five french thanksgivings

Berges du Rhône, Lyon, 2007.

I realized the other morning as I was riding the tramway towards Perrache in Lyon, heading to work on Thanksgiving day, that I’ve passed the last five Thanksgiving holidays here, far from home. I arrived in France in the autumn of 2007 and that year, I think I spent Thanksgiving in Lyon actually – visiting Gorky who was in the area on a river cruise traveling the Rhône. The first two Thanksgivings I spent here were rather quiet affairs, a meal on the boat with Gorky in 2007 and a small dinner of the classics with Edd and two other friends, in 2008, the first year we were living together and before I’d really befriended many people here.

It’s one of the moments in the year when I do feel homesick a bit and very nostalgic, remembering my family traditions on this holiday. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday – the focus just on food, friends and family without as much commercial craze raining down and killing the mood. I think about waking up late with my mom and watching the Macy’s day parade, eating with my cousins at the kids table and that unmistakable scent of turkey and stuffing that wafts through the air long after we’ve all stuffed ourselves.

Digging in and breaking ground for new traditions, 2009.

But since I came to France and started my life here, new traditions have slowly been taking root. In 2009, the year I worked as an English teaching assistant (and the year I met my sidekick, Sarah!) Edd and I hosted a big Thanksgiving dinner that brought homesick Americans and curious Europeans to the table.

The first big crowd, Thanksgiving 2009.

A handful of us assistants cooked up the plan and tracked down a turkey. We delegated dishes for others to bring and hosted a huge pot-luck Thanksgiving dinner.

Buffet line-up, 2009.

And thus started a new tradition. Certainly, not a sophisticated affair with elaborate table settings or fancy new recipes – that first time we didn’t even have enough forks and knives for everyone, despite the fact that Sarah and I had pooled all our cutlery together!

Loaded plate, vegetarian style, Thanksgiving 2009.

But it was a raucous, good-time. Frenchies discovering our tradition dishes and comfort food, and the Americans gabbing about family recipes and Thanksgiving rituals. We’d started the evening by spreading out all the extra Thanksgiving-themed coloring pages we’d used in class that week (we were a band of primary school teachers, after all!) and finished digesting our feast over several rounds of Write/Draw/Write/Draw.

Sarah digging in at Thanksgiving 2010.

Naturally, this version of Thanksgiving was a bit hit and the following year, we were all happy to recreate the event. Some old familiar faces, and plenty of new friends too, reconvened to bouffer altogether.

Murphy introduces the French to candied sweet potatoes.

Through this new tradition, I’ve gotten to know the family classics of my American friends here in France, and our French friends (and friends of many other nationalities) have gotten to experience their first American Thanksgiving – something so exotic to them, the holiday they’ve all seen many times on TV and in movies.

Pass the pie!

This was just the case of my Biennale colleagues in Lyon. This year would be no different; even though I was not in Toulouse, and my beloved Edd and Sarah couldn’t make it to Thanksgiving, I was excited to continue my big tradition with all my new friends. They, in turn, were elated to be invited to Thanksgiving, and the pot luck was organized, a turkey special-ordered and much anticipation ensued.

My first turkey success!

The evening was a smashing success. It was my very first time roasting the turkey myself and it turned out impeccably! (I followed the Judy bird recipe, if you were wondering…) The head count topped off at 20 and we all stuffed into my Lyonnais flat to stuff ourselves with the staples. After everyone had seconds, all the plates and bowls were licked clean! A perfect mélange of French and American, there was plenty of wine flowing all evening, which probably can explain the 30 minute lib-dub practice session during which we were all belting out Queen hits at the top of our lungs.

Though I missed my Toulousains terribly, it was great to bond with my team in Lyon. I’m so lucky to be having this amazing experience there and for that I am thankful!

Hope you all had a wonderful, warm holiday – and here’s to the opening of the Christmas season, right?

Dessert plate, 2011.

The end!

médiatrice culturelle, about my job

Big fish.

So you may or may not be wondering what I do as a guide working for the Biennale de Lyon or what exactly is this crazy sounding thing la médiation culturelle that I’m studying for my masters degree. Well its high time I tried to explain it all for you.

Médiatrice culturelle is my job title, that is cultural mediator if you translate it directly  - something that sounds a bit odd in English. When I first heard of this term, it struck me as bizarre. Mediators, in my conception of the term, are more related to legal matters than cultural affairs. But as I plunged into my internship as a médiatrice culturelle for the festival le Printemps de Semptembre last fall in Toulouse, I realized that this odd-sounding job title was the closest I could get to the museum education career path I’d been on back when I was working in the States.

My first-year thesis ended up being a tome of research done to answer my questions about the particular terminology in this field and its evolution – a way for me to wrap my head around what these words meant to the people who had come up with them, why certain terms are almost taboo in museums and cultural institutions and finally, how educational programming or médiation culturelle historically evolved in France.

To sum up a big chunk of my thesis, the French prefer this term médiation culturelle to talk about museum education for a couple of reasons. For starters, the term was chosen to evoke the idea of an intermediary person present to facilitate the art-spectator relationship. From my understanding, they’re coming from an over-arching point of view based on Kantian ideas that art and culture will directly communicate with and touch the viewer. But nowadays we see that this direct communication is not always the case with all audiences and sometimes, the viewer needs someone to talk with to help work out their ideas. Enter the mediator!

