Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Foires aux Vins 2010

It’s September and that means, among other things, that supermarkets all over France have set up their foires aux vins displays.

At the outset, the foires aux vins were an obvious marketing ploy for supermarkets to unload unsold wine stock at low prices. However the foires have changed over time. One of the most notable changes is price: some of the loss-leader wines are indeed marked down, but for many others the sale price differs little from the normal price. This year is different. YOUPIE ! (yippie)

With sales generally down for wines at “normal” prices, real bargains are more numerous at this year’s foires aux vins. Big buyers apparently purchased large stocks of certain vintages several years ago, hoping to rake in profits in the future. The financial crisis has forced them to change their game plan. For example, as last week’s Le Monde Magazine reported, some 2005 Bordeaux (on the market in 2006) are currently being sold below their initial 2006 market price, especially at this year’s (fabulous) foires aux vins.

Another lucky break for wine lovers/bargain hunters concerns ’06, ’07 and ’08 vintages that are often considered as less stunning than the 2005s.

Kick snobbery out the door! Individual taste is what matters. You can find deals in France right now on very good and/or excellent, very diverse wines from Bordeaux, Bourgogne, Côtes-du-Rhône, Provence, Languedoc-Roussillon, the Loire…reds, whites, rosés, even some bubblies and ciders.

To quote Arthur Vassincourt: “Ne ratez pas le coche !”
Don’t miss the boat…which for some means buying a plane ticket for France. Value is so very relative...

Reds featured in photo:

MOULIN-à-VENT: Château de Chénas 2009, Appellation Moulin-à-Vent Contrôlée
http://www.cavedechenas.com/
Gamay
Grapes are hand harvested
13% vol.

BROUILLY: Hospices de Belleville 2009 Thévenot, Appellation Brouilly Contrôlée
www.beaujolais-wines.com/
Gamay
13% vol.

TOURAINE: Domaine des Clémendières 2009 Appellation Touraine Protégée
http://www.vinsdeloire.fr/
Gamay
13% vol.

FITOU: Domaine Comerade 2007, Cascastel, Appellation Fitou Contrôlée
http://www.cru-fitou.com/
Carignan, grenache, syrah
Vendanges manuelles (hand harvested)
13.5% vol.

COSTIERES DE NIMES: Les Grandes Cabanes 2008 , Château Lamargue, Appellation Costières de Nîmes Contrôlée
Featured on various wine web sites
Syrah
14% vol.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Laurent Tirard's 2007 film MOLIERE



In 1644, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, dit Molière, is a twenty-two year old actor whose talent for tragedy is obviously outweighed by his talent for comedy. However, despite his undeniably bad acting, the future founder of the Comédie Française stubbornly continues to stage tragedies. One day, after being imprisoned by impatient creditors, he disappears. Thus begins a
mysterious ten-year period unaccounted for in experts' records of Molière’s life.

French film director Laurent Tirard’s scenario imagines what may have transpired during those ten years and suggests that the experiences lived during those years fed the playwright’s genius to develop the psychological depth of the characters for which he is so well known.

The film resonates with Molière’s language as it situates some of his wittiest and most powerful retorts in the dialogue of everyday life. It sings and singes on the lips of the talented cast, beginning with Romain Duris as the young Molière. Fabio Luchini incarnates to perfection Monsieur Jourdain, a phantasmagorical bourgeois gentilhomme. Towards the end of the movie, Luchini is nothing short of spectacular in his finessing of a scene where the usually bumbling, too-eager-to-impress-nobility Jourdain drops his charade to express himself frankly and with such unexpected truthful wit that the Marquise (played by Ludovine Sagnier) is left uncharacteristically speechless. The scene is a key moment in the film in its depiction of the age-old French binary opposition of être and paraître (being over appearance). Edouard Baer and Laura Morante give equally notable performances: Baer as the opportunistic, back-stabbing but ever elegant marquis and Morante as Jourdain’s wife and Molière’s insightful, provocative muse.

Like Molière’s plays – intelligent, amusing music for the eyes, ears and mind – Tirard’s Molière puts its finger on an unchanging humanity. The cleverly imagined period piece is in perfect harmony with today’s values… listen up for the zinger on commerce with China….

Two web sites, in French, about the film:

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Coularou commérages

commérages = rumors

Winter is reluctant to loosen its grip. It snowed in the foothills last week, snow is forecast for tomorrow… and I’m beginning to wonder (again) if Montesquieu wasn’t onto something in connecting climatic conditions to people’s behavior. Geopsycho.

