I first met Jean Arp when he was, in fact, not Jean Arp but Hans Arp.  The French authorities after the war had forced the name to be changed but there was more to it than that. Hans, so he told me, was born in Strasbourg at 52 Rue du Vieux-Marché-aux-Poissons not far from the cathedral. We would meet regularly and exchange ideas for we … Continue reading Fictions: Arp