Guerrilla Feminists Adorn Paris at Night

Guerrilla Feminists Adorn Paris at Night

On a calm Tuesday night, a few hours before midnight, a dozen women carrying a variety of tote bags, backpacks, and plastic buckets gathered in front of an Argentine Metro stop in the 17th arrondissement of Paris. They come from all directions, but soon find each other and greet each other, and within minutes, the work has begun. Some fill buckets with powdered glue, others with water from bottles. The unluckiest group mixes the cold slurry by hand; Rafael, a 27-year-old lawyer, tells me, "In the winter the water in the fountain stops."

Almost every night since August, somewhere in the city, women gather in groups of two or three to paste black and white slogans on public walls demanding that the French government act to prevent femicide (the killing of women by their current or former partners) and other acts of violence against women The government has been working on this issue for the past year. Despite the government's promises of change last year, the women believe those promises are hollow. Rafael explains, "Murders are down in France, but murders of women are up. "In September 2019, Interior Minister Gérard Colombes reported a 22% increase in incidents of violence against women in 2018. By this evening, just seven days into the New Year, there had already been four female homicides. The slogan is "7 Janvier: 4 feminicides." 'I brought number five just in case,' Rafael said. If we don't glue that day, we have to make sure the number of murders is still up to date. As of press time, that number is 11.

Slogans vary, but the style is always the same. Black paint on white paper, mixed with wheat glue, pasted in long lines on public walls; A nos soeurs assassinées. To our murdered sisters; Nous sommes toutes des héroïnes. We are all heroines; On arrêtera de coller quand vous arrêtez de violer. When you stop raping us, we will stop pasting. They prefer to stick them in hard-to-reach places, such as overpasses and high windows, by climbing on top of trash cans, window ledges, and, in rare cases, ladders with both arms. This is because when the slogan gets defaced, these women simply return to the spot and reattach it.

On this night, the women, collectively known as les choruses, are gathered in larger numbers than usual, some in dark jeans and sweatshirts, others in office attire. These women had gathered on this night to paste a particular slogan for a particular reader. A week earlier, two women in the group had been attacked by a man from the neighborhood while they were pasting. Les Corrieuses made quick work of the sculpture's pedestal in the center of a prominent roundabout not far from the Arc de Triomphe." Ici un homme a frappé 2 colleuses:" Here one man attacked two men.

"That [violent] reaction was really new to us," explains Camille, a 24-year-old doctoral student. The man approached Rafael and another woman named Karma, shouting that the slogan was dirty and disrespectful. According to Rafael, the tactic when people get involved is to be nice and try to inform, but the man's tone was very aggressive. So the women did not stop pasting and returned the same aggressive tone. The man tried to kick and punch the women until someone on the street intervened. 'That's why we came here tonight,' he said. He lives near here." After the first slogan was placed on the sculpture's pedestal, the women broke into small groups and put the paper on the street as close as they could. By morning, the man who attacked them would wake up and see their neighborhood completely covered.

Dressed in a sweatshirt, sneakers, and scarf (pasting is tedious work), Rafael climbs to the edge of the window, paintbrush in hand, a bucket of glue at her feet. As she applies the glue to the paper and slaps each piece down hard, three men smoking outside the bar catch her eye. The men shout out their predictions of the resulting message, as in a "Wheel of Fortune" game. Raphael and Pauline complete the slogan, but the onlookers are no longer interested and return to their conversation: 1% des violeurs condamnes (1% of rapists are guilty). 1% of rapists are guilty.

People all over Europe are waking up to the guerrilla activity of Les Coruses. Started last August in Marseille by radical feminist Marguerite Stern, the movement has spread to more than 100 French cities and has reached Belgium, Germany, Italy, England, Portugal, and Luxembourg. There are reports that slogans have been found on the walls of Syria. In Paris alone, more than 300 women have joined the group, organized through WhatsApp and Facebook groups and Instagram, and city-specific Instagram accounts like @collages_feminicides_paris (opens in new tab) The work is proudly exhibited through The composition of the group is horizontal and there is no leader. Tutorials on how to paste and what materials to use are readily available through the various channels of Les Colleuses. The only requirement for participation is the belief that violence against women must be stopped.

Although there have been several instances of women being fined or threatened by the police, none of the Colleuses in France have yet been arrested. People who pass them on the street are either curious or angry. As Pauline and Raphael work, one of the proprietresses peeks out of the window, and the two explain the urgency of the slogan and why it is important to continue it. The woman replied that she would remove it tomorrow and eventually closed the window. She said, "You know you shouldn't do this," and I was like, "Yeah, I know," says Raphael. Pauline added firmly, "That's the point."

"Before I joined the movement, I used to be afraid," said a 29-year-old woman named Caro, who was following me as I did a paste-up another night.

"But after seeing the collages and knowing that so many women are joining this revolution, I'm not afraid anymore. I feel empowered every day." She used to be ashamed of her abusive experiences. Now I know it is the men who should be ashamed." That night, Caro walked down the middle of a major Parisian highway closed for construction, climbed a ladder and Plus ecoutées mortes que vivantes ("I hear more dead than alive") the next morning, plastering the walls where hundreds of cars could be seen.

"This is patriarchal thinking. These are our streets, our buildings, our laws. And you women are ours, too," one of the coreus, who wished to remain anonymous, tells me. But this is ......." She says. Gesturing to the women who had put up the collage that Tuesday night. Now we are free."

CORRECTION: An earlier version of this article stated that the movement had spread to 13 French departments, but it has spread to a mix of cities and French territories.

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