Café Guerbois

I was hanging out with a couple of friends last night who are building Eido Labs—an agentic DAO—and I was shilling them on the idea of building an AI salon in Bangalore.

I got home around 4 AM and started doomscrolling Twitter.

I came across this tweet where Alex had just hosted a small gathering of AI builders, coinciding with OpenAI’s announcement of their new Agents SDK.

I've always been a huge fan of these close-knit spaces, especially what Josh has built with Sundays.rsvp. These spaces don’t attract the talkers, the networkers, or the sales guys looking to make deals and expand their Dunbar circle.

They exist to spark conversations, ideas, and debates, to get your brain running until you find yourself in a flow state. They are not tied to an identity. They are not for developers, or product people, or marketers—they are for artists, for anyone with the ability to think and bring their vision to life in any form, whether through content, art, or code.

Then, I stumbled upon this tweet by Richard (an Australian Qantas pilot), which sent me deep down the rabbit hole of Café Guerbois.

Though physically erased from modern Paris, Café Guerbois remains one of the most culturally significant establishments in art history. In the 1860s and 1870s, it served as the incubator for the revolutionary Impressionist movement, hosting the vibrant discussions and fierce debates that would forever alter the course of Western art. While the original café has long been replaced by modern shops, its legacy endures as a symbol of artistic collaboration, intellectual freedom, and cultural transformation.

The group later came to be known as the Batignolles Group, gathering at Café Guerbois every Thursday and Sunday between 1866 and 1874. During these sessions, artists engaged in spirited discussions about art, politics, and philosophy, often "gesticulating with their hands" as they debated existential matters and artistic techniques.

Something revolutionary was brewing within these walls.

Through countless conversations at the café, a new artistic philosophy emerged—one that would fundamentally reshape Western art.

These were spaces where fierce artistic disagreements coexisted with personal respect and camaraderie. They resemble the rooms where GOAT teams sit today—places where free thinking and open discourse fuel breakthroughs. If you’re in the right circle, these heated debates don’t just spark new ideas; they forge lifelong friendships and future co-creators.

It was 5 AM when I bought guerbois.rsvp.

I have no concrete plan for it yet. But the vision is clear: to create a space for people working in AI where hierarchies dissolve, allowing researchers, engineers, entrepreneurs, ethicists, and artists to engage as equals. A space that prioritizes organic conversation and intellectual exploration over presentations or networking.

I don’t want to force guerbois.rsvp into a mold. Instead, I want to bring together the people who can think, create, and bring their ideas to life. They will define what eventually appears on its landing page. Until then, it remains a blank canvas—one that these thinkers will paint.

Just as the Batignolles Group centered around Manet, an AI Guerbois would benefit from having recognized industry figures as regulars—people whose presence anchors the discussions and raises the bar for intellectual rigor.

We need:

• Socratic dialogues on emerging AI capabilities and their implications

• Devil’s advocate debates on controversial topics (such as AI regulation approaches)

• Round-robin problem-solving sessions where participants share challenges they’re facing

• “State of the field” discussions where attendees exchange observations on AI’s evolution

The success of Café Guerbois wasn’t just about the people—it was about the culture. It was a place where passionate disagreement coexisted with mutual respect. For guerbois.rsvp to thrive, cultivating this balance will be essential.

I’ll leave it at that.

Until then, let’s see what guerbois.rsvp evolves into!