Finally, The Louvre! And Strolling Through Paris with French Friends

Jul8

Saturday, July 7, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!

Luxuriating in the Louvre:
So I finally did it! Since this is my last week in Paris, it is now time to get to the tried-and-tested venues to luxuriate over them again. So I did get back to the Louvre again–last week’s hasty attempt to see David’s Horatio was simply not long enough for me. This time I went alone!–to enjoy the place at my leisure and to re-visit some of my favorite works in that treasury of art! Llew preferred to say home to rest and recuperate from all the mad running around town to which I have been subjecting him! He also needed to get our apartment organized for the arrival of our French friends from Normandy, Jacques and Florence Lesrouxelles.

So, off I went after we’d breakfasted together on the Eric Kayser ‘flute’ that I picked up from one of his artisan boulangeries. It was delicious with our range of preserves and good coffee.  I took the metro and went along a very complicated route to avoid connecting at Chalelet. But I reached about 12.00 noon and started my search through the galleries. Entry was free for me with my Metropolitan Museum ID which is such a HUGE boon. If I ever return to live long-term in Paris, it is so good to know that I will be able to haunt the museums free of charge and study the works in detail without having to worry about paying 10 euros each time I enter.

There was a line and it took me about 12 minutes to enter–during which time a light shower began. A sweet French college student who was also alone, shared her umbrella with me. But then we were inside I.M. Pei’s wonderful glass triangle, the Pyramid, and I was making my way through the Denton wing to see the Renaissance works. Of course, there was still a mob around the Mona Lisa, but I tried hard to ignore it as I studied the other Italian works that surround her. Apart from Veronese’ monumental Marriage in Cana, there are some fabulous Titian pieces in the same room–sadly, most of them go ignored because everyone is being jostled about to look at Mona.

Also sadly, a portrait of “An Unknown Woman”, also by Leonardo da Vinci in the main Renaissance hallway that sits rights next to his John the Baptist gets no viewers at all, although they are just as technically brilliant. I feasted my eyes on the three Caravaggios that the Louvre boasts, especially The Fortune Teller which is so different from George de la Tour’s that hangs in the Met. Hard to believe that his Death of the Virgin was rejected by the Church in Trastavere in Rome because it did not look religious enough. Instead the church selected a work by an unknown artist whose name I still can’t remember. Some fine Botticellis and a superb Carlo Crivelli are in the same gallery (I so rarely get to see a Crivelli  work. He is one of my favorite Renaisssance artists and I simply stand in awe of them wherever I find them). There were also some grand canvasses by Andrea del Sarto who is also a Renaissance Master I have come to like very much.

In the next room, I closely scrutinized works by Paolo Uccello (especially his Battle of San Romano) which is badly in need of restoration. The twin one in the National Gallery in London has been wonderfully cleaned up and now glows with grandeur. I took pictures of the Botticelli frescoes–two really delicate ones that portray women with fine angelic features. From there, I had a great time looking at work from Flanders. There were two really nice portraits by Franz Hals and a whole slew of Rembrandts including three self-portraits, all of which were grouped very closely together, allowing the viewer to study the manner in which the painter aged as his technique improved. In the same section, there are Vermeer’s great works including his Lacemaker which everyone goes to see, although I really did prefer The Astronomer which sits at the side–for its greater detail. There were also some good canvasses by Pieter de Hooch whose Courtyard of a House in Delft is my favorite one in the National Gallery in London.

I rushed through the gallery containing some immense works by Rubens before I set off to see the Crown Jewels that sit in the most opulent part of the Lourve–which once used to be the palace of French kings.More than the items in the vitrines, it is the decoration of the gallery that I adore–the ornate Classical touches that include sculpture and paintings of the greatest French artists of all time and their patrons–the many kings who allowed them to bring their talent to fruition. I got great portraits of Le Notre, and Le Brun, of Louix XIV and of Francois I, for instance. I did take pictures of some of the crowns, particularly of King Louis who became St. Louis of France. Finally, I ended my visit with a look at some of the work by George de la Tour in the Sully wing and was sorry to note that his Card Players is traveling and is in Montpellier right now. Dommage! En route, I passed by the Impressionist wing and found Renoir’s The Readers which was really charming.   

I think this time, more than on my past visits, I was completely taken by the awesome interiors of the museum, especially in the Royal wing where I was in shock at the magnificent painted ceilings and other decoration so perfectly executed. I keep forgetting how beautiful the galleries are. On this visit, I ended up taking more pictures of the interior design and decoration than of the works themselves.I also took a lot of pictures of the exterior of the Palais Royale and the Gardens.

A Warm Welcome to Friends from Normandy:
Overall, I had a fantastic time and was sorry I had to hurry it along as I needed to be home at 3. 30 in time for the arrival of our friends Jacques and Florence who were arriving at our place from Normandy to spend the weekend with us.  By the time I got home at 5.00 pm (I simply could not leave the Louvre without seeing all I wanted), they were already at our place. We had a cuppa together and then off we went to explore Paris, starting with a stroll through Cite-Universitaire as Florence, who is an architect by profession, wanted to see the Fondation Suisse building which is the work of architect Le Corbusier.

