bilingues et artistes issue 12.city

7/27/2019 Bilingues et Artistes Issue 12.City

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EABJM - 2013



B i l i n g u e s

A r t i s t e s

CITY

N°12



Bilingues et Artistes - Issue Twelve - “City”2

La Gare Saint-LazareClaude Monet

(Public Domain)



3Bilingues et Artistes - Issue Twelve - “City”

Cities have been inconstant evolution, bothquantitatively, - 53% o theworld’s population is nowurban - and qualitatively,typically being the spearheado new technological, socialor political developments.However, in this evolution,

two revolutions stand out: the creation o therst cities in Mesopotamia about 5000 yearsago and the advent o the modern city in thecourse o the industrial revolution. Although we nowadays associateimpressionism with romantic images o

landscapes, it was at least asmuch the new art orm o themodern city. This is reected bythe Impressionists’ interest inthe new urban and suburbanlie, and through their depictiono technology that was cutting-edge at the time, even i it mayappear quaint to us today, suchas steam engines: Claude Monetdevoted a series o hal a dozenpaintings to the Gare St. Lazare,

o which this one is only the most amous.But the very “impressionist” approach o capturing the impression o the rst glance isalso remarkably in line with the brisk rhythmo the new city lie. Today, the city itsel hasbecome the artists’ canvas, with an increasingamount o artistic leeway given to architects.Conceptions o architecture themselves can bethe mirror o a society’s Zeitgeist: starting withthe renaissance, buildings were attributed tospecic people rather than cratsmen’s guilds,reecting the rise o the individual as thecentre o lie.

Submissions around the theme o City havebeen very engaging and diverse. The gritty19th century industrial metropolis seems tohave inspired many o you, but our modernurban lives, marked by dynamism but also aconcern about a pernicious kind o isolation,were also a central theme. Finally, the

wonderul perspectives oered by dierentstudents, whether they have lived in Paristheir entire lives, know three capitals, or comerom a small suburban town are once againa striking example o EABJM’s vibrant anddiverse international community.

It is with regret that I must also announcethat this will be my last issue as Editor-in-Chie. I had been a contributor to this long-standing magazine ever since my rst yearsat the school. When Tobie Barb, the previouseditor, oered me to take it over, I was veryastonished and also a bit proud. Managingand editing the magazine was a demanding,but immensely rewarding job, and each issue

continued to surprise me by thecreative diversity o our school’scontributors. I always saw mysel asa acilitator, enabling contributorsto make what they desired o eachtheme, and giving all readers theoccasion to engage with the arto other people rom the school.I will continue to contribute myphotographs to the magazine,and I’ve already started thinkingabout the next topic “Heritage”. I

am delighted to see the magazine going on,especially in the capable hands o Aili Niimuraand Sophie Benson. I wish them a lot o unand very many great new issues o Bilingueset Artistes.

Thomas Sittler

EDITORIAL

To meet the Bilingues et Artistes contributors, turn to page 15.Cover by Thomas Sittler.




À VOIR CE TRIMESTRE

DYNAMO Jusqu’au 22 juillet 2013Grand Palais, Galeries nationales

3 Av. Eisenhower, 75008 Paris

SOLEIL FROID Jusqu’au 20 mai 2013Palais de Tokyo13 Av. Wilson, 75016 Paris

CHAGALL, ENTRE GUERRE ET PAIX Jusqu’au 21 juillet 2013Musée du Luxembourg19 Rue de Vaugirard, 75006 Paris

CHEVEUX CHÉRIS Jusqu’au 14 juillet 2013Musée du quai Branly 37 Quai Branly, 75007 Paris

HOWARD GREENBERG : COLLECTIONUntil April 28, 2013Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson2 Impasse Lebouis, 75014 Paris

Sur près de 4000 m², l’expositionmontre comment, de Calder à Ka-poor, de nombreux artistes ont trai-té les notions de vision, d’espace,de lumière et de mouvement dansleurs œuvres, en réalisant souventdes installations dans lesquellesle visiteur est partie prenante :les atmosphères chromatiques etchangeantes d’Ann Veronica Jans-

sens, les miroirs kaléidoscopiquesde Jeppe Hein ou les réalisationsin situ de Felice Varini. En plaçantla vibration ainsi que le spectateuret sa perception au cœur de leursœuvres, ils orent de multiplesrésonances avec l’art optique etcinétique.

