Beirut’s history is inscribed on its walls. Just as churches nestle next to mosques, the different architectural styles cohabit.
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Don’t let them slip away. These are the last of summer’s rays. Last caresses, last dips with the breeze to dry you off, last muggy nights, last blue mornings.
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Felipe Alejandro Tiago, son and grandson of nothing, withy in hand, goes to Arles to photograph the bulls. His locks shining under the green moon, he walks slowly, gracefully.
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The summer’s hit, for me? The cicada’s song. For as long as I can remember, cicadas have been part of the sunny soundtrack of my summer holidays.
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I must have been sixteen when I snapped this photo of my dad and his mates, faces grimed using a burnt cork by candlelight during a birthday party, one summer evening in the south of France.
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I was back in Gruyère, Switzerland yesterday, home of the HR Giger Museum. Four years after the artist’s death, I am stunned to see how his work is one of a visionary.
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On your way from the Louvre over to the Orsay Museum, how could one want to symbolize love with a padlock? After having seen a thousand art works all reminding us that love is art, that it symbolizes creation, soaring spirit, inventiveness, how could one represent it by a padlock?
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Heard about the Rencontres d’Arles ? This July 6th, it’s The Night of The Year. A photographic walk through artworks projected in loops on four giant screens: the festival’s favorite artists and photographers, among them yours truly.
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Last week-end was the return of Formula 1 Grand Prix to France. And what was my best moment? Bumping into René Arnoux again.
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Well, heck! We just heard that the NBA championship is going to be doing without cheerleaders. The San Antonio Spurs is the first team to bring a little dignity back into basketball by replacing these unseemly creatures with family-friendly dancers, that is to say acrobats, jugglers and both male and female dancers who are a tad more dressed.
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During the 80s, the streets of Saigon were filled with war orphans. Always on the lookout for food and shelter, they begged or sold single cigarettes.
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Maybe I’ll let you kiss me. Maybe I’ll get up and ditch you. Maybe I’m the woman of your life.
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While you’re reading these lines, the French State is pursuing the methodical destruction of the ZAD of Notre-Dame-des-Landes.
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To those who know they must hit the road again. To those who had set down their duffel bag, who built, loved; to those who kissed and so hushed the thought that, by and by, one night or morning they would have to get under way.
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Happy birthday, Dick Annegarn. It’s been one hell of a route 66 years; you took us along for the ride from Brussels to Toulouse, giving us a taste of the roots of American folk, medieval songs and slam.
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I call them Apniks, by analogy with the Beatniks. The link with Kerouac, Burroughs and Ginsberg isn’t far-fetched in the least. Fred, Francine, Jérôme, Alex and their entire gilled gang make up a group of countercurrent freedivers.
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Do angels exist? Definitely. Are they male or female? In French and Italian cultures, we talk a lot about the sex of angels.
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Just like you, I knew about « the little French guy », the prized actor of both Luc Besson and Lars von Trier, who became a scriptwriter and director, but I never knew about the photographer.
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Rage and shame for Notre-Dame des Landes. Ungratefulness of the nation towards these « illegal occupants ». Without their courage, a useless airport would have destroyed the wooded meadows of Nantes.
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At the Macau Museum of Art, Annie Wang is inking Chinese ideograms. Well, at first glance at least… because, in reality, these are English words, in our western alphabet.
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