Poiret was looking to capitalize on the event and sold off his collection of modern art paintings to purchase three peniches. Moored at the Quai de la Seine, Poiret had the barges completely renovated and converted into luxury houseboats, their surfaces were covered with vividly painted flowers and redecorated with fabulous theatrical interiors. An esplanade ran along their roofs descending in wide steps to the waterline, where visitors arriving via boat were invited to aboard. The peniches were painted in the tricolor shades of the French flag: Amours was blue, Orgues was white and Délices was red.
The three barges were entitled: Amours, Delices, and Orgues (Love, Delights and Organs) —names which, he said, represented “women, always women" and based on a play on words taking French words which are masculine in the singular and feminine in the plural. Each peniche was fitted with chairs, beds, sofas and divans that were piled high with plush cushions and bolster pillows. The upholstery fabrics were sumptuous and were trimmed with tassels, exotic embroidery and metallic trim. The walls featured hand blocked wallpapers, tapestries, sconces, mirrors and various artworks. Floors were either left bare but highly polished or they were covered in the finest of carpets.
The barges served as Poiret's Stand at the 1925 International Exhibition to showcase his couture fashions, textiles, high end furnishings and fragrances to the teeming public. Two of the houseboats were opened to the public, Orgues for teas and Delices for dinner. The Amours barge served as his personal summer residence, a comfortable house for vacation leisure. He slept there during the entire exposition.
Amours:
The first barge in line was the Amours, its exterior was covered with painted blue carnations and its interior presented furniture and decorations intended for a modern styled apartment, all executed by Atelier Martine, as well as displaying various Rosine perfumes on tables made of crossed arrows.
A "perfume piano" was adapted and installed in the dining room to waft the perfumes over the audience when certain keys were pressed. It was a simple affair of a dozen small bottles, connected to an electric fan, with a piano key for each bottle. He starts the fan and by pressing the keys fills the room with any scent that pleases him. Sculptor Jean van Dongen produced a seated white dog of 90 cm which was placed on the terrace at the top of the stairs of the barge "Amours".
A monumental staircase descended to the water on a curving line like a Venetian balcony and welcomed the evening barques of the gondoliers. Under the grand staircase, an apartment was constructed and decorated by Poiret with furniture and hangings.
Orgues:
Orgues, measuring thirty-nine meters long, was decorated with help of Ronsin, painted in shades of white inside and out, but the ceiling was of pale pink, the curtains of scarlet oilcloth and the tables were of red lacquer with Martine designs. Raoul Dufy created fourteen wall hangings, known as 'tentures' for Poiret's barge Orgues in mordant colours, including one on the theme of the sea goddess. They were large curtains that he had made in the factories of Bianchini in Tournon.
Poiret gave luminous ballets on the Orgues. The houseboat was fitted with a "luminous pipe organ", constructed by Thomas Wilfred. In 1919, Thomas Wilfred, a Danish emigrated to the USA, developed his Clavilux, a silent keyboard instrument that projected colors onto a screen.
Orgues also incorporated an external timber platform which stepped progressively from roof down to the deck which functioned as a runway to showcase his fashion collections daily to the passersby. Orgues was filled with his objets d'art, his furnishings and fabrics, and acted as his flagship and Poiret explained it was "really a large salon".
Delices:
The last barge in line was the Delices whose exterior was draped in red anemones. Delices was dedicated to the Maison Rosine and his perfumes. Poiret had converted the Delices into a restaurant and dance hall/night club. It was catered to the art of gastronomy focusing on the glory of French cooking and its specialities. It's fine restaurant was one of the most popular highlights of the exhibit. He arranged for the most celebrated cooks from the provinces to come and pass, in turn, a few days on board, to introduce and to gain appreciation for their regional dishes. Délices also had a complete theatre aboard.
The inauguration night menu stated the following:
"The barge "Délices" is devoted to the sense of smell "perfumes of rosine" and to that of taste "restaurant delights". It is furnished by Martine. All the elements that make it up: furniture, table service, glassware, lingerie, silverware, interior decoration, lighting, etc. are offered for sale by Maison Martine. Orders can be taken on the houseboat itself. The cellar is composed and controlled by enlightened connoisseurs (mm. Members of the club of the pure hundred); the wines are sold and delivered in bottles. Orders can be taken on the barge, by the maitre d'hotel or the sommelier. All the luminaries of French cuisine are invited to spend one or more days aboard the barge "Délices" to present to the Parisian public the original specialties which have made them famous."