On the metro we went to Ile de la Cite where we first visited the bookshop called Shakespeare and Co that I thought Llew would enjoy seeing. As I expected, he loved it and wanted to return to it to browse at his leisure. (Note to Self: Next time you go to a museum, leave Llew in a bookshop). Next, we went to Rue de la Huchette to enter the Latin Quarter for dinner. Florence was keen to eat an Indian meal and she suggested we try a place called Taj Mahal. The food was very tasty if a bit too bland for our Indian palates–Chicken Tikka Masala, Prawn Curry, Daal with Spinach, Rice and Naans. For dessert, we took a lovely long walk in the moonlight along the quais of the Seine to the Ile de St. Louis where we tried some new flavors of Berthillon ice-cream and introduced our friends to it. This time I went for Chocolat Nougat (Llew chose the same), Florence had a very interesting Thyme Citron (Thyme-Lemon) sorbet and I can’t remember what Jacques had! While we were deciding whether to take the bateau-mouch ride or not, the drizzle began and it continued for at least the next hour. This put paid to our plans to take a moonlit ride on the Seine to see the illuminated buildings. Instead we walked to Sainte Chapelle and then took the metro home from there.

All of us were really exhausted after our long ramble in the city. So I suppose it was not surprising that we went straight to bed after we’d made our guests comfortable in the living room.

A demain!
 

Rose Line at Palais Royale, Musee Nissim Camondo & Thai Dinner

Jul7

Friday, July 6, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!
I awoke with the thought that I ought to try and finish up all the bits and bobs on my To-Do List and, believe  me, they are varied:
1. Taste baguette known as ‘flute’ from Eric Kayser (Managed to do that today).
2, Go in search of Dan Brown’s Rose Line at the Palais Royale. Reference is to The Da Vinci Code. (Been there, Done that–Today!)
3. Look for Pierre Hermes pastries, especially his unusually flavored macarons. Haven’t found him yet.
4. Look for street market food at Rue Mouffetard. (Did it today).
5.Visit Musee Nissim Camondo (Mission Accomplished–also today).
6. Eat at Bouillon Chartier (Will be going there for dinner with friends on Sunday).
7. Go back to Louvre to linger over Millet, Caravaggio, Vermeer, etc. Don’t know when I can squeeze it in).
8. Go to Musee D’Orsay to feast on the Impressionists (Will be taking our friend Cynthia there when she arrives on Monday).
9. Return to Giverny to drool over Monet’s Garden (Ditto–Cynthia wants to go there).
10. Get off at Bir-Hakeim to see memorials to French Jews at what used to be the Velodrome d’Hiver (Vel D’Hiv). Will probably do that with Jacques and Florence tomorrow when we explore Palais de Chaillot and Tour Eiffel.
11. Decide what color fascinator I want to go home with from Galleries Lafayette. (This might be the hardest thing to do!)
……….
………….
…………….

Yes, I am beginning to face the reality of the fact that we will not remain here much longer and there are still some miscellaneous items on my List to tick off. But today, being our last day of solitary couplehood together (from tomorrow we will have guests staying with us from Normandy and then London), we decided to make the very most of it.

Off to Rue Mouffetard:
So, after Llew took care of the chore of doing laundry for us and I finally caught up with my blog, we ate a very late breakfast (Jordan’s muesli plus leftover bits of brioche and baguette with coffee) and left our apartment really late to take the metro to Place Monge. My aim was to find Rue Mouffetard where street markets have been held since Roman times. The bonus was that we found ourselves in an ancient part of Paris that remained untouched by the magical hand of Baron Haussmann and, therefore, retains its small village ambiance rather than the grand city feel of the rest of the place. Streets are winding (not clean cut knife slashes that end in triangles) and narrow, not punctuated with the plane or chestnut tress that are profuse in the rest of the City of Light. Vendors place their wares on the pavement (you have to dodge cartons of flat white peaches and strange ‘striped’ tomatoes). Buildings have varied facades. At one corner is an ancient “fountain” known as the Pot de Fer–built by Marie de Medici to provide water for Luxembourg Palace. It turned out to be the most anti-climatic thing we have ever seen in Paris. The ‘fountain’ was a thick iron pipe that curves into a faucet from which a rather thin stream of water issued forth. One of the vendors on the streets (when we had inquired about its location had said it was “Magnifique!”–he must have had a very good sense of humor or was pulling our legs).

We visited the ancient church of St. Medard, also in the same general area–not too far from the factory that used to produce the Gobelins tapestries for royalty from the Middle Ages onwards. They still produce those tapestries, but we did not pause to take a look. Inside the church, mass was in progress. We were discreet as we went looking for Zurbaran’s great work, St. Joseph Walking with Jesus which was really lovely. Again, Gothic dimensions, soaring nave and gilded altar combined to create a fine interior. After a short prayer, we left–again discreetly.

