Should you find yourself in the need to transport yourself to Paris in 1905, to sink your toes into bold colour pigments and feel yellows and reds travel up your limbs and irradiate your core, pop across to @fjordreview to read my response to The Australian Ballet’s ‘The Merry Widow’, as weightless and incandescent as it shone; light, bright, and all the better to view an absinthe coloured, S-bend corseted gown, my dear.
Head to: https://www.fjordreview.com/merry-widow-australian-ballet/
At the Paris Universal Exhibition at the turn of the twentieth century, where it was said Debussy first heard Javanese gamelan music, near everything newly-discovered or newly-made could be found. The Eiffel Tower, now synonymous with Paris, for one; the world-encompassing scale of the Galerie des machines where visitors could delight in discovering atmospheric hammers, cigarette makers, phonographs, and telephones, another. Add to this a colonial exhibition of the ‘other’ from across land and sea masses; the Imperial, the largest diamond in the world; and a giant wooden and stucco elephant, which was later purchased and placed alongside an infamous red windmill, the Moulin Rouge, to render complete the Jardin de Paris Elephant. For a franc, a gentleman could enter the elephant’s body, by way of a staircase twisting up one of its legs, and find themselves in an opium den and a froth of belly dancers. 🐘
(Image credit: @ausballet’s Adam Bull and Kirsty Martin in 'The Merry Widow’, photographed by Jeff Busby, and the Jardin de Paris Elephant)