L’exposition scande le parcours dupeintre Marc Chagall en quatre mo-ments ondateurs, quatre viragesdans son oeuvre : la Russie en tempsde guerre en 1915, l’entre-deux-guerres à Paris, l’exil aux États-Unisen 1941, et l’après-guerre dans le sudde la France. Ses tableaux épousentles ruptures d’une vie d’exils orcés,qui le verra embrasser diérentsstyles. Chagall montre l’angoisse dela guerre, le silence de la campagne,l’ardeur de la ville, comme un drama-turge.

La nouvelle saison du Palais de To-kyo, « Soleil roid », explore la suraced’un monde étrange où rien de réelne doit entrer. Julien le Parc proposepar exemple un art d’immersion où,grâce à des recherches sur la lumièreet le mouvement, le visiteur est invitéà découvrir, sur un mode industriel,de nouvelles manières d’interagiravec un environnement toujours enreconstruction. La grande surace del’exposition permet d’appréhender

toutes les acettes d’une oeuvreaite de peintures, de sculptures etd’installations monumentales.

From January 2013, the Henri CartierBresson Foundation in Paris presentsthe remarkable private collection o Howard Greenberg, a gallery ownerrom New York. One hundred mas-terpieces, characteristic o the wisechoices o the collector are shown inpublic or the rst time. Do not missan occasin to see exceptional prints

including Dorothea Lange’s Migrant Mother , Identical Twins by Diane Ar-bus, or Welsh Miners by Eugene Smith.

Au croisement de l’anthropologie, del’histoire de l’art ancien et contem-porain, de la mode et des mœurs,l’exposition met en œuvre les prob-lématiques de l’intime individuel etsa sociabilité sur le thème universeldes cheveux. Comparant les coquet-teries en Papouasie Nouvelle-Guinée,celles des belles citadines aricainesou des artistes de la haute coiure,l’exposition avance vers l’idée du ma-

tériau humain à modeler, à sculpter,support à la ois de savoir-aire, de larelativité de la beauté mais aussi ob- jet de perte, symbole du temps quipasse, de la maladie et de la mort.

content adapted rom parisino.com/




M

URBAINES

OBILITÉS




As I was walking through Paris last sum-mer, it suddenly struck me how manypeople nowadays are using their smart-phones to capture the small and greatmoments o their lie. Swarms o tour-ists were taking pictures o Paris’ uniquecityscapes or posing together in ront o monuments, instagram-ing sel-portraits.In today’s age o digital immediacy, notonly do we want to see our pictures rightaway, but sharing them online, which is

just a tap away on our devices, has become the standard or many. In act, itis estimated that 40% o pictures and videos are now produced on mobiledevices. The democratization o media has reached such a level that pho-tography is now accessible to anyone – actually, it’s probably sitting rightthere in your pocket. The IPhone holds a camera with picture qualities com-parable to most point and shoot cameras, sports a large screen or ramingand viewing, and is the one camera that you will actually use, because it’s

ready at a moment’s notice and you are probably carrying it around already.

This idea has spawned a vivid online community o enthusiasts, whoproduce artistic photographs using their iPhones, and coined the portman-teau Iphoneography. There are a number o things you can do to exploit theIPhone’s ull potential. Here are some tips to take impressive photos:

• Snapspeed (iOS/Android) is a great photo editing app overall. The inter-ace is easy to understand and ree o any clutter. I love using the “selec-tive adjust” unction to add detail to some parts o the image withoutaecting the rest.

• The App Photosynth (Windows

Phone/iOS/Android) allows youto make really cool 3D-lookingpanoramas you can pan aroundin.

• For serious enthusiasts, check out

Photo Forge 2 (iOS). It has manyadvanced editing eatures and itis the closest thing to Photoshopyou can nd in the App Store. (Ed.

IPHONE PHOTOGRAPHYwith Ry




i Chua

Note: Adobe has since released

a very limited version of Photo-

shop for Mobile)

• Skies with sunset colors orlarge cloud ormations aboveyour subject oten produce

awesome photos. Try Addingsome contrast to your clouds

without aecting the rest using “Selective Adjust” in Snap-speed.

• Go very near your subject to create a nicelyblurred background or a very “proessional” look.

• Use the Iphone’s HDR unction in scenes with high con-trast to capture more detail.

• The App Photo Toaster (iOS) has really great editing eects and built-inand its simple interace oers endless possibilities.