I’ve noticed of late an occasional Shining gleam in my reflection, not to mention in my neighbor’s eye. Now that the first two stones have been cast:

This past Wednesday, the “Coularou” club members (that really is their name) met for lunch at the village’s S. Restaurant, for their annual spring bash. The Coularous being civic-minded senior citizens, they alternate the meal’s venue every year. That way each of the three local eating establishments is equally patronized. This year it was the S.’s turn. The seniors were off and grumbling weeks beforehand. They say the service there is inadequate, the server cranky, the prices inflated, the food just barely average and the wine just barely drinkable.

Bref, word is that the owner-hostess-server is cheap and out to scam the clients.

The seniors must like to play the game. They grumble and criticize with confidentially reprobative eyes and knowing nods. Some develop post-meal digestive problems once every three years. And yet, every three years, they’re back at the S., forks and tongues on the ready.

The occasion was animated by the multi-talented Hervé. Composer, lyricist, pianist, singer, imitator and pharmacist…, he delighted the seniors with his talent and humor. The first course – steamed mussels – was met with decidedly less applause.

The mussels had surreptitiously decamped, leaving the diners’ bowls with mostly empty shells and broth. Complaints were politely registered. The chef/co-owner agreed that it wasn’t acceptable, while blaming the fishmonger, and offered to replace the mussels with another dish. No dice, countered the wife/server/co-owner (and my neighbor), “it’s not our fault.” Gazes averted.

Next course: lamb stew, with an original twist: one of the principal ingredients seemed to be pork. More knowing looks exchanged.

They say there were also problems with the wine, but the finale dessert and coffee were quite tasty. A good finish...

In lieu of a break on the bill, D. the proprietor-server, proposed to deliver éclairs to this week’s club meeting. The gesture was accompanied, however, with a request for a list of diners who’d ordered mussels. Most of them only attend the annual dinner and are not regulars at weekly club meetings. Apparently this is common knowledge ‘round these parts.

Who wouldn’t find this amusing?



Thursday, April 22, 2010

Djemila Benhabib on the recent attacks on women in Algeria's Hassi Messaoud

Algerian author and activist Djemila Benhabib wrote the following text in reaction to the recent violent attacks on women in Hassi-Messaoud, in Algeria. The French version is followed by my English translation. Please get involved by sharing either or both versions as widely as possible.
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«Une femme libre, les scandalise! » Kateb Yacine

J’ai frémi de douleurs lorsque j’ai appris l'horreur dont sont victimes des femmes travailleuses à Hassi Messaoud. Une fois la nuit tombée, des dizaines de lâches armés jusqu'aux dents se sont transformés en justiciers de l’ordre moral, en traquant des travailleuses jusque dans leurs modestes logements pour marquer leur chair du sceau de l’infamie et leur infliger les pires sévices. Singulièrement, pour m’extraire du choc que je venais de subir par cette lugubre nouvelle, Kateb Yacine est venu à ma rescousse pour me dire : «Une femme libre, les scandalise! ».



Lorsque la ville sombre dans le noir, une pluie de malédictions s’abat sur ces travailleuses venues des quatre coins du pays pour gagner leur pain. Soutiens de famille pour la plupart, elles ont renoncé à leur milieu de vie habituel pour parcourir des centaines de kilomètres et nourrir plusieurs bouches. Leurs gîtes ont été saccagés et leurs effets personnels volés et, comme si cela ne suffisait pas, les viols et les tortures se sont multipliés et banalisés sans que cela n’ébranle, outre mesure, les services de police complices de ces atrocités. Qu'arrive-il à cette ville, l'une des plus sécurisées du pays où se bousculent les compagnies pétrolières étrangères? La ruée vers l’or noir obscurcit-elle tant les esprits? Que se passe-t-il dans cet îlot orangé du Sahara où poussent le laurier-rose et l’eucalyptus et qui fait courir les touristes européens friands de méditation, de nuits étoilées et de thé vert? L’histoire retiendra qu’à l’ombre de l’oasis où les torchères crachent leurs volutes de fumée vers le ciel et où le dollar est roi, coule le sang des femmes, témoins d’un âge qu’on pensait révolu. Les corps de ces travailleuses porteront, pour toujours, à tout jamais, les stigmates de ces nuits rythmées de leurs cris de souffrance. Saigner les travailleuses et ouvrir grands les bras aux compagnies étrangères pour pomper les richesses du pays, est-ce la conception du développement économique version 2010? Hassi-Messaoud aurait pu devenir une source folle d’espérance, elle qui a su transformer cette terre ingrate en symbole de richesse. Et pourtant le miracle n’est que mirage. Qu’est-ce que la richesse d’un pays lorsqu’elle se bâtit sur la douleur des femmes ? Aujourd’hui, au delà des maux qui submergent mon être, je suis traversée par une immense colère car j’ai le sentiment que la barbarie qu’a connue Hassi Messaoud en juillet 2001 (et qui a fait une cinquantaine de victimes dans le quartier d’El Haïcha - toutes des femmes - à la suite d'un prêche virulent d'un obscur imam) se répète.

