Dani’s Blog

He was that guy over there with the moustache who I felt looking at me, sometimes smiling, but never speaking. Italian, French, Spanish?
I didn’t see him again.

Months later he is sitting suddenly in front of me, smiling, eager to talk, having just returned from Italy. A new resident artist at 59.

He often has a smile like the tip of an iceberg of a story.
A story he doesn’t reveal to me. Not in words.

Manuel Baldassare, musician and painter currently working at 59 rue de Rivoli, 6th floor

While setting up to shoot some portraits yesterday, the inspectors passed through doing an état des lieux.

As they were standing in my line of fire, we took a couple of photos together. This is number two. After seeing number one, I said let’s do another, parce que j’ai des grosses fesses. Hence, the posture of Aliocha…

I adore these guys. They are good friends, talented artists, inspiring human beings and they make me laugh!

Moi, Aliocha, Thierry Hodebar, Francesco, Slimane Hamadache

At 59 we sometimes paint on the walls.

Tonight the artist hosted by our gallery painted in the street.

Emmanuel Flipo likes to throw pigments to the wind.

Gaki arrives through a cloud of Flipo's performance

Flipo draws in the street in front of the 59 Rivoli gallery

Flipo making his déssin on rue de Rivoli

Flipo’s exhibition will be on view in the gallery until May 2nd.
59 rue de Rivoli, 75001. Paris.

Back from the sea with burnt forehead.

I moved my studio today.

By the grace of coincidence I’m taking over a small space just next to my old one at 59 Rivoli, that has been prematurely liberated. I will have a corner! I’ve been working in a rather small space, though I am quite used to working in closets. This one was basically a hallway.

Left-to-right, it was . . .

Back-left corner is where I'll now be working. The wall of photos is in the space where I've been the last several months

The full width of my space/hallway/studio, between the the walls. You can see the orange backside of a painting by Bruno Dumont that hangs in front of the entrance to the 4th floor. In the corner there is also the old bathroom door, provocatively painted by Hao, recuperated from the squat days.

The wall between my and Aliocha's studio. The b&w collage is staying, and growing. The other photos and black background are gone. Francesco's studio is in the distance, with his Don Quixote de la Mancha on the far wall.

Demain soir je fête mes six mois de résidence au 59 rue de Rivoli,
j’exposerai le travail résultant de ce temps,
les images attendus mais plutôt inattendus,
autour d’un apéro, partagé avec des amis
nouveaux, de longtemps et pas encore connus.

A Paris? Vous êtes bienvenus.

I was looking at those brown doors last night, remembering their old red, yellow and purple and thought, when are we going to paint them?

A little while later, while contemplating my collage in the 4th floor hallway, Gaki walked by holding a tall paintbrush with a bright dab of yellow at the end. There was a matching dab on his cheek.

What are you up to? I asked.

He said, with his characteristic smile, on peins la porte, viens.
(We’re painting the door, come.)

You don’t have to tell me twice.

Details of the collaboration's rainbow of fruity flavors

Slimane paints a base coat in blue

Saverio Montella paints with two brushes simultaneously

Suisse Marocain and Barry, who accompanied the painters with song and dance

Suisse and Gaki at the door-painting party

Francesco adds his signautre style

Suisse Marocain closes the doors of 59 rue de Rivoli for the night. To be finished tomorrow...

“Also Women Can Paint” : Suisse Marocain

Thanks everyone who came by 59 last night for our residents’ group show! For those who couldn’t pass through the gallery at 59 rue de Rivoli in Paris, you still have time! The show will hang until February 14th, when it will end with some young, energetic musical accompaniment.

And, a word about 59 and what it means to me, in a way I may have not said before…

It’s sort of a dream to me to be a resident in this building, a place I first encountered in maybe 2001 or 2002, a naive Midwestern girl roaming Paris, thinking “I will live here.” I couldn’t wrap my mind around how the existence of an artist squat was possible (you mean you just stay and not pay rent? how do you get away with that?), and I didn’t know that’s what this extravagantly decorated building at number 59 was.

What I saw that day, standing on the sidewalk among the shoppers on Rivoli, was freedom. Freedom manifested in a way I had never seen before. Freedom, action, creation, coming out of every window and crevice. My gut emotional response was, YES!

That day the front door was closed and I went about my dreamy wanderings. It wasn’t until 2005 that I saw the inside. It didn’t disappoint. Globally, it was colorful chaos, like a marathon five-hour French-style Christmas feast for the eyes. It was warm like sitting around a fire with friends. It had high collective energy and I wanted a key.

In 2006 I saw the building be emptied, in 2009 I saw it re-filled (sorry, skipping a lot in between), and now in 2010 it’s a place where my personal work is taking a new turn. 59, and the people who created and continue to create it, have inspired me with their talent, friendship and encouragement. My life wouldn’t be the same if we hadn’t crossed paths.

On that note, a few photos from the last couple days.

D.

Sebastien Lecca contemplates his installation.

Fanny Duprat paints it black.

Can you find my head in Seb's collection of faces?

Jeff's son Diego, conquering his fear of dogs. He made his first canine friend on this night.

Camille, a frequenter of Parisian art events. Her maitresse, Pring, is behind her in gold ankle boots, which she created. My feet are in pink.

Fanny makes a killer belle blonde.

Resident artists Agnès de la Roncière and Gaki.

Kim, artist in residence, came decked out in angel's wings. Here photographed with Bernard, who always reminds me to consult his agent if I plan to sell a photo of him.

Yours truly, in a dress inspired by and borrowed from Lucie Belarbi, a long-time resident of 59.

Back when I started this blog, one of my reasons for it was to share photos from random celebrations, which I usually send by email in a long film-strip-like montage. I forgot about this for a while, and now that I’ve learned how to create this scrolling box (html beginner that I am), I’ll start posting these.

Last night there was a party to celebrate 10 years of residence at 59 rue de Rivoli, an artist squat that opened in central Paris a decade ago and has recently become legitimate studios, owned by the city of Paris, and still housing many of the original artists from last century. It doesn’t take much of a reason to have a party with the Electrons Libres, but this one is a milestone. I didn’t shoot much, but here are some faces in the crowd.

I feel I’m nearing the end of my portrait project of the artists at 59 rue de Rivoli. Au moins, I’m at a bend in the road.

I will keep a studio space there for 3 to 6 months, so if you are in Paris please stop by the 4th floor and say hello.

Through the last two months at 59 I’ve consistently shot autoportraits and should have a collection of them soon on my website. The surrealists (you should see the show up at Pompidou) have been kindred spirits.