Abigail Hansen discovers why managing partner Bernard Grinspan came up with such a bizarre idea. A Chinese stall here, an Indian orchestra there, a Moroccan tearoom around the corner. Begoggled bartenders, suspended horizontally from chains, serve drinks with aplomb, techno music throbs, while a massive ice sculpture slowly melts. Onward and upwards, where grass sprouts from the floors, an entire room blossoms with flowers and birdcages, and another clatters with whimsical gadgets. Monitors relay images from other rooms, or mutely display insects, fish, deserts.
Bizarre characters float around in fluorescent wigs, futuristic dresses, flashing shirts.
There are indescribably dense layers of activity, odour and sound. It is as if you are somewhere else, in another universe, isolated from the rest of the world. Welcome, indeed, to the Paris office of the 700-lawyer US firm, where managing partner Bernard Grinspan decided to throw a party which he admits he wanted to take to the extreme. Even so, he feels that he did not go far enough. I wanted an entire room filled with screens, a whole visual environment, but it was several tons of equipment.