crouching beehive, hidden coyotes

Newsletter 12.24.2023

Bienvenue and welcome back to Musée Musings, your idiosyncratic to Paris and art. Thank you so much for your kind and thoughtful comments about my pigeonnier. I’m refining Part Two and looking forward to sharing it with you soon. This week’s post is the first of two about an exhibition that opened in October and that I saw at least five times before I left for San Francisco. It’s a retrospective of the artist Sophie Calle, at the Musée Picasso. Calle was 20 when Picasso died 50 years ago. She has been making art and making waves for most of these past 50 years.

I was planning to visit the exhibition a couple times a week before I left for San Francisco. But I ran out of time as I juggled my obsession with it and migraines and Covid vaccine reactions and visits to other exhibitions. The museum has just announced that the exhibition will be up through January. Which is good news for me and good news for you if you are in Paris now or will be in January.

Back to San Francisco. When I’m in Paris, I usually need the fingers on both hands, to list all the things I do each week. San Francisco is mostly about family, which is just fine. But this year, it’s been different. I’ve been attending bi-weekly meetings of the Proust Society at the Mechanics Institute, San Francisco’s equivalent of the American Library in Paris. There are 23 people in the group, with a waiting list! The group is led by Mark Calkins, a professor at S.F. State who wrote his doctoral dissertation on Proust. The people in the class, all mostly ‘troisieme age’ are smart and engaged, just like my Proust reading group at the American Library in Paris.

The week started out sunny but rain was in the forecast, so Ginevra and I walked over to the de Young Museum to enjoy the outdoor sculpture garden. (Fig 1) It’s small and cosy, an extension of the museum’s cafe. A space where nature and commerce happily co-mingle. And it being San Francisco, t’s anarchic, too with kids running in the grass and on the sculptures. The museum has acquired some new pieces, and thankfully, my old favorites are all still in place.

Figure 1. De Young Sculpture Garden

One of the newer pieces is by Pierre Huyghe. It’s called Exomind (Deep Water). A sculpture of a crouching woman with a beehive head. (Fig 2) The materials are listed as “Cast concrete with wax hive and bee colony”. The day we were there the hive was covered to keep the bees warm. (Fig 3) Here’s a partial explanation for the piece from the museum’s catalog: “Huyghe’s work functions like a living algorithm: its evolution is driven by its colony of worker bees, who scan the environment and mine it for nectar like a line of code harvests data. Embodying a vision of intelligence that bridges the categorical divide between human, nature, and machine…”

Figure 2. Exomined (Deep Water), Pierre Huyghe

Figure 3. Exomind covered

A sister sculpture was on exhibit a few years ago at MoMA, in New York. (Fig 4) Their website explains the sculpture this way, “The living beehive serves as the nude’s head, but also, by extension, her brain. The collective thought processes of bees—their “hive mentality”—have long been studied in relation to human political and social organization…” The explanation goes on to state that the relationship between humans and bees is ancient and symbiotic. And as the bees build their hive, they “… collaborate in the creation of the sculpture.”

Figure 4. Untitled, Pierre Huyghe (MoMA)

On one side of the covered beehive, a sign explains that although the bees are mostly congenial, you shouldn’t get too close because they can get cranky. (Figs 5, 5a) On the other side of the beehive is another sign, even more off-putting. It’s a sign that’s posted elsewhere in the park, too. (Fig 6) It tells you what to do if you encounter a coyote. Look him/her in the eye and don’t scream. Don’t turn your back and don’t run. You don’t want to be mistaken for prey/food. Ginevra and I happened upon a coyote a few weeks ago. The signs don’t make the encounter more pleasant just less startling.

