Several posts ago, I mentioned preparing a presentation for my French class and, because the topic was something I’d wanted to share with you anyway, I promised to translate the presentation and post it here. But then a regular commenter, whom I’ve had the pleasure of meeting twice (in Berlin and in Munich), suggested that I post the Original Version (en français) as well, given that some readers here are French-speakers and others are studying the language. I decided that was a good idea, although I hope that native French speakers will forgive the errors I’ve surely made. . . .
So below, you’ll see the original French italicized, with my English translation immediately following, paragraph by paragraph. . . . .
Novembre 2018, mon amie m’a souhaité un bon voyage et m’a conseillé de visiter une petite boutique L’Ecritoire Paris ou ses cartes de vœux sont vendues. J’avais su que la boutique se trouve à l’ombre du Centre Pompidou, mais quand j’y suis arrivée, j’ai vu que juste en face il y avait une ancienne église –Saint Merri — que j’avais visité plusieurs années plus tôt. Je me suis rappelée qu’il y avait, dedans, une sculpture que j’adore …et j’ai voulu le voir encore une fois.
November 2018, my friend wished me Bon Voyage and advised me to visit a little shop L’Ecritoire Paris where her greeting cards are sold. I’d known that the shop is located in the shadow of the Pompidou Centre, but when I got there, I saw that just across from it was an old church — Saint Merri — that I’d visited several years earlier. I remembered that inside there was a sculpture that I love. . . and that I wanted to see once more.
A l’intérieure, j’ai reconnu immédiatement le sculpture de Pierre de Grauw, intitulé Le Christ aux Outrages – un Jésus qui, selon les mots de l’artiste, « crie de toutes ses forces en face de la bassesse abimant la dignité humaine – « mais quand il souffre lui-même, il se tait. Les deux temps d’une même protestation ; l’une dans la voix, l’autre dans le silence. . . .
Once inside, I immediately recognized the sculpture by Pierre de Grauw, titled Le Christ aux Outrages — a Jesus who, according to the artist “cries with all his force in the face of baseness/mean acts destroying human dignity. . . but when he suffers himself, stays quiet. The two times/expressions of the same protest: one voiced, the other silent” [my translation is rough, I’d take more liberties to get to English that better expresses what he says]
Et là dans le silence sacré de l’église, j’ai vu un œuvre par un autre sculpteur – une sculptrice, je découvrirais – que m’a bouleversée.
And there, in the sacred silence of the church, i saw a work by another sculptor — a female sculptor, I would discover — that blew me away. . .
C’était un installation qui s’appelle #MareNostrum et qui répond à la crise des réfugiés arrivant à l’Europe par mer. Rappelez-vous les images télévisés partout de la naufrage à Lampedusa 2013, des bébés morts au bord de la mer. . . Après cet horreur, il y avait une opération de Recherche et Sauvetage de la Marine Italienne, une opération qui s’appelle Mare Nostrum, soutenue financièrement par la Commission Européen. Mais c’était annulé en 2014 – et en avril 2015 – dans une seule semaine, dans deux naufrages, 1000 migrants se sont noyés
It was an installation called #MareNostrum, a response to the crisis of refugees arriving in Europe by sea. Remember those images, televised everywhere, of the shipwreck at Lampedusa in 2013, dead babies on the shore. . . After this horror, there was a Search and Rescue operation by the Italian Navy, an operation called Mare Nostrum [Latin for Our Sea} supported financially by the European Commission. But this was cancelled in 2014 — and in April 2015, in a single week, in two shipwrecks, 1000 migrants were drowned.
Ici, un petit vidéo dans lequel l’artiste plasticienne parle de son œuvre :
Here’s a little video in which the artist speaks of her work [yes, it’s in French, but even if you can’t follow the words, it’s worth seeing the installation inside this immense, ancient space. . . . and it’s very short, less than two minutes. . .
L’installation – dans cette espace – était très émouvante, d’une triste et sombre beauté – Et après être rentré chez moi, j’ai publié des images et quelque mots sur les médias sociaux: Instagram et aussi mon blog.
