On Monday, March 25, Nicole Michaud, pre-retired of Education, left home to go to the exhibition of Deborah Gonzalez. It was cold, not to put off a hustler. She made a slight detour to take the subway because she wanted to avoid a bunch of guys pretty dirty, accompanied by German shepherds, begging for money and cigarettes. She knew they were not dangerous, it was enough to answer them kindly, smiling, and it expressed its solidarity, we recognize them as similar. But on the morning of Monday, March 25 Nicole Michaud was tired, she did not want to smile to his fellows, indeed it was longer very sure that there was anything similar to them and, if it is an anatomical structure that she also shared with most mammals.
The ride went smoothly, and the windows were scratched as usual, and it annoyed him a bit more than usual, although she was perfectly aware that 1) this kind of vandalism was not very serious, there was no big deal and 2) it would disappear once you have treated collectively substantive issues, sociological, economic, and cultural. The work
Deborah Gonzalez inaugurated a museum of contemporary art we had just built on the edge of the device. Nobody knew who was Walsung Norbert, who gave his name to the building. But it was said that the funding was questionable. Felix Rocquencourt have used all his influence with the President. We had to give up nurseries, schools and hospitals. There was one death in unclear circumstances.
Leaving the subway, Nicole Michaud was dazzled. There was first a vast esplanade, worthy of a Christian or Muslim pilgrimage. She would testify to archaeologists thousands of years to come, the great fervor that drained Contemporary Art. Fountains pyramidal, cubical and spherical, designed by none other than Sung Jun (because why quibble when you build in the collective interest?), Punctuating this stretch of concrete that future generations could easily convert more pragmatic in airstrip. [The Ministry of Culture of Solidarity, however, ensured that these generations avoid falling into a dish materialism.] Of course, zigzagging between rollerwomen skatemen and fountains, and their fluorescent leggings drew coils Carnival in the dull light of the winter ending. In these early hours, there was too much, mostly in their forties were freshly converted to the sport.
The museum itself consisted of a circular concrete wall that no opening is pierced, domed plexiglass supported by a wire mesh. Bad language would have compared the building to a prison, unable to understand that the lack of windows symbolized the virtues claimed by the intransigence of contemporary art.
A special team of disadvantaged young people hired under special contracts was responsible for cleaning the dome was a heroic job, he was clinging to a rope and crawl like an insect on the slippery walls, like a mutant hero of American comic. The CGT and the Committee on Health and Safety at Work protested, but we could not let dust accumulate on a museum of contemporary art, it would have been more qu'inconvenant: politically suspect, and the department had made funds available to finance increased capacity and working time arrangements available to the CGT final settlement.
There was a long queue, but only for tourists, because Nicole Michaud as Paris and pre-retired national education benefited from the special concern of the authorities, and had a pass for direct access to museum spaces in the capital .
The museum's management had made a special effort to integrate disabled people into the world of work. Many guards were traveling in wheelchairs, some cashiers emerged from serious psychological disorders, other employees were shaken by stuttering and tics doubtful the information booth, we had the facies clearly Mongoloid, while in the locker room, it was dying, coughing of some immune deficiency terminal.
The revolutionary work of Deborah Gonzalez, a pioneer of Living Art, featured fifty naked men over the age of forty-five. They came from all walks of life: artists, marginal, fathers, sports, advertising moguls and teachers of Classics. They had asserted their pride in the press to lend substance to this unique experience. They were exhibited in cages of various materials, but all bio-degradable bamboo, sisal, papyrus, vines, branches of sycamore, plywood, etc.. "What interests me above all, had shamelessly told the artist to review Cyber-Art is man in his nakedness. She had shaved their head to affix his signature. Le Nouvel Observateur had devoted a special issue to the exhibition on the theme "women to take back the body of man." A fifty intellectuals, artists, designers, researchers and journalists to express their views. The Living Art of Deborah Gonzalez borrowed directly, concretely and physically to nature. The vanguard found it earlier suddenly relegated to the dustbin of history.