Comment se faire une raison lorsque la vie des femmes n’est que broutille? Comment se faire une raison lorsqu’on les identifie aux tares de la société? Comment se faire une raison lorsque le travail des femmes est érigé en crime et que le meurtre est promu en norme sociale? Comment se faire une raison lorsque les commissariats de police se transforment en lieux de lynchage pour crucifier les victimes et célébrer les bourreaux? Comment se faire une raison lorsque la justice s’égare et que l’injustice est érigée en système? Que faire pour déchirer le voile opaque de l'indifférence? Que faire pour crever le monstrueux silence des interdits, cache-sexe de l’islamisme? Est-ce possible que la représentation qui rend sataniques les femmes, si chère aux islamistes, ait triomphé? Est-ce possible que la politique de l’amnésie générale du président Bouteflika ait fini par faire son œuvre? Est-ce possible que l'Algérie marche à reculons? Est-ce possible que l’Algérie régresse cruellement?



Il y a, au moins, une évidence qui rebondit à chaque fois que l’histoire balbutie à l’ombre des interdits et des injustices, nulle lumière, nulle aube ne peut se lever. En effet, le Code de l’infamie adopté en 1984 continue de nourrir les violences à l’égard des femmes en les subordonnant aux hommes. Si l’on ajoute à cela l’intoxication intégriste et la vétusté des sphères éducatives, sociales et culturelles à commencer par le système éducatif, inutile de se surprendre des terribles dérives actuelles. Tout ce qui permet à l’être humain de se construire et à un peuple de s'épanouir est proscrit et banni par le régime bouteflikien. Est-ce de cela dont ont rêvé les moudjahidates de la guerre de libération? Est-ce de cela dont rêvaient les marcheurs du 22 mars 1993? Est-ce de cela dont rêvaient les victimes du terrorisme islamiste? J’en doute fort. Aujourd’hui, j’ai mal à mon Algérie pour le sort qu’elle réserve à ses femmes. Le degré de développement d'un pays se mesure au degré d’émancipation des femmes, disait Engels. Et nous en sommes loin en Algérie, terriblement loin. Le développement y est tel un mirage. Exactement comme Hassi-Messaoud m’apparaît… comme un mirage, le mirage du développement. Quelle désolation ! --Djemila Benhabib, auteure de Ma vie à contre-Coran.

English Translation of Djemila’s text:

I trembled with pain upon learning of the horrors suffered by women working in Hassi Messaoud. As night fell, dozens of cowards, armed to the teeth, turned into dispensers of moral justice, hunting down these women in their modest homes, marking their flesh with the seal of infamy, inflicting the worst abuses on them. As I reeled from this lugubrious news, Katib Yacine’s words came to my rescue: “A free woman offends them!”

