Ark Imitates Life
Deyrolle is Paris’ famous taxidermy shop, where luminescent green Polynesian butterflies line the walls and stare down on stuffed jaguars and polar bears (all of which are for sale). And it famously burned down in February 2008. Thanks to a public auction and a very wealthy owner, but mostly due to the fact that the shop is as dear to Paris’ heart as the Natural History Museum is to London’s, the shop opened again in full splendour in May 2009, to regain its place as one of Paris’ most fun and quirky places to visit. There have been a series of photography exhibits on display in the shop, including Laurent Bochet’s “1000ºC” show, documenting the melting of the shop and its furry inhabitants. (The shop remains open).
Just down the road, the Chinese-born artist Huang Yong Ping has had his latest sculpture on display since late October 2009, in the Chapelle des Petits-Augustins, part of the Ecole Nationale Supérieur des Beaux-Arts. This is French artistic hallowed ground. It’s where Renoir, Delacroix, David and Ingres learned to paint. You’d think if they were going to be precious about any artistic space, this would be it. But no—Huang Yong Ping bought up a lorry-load of growling animals from Deyrolle, singed from the fire, and threw them together in a work apparently of artistic genius and certainly of visual surprise–a Noah’s ark full of half-carbonised stuffed animals.
I can’t comment on the artistic merit or otherwise of the installation. I went to the opening, and there were a fair few TV crews and minor celebrities wandering around. I think it must have been raining when they unloaded the giraffes, because the whole place smelt like a 100ft-tall wet labrador sitting by a fire. But it really is one of the most eye-poppingly weird and wonderful things I’ve ever seen and so, yes, I’ve been back, several times.
And what has it had me thinking about? Partly about art, sure. But mostly about Paris. France may at times seem set in its ways. You play by their rules, or you don’t play at all. And by that token, Paris may on occasion be a bone-dry cake made of firm historic sponge – but it’s smothered in a fruity icing of modernity. The historic monuments of the city are there to live among, inhabit and invest, roller-skate all over, fill with stuffed elephants, and actively enjoy. These two peculiar exhibits, and the officially-sanctioned sense of careful irreverence they represent, reminded me why it’s such an interesting city to engage with.
Jack lives in Paris and makes it his daily mission to discover the stranger truffles in life. Some of them smell better than others. To get Jack’s nose working for you, send him an email.