Although a native of San Francisco, California, Deborah Gonzalez chose to live in Paris. Nicole Michaud
peered curiously at the body, they evoked neither the strength nor the ancient heroes of Mr. Muscle and other stars of the muscle-and they were pretty flabby, wrinkled, and the tail hanging, prostrate and shameful, froze in poses humiliated, either spontaneously or under the instructions given by the artist, their flesh on the threshold of old age refracted shadows pale projectors sepia, gray and purple, was the distress the Western white male after he had laid the burden of history. She felt a subtle emotion as a funeral touching, something discreet and Racine that spelled out the hum of air conditioning and the distant echo of the store's cash registers.
We had the right touch, it was envisaged in the concept was the ultimate transgression, the ultimate demolition of the fiction of a respectable art, but she dared not, she stayed behind, fascinated by this poignant tribute. Around it, the Boeotian stifled their giggles.
Models had slender legs, shoulders hunched and ribs protruding, their bodies had nothing more to say, he had no function other than its own maintenance. The saddest thing was their buttocks, pitiful residue of all defeats.
With allowances, Nicole Michaud had undertaken a methodical cultural odyssey She originally infatuated archaeological travel - Angkor, Karnak, Cuzco - favoring, thanks to numerous scholarly books, an intelligent reading of the remains. Then there had been major museums around the world, it had taken courses in art history and had tried to watercolor. Then run out of money, she had passed on the literary scene, devouring the latest Femina, Goncourt and Renaudot. When she had a headache, she put down her book and went to see a film - the cinema of the corner loved young French authors, which still did not solve the headache. Then there was kinetic art, visual artists and designers. And also the theater avant-garde and modern dance. Nothing that was not cultural was foreign to him.
The effect produced by the eclectic brew chowing down on it every day came down to this adjective trivial: she was happy. There was always at least one reason to be satisfied in each of his aesthetic experiences. She was glad to have seen what he had to see him recover his memories in a novel fashion, the comic too large of a sculpture, decorative virtues of a pictorial motif, or a saucy provocations street performer, or because it was filmed in a neighborhood she knew. Glad I got tickets, to be returned home safely, that the decorations were nice to look at, that music would not do him much earful as she feared, that the book had only eighty pages, the time interval allowed her to eat a sandwich, that the piece was written in a language intelligible that the choreographer has provided for the simulated coitus, the opera ends before the last metro glad I bought the catalog of the exhibition and the museum is not on strike. That the pyramids are in place and the Raft of the Medusa like himself. They speak well in the newspapers of what she had seen the day before. It can talk to her friends at tea time.
In addition to being happy, she felt sometimes (as in the work of living flesh of Deborah Gonzalez) indescribable emotion that, although belonging to the bourgeoisie and secular intellectual fonctionnariale this caste guardian of the Logos, it would struggled to describe.
It was crouched on the floor, head between his shoulders, he is lying on his belly, looking the secrets of the earth and another on his knees in prayer for hints of blasphemy raises a fourth adopted a neutral but traces of bites and body modification Past punctuated his body. At the center of the exhibition, the artist had planned a meditation space, where visitors were invited to immerse themselves. It was a magic circle drawn on the floor with a projector in the center that sent the ceiling of abstract figures, fractals, stains Rochsach
... Unfortunately, there was a guy who was reading the newspaper, what was he doing here? It disturbed his meditation, she could not help but read over his shoulder, but here in this space which was being built for posterity, the insignificance of misery broke the news fugitive and nonsense trotted out by politicians. But she was stronger, as if this incident had banal citizenship here.
