It starts in 1981, when the legendary CBGB rock hall and the Chelsea Hotel were at their peak. Young CharlElie gets nibbled in a bar by a country fan. He stays cool because he loves New York City, still dirty and infamous at night, whether it’s on the rat-infested subway, or on Bowery Street. Tompkins Square is squatted by homeless people; East Village still has a taste of bohemianism.
I have never felt such a strong emotion elsewhere. Manhattan is a dope.
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About twenty years later, in 2004, he moved with his family (wife and children) to live there his ” second “ life as an artist-painter: “I have never felt such a strong emotion elsewhere. Manhattan is a dope. Since the first minute, when I landed at JFK in 1981. Love at first sight on the skyline. New York is not a soft city, it is a city of concrete and bricks, of ice and steel, a hard city, a city of efficiency and utility to survive, a city that cannot stand counts small miseries and remains inflexible. And yet New York strikes a balance with its modern beauty. “
The smells of the city
In small touches, CharlElie recounts her daily life in the Big Apple. Its inhabitants inspire him, even if his daughters moan at first, because the furniture is slow to arrive and they have to put on a uniform at the French high school … He begins by getting his bike stung. He is looking for a workshop to create. Nothing is easy in this city that has become that of businessmen, more than that of artists (everything is expensive in Manhattan, everything is bought and sold). But he adapts.
And then there are the men, the women, the meetings, the rhythm of life, the noise, the fear, sometimes …
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He almost attends an assassination, collects his things on the landing, does not always feel in his element during “prout-prout” evenings. And ends up opening his own gallery. What he likes are the smells of the city: “(…) This mixture of hot dog, kebab, grilled meat, piss and perfume, the exhalations of hot gases and molten rubber, the Hoses, the belts which slip on the axis of the fan, the carbons strong and sweet, and then the scorching winds under the trucks (…) ”. Because New York is also about natural elements. In summer, it’s very hot, in winter it’s a blizzard, and when it rains, it’s downpours. And then, there are the men, the women, the meetings, the rhythm of life, the noise of the city, the fear, sometimes (while crossing Central Park at night) and the various facts.
The luxury of freedom
CharlElie tells almost everything, because he selects and organizes his ellipses. He dwells on an incident that seems trivial (an administrative summons), a mouse in his workshop, then he touches, in a few words, a concept, which says everything in as few words as a haiku, Kerouac, this time: ” I live in another luxury. That of my freedom. “
New York Memories rememberMotel Chronicles, by Sam Shepard, also multi-artist since he was not only an actor but a writer, playwright, director, director, screenwriter… and musician. In this logbook, CharlElie Couture paints and depicts this unique city in the world, that we love or hate, without half measures. His music changes with each play. His text breathes and changes rhythm and color, depending on the mood of the moment. After the amazement of the discovery, it’s time to go home, without regret. It is no doubt no coincidence that disenchantment coincides with the election of Donald Trump. The day his bike is stolen again, it is too much. The girls are tall. His wife supported him to the end. CharlElie made her New York dream come true.
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