• Almost DSLR (iOS, Android alternatives exist) is an app that allows you toadjust and lock the exposure (brightness) and ocus while you’re taking pic-

tures. It gives you more control and is a great replacement or the deaultcamera app.

These ve pictures displaysome o what it is possible toachieve using IPhoneography.I have decided to include pic-ture o both Paris and Singa-pore, a city which I grealy loveand return to almost every year.Paris has the historic charmo “old Europe”, with plenty o Haussmannian buildings and

the eternal “dame de er” watching over it. Singapore,on the other hand, is pulsating with modernity, sportsa great deal o uturistic architecture and is a symbol o the dynamism o 21st century Asia. My two cities havedierent mentalities and outlooks on the world, and Iam lucky to be able to experience both.




CIT

Qu’ils sont beaux, les nuages pastel du lointain,Qui s’évaporent, aux premières heures de la nuit,

Qui fuient d’entre nos doigts, du creux de notre main,Et vers l’horizon perdu, sombrent dans l’oubli.

Déjà, le ciel se drape d’une défroque grise,Et crache sur nos têtes son venin acide.

Sur les murs de nos villes, vient s’écraser la briseGrinçante, qui expire dans un sifflement sordide.

Les mornes lumières se diffusent dans l’air du soir,Essences fantômes, aux couleurs épuisées,

Et projettent sur les murs de nos immeubles noirs,D’affreux spectres rieurs, au sourire rusé.

Bâtiments abîmés et ternis au fil des ans,Demeures devenues sépulcres saisissants,

Les immeubles, en légions identiques,

Se dressent comme pylônes d’une immense fabrique.

La Cité,c’est êtretrop à communier et ainsi ne pas commu-nier. C’est être seul au milieu de tous, c’est lasolitude dans un palais plein, et à la n, c’estune solitude plus seule que celle de sa pro-pre inertie dans le vide.

La Cité, c’est une corde jamais détendue, mais pourtant

sonnant toujours, dissonamment. Et en cette vibration, toutes nos

cordes – les voix étrangères, les bruits amiliers, les pas précipités, lesmasques de er.

La Cité, c’est l’artisan et son œuvre.

Forgée au ourneau, de nos mains, de notre sueur, Elle pèse

le Monde, car de celui-ci elle est aite. De terre et er, Elle s’amasse,

inexible, et le ouet haut, Nous la domptons. Front plissé, puis

tordu résolument, le dernier muscle convulsant mais au bord de sa

peine, Nous l’abattons. Elle grince et se tortille, et des éclats électr-

iques jaillissent de ce cadavre, dont le tombeau sera son enclume.

La tâche sera impitoyable. Nous tordons, açonnons, dégurons pour

l’esthétique, d’un dernier coup, dont le prochain aussi sera dernier,

jusqu’à-ce qu’Elle soit réduite à un bouillonnement inernal de mat-

ière. Et la bête, épuisée par la coalition de eu et de orce, ait silence.

Elle est domptée, egie de notre puissance.

Mais aux cendres de la bête s’ajoute notre chair, et de cet acte la bête prend conscience, Elle vole notre

conscience. Le cadavre bestial devient machine, machine inexorable de l’activité humaine. Elle crie le jour,




TÉe de L’émir Omar Chéhaboème de Ludwig GuèganPhoto de Thomas Sittler

Du creux des ruelles affluent êtres rachitiques,Et serpentent des jeux d’ombres et lumières,Qui se mêlent aux miasmes et effluves toxiques,

D’une grouillante et féroce fourmilière.

Et, par delà les cris, les odeurs et les ombres,Les échos funèbres d’un clocher noir,

Arrachent à mes yeux devenus aveugles et sombres,Les dernières lueurs d’un mourant espoir.

Ô ma cité…Toi qui couvre ma pauvre tête,D’un ciel déchiré d’éclairs et d’un formidable tonnerre, Tu es devenu le repaire d’un millier de ces bêtes,Qui rongent, où qu’ils aillent, les restes de leur Terre.

Ô ma cité…Laisse moi mourir aujourd’hui,Laisse moi oublier les ombres et les odeurs,

De l’infâme usine de crasse, de larmes et de suie,Dont les cris trop humains, m’empreignent d’horreur.

