“Did you hear about Alphonse Allais?” I ask, my voice carrying over the quiet Square Alphonse Allais. This square in Paris bears the name of a man who was a journalist, a writer, and a humorist.
Alphonse Allais was born in 1854 and died in 1905. The Square Alphonse Allais is in Paris’s 20th arrondissement. It sits in the Belleville neighborhood. Rue de Tourtille, Rue Bisson, and Rue de Pali-Kao surround the Square Alphonse Allais.
The square is not huge. It measures about 45 meters long and 30 meters wide. Square Alphonse Allais got its name on November 28, 1990. Before that, it was known as voie CU/20.
Alphonse Allais, the man, was quite the character. He was a humorist. Some say he was the finest humorous writer France ever produced. Yet he remains relatively unknown in the English-speaking world. This is quite puzzling.
Allais had many talents. He became editor of the newspaper Le Chat Noir. He dabbled in photography and rubber production. He even invented a version of Nescafé before Nescafé existed.
One of his odd habits involved hotel wake-up calls. Traditional wake-up calls were too jarring for Allais. So, he would ask the concierge to phone the guests on either side of his room. He would then rise at dawn. He would listen to his neighbors’ annoyed reactions.
Allais also created a series of paintings. They were collected in a monograph called Album primo-avrilesque. This translates to An April Fools Album. The album came about because Allais lacked skill in visual art.
Each of the seven monochrome plates features a title. The title implies the dissolution of figure into ground. One painting is a Campbell’s-soup-red rectangle. It is titled Apoplectic cardinals harvesting tomatoes on the shore of the Red Sea. The effect is like Aurora Borealis.
Another frame is filled with only blue. The caption explains it. It is the Astonishment of young naval recruits seeing, for the first time, your blue, O Mediterranean Sea! Allais’ white painting shows anemic girls commuting to their first communion during snowfall. This predates Rauschenberg’s modular series by more than fifty years.
The Album ends with a funeral march. It is a blank musical staff. It beats John Cage to the punch. It was meant to be played alongside another Allais invention. This was a hearse with a cremator in the coffin compartment.
Allais’ humor was more than just off-color. His black plate is titled Combat de nègres dans une cave, pendant la nuit. This means Negroes fighting in a cellar, at night. The joke sabotages the series’ conceit of representation. If there is no light, why would skin color matter?
Alphonse Allais implored his readers to let the work speak for itself. The joke was not his. He imitated poet Paul Bilhaud’s “painting.” It was produced for the Salon des Incohérents.
This proto-Dadaist exhibit responded to the critique that modern artists could not paint. Jules Lévy held this salon in his Left Bank apartment. Thousands attended. Manet, Renoir, and Pissarro were among them.
Here in Square Alphonse Allais, remember the man. Remember his wit and his strange inventions. He challenged norms and found humor in unexpected places. As you leave this square, carry a bit of his playful spirit with you. Perhaps you will find humor in the everyday.