Electro night at the museum

The first time I’d see Night at the Museum, it was starring Ben Stiller and some dinosaurs.

The only thing I’ve seen less funny to date is this Malaysian (?) version of ‘Night at the Museum’, hosted by a certain Mister Tukul.

Having thus experienced how the Americans and Malaysians approached the concept of ‘Night at the Museum’, I was interested to see the version francais.

On Saturday, the museum of Arts et Metiers (arts and trades), held a soiree eclairee, an illuminated evening, featuring a lights show throughout the permanent collection of the expansive and unassuming building, and a set by 9 electro DJs in its enormous chapelle. Electro night at the museum: this was going to be interesting.

I deposited my coat at the cloakroom, fishing out of my pocket a pair of black leopard skin tights that Marie had just returned to me.

“Can I cloak these as well?” I asked the cloak attendant. “The last party I went to was  a sado-maso, and my friend just gave these back to me.”

The attendant hesitated a second, before replying, “Sure, you can just put those in the pocket.” Then added for good measure, “Are you sure you’re at the right party tonight?”

We were ushered into a lift with a woman decked out as an airline hostess – all the staff were, as the theme was ‘Voyage’. Whatever. In the lift, there was a paper sign that read: “Don’t forget you’re in a museum. Thank you for respecting the location.”

Well, excuse me, but you guys are the one hosting an electro party here! We’ll provide loud music, but don’t talk above a whisper.

“Does this mean I should get an audio guide?” pondered Sophie. Now that could be interesting, the museum equivalent of an iPod party – a room full of people standing with audio guide to ear, collectively swaying to someone recounting the history of the phonograph.

The lift dropped us on the first floor, which was effectively a room dedicated to photography and sounds recording equipment from the 1890s.

Once in Madagascar I walked one kilometre through a swamp full of floating zebu turds to get to a nightclub. This time I was being made to traverse 120 years of audio history. I rolled up my trousers – this could get dirty.

The museum collection was actually rather impressive, it’s just that we were there to party, not to learn. Arriving at the chapelle were the electro concert was, it was the first time I’ve seen more photographers and filmmakers than legitimate guests at a party. Meanwhile, the queue outside the museum was stretching around the street corner, and they were getting rowdy.

We made the most of the fact that for surely the first time in Paris’ history the line for the bar was shorter than the line for museum entry. We ordered the first of several extremely weak vodka apples.

After three hours the novelty of drinking alcohol other than red wine in a church had worn off (as for the weak vodka apple, there was virtually no effect to wear off). We retrieved our jackets, handbags, leopard print tights, and left. We were then confronted with the next problem: the waiting crowd had grown riotous, and were rocking the imposing iron gates with a certain fury.

This video is the closest thing I have found on the web resembling the ambiance that greeted us. If you look carefully, you can see Marie and me sureptiously sneaking away to our house, just 5 mins away.


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One Response to “Electro night at the museum”

  1. M Says:

    first time i read ur blog in its mobile version… coool!!

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