Flateurville closes its doors in a blaze of blue smoke

by Demian Smith on January 5, 2013

Passing by the Office of the Sheriff, you are soon in The forest Flateurville. Make your way further, and you will face The backyard of the castle (concert hall). Then on your sides, Marcel and Lorette’s rooms. Continue to Marcel’s Workshop and two lounges. And finally, the Equipped cabins.

Flateurville has now come to an end after seven years, so no more confusion. But just so you know what on earth happened in the back alleys of the 10th arrondissement, not far from Chateau d’Eau metro station, let me explain.

The town of Flateurville are all hooked on a blue flower, which we are told can be chewed, smoked, injected; a gallery of portraits by Laurent Godard and videos projected on the television screens are showing throughout the complex.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the entrance to the venue at 24, Cour des Petites écuries, 75010, one might expect to be greeted by artist/musician/filmaker/baker/dentist, Laurent Godard, the creator of Flateurville, this imaginary village, presumably on an imaginary planet, which he has created from places he has experienced on his travels and meetings which he has created in various places: an old tannery in Essaouira; an oyster farm on the island of Ré; a housing project in New York; a chateau in Burgundy; and the Piscine Molitor in Paris.

This  600 square metres site was formerly 24 small stables, before being occupied as the print house of the newspaper Le Parisien

Flateurville has until last night served as both all that is wrong and a place of awakening of the artist in each of us.

The paintings by Laurent Godard that hang all over the walls are created by the method of dripping, which we know best from Jackson Pollock, produced by dripping paint from the brush onto the canvas. The paintings represent the people of this unusual place: P’tit Louis, a pimply teenager, bored to death in this sad town; Susan, a painter who returned to Flateurville after a twenty-five years absence; Jean-Baptiste, the son of the priest’ Mouss, a little gypsy; Marcel, the bad guy, fresh out of prison.

Fragments of the history of the people of Flateurville everywhere, an amazing narrative journey, an evolving scenario about which we are both scared and curious.

Sadly it is no more.

However, the Flattervillois are searching for a new piece of land on which to settle, and would be happy to hear any suggestions.

Flateurville Facebook page

Flateurville website

 

About the Author

Demian Smith starts out painting graffiti in the late ‘90s around Swiss Cottage in London, and ends up writing gossip journalism for the Daily Telegraph. Arrived in Paris in 2012 to establish Underground Paris.

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