I was in the museum of modern art in the Pompidou Museum and was very astounded by all of the art that I had the opportunity to see. I was feel quite sick though. Very pale and lightheadedness, like when I used to swim a lot and was often dehydrated back in the eighth grade and high school. Oh the memories, and how unfortunate it was to happen again in a foreign country this time. Reminds me of when I was also sick in Italy for a day, vomiting sporadically all around the city..probably eight times in that one day. It's convenient that I always feel fine the next day. Usually it just takes a lot of water and a hearty meal to get me back up again. I'm glad it didn't impede with my plans too much and gave me a little bit of time to update my Facebook pictures and catch up with a few friends from home.
Anyways, after the few pieces I had the chance to glance over in the Pompidou center, I was not a big fan of any of the pieces I really looked at from the cubism of Picasso to Matisse.They just seemed far too simple to be put in a museum for people from all of the world to come and visit. How can something that looks so simple and easy to throw together be considered art. Anyone can throw a rock at a glass statue and shatter it, pick up the pieces, then glue them onto a canvas, so I don't see what makes them so special to be presented in this famous museum.
The building itself was quite interesting though as an "exoskeletal"with its functional parts (pipes, heating ducts, escalator) on the outside and the modern art in very spacious and open rooms on the inside.
Centre Pompidou
After looking at the urinal work displayed prominently in a corner, it made me question how we can interpret what's art and who makes the final decision of what constitutes art.
Marcel Duchamp's "Fountain" - Centre Pompidou
How can a urinal be considered art? It's not one-of-a kind as it is mass produced in a production factory and Duchamp probably bought it from a home improvement store, similar to what would be Lowe's or Home Depot at that time in 1917. It's irreproducible and it's something any one could do, but not necessarily just anyone can think this up, as Duchamp was the first to actually consider putting such a grotesque appliance in a museum and simply throwing his name on the urinal - thus his creativity is what deserved him a place in the modern art museum today.
I then ventured back to my Cambronne stop, barely able to stand up on the hot, stuffy metro on the way home. I would be feeling extra claustrophobic when the metro is on strike, thus funneling everyone to only a few metro trains. Hey, you haven't truly lived in Paris long enough unless the metro goes on strike. Upon nearing my apartment, I was able to devour a warm, flakey 4 fromage quiche topped with thinly sliced tomatoes and half of a massive, soft baguette from the bakery we visit every morning. The plain croissant I had from there that morning was clearly not enough to sustain my dizziness. I've been to this bakery at least twice a day the past few days in my sudden eagerness to sample everything I've been reading about online or have been recommended by professors and advisors before I leave. Still haven't been disappointed. Hopefully the sugar rush doesn't force me into a sickly state in these last few days.
We then worked on some homework, and explored our area a bit more in search of a new exquisite dinner. We eventually settled on a French grocery store, Franprix, after realizing we're running low on money and still have souvenirs to buy for friends and family, and go shopping ourselves.. I still felt like we were living the Parisian life as it's not like the French dine out in a restaurant every night, but share meals in their homes, as we do in America. I then felt a little better and couldn't handle staying in for the evening with only two nights left to explore Paris, so I met up with Sarah Jorgenson, Dr. Del Rio, and the majority of his comm class here in Paris at our favorite bar, called the River. It's pretty impossible for us to pass up a Guinness with Dr. Del Rio, especially when the cute French bartender, Pierre, who's studying Mathematics at the Sorbonne, is finally recognizing us!
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