Ô ma cité…Que les temps t’ont changés,

Noircissant tes pierres et pourrissant ton eau…Voilà trop longtemps que l’homme, défiguré

A creusé en tes entrail les, son propre caveau.

grince la nuit, sie incessamment, et alors que l’aube point d’un œil indo-

lent, Elle pompe de l’eau dans le corps de la Cité, brute, acharnée, turbulente,

et sans repos. Et chaque heure de plus, Nous buvons de son eau, nous pro-

tégeons de son abri, et vivons dans ses compartiments. Rempart contre le

reste, Elle est notre geôle, car par notre aection, Elle Nous orge, et Nous

voilà orgés par celle qui de nos mains ut aite.

Dès lors que l’artisan et l’œuvre se sont mutuellement reconstruits, s’opère

une liaison dangereuse et perverse. Car, chacun aigé de l’autre, imposant, il

se crée une dépendance qui, même cela, surpasse. Et si, comme des ressorts

tendus, Nous devions gronder toujours doucement, daknein Nous ne erons

pas. Et si, comme à une langueur nostalgique, Elle devait songer à la matière

du passé, daknein Elle ne era pas. Et Nous avons dicté cet édicte.

La Cité, c’est un congrès humain, un agrégat incertain, une

abrication gloriée ; une expression, une eusion,

une conception diusée ; la usion de métal et de chair,

la conusion identitaire – à la lisière de l’homme et de l’édice.

Et après tout, la langue n’est-elle pas

notre Cité ? Façonnée de nos mains,

elle prit vie, et Nous modela à son

tour, pour Nous aire prisonniers,

Nous, les maîtres de la geôle…




Echappattoire d’une oasis de calme parisien.

LA VILLEBruyante, mouvante, elle s’étire à l’inniChangeante, brillante, n’éteint ses eux qu’après minuit

La ville

Chaque heure qui passe elle ait le plein de souvenirsEt de millions de pas, les tracesLa ont toujours un peu vieillirLa ville

Ardente, impatiente, elle nous emporte et nous dissoutDe mille visages elle se déguise et elle se joueDans ses rues qui serpentent pour de simples détours

Nous égarons nos pas jusqu’à la n du jour

De sombres existences ont oulé ses pavésLa villeMais parois immortelle lorsqu’elle peut abriterDes gures illustres aux grandes destinées

Savante souveraine, à la tombée du jourElle se pare, magicienne, de ses plus beaux atoursEt tous les pauvres hères, les princes des aubourgsViennent brûler leurs ailes à tous ses mots d’amour

ARDENTE, IMPATIENTE,ELLE NOUS EMPORTEET NOUS DISSOUT

“”

Aurélien Achache




WHEN I FIRST CAME to Paris I didn’tsee it. I didn’t see what Americanswould eagerly declaim “Europeancharm”. Didn’t see the beauty in theway caes light up like urban re-ies. Didn’t see the way shops pull

metal mesh over the boutique storeronts, over pat-ent leather shoes and sylphlike perume bottles. Didn’tsmell just-baked-bread and French eclairs walking toschool every morning or appreciate the biting chill onSeptember mornings bundled up in my coat. So blaséwas I that I had no desire even to enjoy the years I wasbound to spend in Paris: I wanted to keep Parisians as

awul, owl-aced, grey-clad men rushing around on their routine days. I didn’t want to see. Eventually I did.I opened my eyes to see more and slowly saw the benets o an ohand “oh, I’m French” comment to anyAmerican.

That’s what I was thinking o when I walked down my stairs -- two by two, a skill I’d mastered only a ew years

back. Paris. There was a duality about it that appealed to me. On one hand it was cold, it rained oten, andpeople glared at you. It was the city I lived in now, the place that was worn and amiliar like a pair o shoesthat had lost their appeal and skulked in corners, your eet’s riends o convenience. But on the other, therewas this glamorous acade to Paris that I glimpsed occasionally, when my mind was open enough: the Pariseveryone talked about, the Paris lovers wanted to marry in, the Paris o bridges that arch their backs overthe Seine like yawning cats. The Paris o toothpick-thin models stalking down runways in extravagant cloth-ing. The Paris o earthy perumes and cobbled roads. The Paris that existed in pretty pictures and people’simaginations.

It was morning now and that was the Paris I was straining to see through eyes still hazy with sleep. The

weather was the kind o September mornings: not cold, but risky enough to redden your nose and nip atyour hands i you dared take them out o your pockets. I was wearing boots, and every step I took markedout a distinct rhythm on the sidewalk. It was a noise similar to icking a lighter open and closed: a sound socommonplace it turned hypnotic, like a word you repeat so many times it loses meaning.

