Ettore Spalletti

La Criee

The light of Rennes has the hardness and the transparency of a diamond. Nearly every day, sudden, brief showers of rain cleanse the atmospheric impurities that appear as white zones, alternately polished or padded. People move about in this light like small, utterly discrete bodies, without auras, dry with the fragile and rigid essence of insects encased in boxes. The substantial sentimentality of this picture—à ce cadre—possesses the quality that is attributed to kitsch. The province of Europe is kitsch, and kitsch is one face of a medal, a medal which is used as money; art is the other, inseparable face. One morning, while I was going down from the medieval city toward the new city, a strolling musician was making his way through a wide street, moving with ritual slowness. He was accompanied at a distance of five or six paces by two children, marked by a pale, ragged beauty. Without

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