At the Royal Stables


Today I went to the Stables, the Small ones. Actually, the Big and the Small ones are exactly the same size, but the Big Stables is where the carriages were kept and it was more like a parking lot; whereas, the Small Stables were all about hunting; they even kept the wild boar there, so that the horses would get used to the vicious animals and wouldn’t panic. The boar, after years of captivity were so used to the location that when released by the pranksters, wouldn’t run to the forest and remained in town for months. Nobody dared to bother them because at some point a rabid dog was involved in their chase, so the boar were left alone roaming around Versailles, peacefully eating garbage throughout the winter of 1779-1780.

So I went there today because the Architecture School students had a show, the Small Stables has long become the School of Architecture. The previous event was worthless, but I am patient. And this time I walk in and keep going to the showroom to take a look all by myself. The guy who is there wants to say something, but I am not as patient as before, first I want to see whatever it is for myself. So I walk in and out, around, and I don’t see anything. You can imagine my myopic face as I come back to the gentleman and ask for directions to the piece of art that is exhibited there. He hands me a pamphlet. I see a photo, one more time interrupt his verbal output and stare at this sublime work in front of me.

Yes, this is the experience to share. A monumental nothing discretely attached itself to the drywall hall, perfectly merging its own ceiling with the acoustic ceiling. The mostrosity is constructed out of the gray cardboard, it blocks the passage, its gargantuan physical presence dominates the room, and it still remains invisible. The tidings of joy, the ones that you feel when facing a panorama of Yosemite or the Monument Valley, rolled along my vertebra. I wanted to giggle yet I couldn’t. Los Angeles has been polluted throughout the eighties by the megalomaniac metal sculpture which has been irritating my eyes for the last twenty years, and now in front of this quiet parasite I felt like a mouse inside its cheese. 

 

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This entry was posted in Chateau Versailles, Royal Stables, The Versailles School of Architecture, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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