Loïc Prigent has a fine, selective ear. From February 25 to April 2, the things he heard
Gleaned at the Bon Marché Rive Gauche are the subject of an unprecedented exhibition: “Heard
Market” »by Loïc Prigent. Installation in an immaculate graphical space of white objects
Printed in black of the best “words” of the store visitors. Pretty way to see that, with regard to language, funny and creativity are widely shared gifts!
A long friendship links Loïc Prigent to the Bon Marché Rive Gauche which has already collaborated 3 times for the big shop. For “Heard at the Bon Marché”, he enjoys himself on familiar ground, recalling that this place of fashion and culture is above all a place of life and exchange. Let’s hear it:
“These are sentences heard at the Bon Marché. For a few Days, I let my ears drag on to the Rive Gauche department stores. And I have heard all those who make the Bon Marché a heart of Parisian life. There are very comfortable regulars, the tourists in full discovery of the parisianité, the seasoned sellers, the sellers with banter, the children temporarily neglected: “You are lost? your mom? She’s in shoes!”. There is lightness, there is frivolity, there is cocassery, there is common sense. It is a carelessness that we hear, we are in a place apart: It is a sublime cloak in which nothing serious can happen to you. “A propitious place:” I hate my new hairstyle, I am destabilized. I need to be lied to.
“A place where you can builds defenses and an effective shell: “That’s pretty what you’re wearing.” “I know.” Fairly common phrase and which kindly leaps the staff is: “Is that your checkout? “I had to be asked this question which I had probably already asked for me to realize the funny thing about it, and also that I spent a little too much time at the Bon Marché.
“I want a heel that makes a beautiful sexy noise when I walk.” Yes, of course, it’s obvious, and I understand exactly what this client means, the effect she is looking for as for the others. There is the man very chatelain with the voice of baritone who thunder: “Find me a sweater! “To a salesman, and another to whom one should not ask for his size: “But how do you want me to know?” Every day, stories like this woman who refuses to go out on closure because she still has to find her scarf and that she has a plane to Moscow that evening. In her logic, the Bon Marché must not shut up before her neck is protected from the Russian cold.
Le Bon Marché is a parallel universe, a protected world where one seeks an ideal. Follow us, accompany our strolling with their singular and delightful melody.