It's inaugural menu offered:
- appetizers
- Armorican lobster
- rice pilaf
- grilled Pauillac lamb
- haricots panachés
- Cavaillon asparagus with mousseline sauce
- ice cream
- seasonal fruits
Other items on the menu were: goose de Languedoc, rice a la Valenciennes, sauerkraut Alsacienne, special hare a la Lorraine, and other rare specialties accompanied by the choicest vintages. Poiret stated that "this is no ordinary soup kitchen, but a sort of academy dedicated to the gourmands of all countries." Near the restaurant, he arranged a cover for the garden, where visitors may order cool drinks and in the evening, the garden had a lighting effect of refreshing coolness. From this garden, guests could admire the spectacles of the Seine.
La Crapoiullot, 1925:
"Poiret prepares for the Exhibition of Decorative Arts a merry-go-round of monster wooden horses. The mounts will be, it seems, characters from our human comedy: the financier, the boxer, etc...the mechanical orchestra will be composed solely of percussive and whistling instruments and sirens. It will only pause to allow a speaker to play commercial announcements."
For all the enormous effort and dizzying amounts of money he poured into this uniquely extravagant promotional project, it ultimately failed to bring him the profits he had fervently hoped for. Customers were angered by the astronomical prices he was charging for the food and drink on the houseboats. Newspaper critics bashed him the next day and the lessening future patronage was not what he expected. He unwisely thought that having his name attached to a special dinner would double its normal price. That night, he knew he had to think quick and try to salvage the last remaining days of the exposition. He needed to create a plan that would divert his patron's attention from their outrageous bills.
Cleverly, he devised a quick scheme to leave a memorable impression on his guests rather than have them grumbling about their exorbitant bills. On the last day, towards the end of the evening, just as the guests were about ready to call for their checks and the usual chorus of complaints was about due to arise, a "commanding presence" strode up the gangplank. He was an Oriental, wearing a red fez, with a silken tassel on his head, and he had swarthy skin, black eyes and a beard like Mohammed. In the center of things, he posed magnificently and swept the decks with his imperious eyes. The head waiter and two "captains" approached, bowed their heads, rubbed their hands in attitude of worship, but the "presence" gazed right through and beyond them. Apparently they dared not speak to his greatness until spoken to.
There was much excited whisperings at the tables as the guests speculated what was about to take place. In the meantime, a waiter passed rapidly along the decks, bearing a huge bowl of strawberries and thick cream. He seemed to be in a hurry and took no notice to the important new guest. The head waiter was heard to give him a sharp command not to come too close, but just as the waiter turned his head, he tripped, and much to the horror of the diners, accidentally dumped the contents of the bowl right on top of the "important" guest, its goopy contents dripped sticky sweetness down his face, ran into his eyes and finally settled into his beard. A mixture of gasps and laughs resounded and the head waiter quickly escorted the "blinded" man away while two other waiters pounced upon the perpetrator. When the laughing subsided, everyone wondered aloud about the fate of the hapless waiter. A short while later, the head waiter returned and clapped his hands for silence and announced that per the important guest, "HE will not punish the waiter. HE will not even discharge him. HE will, in fact, promote him. The waiter has provided entertainment for HIS guests, therefore HE rewards HIS waiter."
The man with the swarthy complexion and the sticky head was none other than Paul Poiret himself. From an invisible vantage point, he was able to view the spectacle with satisfaction. However, that was a short lived pleasure as soon the grumblings came from the guests over the prices on their checks and the chorus of objections resumed. He was back to the drawing board once again. He had to come up with a new gimmick to make them forget all about their extravagantly priced bills. He silently vowed to get it right the next time.
He hired an actor and rehearsed a little scene with the head waiter, who just happened to be a good swimmer, and also had a percentage in the profits. The new gimmick was simple, the actor, upon receiving his check, was to complain to the waiter, who would then summon the head waiter. As a final gesture of protest the actor was to throw the head waiter overboard. When the excitement was over, he would pay his check after all and admit that it really was worth the money. Poiret figured, the guests would be entertained and all complaints would hence become a joke. The actor played his part perfectly, he was sat at a prominent table and fussed over by the head waiter and others as if he were an important figure. This time, the plan was to start after the first mutterings about the bills had already begun to sound in various parts of the deck.