Figure 5. Exomind, the bees explanation

Figure 5a. Cranky Bees

Figure 6. Coyote Warning

There’s a sculpture by a young artist, Woody de Othello, pipes that seem to have lost their strength. (Fig 7) They are limp and kind of hugging each other, trying not to collapse. This sculpture is right next to an old favorite, Claus Oldenburg’s Safety Pin. (Fig 8) It’s a fun and joyful juxtaposition. BTW, Oldenburg’s wife, Coosje van Bruggen should get dual billing but she often doesn’t, even though they mostly worked together. And then there’s James Turrell’s ‘Three Gems,’ Skyspace, which you can’t see right away. You have to walk along a path, through a tunnel and into an underground space at the center of which is a round room, with an oculus above. And a stone bench on which you can sit and watch the sky show through the oculus for as long as you want. The color of the sky can be different each time you go and if you stay long enough, it changes during a single visit as clouds pass by or the fog rolls in (Figs 9, 10).

Figure 7. Faucet, Woody de Othello, 2021

Figure 8. Safety Pin, Claus Oldenburg

Figure 9. ’Three Gems’ Skyspace, James Turrell

Figure 10. Oculus, ‘Three Gems’ Skyspace

Let’s see, what else. On Tuesday, as part of San Francisco’s annual British Film Festival, we saw Flora and Son, (Fig 11) starring Bono’s daughter as a single mom with a troubled 14 year old son. When most ingenues are played by 30 year olds, it was interesting to see the part of a 31 year old mom played by a 31 year old woman. The conceit is this, to get closer to her musically minded son, Flora buys a banged up guitar. When he doesn’t want it, she starts taking guitar lessons online from a guy in Southern California. It was slow going at first but it turned out to be a really endearing film. At one point, Flora asks her friend to watch her son for a month, her friend accuses her of being interested only in herself. That criticism, and of course her struggles as a single mom with little money and less support from her son’s father, make the ending especially thoughtful. And what do you know, I just read that two of the film’s songs received Academy Award nominations. Bono’s daughter, makes sense.

Figure 11. Flora and Son

The film started at 7 so we decided to have a burger beforehand, at one of my favorite burger places. Not that I have that many, but Roam’s burgers are really good. Wait, who am I kidding, it’s not the burgers that draw me, it’s the fabulous fries - sweet potato fries and zucchini/onion fries. (Fig 12) As we walked from Roam to the Vogue Theater, along Fillmore Street in Pacific Heights, we bumped into Dandelion (Fig 13) and picked up an essential for the weeks ahead - hot chocolate mix.

Figure 12. Roam, Burgers and Fries - Zucchini & Onion and Sweet Potato with Kombucha to drink

Figure 13. Dandelion Chocolate on Filmore Street

On Wednesday it was still raining when we went to see Smuin’s Christmas Ballet. (Fig 14) Which for quite a few years was as much an annual event for us as Handel’s Messiah still is. The Smuin Ballet Company was founded by Michael Smuin whose career as dancer and choreographer was pretty stellar, from principal dancer with the American Ballet Theater and San Francisco Ballet and then co-director of SF Ballet. But then, he must have gotten bored because in 1994 he founded Smuin Ballet, with the goal of “infus(ing) ballet with the rhythm, speed, and syncopation of American popular culture.”  The dancers work hard but they look like they’re having fun - and so the audience does, too. Their traditional Christmas Ballet is in two parts. The first part, is 15 short dances set to classical music, from “Unto Us a Child is Born’ (Handel’s Messiah) to the traditional English, “The Gloucestershire Wassail.”

Figure 14. Smuin Christmas Ballet

After intermission, the dancers go ‘contemporary,’ dancing to another 15 songs, these ones sung by the likes of Lou Rawls’ ‘Little Drummer Boy.’ Eartha Kitt, ‘Santa Baby’ and Leon Redbone, ‘Christmas on Christmas Island.’ There was tap dancing and fun costumes (like bikinis and speedos for Christmas on Christmas Island). This being San Francisco, a few songs featured romantic pairings of same sex couples.

