‘It’s as if we exhume stories, put them before mankind.’ Jean-Paul Jurquet holds a pair of tattered worker’s espadrilles found wedged behind the shelves of a bank built in the late 1870s. Descended from a family of scrap-metal merchants, he makes a living recovering rare antique fixtures and furniture from branches of the Banque de France to sell on his stand at the sprawling Puces de Saint-Ouen in northern Paris, the world’s largest flea market.
If Jurquet’s chosen specialism appears somewhat niche, his fellow vendors are no less singular in their tastes. From Minton to Memphis Milano, Louis XVI to Louis Paolozzi, their private passions find public exhibition amid the meandering alleys and huddled storefronts from which they ply their trade. Bernard Tinivella, purveyor of Roman and Neoclassical sculpture, describes his stock as a ‘pile of useless objects, but oh, how dear to my heart’. What shines through in the interviews and photographs that make up this captivating book is the love each one has for their work.
The dreamers and dealers who inhabit this ‘delightful favela’ owe their existence to an underclass of 19th-century chiffonniers (ragpickers), whose nightly peregrinations gleaned anything of value or use from the city’s detritus. Residing in the narrow strip of land beyond the Thiers wall, they would lay out their spoils for the weekend day-trippers who spilled forth through the Porte de Clignancourt, ready to spend a franc or two.
As a modern-day mecca for tourists and discerning collectors alike, those who wander the Puces must know how to chiner. Loosely translated as browsing for old things with no aim in mind, many of the book’s subjects speak of learning to train one’s gaze – ‘It’s an exercise in concentration, because hundreds of visual stimuli come into play’. Such is the sheer breadth and variety of stuff for sale in its eleven different markets that visitors have no choice but to surrender themselves to the sensory overload.
As the old saying goes, you don’t have to be mad to work at the Puces but it helps. It is apparent that a certain spirit of individualism and eccentricity assists in navigating the intricate mores of this unconventional community, whether acquired through generations of family business or as a relative newcomer, like Londoner Max Keys, who drove his van across the Channel four years ago and never looked back. There is undoubtedly a performative element in the trader’s profession, each showroom the setting for a dazzling parade of players with an ear – and an eye – for the storyteller’s art.
Many speak of the care involved in staging their stands at the start of the day, of obeying their own idiosyncratic rituals and routines in pursuit of ‘the poetics of presentation’. Others observe the emotions encountered when handling an object or wondering at its history. While the internet and social media have their place, most prefer the quiet rewards of archival research.
A final word must go to the army of artisans, restorers and porters who ensure the wheels of commerce run smoothly. Behind the scenes, a revolving cast of supporting characters concoct ingenious packaging solutions or breathe new life into timeworn stock. Each takes their place in the unique ecosystem of the Puces, a meeting point of humanity in all its myriad forms of expression.
‘The Paris Flea Market: Les Puces de Paris, Saint-Ouen’ was published on 24 June 2024
Sign up for our bi-weekly newsletter, and be the first to receive exclusive stories like this one, direct to your inbox.
