David Hockney above and below.
A remarkable quilt by Faith Ringold, the central image surrounded by narrative.
A few by himself.
Andy Warhol below.
Back to himself.
Every artist for him- or herself.
We had been waylaid on our way to the Grand Palais when our bus suddenly veered of course and sped across town in an unexpected direction. When we took a turn, we decided to hop off and walk the rest of the way. A couple of gendarmes told us that there was a parade along the Champs Elysees which had required our detour. After our visit, we could hear the bands still playing, so we went to watch. It turned out that the last few groups were making their way back to the start of the parade, so we followed along.
Now we were at the Place de la Concorde, and on our way home.
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