John Eide

Paris has always held a special place in my dreams. For a photographer, Paris is intriguing since photography was introduced to the world there in 1839. I can not think of Paris and photography at the same time without evoking the work of Atget, Brassai, or Kertész. Atget showed me the changing Paris as it moved from the Nineteenth into the twentieth Century; Brassai made accessible to me the often alluded to but well guarded secret world of night-time Paris; Kertész, with his lyric eye and ironic sense of humor, introduced me to the joie de vivre that characterizes the Parisian

I visited France for the first time in the Fall of 1983. My anticipated stay of a few weeks turned into a five-month exploration of Paris during which I became acquainted with the city in a leisurely and thorough manner. I was not looking for the Paris of Atget or Brassai or Kertész, for I knew that such a Paris no longer exists. If anything, I was looking for the Paris of Godard or Truffaut or Rohmer. I was looking for a Paris that was secure in her past but also deeply immersed in the present and stepping into the future.

An average day for me started by going to the nearest boulangerie to get my morning croissant, then back to my room for a cup of tea. I would load my pockets with film and often take a metro to the end of the line. I would spend all day walking back to my room. Other days I might only walk around in Luxembourg Gardens or the grounds of Versailles or one of the other wonderful gardens in and around Paris. If it rained, well, there are enough museums and cafes to keep anyone occupied.

I wanted to use the act of photographing as a diary and the resulting photographs as a way of sharing my discoveries of Paris with others.