Art Basel Opens to a Paris on Edge

Across Paris, two worlds are unfolding. Taxis are filled with visitors arriving for Art Basel, ready for a week of opening receptions, private parties and the chance to buy art worth millions of euros. For those picking their way past burnt-out cars and plundered stores on their way to work, it feels more like a war zone.

When my train pulled into Gare du Nord on Saturday afternoon, I found a city in gridlock. The streets leading to my apartment were closed. Having seen my fair share of French protests, I naively assumed that when the roads opened after 7pm, all would be fine. 

Only, later that evening, as we approached Canal St Martin, the air turned gray from a mixture of smoke and tear gas. Our Uber driver told us he couldn’t take us any further. The wheels of our suitcases crunched over broken glass. In the middle of the street, I saw groups of people with black baklavas covering their faces, throwing fireworks at the police. Sheltering in the entryway to strangers’ apartment building, we saw the police charge down the street. Once the neighborhood was cleared, residents of the building went outside to smoke. A few joggers even ran by. Were we overreacting?  

Protests are so embedded in French political life that ‘the streets’ are considered a fourth branch of government, according to Princeton history professor David A. Bell. But that evening, the largely peaceful demonstrations gave way to apocalyptic scenes of torched buildings and looting. 

The next day, all anyone could say was: “Je n’ai jamais rien vu de tel” – I’ve never seen anything like it. 

This is the backdrop for Paris Art Week, anchored by Art Basel Paris and Design Miami Paris, with countless satellite events planned across the capital. The protests have already come dangerously close to the Grand Palais, where Art Basel is set to be held. Le Monde reported gatherings at Place de la Concorde, about 700 metres from the Grand Palais (although the protesters did not reach the building itself).

A spokesperson for Art Basel told me that the fair plans to work closely with a private security company and, where necessary, the Paris police to ensure a safe environment. The measures include “anti-ram barriers” around the Grand Palais to prevent unauthorised vehicles from entering the site, additional security to “patrol the perimeter of the fair 24 hours a day” and security screenings for all visitors.

Art Basel Paris 2025. Courtesy of Art Basel.

Last night, Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu imposed curfews in parts of the city to prevent further rioting and looting, including the shopping neighbourhood of Les Halles and the Place de la République. Throughout the night, a helicopter flew over the square to monitor compliance. The Prime Minister has said news curfews will be decided as the situation requires. Asked how Art Basel might respond if a curfew was imposed across Paris, a spokesperson said the fair would be in touch if anything changed.

There are already signs the unrest may affect attendance. Two American collectors who had planned to come to Paris for Art Basel told me they had cancelled their trips. 

Some event organisers are also cancelling events. On October 15, the Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs announced the postponement of  PASSAGES – Pas sages, deeming it inappropriate amid a charged social climate. The Sunday opening event for Stan Douglas’s Parallax at the Jeu de Paume was cancelled “out of precaution”, as was the opening party of the exhibition L’Heure des possibles, a Guerlain-sponsored show on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. Last night also saw the opening of Gina Pane's exhibition at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts cancelled as students blocked entry.

Hauser & Wirth however went ahead with a reception to celebrate their new exhibition on Alexander Calder. Another one of the gallery’s artists, Jenny Holzer, is currently showing ÉCLAIRÉ, light projections on the Musée d’Orsay’s façade. “Seule la pensée fait les véritables révolutions,” reads one projection: “Only thought brings about true revolutions.”

Paris remains a city on edge. It is difficult to predict whether the unrest will end or where it might erupt next. On Sunday night, walking through the crowded shopping district of the Marias, my friends and I saw smoke floating from Place de la Republique, but we were not scared, thinking the upheaval would stay relegated to that area. Waking up the next morning, we discovered that looting had taken place five minutes from where we had been staring at the flames, at the department store, Le BHV Marias – a stone’s throw away from Notre Dame. 

Further protests are planned for this coming weekend. In an interview with Le Monde, young French protestors expressed their determination to continue “until the government responds to our demands”. What began in September with students protesting against run down classroom conditions has grown into a wider movement against a perceived rising cost of living and petrol prices.   

Yesterday, the day before the fair’s VIP opening, I walked to the Grand Palais. The venue felt like a fortress. On Avenue Winston Churchill, works for the fair’s public sculpture programme were being assembled and signs marking the VIP entrance had gone up. Intermittent sirens still turned heads. Although police vans and armed officers were lined along the street, the weekend’s violence felt far away.

Art Basel flags hang down the Champs-Élysées, a shark juxtaposition to the broken glass, boarded up stores and graffiti along the avenue: ‘1789’ (the year of the French Revolution), ‘ACAB’ (all cops are bastards), and ‘eat the rich.’

Will any of the art inside the fair engage with the issues being raised by demonstrators? Will exhibitors engage with the events unfolding around them? If so, and if done well, Art Basel might point to what art can offer amid troubling times. If not, the fair risks playing into what critics of contemporary art have long accused it of – that it exists in a vacuum.