• Samuel Beckett, ca. 1920.

    Samuel Beckett, ca. 1920.

    Samuel Beckett

    Centre Pompidou
    Place Georges-Pompidou
    March 14–June 25, 2007

    Curated by Marianne Alphant and Nathalie Léger

    This exhibition, curated by Marianne Alphant and Nathalie Léger and co-organized by the Pompidou and the Institut Mémoires de l’Édition Contemporaine, comes a year after the Beckett centennial, but perhaps it is proper that the author of Waiting for Godot should be celebrated a little late. In any case, the master of concision is getting an event of extravagant scale. The show is part history—with manuscripts, letters, photographs, and so on—and part art, by artists ranging from Jack B. Yeats (W. B.’s brother) and the eminently Beckettian Alberto Giacometti to Bruce Nauman, Jasper Johns, and Giuseppe Penone. Jérôme Combier, Pascale Bouhénic, Stan Douglas, and Alain Fleischer will present works commissioned for the occasion, and the catalogue promises contributions from more than twenty artists and writers, including Paul Auster, Georges Didi-Huberman, and Robert Ryman.

  • Christoph Büchel

    Palais de Tokyo
    13, Avenue du Président Wilson
    February 1–May 6, 2007

    Curated by Marc-Olivier Wahler

    Since his recent appointment as director of the Palais de Tokyo, Marc-Olivier Wahler has orchestrated a quiet revolution by inviting young, ambitious artists whose work can convincingly engage the building’s cavernous exhibition spaces. With an impressive track record of monumental works, Swiss artist Christoph Büchel is perfectly placed to rise to the Palais challenge. For his first solo show in France, he will create a larger, more intricate version of Hole, his 2005 installation at the Kunsthalle Basel, transforming the Palais into a labyrinth of claustrophobic rooms that lead to a presumed crime scene: the burned-out carcass of an exploded bus. Playing on our collective paranoia as well as on the vogue for popular entertainment based on criminal forensics, Büchel’s haunting environment, with its allusions to international terrorism and the recent unrest in the Parisian banlieues, could not be more timely.

  • Christian Marclay, Telephones, 1995, still from a digital video in color with sound, 7 minutes 30 seconds.

    Christian Marclay, Telephones, 1995, still from a digital video in color with sound, 7 minutes 30 seconds.

    Christian Marclay

    Musée de la Musique

    March 9–June 24, 2007

    Flaunting a knack for the wry détournement of found objects and images—specifically those related to the making, recording, reproduction, and visualization of sound—Swiss-American artist Christian Marclay illuminates some of the myriad ways in which music intersects with culture at large. This first survey of his work in video—curated by Emma Lavigne—includes documentation of various performances from the 1980s; the exuberant four-projector installation Video Quartet, 2002; and a trigger-happy new piece, Cross Fire, 2007. A veteran of New York’s postpunk and electronica scenes, Marclay brings an instrumentalist’s sense of rhythm and a DJ’s juxtapositional skill to the medium. The catalogue features essays by Rosalind Krauss, Michael Snow, and Jean-Pierre Criqui, among others.

  • Rain, 2005, watercolor on paper, 15 7/8 x 8 7/8".

    Rain, 2005, watercolor on paper, 15 7/8 x 8 7/8".

    David Lynch

    Fondation Cartier Pour l'Art Contemporain
    261 boulevard Raspail
    March 3–June 3, 2007

    Curated by Hervé Chandès

    If the films of David Lynch teach us anything, it is not to trust conventional narratives, even of the self. So one looks forward to parsing the stories told by this extensive exhibition—curated by Hervé Chandès—of the Montana-born auteur’s parallel practices in painting, drawing, and photography, shown alongside a number of Lynch’s short films, including Six Men Getting Sick, 1965, made when he was an MFA student at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Environmental sound works will knit the installation together, meaning that the junky chic of fellow director Godard’s recent intervention across town at the Pompidou is hardly the mode here. Nevertheless, it seems reasonable to hope for a presentation both elusive and unsettled, in the transcendentalist style of his cinema, which has been so influential on artists for the past couple of decades.