As the city sinks into darkness, a rain of curses crashes down on these women who have come from the four corners of the country to work. Most of them are the sole providers for their families; leaving their lives behind, they relocated hundreds of kilometers away in order to feed hungry mouths. Their cottages have been ransacked, their personal belongings stolen, and as if that were not enough, the rapes and tortures perpetrated against them have multiplied and have been trivialized – without inordinately troubling the police force, a party to the atrocities. What’s happening to this city, one of the country’s most secure, where foreign oil companies are nearly tripping over each other? Have people’s minds been that darkened by the rush for black gold? What’s going on here in this Saharan oasis of orange, oleander and eucalyptus, this haven for European tourists partial to meditation, starry nights and green tea? History will remember the blood of women flowing in the dark corners of the oasis where flares spit their curls of smoke up towards the sky, where the dollar is king. These women bear witness of a time we thought in the past; their bodies will forever carry the stigma of these nights punctuated by their screams of suffering. Bleeding women and wide-open arms welcoming foreign companies to drain the country’s wealth: is this 2010’s conception of economic development? Hassi-Messaoud, whose hostile land was transformed into a symbol of wealth, could have become a wild spring of hope. But the miracle is merely a mirage. What is the wealth of a country when built upon the suffering of its women? Today, above and beyond the pain engulfing me, I am filled with incredible anger, because I have the feeling that the barbarism that took place in Hassi Messaoud in July of 2001 (with 50 victims in the neighborhood of El Haïcha – all women – following a virulent sermon by an obscure imam) is happening all over again.


How can we accept it when women’s lives count for so little? How can we accept it when they are considered as a defective element of society? How can we accept it when the work of women is set up as a crime and murder is promoted as a social norm? How can we accept it when police stations are transformed into lynching stations for crucifying the victims and singing the praises of their hangmen? How can we accept it when justice goes astray and injustice takes its place? What can we do to rip the opaque veil from indifference? What can we do to break down the monstrous silence of what is forbidden, the G-string of Islamism? Can it be that this representation of women as satanic, so dear to Islamists, has won out? Can it be that President Bouteflika’s political posture of general amnesia has finally done the job? Can Algeria be moving backwards? Can it be that Algeria is regressing cruelly?

There is at least one obvious fact that rebounds each time history falters in the shadows of bans and injustices: no light, no dawn can rise. The Code of infamy adopted in 1984 continues to foster violence on women in subjugating them to men. If we add to this fundamentalist intoxication and obsolete educational, social and cultural circles, beginning with the educational, we shouldn’t be surprised by today’s terrible trend downwards. Everything that permits human beings to develop, all that allows a people to grow is proscribed and banished by the Bouteflikien regime. Was this the Moudjahidate dream during the war for liberation? Was this the dream of the March 22 protestors in 1993? Is this the dream of the victims of Islamist terrorism? I very much doubt it. Today, I ache for the fate my Algeria’s women. The degree of a country’s development is measured by the emancipation of women, Engels said. And we’re far from that in Algeria, so very far. Development is like a mirage there. Exactly as Hassi-Messaoud appears to me… like a mirage, a mirage of development. What anguish!

--text written by Djemila Benhabib, author of Ma vie à contre-Coran
--English translation of text by Jean Leslie Baker



Monday, March 29, 2010

Out with the Cold, in with the New


CARNAVAL !

Our village school teacher and his students spent a couple of weeks making the enormous papier-mâché Monsieur Carnaval they paraded around the village this past Saturday afternoon to celebrate Carnaval: a festival that takes place anywhere between Epiphany and Ash Wednesday, to encourage winter's demise and the advent of spring.

The word "carnaval" has two origins, one Christian and the other pagan. The former (carne levare levamen) is connected to the beginning of the Lenten fast… a binge, a last chance to indulge in whatever cannot be done and/or consumed during the de-privileging of the carnal that Lent requires.

The other, older origin (carrus navalis) is connected to the god Dionysius and the passage from winter into spring. Historically in France and especially before the imposition of Christianity on pagan customs, people disguised themselves as parts of nature: animals, plants, fruits, vegetables, etc.for the festival. Daniel Vigne's 1982 film Le Retour of Marin Guerre has a wonderful scene depicting men decked out in animal skins for carnavalesque festivities. Today's carnaval disguises look more like American Halloween costumes (also unfortunately transformed over the years), but the fun and spirit of the festival is still alive and well.


So this past Saturday, a noisy fanfare of drums, whistles and horns called us out onto the village square, where a rather cheery looking Monsieur Carnaval was watching over his kingdom from the back of a pickup truck. Costumed and un-costumed villagers of all ages joined in the fun. After about an hour of chit-chat, dancing and candy-throwing, the procession made its way up the village's main street towards the Mairie and schoolhouse, where it turned around to march out of town for the big finale: Monsieur Carnaval was consumed in a big bonfire.


Au revoir l'hiver, bon débarras !

