The Escape.

Monday garden- part 1

In her continuing series on Substack,

Amy Stewart

has introduced the idea of a self- appointed artist’s residency. There are so many possibilities: you can become an artist in residence of your local parc, of the cats on your street or the violin concerts in your area. You can decide to practice your art form- whatever it may be- without waiting for anyone’s permission, but your own. The idea appeals to me for many reasons, among which are the constraints (of time, place, subject matter…) and the regularity.

It turned out that all I needed to become an artist in residence was to give myself permission. Every Monday morning I have a habit of walking in Paris. It’s a luxury and a joy- and also a choice- to stroll, to take my time tasting a coffee outside, to watch closely the busy life of the big and beautiful city and to find quiet in its gardens.

Paris is many things and it can give you the glitter, the drum beat, the mesmerizing beauty of colourful lights reflected in the dark waves of the Seine, the wine and the laughter. It can also surround you with quiet and soft whispering of the leaves, especially if you know where to look. There is indeed a quiet Paris, an older lady who has lived a long life and has seen the fiery dramas and the glittery festivities come and go. She’ll offer you places to rest as long as you treat her with respect and don’t mention her age.

This series will be called: Monday garden (I know, my own originality scares me sometimes). I’ll be visiting one garden per arrondissement during this first part of the “residency” and that should amount to 20 essays. However there will quite probably be some bonus content as well- more on that next week.

Due to this thing known as “life” with its obligations, appointments for myself and the kids, a job- these essays will not follow a chronological order: from the 1st Arrondissement to the 20th. I might organise them later on. For now we will be moving in a zigzag pattern, much like as if you were visiting Paris with a charming if somewhat dishevelled guide.

So our first visit takes us to a garden in the 12^th arrondissement – Square St Eloi.

I came there to visit cetacean.

A fountain in a shape of a big whale made of resin and covered in mosaics dominates a large sandy space between the flowerbeds and children’s playground.

It’s a strange site: the sculpture has a presence that is undeniable both by its size and the flowing beauty of its curves. The feeling of it being present is also due to the colour of the piece and the sound it produces- when the fountain is working. The sunlight plays on the various blues of tiny mosaics. One can’t see much of the sky in the parc, covered as it is by the still leafy trees and huge apartment buildings. So the whale is almost the only piece of blue in the landscape- you can’t miss it.

And yet, this huge mammal is out of place somehow. It’s as if the whale has swum through the narrow passages of the 12^th, passing the brightly coloured storefronts. It has glided between the hedges of the square- the dark reds and rusty oranges of the dahlias in full bloom and then, suddenly it came to a stop- stranded in the dusty square, surrounded by benches.

The whale’s way out is blocked by a large and uniform apartment building that rises above the square. Not like a wave that would be pulsating and alive but like a dead mass of a wall. Inside its uniform and grey mass people occupy small and identical spaces. To me this whale looked almost desperate and I was wondering about a way for it to escape this surreal environment …

Maybe all the little kids living in the grey building will decide to set the whale free. They will save the balloons of many different colours and then one day blow them all up, tie them up to the statue and the whale will float away. It will be known forever as – “the flight of the whale”.  But meanwhile you can still go and visit it and maybe tell it a little story- I’m pretty sure it gets really boring in the park after a while especially when you are used to the limitless expanse of the ocean.