Pourtrouville Sports Centre, in the Val d'Oise, had exploded for the third time. They had found the gas cans, gas bottles and jagged traces of explosives professionals. It was suspected that two of the band members had been sentenced to several months in jail for similar explosions. They had received training and rehabilitation of a personal psychological. The population was appalled and the city fathers did not understand. Why pick on the emblem of their generous efforts of solidarity and integration of young people in trouble? Ministresse the Youth and Sports called for respect, respect for the party, respect for the friendship, respect community values, it would launch a campaign of respect in schools, there would be exhibitions by artists citizens on respect, footballers would go talk to young people, we organize a celebration of compliance with rock bands and TV stars. The ministresse said that the dawn of youth festival would take place, whatever one thinks, for State and local treasure trove of generosity, and we would rebuild the sports center for a third time, a fourth if necessary, until these young people understand how the authorities liked. Compassion, understanding, tolerance and openness, these are the values defended by the Ministry of Youth and Sports, and moreover that the Ministry of Culture of Solidarity, the state formed a compact block of positive energy, sounding for all the good wishes and thanks to the sports festival, the festival of culture and the celebration of youth, goodness would spread inexorably.
There were many other things in this newspaper spoke of intellectuals on the future of football, an official association frightened progress of obesity, the French agriculture was once again under the knife
throat ... Suddenly they heard screams, it was a scuffle here and there people ran about with fire extinguishers, whistles sounded, the panic came from the back of the room, the sound of approaching police siren could be heard crying scandal, others argued that it was expected, a happening of living art, the latest discovery of Deborah Gonzalez. Nicole Michaud nodded to learn more, it became almost amusing, one of the models was covered with paint, he foamed with rage, they saw two clear out Mickey, a Scrooge, a King Kong and a Steve McQueen armed with bombs aerosol and a squad of nurses arrived, another model, also brushed, rolled on the ground, gripped by a fit of sobbing, laughing under the eye of a group of college students in pajamas extra-large, guarded by a teacher who angrily pressed the buttons on his phone. A guy in uniform, strong odor of alcohol, explained by a babbling bourgeois very angry that although he wore a uniform, he was in no way responsible for safety, he was reluctant to police because he found all forms of repression and morally reprehensible we had reclassified its status to that of cultural leader. The missus grew angry, and invoked the civic republican values. The employee, whose stammer growing logorrhea degenerated into unintelligible, answered him, it seemed, he believed above all in solidarity. They were jostled by three fellows armed with fire extinguishers shouting orders into the microphone on their walkie-talkie. A manager told police the direction in which the masked gang had fled, the museum guards gently repelled the crowd to the exits, you could read in their faces the satisfaction of returning home soon after this unexpected entertainment.
The ride went smoothly, and the windows were scratched as usual, and it annoyed him a bit more than usual, although she was perfectly aware that 1) this kind of vandalism was not very serious, there was no big deal and 2) it would disappear once you have treated collectively substantive issues, sociological, economic, and cultural. The work
Deborah Gonzalez inaugurated a museum of contemporary art we had just built on the edge of the device. Nobody knew who was Walsung Norbert, who gave his name to the building. But it was said that the funding was questionable. Felix Rocquencourt have used all his influence with the President. We had to give up nurseries, schools and hospitals. There was one death in unclear circumstances.
Leaving the subway, Nicole Michaud was dazzled. There was first a vast esplanade, worthy of a Christian or Muslim pilgrimage. She would testify to archaeologists thousands of years to come, the great fervor that drained Contemporary Art. Fountains pyramidal, cubical and spherical, designed by none other than Sung Jun (because why quibble when you build in the collective interest?), Punctuating this stretch of concrete that future generations could easily convert more pragmatic in airstrip. [The Ministry of Culture of Solidarity, however, ensured that these generations avoid falling into a dish materialism.] Of course, zigzagging between rollerwomen skatemen and fountains, and their fluorescent leggings drew coils Carnival in the dull light of the winter ending. In these early hours, there was too much, mostly in their forties were freshly converted to the sport.
The museum itself consisted of a circular concrete wall that no opening is pierced, domed plexiglass supported by a wire mesh. Bad language would have compared the building to a prison, unable to understand that the lack of windows symbolized the virtues claimed by the intransigence of contemporary art.