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Women's Rights Threatened in France

This month's issue of Le Monde diplomatique has a number of interesting and important articles. Four in particular caught my attention immediately: "Traité secret sur l'immatériel" by Florent Latrive (treating intellectual propriety rights and the sharing of ideas), "De la valeur ignorée des métiers" by Pierre Rimbert (weighing what people are paid for their work against their contributions to society), "Et pour quelques tomates de plus" by Pierre Daum and Aurel (the plight of farm workers in southern Spain, pointing to a multitude of reasons to boycott tomato sales in Europe), and lastly, the article I chose to translate and post below:  Sabine Lambert's "Le droit à lavortement menacé, 'une affaire de bonnes femmes.'" Some of these articles are found in this month's online issue of Le Monde diplomatique. Not all are available in the International issue in English

The Right to Abortion Threatened
written  by Sabine Lambert, student in sociology

On the set of Les maternelles, broadcast by France 5 on January 21, a woman emotionally describes the abortion she'd undergone in a hospital...without anesthesia. She isn’t talking about an abortion 40 years ago: she’s not even 25 years old, lives in the Paris suburbs. On the verge of tears, she recalls the details of her ordeal, from the usual struggle to get an appointment, to the operating table where she had the abortion amidst the incessant comings and goings of hospital personnel, and with no anesthesia. She was not given the option. As she tells her story, the journalist interviewing her repeatedly exclaims in surprise, “unbelievable!” Finally the interviewer turns to the doctor sharing the stage with them to ask how such a situation could still be possible in France. The gynecologist wearily affirms that there are indeed some doctors who use pain and humiliation to make women pay for their decision to get an abortion.
Abortions without anesthesia are apparently rare. While knitting needles and blood poisoning seem to be things of the past in France. Being shown your “baby” on the ultrasound or being asked condescendingly how you “managed to get pregnant” are not. And the question of how to abort? Drugs, for example, are often presented as a progressive alternative to surgery. Given the current shortage of hospital beds, drugs may become a means of “freeing up the operating rooms,” as it is sometimes more prosaically put. Clearing abortion patients from the holy operating block, delivering the immaculate temple, so to speak, of this irrelevance, might free up time for the big brass to remove tumors and implant eggs in courageous albeit infertile women – obviously more lucrative and gratifying than an ordinary suction abortion.

Apparently abortion, like contraception, is considered solely a "women's issue." When their pregnancy tests show positive, it's their problem; if they decide to have an abortion, the weight of the decision is again on their shoulders. Those who think this way will respond, “obviously” – since it concerns women’s choices and women’s bodies. Women asked for this freedom; let them deal with it. Only a vaguely subversive, exotic sexuality seems to emerge from the domain of the “private.” Little does it matter that women spend more time cleaning toilets, taking care of children and slaving away for unequal pay than they do playing with the latest sex toy in vogue.

It appears that a woman’s life is only of interest if filled with glamor and excitement — a description that doesn't fit abortion. Abortion is too often left to the militant anti-abortionists, who are all too happy to take it on, and seriously. They may not be as numerous in France as in Spain, the US or in Latin American countries, where religion feeds their numbers, but their views are blossoming on fertile ground in France. The media contributes to anti-abortionist growth by often putting them in a favorable spotlight. The movement is also developing modern tools to isolate women and relegate them to the recesses of their fragile psyches. Pro-lifers take advantage of this climate and increasingly use their Internet sites to advance anti-abortion goals by responding subtlety to women “in distress.” We would be wrong to consider these groups simply as a mish-mash of reactionary crackpots. They are abandoning flagrant lies, shocking slogans and illegal provocations. Their web sites consistently resemble genuine ancillary sites of the Ministry of Health…to the point of being mistaken for them. Names such as the “National Rating Center,” toll-free numbers and Anglophone university studies, are helping them build a very real respectability.

This allows them to more easily insert themselves into the “psychological turmoil”— notably the famous “post-abortion syndrome”— to which all women are supposedly vulnerable after a voluntary abortion. Women who choose abortion are depicted as veritable wrecks, susceptible to a multitude of dangers: alcoholism, suicide, poverty, loneliness, or job loss. These apocalyptic descriptions are generally supported by grandiloquent statements, waxing lyrical on the “urge to bear children” that is some sort of natural occult force for any self-respecting woman…and whose emergence at times requires forceps. It’s on this point that the discourse of anti-abortionists joins the more common and omnipresent discourse of those that describe motherhood not as a choice, but as a force above and beyond women. The recent debate on “pregnancy denial” has contributed to accentuating this psychologizing vision. It once again calls into question, by a very practical magnifying glass effect, women’s capacity to decide what is good for them.

