POMP'ing UP for DaDa

The Pompidou. A building unloved by us, with its bright blue roofline a long horizontal interruption of our prime Parisian panorama, cropping up right between the dome of The Institute de France, and the Grand Mansard of the Conciergerie. But you've gotta love its Glendale Galleria aesthetic from up-close at night.

Dear Pal Pete and I visited the DaDa exhibit, up on the top floor. They didn't take our one day museum pass for this exhibit. We had to go buy special tickets. 10 bucks or so a pop, I think. So I'd managed to spend 18 Euros for a museum card that got me into one 5 Euro exhibit (The Delacroix Museum, one block from the Bonapartment, and a real highlight two years ago, but this time disappointing in the extreme with a dull exhibit showcasing the landscapes of two of Eugene's friends--where are those great studies? Where are those two palettes of his, with the bizzaro color system he used?). I hope the Republic of France and the Mairie of Paris appreciate my blundering generosity.

DaDa was sensational. Loaded so heavy with material that I never did make it through every room before we had to depart. They had lots of films being projected, too, all made in the very interesting period of the 20's. Picabia really stood out. D.P.Pete was elated. He'd loved this stuff since his days as a sixteen year old in Chino, when we first met. We'd spend Biology class doing Exquisite Corpse games. DaDa is an enthusiasm we've shared ever since. But where I ultimately gravitated toward the Surrealists, Pete has always judged superior the initial anarchic crackle of DaDa. It's the nihilism, too.

To see so many works we'd known since our high school days was very satisfying, and rekindled something of that first early wonder at the possibilities for art-making. The perfect exhibit for his one day in Paris!