Travels

Why is it called “gay Paree?” I have no idea. If you look you can see the open soul of the city anywhere along the Seine from the Quai de Javel to the Quai Saint-Bernard. It is there, along the banks of the river and among the bridges, that you touch the spirit of Paris, and while that spirit is not a tragic one, surely it has little to do with gaiety. Rather, it bears witness to an essential consciousness of the need in life for beauty, and to an understanding of the use of proportion and harmony in the achievement of beauty. It provides the artist with heartening, ever-present proof that man-made beauty is attainable, and does so in such a natural fashion that when one thinks of the banks of the Seine one thinks simultaneously of artists, for the two belong together.

For Paris is a city whose customs have evolved from a serious application of the theory that life is meant above all to be lived, and not dedicated to some ulterior abstract concept. It is a city designed to be lived in, not to be used as a market or workshop.

I wonder how many thousands of miles I myself must have covered, walking in the streets there, from the Bois de Vincennes to the Buttes-Chaumont, from Auteuil to Charenton, always seeking to penetrate, understand, participate in the sense of mystery that enveloped the city, looking for lost quarters that nobody knew, unearthing strange little alleys that were like nothing I had ever seen before, and many of which still remain intact as images in my mind’s eye. Infinite variety in a harmonious whole, the certainty of discovering something new and poignant each day -such things give the artist who lives in Paris a sense of satisfaction and spiritual well-being. I think it is they, rather than the more tangible benefits Paris provides, that make it the principal gathering place for artists from every part of the world.