A special team of disadvantaged young people hired under special contracts was responsible for cleaning the dome was a heroic job, he was clinging to a rope and crawl like an insect on the slippery walls, like a mutant hero of American comic. The CGT and the Committee on Health and Safety at Work protested, but we could not let dust accumulate on a museum of contemporary art, it would have been more qu'inconvenant: politically suspect, and the department had made funds available to finance increased capacity and working time arrangements available to the CGT final settlement.
There was a long queue, but only for tourists, because Nicole Michaud as Paris and pre-retired national education benefited from the special concern of the authorities, and had a pass for direct access to museum spaces in the capital .
The museum's management had made a special effort to integrate disabled people into the world of work. Many guards were traveling in wheelchairs, some cashiers emerged from serious psychological disorders, other employees were shaken by stuttering and tics doubtful the information booth, we had the facies clearly Mongoloid, while in the locker room, it was dying, coughing of some immune deficiency terminal.
The revolutionary work of Deborah Gonzalez, a pioneer of Living Art, featured fifty naked men over the age of forty-five. They came from all walks of life: artists, marginal, fathers, sports, advertising moguls and teachers of Classics. They had asserted their pride in the press to lend substance to this unique experience. They were exhibited in cages of various materials, but all bio-degradable bamboo, sisal, papyrus, vines, branches of sycamore, plywood, etc.. "What interests me above all, had shamelessly told the artist to review Cyber-Art is man in his nakedness. She had shaved their head to affix his signature. Le Nouvel Observateur had devoted a special issue to the exhibition on the theme "women to take back the body of man." A fifty intellectuals, artists, designers, researchers and journalists to express their views. The Living Art of Deborah Gonzalez borrowed directly, concretely and physically to nature. The vanguard found it earlier suddenly relegated to the dustbin of history.
Although a native of San Francisco, California, Deborah Gonzalez chose to live in Paris. Nicole Michaud
peered curiously at the body, they evoked neither the strength nor the ancient heroes of Mr. Muscle and other stars of the muscle-and they were pretty flabby, wrinkled, and the tail hanging, prostrate and shameful, froze in poses humiliated, either spontaneously or under the instructions given by the artist, their flesh on the threshold of old age refracted shadows pale projectors sepia, gray and purple, was the distress the Western white male after he had laid the burden of history. She felt a subtle emotion as a funeral touching, something discreet and Racine that spelled out the hum of air conditioning and the distant echo of the store's cash registers.
We had the right touch, it was envisaged in the concept was the ultimate transgression, the ultimate demolition of the fiction of a respectable art, but she dared not, she stayed behind, fascinated by this poignant tribute. Around it, the Boeotian stifled their giggles.
Models had slender legs, shoulders hunched and ribs protruding, their bodies had nothing more to say, he had no function other than its own maintenance. The saddest thing was their buttocks, pitiful residue of all defeats.
With allowances, Nicole Michaud had undertaken a methodical cultural odyssey She originally infatuated archaeological travel - Angkor, Karnak, Cuzco - favoring, thanks to numerous scholarly books, an intelligent reading of the remains. Then there had been major museums around the world, it had taken courses in art history and had tried to watercolor. Then run out of money, she had passed on the literary scene, devouring the latest Femina, Goncourt and Renaudot. When she had a headache, she put down her book and went to see a film - the cinema of the corner loved young French authors, which still did not solve the headache. Then there was kinetic art, visual artists and designers. And also the theater avant-garde and modern dance. Nothing that was not cultural was foreign to him.
The effect produced by the eclectic brew chowing down on it every day came down to this adjective trivial: she was happy. There was always at least one reason to be satisfied in each of his aesthetic experiences. She was glad to have seen what he had to see him recover his memories in a novel fashion, the comic too large of a sculpture, decorative virtues of a pictorial motif, or a saucy provocations street performer, or because it was filmed in a neighborhood she knew. Glad I got tickets, to be returned home safely, that the decorations were nice to look at, that music would not do him much earful as she feared, that the book had only eighty pages, the time interval allowed her to eat a sandwich, that the piece was written in a language intelligible that the choreographer has provided for the simulated coitus, the opera ends before the last metro glad I bought the catalog of the exhibition and the museum is not on strike. That the pyramids are in place and the Raft of the Medusa like himself. They speak well in the newspapers of what she had seen the day before. It can talk to her friends at tea time.