One song has thankfully been retired, ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’. I always found that song creepy. Post Jeffrey Epstein and Harvey Weinstein, it seems that other people agreed. I just reread the lyrics, learned that they were written in 1944 by Frank Loesser who received an Academy Award for Best Original Song for them in 1950. How times have changed. Here are a few of the almost consistently objectionable lyrics, ‘Say, what's in this drink? (Bill Cosby anyone?) ‘I simply must go Baby,’ ‘The answer is, “No”' and finally, She: “Okay, fine, just another drink” He: “That took a lot of convincing.” Ugh.

Just as Ginevra was getting ready to make one last batch of cookies - (Alison Roman’s Linzer Cookies) - the oven died. Well, the stove top still worked and the broiler did, too. But baking was over. And so was roasting. Which wouldn’t do at all since I had ordered a pork roast that was going to need some serious oven time on Monday. We’ve been having problems with the oven, well the oven door - it’s too heavy and too temperamental. Last year, I was ready to get rid of it, but then I made the unhappy discovery that 36” wide ovens cost about three times more than 30” ovens do. So, last year we just fixed our 36” oven door and hoped for the best. This year, indecision not an option, I selected a 30” oven and, with two creative children, I ‘m sure we’ll figure out what to do with the extra 3” on either side. When the guys arrived to install the new oven and haul out the old one, they complained about the size of our oven, for which I had already paid a hauling fee of $50. They told me they were going to have to charge me $150 more. When I balked at the extra charge, they called my bluff and asked me where they should put the old oven. Anywhere that isn’t in your way, I told them. Instead of leaving it, they took it, without another mention of money. As they left, I gave them $60. When I told Nicolas about it later, he said they had taken advantage of me. Maybe, but the old oven is gone, the new one is (fingers crossed) working and both cookie baking and roast roasting are back on track.

Thanks again for your Comments. Meilleurs Voeux and Gros Bisous! Dr. B.

New comments on A HOME OF OUR OWN, Part 1:

Thank you for allowing me to ride along on your dream! I have often fantasized of a little escape in France, with all the history and character of your pigeonnier. I am the type who buys an antique brooch and wonders when and where and by whom it was first purchased, or wishes I could be a mouse in the corner when it was first gifted for a special occasion. I would be paralyzed in your pigeonnier, dreaming of the generations before me and what their lives were like, and wishing I could spend just one day with each of them. Thank you for preserving this, and allowing it to live on for future generations of us who revere the past! Bonnie

Loved reading your pigeonnier story about love and patience. Barbara

Love it! Amanda

I loved it! My husband and I experienced your realization of your dream vicariously. (I also love your many valuable observations on art exhibits. We go to France for two weeks every summer and get valuable tips from you for those times, but also love reading about what we’re missing. Many thanks! Melinda

So exciting to read about your dream property in southern France and learn how it all began and expanded. Thank you. Brenda

What a wonderful story and what a beautiful vision you had! It is even more special to read and see the beginning photos since I know what a lovely, magical place it still is after you have placed your personal touches to its history. Well done, my friend. Sydney

This is delightful! Falling in love together with a magical place. Thanks for taking us on this journey. Elaine

Great story, Beverly. Sorry I never visited the place. Warmest good wishes to you and your children for the new year, and happy trails for the Camino.. Martin

Your blog was always a great read but I'm enjoying it even more since you've expanded it beyond art to include your very interesting personal life. I get a lot of vicarious pleasure shopping for chocolate with you, etc. Since I've seen your charming pigeonaire after it was completed, it was fascinating to see the photos before you restored it. Amazing transformation. But as I recall, you may be selling it now that you spend most of your time in Paris? John

What patience. But the final results look worth it. Loved the article and the before and after photos. Deedee

OMG ... what a fabulous story. I can totally feel your pain and work for all these years. My admiration for your tenacity and not giving up this slow and arduous process. The last picture gives a hint of how beautiful your pigeonnier must be by now. Thank you again for such pleasurable reading. My bonbon on a rainy miserable day in Berlin. Merry Christmas to you and yours. Ursula