Paris Dreaming Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Anita Heiss
from my shoulder to almost shoo me away with a flick of his wrist.
'What for? It is a media release, we do them all the time.'
With a hint of confusion and some frustration in my voice I said, 'It's just that back home we always have the relevant curator read the copy before it is released, it's a process we follow. We generally have a quote by the curator as well. Would you like me to write something?'
'Elizabeth, it is my job to know the language to use with French media.' Adrien was clearly pissed off.
'I'm sure Elizabeth understands your role, Adrien,' Canelle came to my aid.
'Of course,' I said. 'Adrien, I don't question your knowledge of the media at all, but I don't think you could possibly know what I would say. If you could please send me the draft I will insert my own quote.'
The lift door opened just in time to prevent a major argument and he exited. I felt hot with embarrassment and anger that already I had a white man wanting to write my words. I understood that organisations everywhere worked differently, but this was just plain wrong. I was worried what Canelle might think.
'Do not take it personally, he is like that with everyone,' she said, before I had a chance to ask. 'He is very good with the media, but sometimes thinks he is the one that runs this place. He is only on contract here while our head of marketing is on leave. I think he likes flexing his male muscle while his very strong female boss is away. I will make sure you get the draft release.'
My blood stopped simmering towards a boil when we reached Michael Riley's 'cloud' series along the ramp wall on the ground floor. It was what I had waited and wanted to see more than anything since reading about it back at the NAG. It took my breath away to see his iconic images ' particularly the boomerang and the feather ' so large and so dominant in this amazing institution. The site was beautiful and I knew that no matter whether viewers got the intended messages of the artist or they translated their own message, everyone would walk away having felt an emotional reaction to the work. At that moment, I had never been more proud of being a Blackfella working in the arts.
The tour continued into the Claude Lévi-Strauss Theatre, the cinema and the range of venues for cultural education activities. We finished at the café and I was already overwhelmed with what I had seen and heard.
'I must go to another meeting. You should have a coffee now and then read this.' Canelle handed me a press kit titled Arts and Civilisation of Africa, Asia, Oceania and the Americas . 'Spend the rest of the day going through the collections slowly, getting to know the layout. There is much to see.'
Canelle walked off and I sat at an outside table with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. I couldn't believe this would be my life for the next five months. I vowed to sit there every day for coffee and then looked at the prices on the menu. It was equivalent to $9 for a cappuccino, $8 for a Diet Coke, and the same price for a rosé! I may as well have a wine for that. I decided that breakfast once a week at Le Café Branly would be my indulgence, my working gift to myself.
I ordered a café cr¨me and the corbeille de viennoiseries ' an assortment of three mini-pastries. I felt particularly French and very, very lucky ' much like a Very Important Indigenous Person or VIIP as Emma would say. I took my camera out of my bag and snapped my coffee, cakes and the tower to email to Lauren. I knew she would be green with envy, especially when I told her about the coffee and chocolate special they had there. I'd try that next time.
As Canelle recommended, I spent the rest of the day weaving in and out of the exhibitions, acquainting myself with the space and the collections. I knew it would take me weeks, probably months to look at the displays
'What for? It is a media release, we do them all the time.'
With a hint of confusion and some frustration in my voice I said, 'It's just that back home we always have the relevant curator read the copy before it is released, it's a process we follow. We generally have a quote by the curator as well. Would you like me to write something?'
'Elizabeth, it is my job to know the language to use with French media.' Adrien was clearly pissed off.
'I'm sure Elizabeth understands your role, Adrien,' Canelle came to my aid.
'Of course,' I said. 'Adrien, I don't question your knowledge of the media at all, but I don't think you could possibly know what I would say. If you could please send me the draft I will insert my own quote.'
The lift door opened just in time to prevent a major argument and he exited. I felt hot with embarrassment and anger that already I had a white man wanting to write my words. I understood that organisations everywhere worked differently, but this was just plain wrong. I was worried what Canelle might think.
'Do not take it personally, he is like that with everyone,' she said, before I had a chance to ask. 'He is very good with the media, but sometimes thinks he is the one that runs this place. He is only on contract here while our head of marketing is on leave. I think he likes flexing his male muscle while his very strong female boss is away. I will make sure you get the draft release.'
My blood stopped simmering towards a boil when we reached Michael Riley's 'cloud' series along the ramp wall on the ground floor. It was what I had waited and wanted to see more than anything since reading about it back at the NAG. It took my breath away to see his iconic images ' particularly the boomerang and the feather ' so large and so dominant in this amazing institution. The site was beautiful and I knew that no matter whether viewers got the intended messages of the artist or they translated their own message, everyone would walk away having felt an emotional reaction to the work. At that moment, I had never been more proud of being a Blackfella working in the arts.
The tour continued into the Claude Lévi-Strauss Theatre, the cinema and the range of venues for cultural education activities. We finished at the café and I was already overwhelmed with what I had seen and heard.
'I must go to another meeting. You should have a coffee now and then read this.' Canelle handed me a press kit titled Arts and Civilisation of Africa, Asia, Oceania and the Americas . 'Spend the rest of the day going through the collections slowly, getting to know the layout. There is much to see.'
Canelle walked off and I sat at an outside table with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. I couldn't believe this would be my life for the next five months. I vowed to sit there every day for coffee and then looked at the prices on the menu. It was equivalent to $9 for a cappuccino, $8 for a Diet Coke, and the same price for a rosé! I may as well have a wine for that. I decided that breakfast once a week at Le Café Branly would be my indulgence, my working gift to myself.
I ordered a café cr¨me and the corbeille de viennoiseries ' an assortment of three mini-pastries. I felt particularly French and very, very lucky ' much like a Very Important Indigenous Person or VIIP as Emma would say. I took my camera out of my bag and snapped my coffee, cakes and the tower to email to Lauren. I knew she would be green with envy, especially when I told her about the coffee and chocolate special they had there. I'd try that next time.
As Canelle recommended, I spent the rest of the day weaving in and out of the exhibitions, acquainting myself with the space and the collections. I knew it would take me weeks, probably months to look at the displays
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