The apartment was on the fourth floor of a walk-up in the residential 15eme district in Paris. An aged wood staircase creaked a melancholic off-tune melody conducted by my footsteps. Catching my breath at the arrival, I was faced with a narrow and dim passage leading to a worn down once white door.

I entered my friend’s place with anticipation. It was the first time I would visit him there. It was a charming one-bedroom, reeking of typical Parisian charm. What I directly felt was a sense of history, experience and style. He had a blend of rustic matured furniture that was left by the senior landlord mixed with typical amenities of our century: a flat screen TV, laptop, surround system, and an Ipod deck. On the walls were vintage rock and at posters from the 60s. The whole feel of the place was exactly as I would imagine a cozy apartment in Paris to be. Except, that it wasn’t quite so.

On a far wall beside his bed, was something that I had never seen before. Empty red Marlboro cigarette packs were stacked on the wall – starting from one corner to another, almost forming an uneven stair feel. He said: “It started as a joke but now I am addicted to this collection.” It seemed almost sculpturesque, donning a fetishistic impression with the packs, including the brand name and colors (red and white). It brought out a definite clash with the surrounding, slicing the aura of authenticity with a contemporary vulgar exhibit of consumption.

In our current era of over-isms, this blatant literal display came as a surprise but not a shock, more unexpected than unbelievable. Andy Warhol triggered a profound change in the art world based on pop and material culture; this is still true until today. The stacked packs started off as a token or reminder of my friend’s smoking pattern but then also could be viewed as a whole piece.

Part of this could have stem from a rebellion against the public smoking ban; my friend being a heavy smoker found a way to relish his habit in the privacy of his home in an exhibitionist way. He obviously appreciated it, from the aesthetic sense and the conquest end. It felt like a memorandum or trophy of some sort, only available in a bachelor male home. Just like some keep empty alcohol bottles to reminisce of good times in their place or to maybe to portray their party nature, seeing the cigarette cartons felt like he was marking time of his stay in Paris through what he viewed as a core daily routine. Piling the small boxes became a kind of a ritual in themselves that are working in context – Paris, the apartment, the surrounding, the wall and him.

Maybe it doesn’t mean much, but I picked up the signs and found the situation open for interpretation. As Robinson derived and Mieke Bal pointed out, this has occurred because of the interaction I had with the piece and my friend in context. “It looks cool, unplanned. You know, all of these packs were smoked by me.” He mentioned that he smokes a pack a day on average, so there must be around 400 on that wall!

One of the interesting things about this setup is its metamorphous nature and the fact that grows with my friend’s use and smoking. It is not static at all but rather will change shapes from week to week. Unlike drawing or painting, it is not limited to a canvas but adapts to experience and space. One thought prevails: I just wonder what will happen after the whole wall is filled…

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009 at 1:15 pm and is filed under Design, Just for Fun, Personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.