Another reason you’ll never hear people talk about “museum education” in France is because the usage of words like education and pedagogy in the museum and art space is rather taboo. These words are too closely associated with school – the place we’re all forced to go to and “education” thus implies an element of condescension. The museum and cultural institution must remain a place of leisurely learning and in a way, I definitely understand wanting to distance itself from these terms. Thus, a mediator is just someone invited to spur conversation, spark debate, and provide details of the art present – not a professor or expert brought in to lecture the public.

The first moments, a group taking in the piece by Alexander Schellow.

My job is infinitely changing yet always the same. I give tours to the visitors of the Biennale, mostly school groups, and while each new group brings newness to my job, I’m walking through the same exhibition and the same pieces up to 5 times a day. I’m a guide, a docent in plain English, and at the end of the day, sometimes I feel like robo-guide. Some groups are engaged and chatty, others shy but curious, and others still (mostly middle school kids and executive types waiting for their coupe of champagne) just couldn’t care less.

But I really do love this job. Connecting with the public, arguing things with visitors, discussing contemporary art and where it fits in with everything else in art history and in the world around us. It feels amazing to finally be drawing information up from the archives of my memories of college classes and papers I wrote once upon a time and seeing new directions in which to take my master’s degree.

The bittersweet end of my contract here in Lyon in rapidly approaching. A bit less than one month now is left and there is no sign of the pace letting up. It’s exhausting – I arrive at my flat here with tired feet, hardly any voice left and just feeling like I just want to be alone for a bit! Yet I find it energizing. I’ve finally got the hang of this, I’ve found my zen mantras to get me through less-than-perfect groups of school kids and now I’m starting to think of the leads I’ll be exploring in my thesis this year.

I’ll leave you now with a video. Part of a series on the Biennale filmed by a local television station, in which I’m pretty much doing my job: talking about art!

Le journal de la Biennale #8 (Bernardo Ortiz) from Guillaume GEN on Vimeo.

Also, a big thanks to Sarah for all the photos of my in action!

lille again

Serious game lovers.

This weekend, I had the luxury of a non-working weekend. I’d asked for two days off to go up to Lille with Florent and meet Edd and all his friends there to celebrate the house-warming of Lise and François.

We’d gone up to Lille once before to visit, Lise and François are old friends of Edouard’s from engineering school. Last time, I was quite charmed by the city and this time I was not let down either. My only disappointment was how fast the time seemed to fly by.

Tournai, Belgium

Saturday, we made a quick jaunt across the border into Belgium and visited Tournai. I love the stepped roofs of the brick buildings up north, so I shamelessly snapped a bunch of photos as we walked to the restaurant through the main square of town. The mandatory moules-frites were eaten, and even more exciting, we pillaged the vast aisles of cheap, Belgian beer at Carrefour just before heading back to Lille.

My kind of beer!

Florent and I went in on a case together. Luckily we had schemed this plan ahead of time; I had bought my rolling suitcase, ready to load up and roll back to Lyon full of beer 1/3 of the price we pay here and other Belgian treats (already thinking of stuff to bring home for Christmas!)

Buncha tourists, all we got were beers and Speculoos...

After our Belgian excursion, we were back in Lille. Half of our party stayed back at the flat to play a few of the many games our hosts have, while the other half of us went into town to take a stroll and take in the sights. Christmas lights and the marché de Noël in place, things were starting to feel pretty festive!

Pub time.

Eventually, we all met back up at a great pub, the Tír na nÓg, to watch the rugby match (not my idea!) and relax a bit. I was particularly fond of the hearth they had going with a nice fire and quite content with a virgin mary tomato juice after all the beer in Belgium. After we were satisfied to see Toulouse beat the Irish, we went back to warm up Lise and François’s flat with more games and pizza.

Today went too quickly. Waking up late and taking advantage of the snuggle time with my chéri before we both went our separate ways in the early afternoon. Saying goodbye is always a bit sad, but this time I know I’ll be seeing him again very soon. Next weekend I’m taking the train back to Toulouse to spend a few days taking care of business for my masters program.

Until then, I’m getting quite excited for Thanksgiving! I’ve invited a gaggle of co-workers and friends from Lyon to partake in the holiday with me. It will be the first time I have a normal sized oven and thus the possibility to roast my own whole turkey! While I am very sad not to be sharing this meal with my best girl friend, and fellow food-crazy friend, Sarah, and of course to not share a plate of turkey with Edd, I’m pretty sure it will be a good time. Just cross your fingers that the neighbors don’t get mad!

all saints

Feuille sur les pavés.

Though my ten days in Toulouse have really flown by, they have been just as I’d hoped: restorative and relaxing.

Halloween enchiladas.

Of course, Sarah and got back in the kitchen to whip up some delicious things and cook up new projects (hint, hint!).

Blank canvas.

I’d also told myself that I really needed to get back into taking some photos and not letting all these lovely fall moments slip through the cracks of time and memory. This week was a mild mix of rain and sun, with a few hearty gusts of wind thrown in for good measure. At the top of my to-do list this week was to get in a few long walks with my chéri.

Sarah's studio space.

We visited Sarah at her studio during their open house.

Festive lights.

We perused the stands at the Fête de la Colombette, the annual street festival in our neighborhood welcoming in the Christmas season with the first holiday lights.

Capitole, autumn light.

We walked around town appreciating the changing seasons, the changing light, and all the little changes that happened here in the two short months that I’ve been away.

Window shopping.

We lingered in front of shop windows and browsed in housewares stores without ever buying a thing.

And got in lots of cuddles now that night falls earlier. Tomorrow morning, I’ve got to stock up on as many of those as I can. Then I’m brunching with my girl Sarah before setting off to Lyon once again.