Living the bohemian dream
Paris has forever been the revolutionary capital of Europe; the provider of human rights, civil liberties and power to the people. French revolutionary philosophies have arguably shaped the western world in that the concept of all powerful Monarchy and powerless people is now extinct. Parallel to its rich and extensive history which has seen five republics, a fascist dictatorship, an Orleanist monarchy and two Empires, Paris has over time acquired the reputation of ‘capitale bohémienne.’ Paris is the soul city of pilgrimage, the one source of inspiration for the many authors, artists and long haired philosophers who seek to establish themselves in the heart of ‘Europe’s capital city’. It is after all a city of romance, smoke, poetry, art, sex, and a language which makes the word boulangerie sound sexy
Today, I find myself in the centre of Paris’s fourteenth arrondissement, just south of the river and a short walk from the famous Boulevard Saint Michel. Just two weeks after my arrival in Paris, I am sharing my living space with an Australian author, an American student at l’école polytechnique and an English lecturer at the Sorbonne. The landlord is an artist who used to be a soldier in the French foreign legion. Admittedly, such a mixture was never predicted.
Sitting in the living room I am swallowed up by an array of paintings of different styles, paint splashed concrete floor, retro leather couches, work benches, paint brushes, decorative Christmas lighting, wood panelling, steep staircases and vibrant sheeting hanging from various parts of the ceiling. One can be forgiven for thinking such a logement was a thing of the past. In fact, while rudely and inconspicuously peering into various studio flats on my way to the bus I see rooms full of half finished paintings. At the end of the road I still see Monsieur ‘béret with moustache’. An art student crosses at the lights ahead of me, intact with art portfolio and long baggy shirt. Here and now in this moment it is comforting to know that just round the corner from leading French department store, Galaries Lafayette, there is still a real, breathing Bohemian paradise which exists in Paris. In a world of globalised markets, thriving tourism and media culture Paris still holds on to its roots.
It seems Paris is the bearer of an unblemished artistic reputation with the Louvre at its centre. A week ago, I met a boy who without objective cycled to Paris from Brighton on the southern English coast in order to successfully pursue his jazz guitar career. Such unique anecdotes incarnate Paris’s artistic magnetism.
Paris is so much more than its major tourist attractions and café bars. In certain areas Paris is timeless, motionless, psychedelic and beyond the boundaries of reality. One hopes French bohemian culture is not forced to give way to larger more economically successful institutions. For now, at least the hidden side to Parisian bohemian culture is here to stay.
Today, I find myself in the centre of Paris’s fourteenth arrondissement, just south of the river and a short walk from the famous Boulevard Saint Michel. Just two weeks after my arrival in Paris, I am sharing my living space with an Australian author, an American student at l’école polytechnique and an English lecturer at the Sorbonne. The landlord is an artist who used to be a soldier in the French foreign legion. Admittedly, such a mixture was never predicted.
Sitting in the living room I am swallowed up by an array of paintings of different styles, paint splashed concrete floor, retro leather couches, work benches, paint brushes, decorative Christmas lighting, wood panelling, steep staircases and vibrant sheeting hanging from various parts of the ceiling. One can be forgiven for thinking such a logement was a thing of the past. In fact, while rudely and inconspicuously peering into various studio flats on my way to the bus I see rooms full of half finished paintings. At the end of the road I still see Monsieur ‘béret with moustache’. An art student crosses at the lights ahead of me, intact with art portfolio and long baggy shirt. Here and now in this moment it is comforting to know that just round the corner from leading French department store, Galaries Lafayette, there is still a real, breathing Bohemian paradise which exists in Paris. In a world of globalised markets, thriving tourism and media culture Paris still holds on to its roots.
It seems Paris is the bearer of an unblemished artistic reputation with the Louvre at its centre. A week ago, I met a boy who without objective cycled to Paris from Brighton on the southern English coast in order to successfully pursue his jazz guitar career. Such unique anecdotes incarnate Paris’s artistic magnetism.
Paris is so much more than its major tourist attractions and café bars. In certain areas Paris is timeless, motionless, psychedelic and beyond the boundaries of reality. One hopes French bohemian culture is not forced to give way to larger more economically successful institutions. For now, at least the hidden side to Parisian bohemian culture is here to stay.












