Friday, V and I had a completely unstructured day. We winged it after a morning panini run and decided to explore the Le Marais district. It is known as Paris’ gay and Jewish district so it naturally has cheap shopping. Unfortunately for Val (Nick is all set in the popped-collar fashion division), most of the stores were closed due to New Years day.
As we were walking, we happened upon a strange modern building looking like a collage of large pipes and glass. Walking around to the front, we realized we discovered (read: stumbled on to) the Centre Pompidou.
The Centre Pompidou is a modern art museum, and frankly, we thought it was fairly terrible. Apparently Valerie and I are just not museum people. But it was decidedly worth the 10 Euros to get in to the door just for the laughs we got.
Admittedly, there were some occasionally cool exhibits, but one of the exhibitions was a room full of black paintings. The paintings were all black. 100% black. The only disambiguation between paintings was the texture of the paint, but don’t let that fool you in to thinking there was skill in the creation; these could be done in your garage. The exhibition was art from artist Pierre Soulages, and I give you his name because I ask that the next time you see his work, you recognize just how little talent it takes to be famous (ever hear of Paris Hilton?).
We were museum-ed out again, so we retired to the hotel to go reflect on how many ways you can paint a poster black.