the reconstruction (of her body, post surgery) I had the impression of moving from sculptor to sculpture (but) I had to take control again, become the sculptor again: that's why I made the sculpture called ‘Amazon.’ At the beginning artists make art because we have no choice. And then when we offer the work to the viewer, we abandon it so that it can have its own life, we hope that it will be able to help people. There is a form of healing (for the artist) and healing through art (for the viewer).”
In addition to documenting her own journey, she is hoping to help others. She is selling the wood and brass arrows of the Le Bon Marché installation to pay for copies of her new book Aux Amazones, a journal to which a variety of experts on breast cancer have contributed. She plans to give the book to women fighting cancer. For each arrow purchased, twenty contemporary Amazons will receive a book.
I hope I have convinced you that when next you are able to travel, you will consider Paris in January, the city has so much to offer. Just don’t forget your umbrella !
Copyright © 2021 Beverly Held, Ph.D. All rights reserved