Fire is cooler than we are

Last night, Amalea and I decided to go out to the equivalent of the Bronx of Paris and watch a fireworks show by the same group that lit up the Eiffel tower at the coming of the millennium. The metro we rode to the show was so tightly packed that a Japanese and a Czech man were convinced that I was French, and thus decided to converse in English with each other yet in French with me. It must have been the heat. Most of my answers were “ehh, oui!” when most of what I was thinking was “ehh, qoui?.” (sp?)

A sea of people descended onto the grounds of the closest thing to Central Park that I have seen in Paris as of yet. Naturally, it being Paris, the lawn of this “park” was trimmed down to the point that you questioned its consistency (was this grass or perhaps a French-developed synthetic substance that removed the scratchy qualities of Astroturf but could still be controlled at all times? But then, I don't know, French development as a concept sounded funny. Oh France, just let your gardens/grass grow, give it a shot).

I digress. Anyway, there must have been tens of thousands of people to see this event. It was essentially an outdoor pyrotechnic opera; a combination of fire, fireworks, acrobatics, and live music. The theme of the event was, quite simply, destruction and rebirth, but mainly destruction.

Artists on stage would be playing instruments (much like someone would play drums or the cello) upon which bursting flames of fire would emit from a series of pipes spread out as far as hundreds of feet away, spanning across the enormous stage. A staged building was destroyed, bursting into fireworks and flames, and the artists even reenacted the likes of a failed American Apollo mission, which somehow led to what I think was the destruction of the world.

The final act of the performance was a rhythmically (impeccably) timed fireworks show that would put Grucci to shame. It was extraordinary; the sky was filled with streams of light and expertly chosen, understated color.

So, by now, you may be thinking, as I thought on the metro, “ehh…quoi?” I understand, it sounds loopy, which it was. But, for those of you who know me well, there is a side of me that thrives on the destructive. So I had a great time. It really made me feel, which is what I think good art should do (as Amalea aptly pointed out on the ride home).

So my conclusion(s): fire is cool. Really cool, in fact. And the French gardening community needs to take a deep breath and put the lawn mower and shrub cutters away for a few.