It would be easy to assume that Paris might be a city trapped in its architectural past. Its global brand is most often associated with the work of Haussmann from the 19th century. The city itself is almost entirely devoid of modern skyscrapers. And heritage preservation rules are, from what I gather, strict. But look behind and beyond Haussmann's facades, and you'll find a city that is progressive and experimental.
Take, for example, the Bourse de Commerce. Originally constructed in the 18th century as a hall to both store and sell wheat, a recent renovation by Japanese architect Tadao Ando dropped an exposed concrete cylinder right in the middle of it. It is now a contemporary art museum and, in my opinion, one of the most architecturally interesting buildings in the city.
Paris certainly cares about its past — as it should — but it's also not afraid to intervene and break free from it in dramatic ways.
It would be easy to assume that Paris might be a city trapped in its architectural past. Its global brand is most often associated with the work of Haussmann from the 19th century. The city itself is almost entirely devoid of modern skyscrapers. And heritage preservation rules are, from what I gather, strict. But look behind and beyond Haussmann's facades, and you'll find a city that is progressive and experimental.
Take, for example, the Bourse de Commerce. Originally constructed in the 18th century as a hall to both store and sell wheat, a recent renovation by Japanese architect Tadao Ando dropped an exposed concrete cylinder right in the middle of it. It is now a contemporary art museum and, in my opinion, one of the most architecturally interesting buildings in the city.
Paris certainly cares about its past — as it should — but it's also not afraid to intervene and break free from it in dramatic ways.
Compared to 2019, the Tate galleries in London are seeing ~2.2 million fewer visitors, representing an approximately 27% decline in patronage. Much of this is coming from a decline in international/European visitors. They're at 61% of pre-COVID levels, whereas domestic visitors are at 95%.
One of the biggest groups to fall off has been young visitors (aged 16-24) from the EU. Between 2019-2020, the Tate Modern alone welcomed 609,000 people from this segment. By 2023-2024, this had dropped to 357,000 and it remains depressed.
So now the Tate is cutting its staff and blaming two macro changes: the pandemic and Brexit. Though some people are arguing that it's really because the programming has been too woke and stuff.
In my mind, the Brexit excuse makes the most sense because it has clearly created additional friction. If you're a school traveller in France and want to visit the UK, you now need to complete a school trip information form (I'm assuming this wasn't the case before).
And if you're a student from any another country, you need a passport. In some cases you may also need a visa. So it makes sense that schools and teachers might say, "yeah, let's make our lives easier and just stay within the EU."
Based on a very cursory review of how other cultural institutions are doing, this possibly checks out. In 2019, the Centre Pompidou in Paris welcomed
Compared to 2019, the Tate galleries in London are seeing ~2.2 million fewer visitors, representing an approximately 27% decline in patronage. Much of this is coming from a decline in international/European visitors. They're at 61% of pre-COVID levels, whereas domestic visitors are at 95%.
One of the biggest groups to fall off has been young visitors (aged 16-24) from the EU. Between 2019-2020, the Tate Modern alone welcomed 609,000 people from this segment. By 2023-2024, this had dropped to 357,000 and it remains depressed.
So now the Tate is cutting its staff and blaming two macro changes: the pandemic and Brexit. Though some people are arguing that it's really because the programming has been too woke and stuff.
In my mind, the Brexit excuse makes the most sense because it has clearly created additional friction. If you're a school traveller in France and want to visit the UK, you now need to complete a school trip information form (I'm assuming this wasn't the case before).
And if you're a student from any another country, you need a passport. In some cases you may also need a visa. So it makes sense that schools and teachers might say, "yeah, let's make our lives easier and just stay within the EU."
Based on a very cursory review of how other cultural institutions are doing, this possibly checks out. In 2019, the Centre Pompidou in Paris welcomed
Could it simply be better programming? Yes, of course. But it's hard to argue that erecting barriers to become more closed off from the rest of the world, won't, you know, make you more closed off from the rest of the world. Here we're just talking about one cultural institution in the UK. But the lesson scales.
Yesterday we visited the Arquipélago — Centro de Artes Contemporâneas in Ribeira Grande on the northern part of the island. Originally the Ribeira Grande Distillation Factory, the site dates back to the late 19th century. Construction on the original buildings began in 1893 and the first export of alcohol was reported in 1896. However, production was short lived.
In 1901, due to pressures from the Portuguese mainland, a protectionist measure was put in place capping alcohol production across the Azorean islands to 2 million liters per year — a drop from 10 million liters per year. The mainland simply couldn't compete with low-cost alcohol from the islands and so they complained. This crippled the local industry and the factory shut down shortly after.
Subsequent to this, the site was repurposed for tobacco drying and storage, and even served as military barracks for a period of time. Then in 2006, the property was purchased by the Azorean government and, using money from the EU's Regional Development Fund, it was remade into what is now fittingly referred to as a "factory of culture."
The architects for the project were João Mendes Ribeiro and Menos é Mais Arquitectos, and if you ever find yourself on São Miguel, I would highly recommend you visit the center. The architects did a wonderful job creating a cohesive dialogue between the old (constructed out of black volcanic basalt) and the new. It was recommended to me and now I'm recommending it to all of you.
Could it simply be better programming? Yes, of course. But it's hard to argue that erecting barriers to become more closed off from the rest of the world, won't, you know, make you more closed off from the rest of the world. Here we're just talking about one cultural institution in the UK. But the lesson scales.
Yesterday we visited the Arquipélago — Centro de Artes Contemporâneas in Ribeira Grande on the northern part of the island. Originally the Ribeira Grande Distillation Factory, the site dates back to the late 19th century. Construction on the original buildings began in 1893 and the first export of alcohol was reported in 1896. However, production was short lived.
In 1901, due to pressures from the Portuguese mainland, a protectionist measure was put in place capping alcohol production across the Azorean islands to 2 million liters per year — a drop from 10 million liters per year. The mainland simply couldn't compete with low-cost alcohol from the islands and so they complained. This crippled the local industry and the factory shut down shortly after.
Subsequent to this, the site was repurposed for tobacco drying and storage, and even served as military barracks for a period of time. Then in 2006, the property was purchased by the Azorean government and, using money from the EU's Regional Development Fund, it was remade into what is now fittingly referred to as a "factory of culture."
The architects for the project were João Mendes Ribeiro and Menos é Mais Arquitectos, and if you ever find yourself on São Miguel, I would highly recommend you visit the center. The architects did a wonderful job creating a cohesive dialogue between the old (constructed out of black volcanic basalt) and the new. It was recommended to me and now I'm recommending it to all of you.