If we add to that multiple articles regularly consecrated to the sublime fertility rate of French women, why would it surprise us in such a climate that deciding to have an abortion may be painful? And consequently, how can abortion be experienced as anything but the “obligatory drama” that the experts describe as a villainous and indelible scar on female nature, the failure of a woman’s life? How surprising can it be that this necessarily painful act becomes so? Skimming through Internet forums to read the long laments of women who have had abortions reveals the effects of these self-fulfilling prophecies. Those who dared go against the dictates of nature and their “female instincts” seem to have perfectly internalized their punishment. It is translated through nightmares or imaginary babies who grow up, who have birthdays; it expresses itself by heavy feelings of guilt, anxiety, loneliness and shame. As for those women who do not experience this pain and regret, they are reduced to silence if they do not wish to be seen as abnormal, heartless or mentally ill.

The threats weighing against the right to abortion go beyond the waiting period and the list of the latest abortion clinics shut down, even though physical access to abortion remains an obviously crucial issue. More often an indirect than head-on, this threat consists of overlapping, multiple factors. Among them, a division between “private” and “political” – or “public” – that hangs on like a village of very gallant Gauls. It is highlighted, for example, in the attitude of the OFPRA (French office for the protection of refugees and stateless people), which argues that the rape and violence done to women are not valid reasons to request asylum, since they concern problems related to “the private lives” of women (1).  This dichotomy is possible because of the constantly updated anchoring of women in nature and family circles, as “less social” beings than men. It excludes them from history and submits them to specific and implicit laws. It is this division that sends battered women back to their "responsibilities" and encourages indifference to the lamentable inequality of the division of household tasks.

This last issue, which often provokes sarcasm from those who rarely pick up a broom, is not trivial. On the contrary, it reveals that relations between the sexes, while perhaps individually harmonious, are nothing less than social and, whether lovers of social light-mindedness like it or not, they are the fruits of a power relationship. If it were a matter of attitudes needing a tweek then “we would have to undertake the education of supervisors and managers so that they would do their part of the typing and industrial work,” humorously writes French feminist Colette Guillaumin (2). This way, “by reforming people’s attitudes,” we would see a “benign society” emerge.

In a word, this dichotomy allowed a doctor to decide with complete impunity, based on his good grace or his mood of the day, that the (not quite really a) patient on his table would be just fine without anesthesia.

1) Jean-Marc Manach, “Le viol des réfugiées ‘relève de leur vie privée’”, Bugbrother.net, December 11, 2009.
2) Colette Guillaumin, Sexe, race et pratique du pouvoir. L’idée de nature, Indigo et Côté-Femmes, Paris, 1992, p. 231.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

The Renaissance Revisited, sort of


While Robert De Niro was preparing for the inauguration of an art expo in Nice showcasing his father’s work*, to the west in the chilly Cévennes, people were revisiting an historic period known for its religious fervor. Note the particularly creepy reincarnation of Richelieu...who looks more like a monk from The Name of the Rose. Someone confused the Middle Ages with the Renaissance?









Last week, at Fort Auban in Alès, local artisans, actors and history buffs donned 16th-17th century costumes – some made by the participants themselves, others dating back hundreds of years – to explain to spectators the who, what, how, and whys of the personages they represented.











The most horrible spun around the tortures of the time, most of which were not designed, as we would assume, to bring a confession to the victim’s lips, but rather to cause suffering in the cruelest and most prolonged fashion as punishment for not toeing the religious line. And then there were the soldiers and Musketeers, war machines, guns, lances, canons… There's a rat in that cage, folks, the cage is an instrument of torture and not (so much) for the rat...





On the less violent side of the event were cooks, shoemakers, masons, and our somewhat quirky, charming and very talented story-teller friend Christiane displaying how she uses plants and roots to dye and decorate fabric naturally.




At the end of such an event, one cannot help but wonder why this tendency to so glorify the past. Fascination, escapism, voyeurism and perhaps a need to understand what once was and is no more? Hallelujah amen. Alas, “history” repeats itself, over and over and over and over...



*The RDN exhibit runs until May 31 at the Matisse Museum in Nice; De Niro senior, an abstract expressionist, was strongly influenced by Matisse.

Next blog entry on tap: an incredible article on abortion rights, from this month’s Le Monde diplomatique.