The installation — in this space — was very moving, with a sad and somber beauty. And after I returned home, I posted images and some words on Social Media: Instagram and my blogpost
Comment j’étais contente quand la sculptrice – Haude Bernabé — m’a contactée, m’a remerciée. On a commencé à se suivre sur Instagram.
I was so happy when the sculptor — Haude Bernabé — contacted me, thanked me. We began following each other on Instagram.
Et puis, six mois plus tard, le dernier jour d’un autre séjour à Paris, mon mari et moi attendaient le changement d’un feu de circulation Rue de Cherche-Midi juste à Boulevard Raspail, et j’ai entendu un voix m’appelle : Frances ?
And then, six months later, the last day of another stay in Paris, my husband and I were waiting for a traffic light to change at the intersection of Rue de Cherche-Midi and Boulevard Raspail, and I heard a voice calling me: Frances?
Alors, c’est comment ça, qu’en décembre dernier, je me suis assise à coté d’elle dans un petit bar à vin de la Rue Daguerre, et nous avons parlé de beaucoup, beaucoup de choses. . . de nos familles, nos carrières, son art, son récent voyage en Afrique et les esquisses qu’elle a fait de ce voyage, les idées qu’elle a pour des sculptures inspirés par les paysages africains, etc. . . . deux heures, deux verres de vin, et des millier des mots. Des millier des mots français, je suis en hâte de dire, parce que j’étais si heureuse de me débrouiller pas mal. . .
So then, that’s how it happened that, last December, I sat beside her in a little wine bar on Rue Daguerre, and we spoke of many, many things . . . of our families, our careers, her art, her recent trip to Africa and the sketches she’d made of that trip, the ideas she has for sculptures inspired by the African landscapes, etc. . . . two hours, two glasses of wine, and thousands of words. Thousands of French words, I hasten to say, because I was so happy to manage decently in that language. . .
Donc, au fin de notre rendez-vous, Haude m’a demandée si je voudrais visiter son atelier. Et moi, vous avez deviné ma réponse ? Oui, Oui, absolument oui ! Elle m’a invitée à déjeuner chez elle la semaine suivante et je vous assure : Ç’a été un jour inoubliable. Elle habite juste en dehors la peripherique de Paris, et à cause de la grève, il y avait presque aucun transport en commun. J’y suis allée à pied. En route, je me suis arrètée pour achèter des fleurs, pour boire un petit café (parce que je voudrais utiliser la toilette !), pour choisir une bonne bouteille de vin. . . . A chaque arrêt j’ai eu une conversation agréable avec le vendeur ou serveur – tout en français encore. . . .
Then/thus, at the end of our get-together, Haude asked if I would like to visit her studio. Can you guess my answer? Yes, Yes, absolutely yes! She invited me to have lunch at her home the next week and I assure you: That was an unforgettable day. She lives just outside Boulevard Périphérique (the ring road that encircles and defines Paris proper), and because of the strike, there was almost no public transportation. I went to her place on foot. Along the way, I stopped to buy flowers, to have an espresso (because I needed to use the toilet), to choose a good bottle of wine. . . At each stop, I had an enjoyable conversation with the Sales Assistant or waiter, all in French still. . .
Et je suis arrivé chez Haude de très bonne humeur. Je ne pourrais pas vous dire quelle était ma chose favorie de ma visite – le répas ou l’atelier. Toutes les choses de cette journée se mêlangent dans ma mémoire. Je suis entré dans l’atelier – un peu froid avec l’impression d’un vieux garage de mécanicien mais avec beaucoup de lumière graçe a le mur presque entièrement en vitres. Un sol en béton, les anciens escaliers en bois. . . . et les sculptures en métal et bois partout. . . . Après, on est monté les escaliers vers la cuisine, où elle a preparé un délicieux bœuf en daube, une salade verte, et, pour dessert, une bonne tarte aux pommes. Et encore, on a bavardé beaucoup, encore la plupart de la conversation a été en français. . .