In the distance the roos o my city cut jagged lines across the lactose-pink sky like misshapen jigsaw puzzlepieces that would never really t together. Windows glanced down impassively, seeming to avert their gazewhen the sun glistened across the glass. I took a sharp let turn, glancing down the street as I crossed, a habitthat was more reexive than conscious. The path I took every morning was now so well-worn that I didn’tneed to think about it at all, and that was both satisying and mournul.

So maybe it was. Maybe on days where I’d barelyscrounged a ew hours o sleep and it was too coldto possibly be real Paris wouldn’t be anything but ahellhole. Maybe on days where rain ell like an unin-terrupted sheet and people pulled hats down overtheir ears and turned collars up and opened um-brellas with ourishes o annoyance I had no desirewhatsoever to enjoy the City o Lights. But the nextday, when the pavement still smelled o rain andsunshine nally crept back through the heavens and

into the mortal world, those were the days whereParis was my city.

Anne-Sophie Bine

BRYANT PARK, NEW YORK

PONT ROYAL, PARISPhotos by Maxine Dannat




ERSPECPStravangerBy Matteo Toanin

When Ms Hynum told me about this project I immediatelythought about the one place that has let the most memories,and where I have spent a long part o my lie. That is the cityStavanger in Norway. Stavanger is a beautiul place and Natureis apparent everywhere, it is part o our lie. Most people whomove to Norway ail to notice the beauty o Norwegian naturebecause are too busy whining about the weather. In and aroundStavanger there are lots o mountains, fords and beaches tovisit but it is also oten raining, overcast or windy. But Norwe-gians simply go about their lives in Stavanger and are still veryhappy, even i it is pouring rain. Kids dressed in ull rain gearsplash about happily in puddles. So Norwegians have come up

with a saying: “ There is no bad weather, only bad clothes”.

Paris is an opposite to Stavanger and moving required someadaptation. I have come to ully appreciate the Nature in Nor-way, despite the unorgiving weather. So when you want to seeNature, don’t let the weather daunt you. Dress warmly, keep dryand go out!

Beth Anna Hynum’s 3° adaptation class has been working

on a project that treats the idea o what a city “says” andexpression through text. The class is composed o studentsrom very many cities worldwide. These extracts rom theproject refect the indiviudal creative approahes with whichthey have transormed their personal stories into diverseworks o art.




IVES

SeoulBy JiYoun Jeon

Seoul is the capital city o South Korea. The best wordto describe the eatures o Seoul is “DYNAMIC”. In Seoul,people are very ast and busy and accept new trendsvery quickly. Many people are working rom dawn tillnight. The speed o working in Seoul is very ast. In con-trast, Paris is very slow and calm. There are a lot o “oldashioned” buildings, and most people do not ollowspecial trend in ashion. They are enjoying their ownashion.

In this artwork, I tried to show the busy day o peoplein Seoul. The words mean “Hurry up! I’m busy”. Then, Iwanted to express the brightness o the light in Seoulwith yellow and black.

I love both the busy Seoul and the calm Paris. There area lot o thing to learn rom each other’s cultures.

BeijingBy Laurent Wu

My city is Beijing. It used to be beautiul when there weren’t many people.But as the population increased rapidly, there were more and more modern

buildings and vehicles, and most beauties o Beijing vanished. No more si-lence. The sky is grey most o the time. You see people everywhere you look.

So I pictured it in this way. All stus are stuck together just like Beijing now.Lie in Paris now isn’t bad and there’s a lot un at school. I’m learning French,which is very hard. Paris is so dierent rom Beijing. Pleasant weather, deli-cious ood and ree space. I like it.




Issue 13: HeritageGet excited or the next issue with a theme specially chosen by the neweditors, Aili Niimura and Sophie Benson.

You too can participate!Send your work to [email protected] until May 30th.




Meet Our Contributors:

Ryuji Chua1ère IB

Maxine DannatTer IB

Matteo Toanin3° Adaptation

Ludwig GuéganTer ES

Anne-Sophie Bine1ere IB

L’Emir Omar Chébab

Ter ES

Laurent Wu3° Adaptation

Aurélien Achache1ere L

JiYoun Jeon3° Adaptation

bilingues et artistes issue 12.city

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