In his best stage voice, the actor bellowed "Water, bring me the check." The waiter obeyed this command and all eyes turned to see how this dignified figure would pay up since he had four guests at his table and that check, at Poiret's prices, would be enough to buy a small chateau or even a Rolls Royce. Indignantly he asked "Is this my check?" The waiter assured him that it was and the actor exclaimed "And do you expect me to pay it?" The waiter nodded politely and with that, the actor rose up from the table and towered over him replying "Then you are out of luck." The head waiter was summoned, looked at the check, studied it to make sure the figures were right and confirmed it was correct, while incredulously saying "Don't you want to pay it?".
This caused several guests to gather around the scene and loudly quibble about their own bills. One diner spoke up "They soaked me over a hundred francs for a cup of tea!"Another exclaimed "They think I am going to pay here five times more than anywhere else. They are crazy!"
The head waiter did not change his attitude and simply ignored the diner's protestations. He turned to the actor and said "So you refuse to pay this? Well then, what did you come here for?" The actor thought for a moment and then an idea lighted up his face, saying to the man "Ah, now we are getting to it: I think I must have come here to throw you into the water." They then got into a well rehearsed scuffle and the actor threw the head waiter into the waters of the Seine. A large splash was heard. Hundreds of onlookers immediately rushed over to the railing to view the scene, began cheering wildly, as the houseboats rocked in their moorings.
Poiret was secreted away in his private office, listening to the cheers with satisfaction. His happiness was soon dampened as one of his "captains" had burst through the room and quickly bolted the door behind him, standing there is dripping wet clothes and sporting a black eye. He relayed the story that soon grieved Poiret. It seemed that there was another actor there, Mr. Ben Finney, and he was not in on the little scheme, but took one look at his bill and decided he needed a cue to join in on the show. His waiter suggested that the head waiter might drown. So Finney said "In that case, you had better rescue him!" and tossed his waiter over the side! Next thing you know, pandemonium had struck the decks! Scuffles between waiters and complaining diners erupted. Waiters who didn't have the good sense to run and stuck around were being thrown into the water by other guests! When all was said and done, the guests were shouting and calling for Poiret, no longer complaining about their bills, but thanking him for a delightful, entertaining evening.
The only ones who were not happy were Poiret and his gaggle of soaking wet waiters. While some waiters were still trying to get out of the water, some eventually guests left without paying their checks at all. Many of the waiters could swim, but others who could not were fished out by the kitchen staff and some nearby men in small boats that came to the rescue. While no one drowned, no one was worse off than Poiret. The price complaints still came in full force, the newspapers still criticized him and the public had the impression to think the waiters expected to be tossed overboard every night.
He spent so much money that by the time the crash of 1929 happened and killed the luxury goods market, he was forced to sell off his businesses to repay the enormous debt he was rapidly acquiring.
"Under the leadership of Paul Poiret, who was the initiator, and is still remained active inspiration, we can affirm that each of its first productions was another success.
Each perfume must have its characteristic smell, its special note. Inventing a new perfume is already difficult thing; give it a name becomes quite a problem. There until the flowers nomenclature seems to have been exhausted. Rosine Perfumes were able to overcome all these difficulties. A great products, delicately fragrant, prepared with great care, directors have given the most likely names to appeal to a select clientele.
There is no woman in Paris, in the provinces or abroad who know the name of Paul Poiret; there will be more soon that is ignorant of Parfums de Rosine. All charming visitors of the Exposition des Arts Décoratifs were parked in front of the shelves of the stand Rosine at the Grand Palais. They were suggestive by the names of Parfums de Rosine, now so common, "Nuit de Chine", "Toute la Foret", "Where are you from?", "Hahna" "Arlequinade", "1925", etc.
Artistic how each of these extracts is dressed denotes by the manufacturer in-depth knowledge of psychology feminine. Unable to resist so alluring: the name, perfume and presentation constitute a formidable trinity. The woman succumbs to so much charm are combined."
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