And I arrived at Haude’s in a very good mood. I couldn’t tell you what was my favourite thing about the visit — the meal or the studio. Everything from that day mixes together in my memory. I entered the studio — a bit cold with the impression of an old mechanic’s garage but with abundant light thanks to a wall almost entirely of windows. A concrete floor, an old wooden staircase . . . and sculptures in metal and wood everywhere. . . Afterward, we went upstairs to the kitchen, where she had prepared a delicious beef stew (boeuf en daube), a green salad, and, for dessert, a good apple pie. And again, we chatted lots, again most of the conversation was in French.
En partant, elle m’a donné ce livre et j’ai acheté un de ses aquarelles (que j’ai admiré, plus tôt, à l’Instagram.
On parting, she gave me this book and I bought one of her watercolours (which I’d admired earlier on Instagram
et nous nous sommes promis de rester en contact.
And we promised to stay in touch.
Si vous voudrez savoir plus sur cette artiste, il y a un entretien de 11 minutes avec elle sur le chaine France 24, qu’on peut voir ici :
If you’d like to know more about this artist, there’s an 11-minute interview with her on the TV channel France 24
Et aussi, vous seriez peut-étre interessé par son site-web
And you might also be interested in her website.
Merci pour l’écoute. . .
Thanks for listening, was what I said at the end of my French presentation, and this morning, I’ll change that to “Thanks for reading.”
And also, Thank you, in anticipation, for your comments. They’re part of the fuel that keeps me blogging.
xo,
f
Bis! Bis! Encore! I enjoyed reading that in French because a. my brain can still read it with ease and b. I now know the word for sketch in French. Most edifying. What a fantastic story. I hope you got a round of applause.
Thank you for the french. Living in the US just south of Quebec I have learned to “read” the language just enough to get the “gist” of your story. It sounds like you had a wonderful time and certainly an experience that will stay in your heart for a long time. These kinds of encounters, a few of which I have had in my own life, can strengthen feelings of gratitude for a rich life. Carol in VT
Quelle belle histoire de votre visite avec cette artiste et quelle chance vous avez eu de faire sa connaissance! J'ai bien aime (accent on the e -my computer keyboard doesn't have the French type) de la lire!
slf
Wonderful story, Frances. Thank you for this, and for the photographs of the original work you saw in the church, I missed your IG post. The French interspersed with English is a wonderful touch, though it shows me I definitely need the French lessons I wish to add to my days. The work of Haude Bernabé is beautiful and moving, how extraordinary to have been able to visit her studio.
Magnifique!Parfait!
And what a story! Serendipity!-and this is also a word I've learned here
Dottoressa
Merveilleuse! That is my sole contribution in French (thank you for the "English subtitles"–my translation abilities only managed about a third of the French), but it is an expression of my admiration for your translation and your story. Both excellent.
What a marvellous adventure and fun blog post! You should do something like this again. You write as beautifully in French as you do in English. Bravo! Experiences like that are what makes travel so rewarding.
Frances in Sidney
What a wonderful experience, a mix of intention and serendipity! Artists’ studios are special places, alive with creativity and seeming chaos. I loved the kindness and generosity that you and Haude extended to each other. I started reading the French text with a view to reviving my schoolgirl French but I got so excited by the unfolding narrative that I lost patience with my very poor command of that language and soon reverted to English. I am in no position to judge your written French but you should get full marks for story telling!
Oh, how wonderful! I'm going to go back and read the French parts slowly, to try and improve my reading skills.
Her work is very moving, even just seeing the images online. What a serendipitous meeting, too. I was just thinking yesterday about some of the connections that never would have been forged had it not been for this crazy internet.
Thank you so much for sharing this!!
I am not surprised that such a lovely meeting occurred between you and Haude Bernabe. You live life large, Frances, extending yourself out to others. Thank you for sharing this in English. I enjoyed that moment when you heard, "Frances?" What a blessing! Such riches!
charlene h
What a wonderful story. So special to get the chance to meet and talk with the artist after being so moved by her work!
Belle rencontre apparemment, si joliement racontée!
et vous maitrisez trés bien le Francais, Frances! Bien agréable lecture en ce dimanche matin, merci. Sylvie
What a wonderful post. First, the experience of being invited to the artist's studio, to see exactly where she springs from and to enjoy lunch together in such an evocative setting. These are the "pinch me" moments of life; to share it with us is so generous.
