Tutus in Paris
by Jilliana
Ranicar-Breese
I came to live
in Paris without social connections when I was
about 30. I quickly realised that walking into an
art gallery opening (vernissage) in Saint Germain,
the Art District on the Left Bank, around 19.00,
was the best place to meet interesting people.
One Wednesday evening, I picked a known artist,
and was a little nervous as I knew almost no one
in Paris, the City of Lights.
Mihail Chemiakin was a professional artist and de
rigueur. The gallery was packed with branche
guests so one could hardly view his paintings. It
was a place just to be seen and not. I sat on a
sofa next to a distinguished older gentleman who
was looking bored and detached.
‘Quel est votre opinion de les peintures?’
I enquired.
He glanced at me, uninterested, until he heard my
obvious English accent. Speaking fluent English,
he suddenly perked up explaining he had lived
many years in London in the 1950’s as Baron’s
photographic assistant. Baron, who died in 1965,
had been the famous London Society’s
photographer. He rose and took me, gauche
Jilliana, in hand introducing me to his Russian
friend, the artist, that ‘Tout Paris’
was talking about. He proudly introduced himself
as Genia from Moscow, a Russian Emigre.
I confided in Genia that I had just arrived in
Paris and was living in the Rue Campagne Premiere,
Montparnasse. I was informed that not only had
scenes from the film ‘Au bout de souffle’
been shot in that street but also Modigliani had
committed suicide by throwing himself out of his
studio window.
Being my ‘protector’ for the evening
and, as it was early Genia suggested we should
pay a visit to his friend the German fashion
photographer Willy Maywald at his studio in the
Rue de la Grande Chaumiere, who hosted Salons on
Wednesdays and Saturdays.
He went to make a phone call to ask if the Salon
was on asking if ‘it’ was on.
‘Mais oui!’ Was the reply.
So off we went into the night, taking a taxi and
chatting about art and photography. I had come to
Paris to be educated. And educated I was over the
coming years!
We arrived at Willy’s studio hidden at the
end of a secret garden tucked away in a street
famous for its art school. Genia opened the
unlocked door and we entered another world.
There was elderly distinguished Willy on his
couch in an original artist’s atelier with a
high glass roof. His black and white portraits of
famous artists, such as Chagall, Picasso and
Braque, adorned the walls. Willy was surrounded
by Spanish Transvestites wearing shocking pink
tutus!! Some had long evening dresses in garish
colours, others dressed in bling and little else,
wearing wigs and very heavy makeup. Everyone was
laughing and speaking Spanish so I joined in.
The fun loving guests were all shapes and sizes
and looked fabulous. I realised we had
gatecrashed a private birthday party for a
cabaret singer.
Willy rose to greet me in English with a heavy
guttural German accent.
‘Genia, you’ve come on the wrong night!
Bring Jilliana on a Saturday night, I think she
would prefer that!’
He nodded and smiled at me knowingly. A charming
man who was later to be rediscovered by Jutta
Neuman at the end of his life as a recognised
black and white portrait and fashion photographer.
Genia suggested we leave as he had just been
propositioned by one of the guests on his way to
the bathroom. He assured me women were his
preference.
We left and he accompanied me to my flat in
Montparnasse. However, he hovered at the front
door waiting to be invited in for who knows what,
saying he was lonely and looking for a ‘relationship’.
I thanked him for the evening and we agreed to
meet on a Saturday for the Salon but made certain
he understood there would be no ‘relationship’.
Willy Maywald, the fashion photographer of Dior’s
‘New Look’ was the catalyst for my
‘New Life’ in Paris, although he never
knew how his Saturday Salons would educate me ,
giving me the self confidence I lacked and
leading me to find my new identity!
Originally
written in Brighton in 2015 and updated in March
2019.
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