In addition to being happy, she felt sometimes (as in the work of living flesh of Deborah Gonzalez) indescribable emotion that, although belonging to the bourgeoisie and secular intellectual fonctionnariale this caste guardian of the Logos, it would struggled to describe.
It was crouched on the floor, head between his shoulders, he is lying on his belly, looking the secrets of the earth and another on his knees in prayer for hints of blasphemy raises a fourth adopted a neutral but traces of bites and body modification Past punctuated his body. At the center of the exhibition, the artist had planned a meditation space, where visitors were invited to immerse themselves. It was a magic circle drawn on the floor with a projector in the center that sent the ceiling of abstract figures, fractals, stains Rochsach
... Unfortunately, there was a guy who was reading the newspaper, what was he doing here? It disturbed his meditation, she could not help but read over his shoulder, but here in this space which was being built for posterity, the insignificance of misery broke the news fugitive and nonsense trotted out by politicians. But she was stronger, as if this incident had banal citizenship here.
Pourtrouville Sports Centre, in the Val d'Oise, had exploded for the third time. They had found the gas cans, gas bottles and jagged traces of explosives professionals. It was suspected that two of the band members had been sentenced to several months in jail for similar explosions. They had received training and rehabilitation of a personal psychological. The population was appalled and the city fathers did not understand. Why pick on the emblem of their generous efforts of solidarity and integration of young people in trouble? Ministresse the Youth and Sports called for respect, respect for the party, respect for the friendship, respect community values, it would launch a campaign of respect in schools, there would be exhibitions by artists citizens on respect, footballers would go talk to young people, we organize a celebration of compliance with rock bands and TV stars. The ministresse said that the dawn of youth festival would take place, whatever one thinks, for State and local treasure trove of generosity, and we would rebuild the sports center for a third time, a fourth if necessary, until these young people understand how the authorities liked. Compassion, understanding, tolerance and openness, these are the values defended by the Ministry of Youth and Sports, and moreover that the Ministry of Culture of Solidarity, the state formed a compact block of positive energy, sounding for all the good wishes and thanks to the sports festival, the festival of culture and the celebration of youth, goodness would spread inexorably.
There were many other things in this newspaper spoke of intellectuals on the future of football, an official association frightened progress of obesity, the French agriculture was once again under the knife
throat ... Suddenly they heard screams, it was a scuffle here and there people ran about with fire extinguishers, whistles sounded, the panic came from the back of the room, the sound of approaching police siren could be heard crying scandal, others argued that it was expected, a happening of living art, the latest discovery of Deborah Gonzalez. Nicole Michaud nodded to learn more, it became almost amusing, one of the models was covered with paint, he foamed with rage, they saw two clear out Mickey, a Scrooge, a King Kong and a Steve McQueen armed with bombs aerosol and a squad of nurses arrived, another model, also brushed, rolled on the ground, gripped by a fit of sobbing, laughing under the eye of a group of college students in pajamas extra-large, guarded by a teacher who angrily pressed the buttons on his phone. A guy in uniform, strong odor of alcohol, explained by a babbling bourgeois very angry that although he wore a uniform, he was in no way responsible for safety, he was reluctant to police because he found all forms of repression and morally reprehensible we had reclassified its status to that of cultural leader. The missus grew angry, and invoked the civic republican values. The employee, whose stammer growing logorrhea degenerated into unintelligible, answered him, it seemed, he believed above all in solidarity. They were jostled by three fellows armed with fire extinguishers shouting orders into the microphone on their walkie-talkie. A manager told police the direction in which the masked gang had fled, the museum guards gently repelled the crowd to the exits, you could read in their faces the satisfaction of returning home soon after this unexpected entertainment.
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