I know for sure that I am a thinker and not a feeler when it comes to processing emotions-except when I encounter art, one of my deepest interests. Seeing this exhibit through the lens of your camera the first time on your blog caused me to click away as I found it so disturbing. This time, I looked more closely for a short while; found myself no less moved, but also could not dwell.
I am so impressed with her depiction of these matters and of your ability to seize the moment to enjoy so fully the opportunity of lunch with a fascinating artist.
A.in London
What a wonderful story…dream-like. Thank you so much for including the French.
Annie: Glad you enjoyed it. . . For "sketch," there is also croquis. . .
Carol: Yes! You say this so well — encounters like this, rare as they are, "strengthen gratitude for a rich life" indeed!
SLF: Je suis heureuse que l'article vous ait plu 😉
Katherine: It was so wonderful to be able to visit Haude's atelier, but also simply to have made this connection–with the maker of art that touched me so deeply–through the mix of IRL and "the Internet"
Dottoressa: The serendipity that brought us together 😉
Mary: Merci beaucoup!
Frances: Thank you! As you might imagine, it took me much longer to write the French version than it would have the English, but it's interesting to note the differences it makes and I may just try to do more in the future.
Maria: You are so kind, thanks! I'm very pleased you enjoyed the article — and you're write about the mix of creativity and chaos (although I suspect that's generally deceptive and there's an order we can't always perceive in the chaos 😉
Susan B: Crazy Internet that brought you and I together as well — it's so true: there are many positive aspects to it. You might like to click on the links to the videos as well for French practice. The shorter one (Vimeo) has French subtitles which make the process easier for me.
Charlene: Aw, too kind. Merci! And you're right about that moment — it was so puzzling, incroyable, to hear a voice saying my name in the middle of Paris. . .
Alison: It was really special. 😉
Sylvie: Vous êtes très gentille. . . j'essaie. . . .
A in London: It was a "pinch-me" day! And I know what you're saying about art that really gets to us. I would say that I think about it as well, but usually begin from a response that is more cellular . . . and for the really good stuff there's something that eludes words. . .
Georgia: I'm glad you enjoyed it — and for the French, we must thank Eleonore, because I would have gone straight to translation if not for her suggestion . . .
Wonderful story, and wonderful experience. And thank you for the French. How is it that I can read most of the French easily, but when I try to speak, I grow all tongue-tied and cannot find words? To write? To have a conversation? Wow, but I know you have worked hard, and travelled much with intention. Perhaps my own intention is not so much a lost cause as I assumed? Perhaps I need to learn.
In this post you bring a new perspective to that exhibit from the one in your first post. And I relish the opportunity to reconsider. I shall have to come back to this.
Oh my goodness, what powerful sculptures and what a wonderful story. You had an amazing day and made a friend. I will look up her work and watch the video. My French is weak, but I read all the passages in French and then the English as having the French there makes it so much richer. Brenda
Thank you for posting the French version of your text. It was fun to recognize some of you typical phrases or ways of writing in another language. I am also grateful to have been reminded of that wonderful sculpture/installation which impressed me greatly the first time you mentioned it on your blog. And the problem adressed in this work is still pressing: nowadays, in the absence of efficient rescue operations, the shipwrecked refugees are picked up by Libyan militia, locked up in camps, tortured and sold almost like slaves. (While the EU is looking on.)
Your story of meeting the artist sounds as if it was taken from a film script. The coincidence of running into each other at a traffic light in Paris! And all those little adventures before reaching the studio – a classic. Luckily, you did not have to chop any knight’s head off to be allowed to enter the premises…
What a truly serendipitous, magical day!
Mardel: Thank you! It's true that it takes some work to keep that foundation of French active, but isn't it good to see how much of it is still there!
Brenda: I'm so pleased you enjoyed it — and especially to know that having the French there enriched the reading of the English.
Eleonore; You're very welcome — and thank you for the suggestion that I do that. As for the installation, I'm glad you were so impressed by it — I hope that someday Haude finds a worthy home for it. . . it's still, sadly, very relevant. And it's also beautifully eloquent. (and yes, it's very fortunate there was no decapitation required 😉
Belle: It was!