How often can we trust what our eyes tell us to believe?
I first saw this man, Jérôme Laureau, at an Easter party and I didn’t know quite what to make of him.
I didn’t speak to him that day but I did hear how upset he was at the arrival of an intoxicated guest. Apparently he didn’t think that was what Easter was about. He thought it entirely disrespectful to the hosts and inappropriate in light of the many children present. Hmm. Curious. I had to know more.
What do you think of him? It’s easy to snap to many judgements especially when you happen to notice some of the words on his arms …
Or the things on his desk …
Yes, that’s a real gun. It sits below a bookshelf that has a copy of Adolph Hitler’s Mon Combat and dozens of hard core punk CDs. Now what do you think of him?
What if I told you he was a musician (true punk, naturally) and SCROTUM was the name of a band he played with? What if I told you he was a gifted painter who of course loves dark subjects but whose studio also has more colour than any rainbow?
And then, what if I told you that in his studio filled with hundreds upon hundreds of images, there was not a single one that objectified women in any way? Although there were two pictures of the same woman. A woman many years his senior who he spent nine years with, loving and caring for her in a relationship that many of us would not immediately understand. A woman who suffered unimaginable atrocities in Nazi Germany.
She was a pianist, silenced by hatred, who spent her final days listening to Jérôme’s punk band, music she declared “beautiful.” Her bed can be found in a small room in the back of this atelier which was once her home, bequeathed to her companion upon her death.
As one would expect from any hard-core musician, there are indeed pictures of women to be found in his band’s CD inserts. Like this one …
his beautiful and charming wife, Stephanie—a gracious woman and a soft-spoken, tender mother who also works at a museum.
What if I told you that he likes guns but hates violence? And what if I told you that I spent a Sunday watching him care lovingly for two tiny daughters — heating wee plates of vegetables and patiently demonstrating the task of tricycle operation? He sipped his tea and talked of his love of children and how he wanted more.
He embraced and kissed my friend Michel, the kindest man I know, with a warmth and sincerity that men from my world don’t display. And, of course, he was kind enough to spend a whole afternoon with me just so I could show you yet another piece of this French life.
He is thoughtful and kind; a creative soul and family man. He is a punk rock paradox. He is just Jérôme.
ps merci to Neil yet again for these amazing photographs
Snap judgments can be very wrong
Thanks for the reminder
What a beautiful man.
Wonderful post Bobbi. Thanks for sharing.
Oddly he sounds like one of the better people our world has to offer.
Your build up with the text and pictures was so engaging.
now i want a scrotum tattoo!
i’d put it above the pussy riot one i’ve been coveting as of lately.
(what is it about a color-splattered art studio that makes me feel giddy?)
Still waiting for that Scrotum/Four Skins/Pussy Riot tour!
(Sorry, I couldn’t resist ;-D )
HUMMMMM ……!
Thanks for the reminder.
Beautiful post and incredible pictures Neil…..
I love this post. Thank you.
The cat in the third picture was the give away. Didn’t everybody see the cat???
You can’t live with a tuxedo cat and not be at peace with the world. The cat wouldn’t stand for any upset of the zone of tranquillity.
I once had a temp job with Holland and Holland, a high-end maker of the most elegant “sport” clothes, hand-made tweed sports coats for men and pastel-colored cashmere frocks for women. It was an English company and I worked in its Manhattan satellite, where it had dark rich wood panelling everywhere and everyone stopped for tea at four. They had a kitchen and a silver tea service and special staff just to maintain it. Subtle, polite, dignified…O, it was such a wonderful place.
But when they offered me a full time job there I had to turn it down. Because they also sold hand-made guns, and organized shooting safaris so rich guys could kill leopards and elephants in Africa.
Guns = violence, no matter how you finesse the math. If you like exquisite hand-made technology, try clocks. Unless you’re just out to epater les bourgeoisie. If that’s not punk, then it’s Dada, eh?
A reminder to all, NEVER judge anything until you learn, matter of fact, just don’t judge!
Beautiful work here, Lady. Really great essay and Neil’s work is good. There are three great portraits there.
Books, covers, judgements … a good example of …
What a great portrait – I wonder how many wonderful people we overlook every day by deciding not to get to know them. I think we could all use a reminder to look past the surface. (Also, his studio is fantastic!)
Not sure about guns either but a beautiful spirit – lovely art and great post Bobbi!
Beautiful and touching, Bobbi. Thank you.
Reminds me of the time I befriended a woman who wore a burka – in my comparative religions class! By far the most open-minded, strong-willed woman I have yet to meet. I love it when people surprise me.
Bravo. Thank you for acquainting us with a person who is entirely himself. I suspect he cares nothing about what kind of impression he makes, but instead lives with integrity.
(Delurking because your blogs rocks, and you seem like a really nice lady…)
Actually this punk “paradox” is not. Read the lyrics for any number of bands and you will find passionate words about civil injustice and human (and animal) rights. Sadly the mainstream media refuse to see the energy and anger as anything but violence.
I am really nice but the jury’s out on the “lady” piece ;) Thanks for delurking.
Ha! Reminds me of that great scene in Footballer$ Wives where Hazel Bailey, new owner of the team, meets the players for the first time. Hazel (one of the best female characters to ever grace the small screen!) walks into the lockerroom full of naked players and announces her presence by saying, in her thick working-class English accent, “Relax boys. As you’ll soon find out, I ain’t no lady.”
hello BoBBi,
I was friend with Jerome(spool) in the 80’s, I once went to la cabane in the mid 90’s but no-one was there and my note was left unanswered.
My request to you is, if you don’t mind, if you can put me in touch with Jerome or him with me, that would be wonderful and I would be so greatful.
I’m also friend with Tilly.
Thank you so much for your lovely portrait of him, he is the SAME guy…
I’m on FB under my name and you have my email upthere.
Thank you if you are willing to contact him.
Best regards, FRed Rouge