Pause & Punctuate

As I enter and take a seat, Charles Budaleraire , Walter Benjamin , Deleuze and Guattarri are sat at a table nearby , in conversation , on another table Krzysztof Kieslowski can be over heard in conversation with John Luc Godard and Bernardo Bertolluci , they seem to be discussing cinemas response to May 68 , R.B.Kitaj sits alone engrossed in his daily journal , contemplating a walk to Pigalle , the view over his left shoulder resembles an early painting by Bonnard , now living in self imposed exile from the city that had done so much to nurture his art ,but which he has now abandoned following the suicide of his lover , Rennee Monchaty .

Benjamin is discussing a number of postcards he has bought whilst out on one of his daily walks around the city, with Baudelaire, the two men are speculating as to the exact location of Manets dejeurner surl herbe and the inclusion of a frog at bottom right?, Deleuze, dismissive of any artists intentions, drifts and finds himself lost in the image framed by the window over Kitaj’s left shoulder as Parisians pass by on the boulevard Saint Germain and onto Rue saint Benoit. The window reminiscent of a still from one of Eric Rohmers comedies and proverbs, l amour de midi? , the new wave in stark contrast to Flore’s art décor interior, a waiter produces an iPhone and captures the scene to upload to his Instagram account, Berlollucis film the dreamers had influenced his decision to move to Paris from Limoges and here only metres away is the director himself, he is tempted to ask permission to take a selfie, but the Café Flore has always respected the privacy of its celebrity clientele, so he zooms in from a respectful distance .

I sip my coffee, Deleuze, reverie now broken, quotes Derrida in an attempt to question Husserl’s concepts of phenomenology, despite certain similarities with his own theories’ and approach to research, his comments seem random in the flow of conversation, possibly directed to Baudelaire, who at this point is talking about the statue opposite, from which the café takes its name. Benjamin’s attentions are elsewhere however, still focused on the object in his hand, a postcard from the Louvre.

I finish my coffee, close the studio door behind me and walk out into the city. I moved to this studio five years ago, there have been others over the past thirty years and their locations have impacted upon my art.