It cannot surprise any of my treasured readers to know that the writer of this rather catty stab at insight into the New York art scene (particularly on stage) is not a fin de siècle Jewish dandy who inspired Proust’s Charles Swann in À la recherche du temps perdu. I am, as I hinted in my old bio, a rather affected student living in New York. Soon I will travel to the land where all the snobs with airs and stabs at erudition eventually find themselves: Paris. I’ll be there for nine months, during which time I hope to cover the Parisian cultural milieu, with particular attention to events, exhibitions, performances and happenings for those not fluent in the lingua franca of the 19th Century. I will also document my time in the alleys and boulevards of the City of Lights along with my travels on the continent outside the aloof embrace of those twenty almost too chic arrondissements. Expect particular attention paid to those parts of France you can chew, swallow or both.

As I have dropped the veil of anonymity in the guise of a long interred Frenchman, it seems only fair that I reveal my given name, and if I reveal my given name it seems only a little preposterous to continue calling this enterprise ‘Le Journal de Charles Haas’ (if only because even with an aspirated h, Haas tends to produce giggles not genuflection or even respect) but if only out of my love for Proust I cannot not entirely discard this ridiculous sobriquet, so welcome dear readers to ‘Le Journal de Charles Swann.’

-Christopher Alexander Gellert

P.S. Upon my return I will resume my chronicle of New York City’s vast, varied, sublime, and subterranean cultural milieu. Until we meet again ma chère!

P.P.S. The blog’s new name has a shiny new address to go with it. While remains active, the primary domain is now A little less cumbersome.