Mission Dan Brown at the Palais Royale:
At Place Monge, we took the metro again to the Palais Royale. I was on a Dan Brown Mission–to seek and find the Arago brass discs set into the pavement (similar to the Jubilee Discs and the Diana Walk discs in London). These were put into place in 1984 when the French held a competition to design a monument commemorating French astronomers. Instead of a sculpture, a Dutch artist named Jan Dibbets came up with the unique idea of setting discs in the pavement to mark the path named for Francois Arago (1786-1853), the man who precisely calculated the Paris Meridian or Rose Line Meridian that cuts a diagonal streak through Paris from the Church of Sacred Coeur at Montmartre to the Palais Royale in the form of 135 discs.  (I had followed Dan Brown’s Brass Line, if you remember, a few weeks ago at the Church of St. Suplice).  Each Arago brass disc, 5 inches wide, is marked N/S (North/South) with the name Arago in the center. At any rate, we hadn’t covered the Palais Royale area on foot and there was a lot of literary interest into which I wished to peek.

I found the disc at the very entrance of the Palais Royale just past the Cafe des Nemours. So, Mission Well Accomplished!

Daniel Burren’s Sculpture:
Then, past the Lourve Square, we crossed the street and went in search of the black and white columns of varying heights installed in 1986 by French artist Daniel Burren. In this wide courtyard is the massive building of the Comedie Francaise, the famous theater company founded in 1680 which saw the first theatrical ventures of Moliere and Racine, among others. College French lectures came back to mind as we walked through the courtyard to enter the beautiful formal gardens of the Palais Royale (so-called because they are attached to the Palais de Louvre, once the home of France’s kings).

The Gardens of the Palais Royale:
Well, the gardens were gorgeous. People were indulging in all sorts of activities from the more active (games of petanque with heavy shiny balls on the sidelines) to the more sedentary (several were reading or daydreaming on the benches overlooking lush perennial flower beds and charming sculpture). We walked the length of the gardens and got to the other side to find the plaque set in the wall that denotes the apartment into which the French writer Collette had moved with her third husband (17 years younger than she). She spent the last 25 years of her life propped up in her bed writing as she overlooked the gardens! I could be eternally productive too if I had such a view! She was the first female writer to be awarded the French Legion d’Honneur.

We then walked to the far end of the quadrangle to see the famous restaurant, the Grand Vefours, which has played host to every French ‘celeb’ you can think of–from Napoleon to Jean Cocteau. Each of them has plaques on the seats to mark their presence. We entered the beautiful vestibule of the small eatery to admire its decor in the Directoire style–marked by straight lines of painted figures on both walls and ceiling (similar to several rooms in the Vatican). The maitre d’ was indulgent enough of our desire to appreciate his surroundings.

Perusing the Bibliotheque Nationale:
Through the grand arcades of the Palais Royale we left to enter the world of the common man and found ourselves right in front of the Bibliotheque Nationale–the National Library–with its imposing Greek architecture and its impressive interior. Although the majority of the library’s most prized collection and archives have been moved to a newer building, the coins, medals and numismatics collection is still in this venue. We were fortunate to be able to catch a permanent exhibition on the first and mezzanine floors which took us up a red carpeted marble staircase past a sculpture of Voltaire to the vitrines set in beautiful galleries with heavily gilded ceilings. Sussing out this building was also on my To-Do List, so I was delighted that we not only entered and perused it but caught a glimpse of some of its most valuable assets.

Browsing in Galleries Vivienne:
On the way to the metro, we stumbled upon one of Paris’ famous covered arcades: shops built under arches to form a sort of pedestrian plaza. London has a few of them around Picadilly. Although I had seen a couple, this one was truly spectacular from the point of view of decor and ambience. Naturally, we had to saunter in to check it out and how charmed we were! Pretty little modern-day boutqiues sit cheek by jowl with ancient bookshops (you can bet Llew took a trawl through). At the end of the arcade was another hidden branch that curved sharply right–another series of boutiques presented themselves. My camera was busy taking pictures of the decorative and architectural elements of the space–lovely little Classical touches all over–and then we left.

Off to the Musee Niussim Camondo:
Back on the metro we went at Bourse station (past the Bourse which is the French Stock Exchange–now undergoing heavy interior renovation) to arrive at Parc Monceau. A short walk later, we were at the entrance of the hotel particulier (private mansion) that was owned by the fabulously wealthy but ill-fated Jewish family known as the Camondos, who had once lived here in such splendour.

Here is a short history of the family:
The Camondos were Turkish Jews who made their fortune in banking in the 18th century. When things got uncomfortable for Jews in Istanbul, the scion of the family, named Nissim Camondo, moved to France (then the most hospitable place for Jews) with his family. This was the mid 19-century. Upon his death, his son Moise inherited his fortune and his banking business. He married a beautiful French woman named Irene who bore him two children: Nissim (named after his grandfather) and Beatrice. Not long after, Irene fell in love with the Keeper of her husband’s stables, left husband Moise and her children behind to ride off into the sunset.

Devastated, Moise devoted himself to raising his children as a loving father and retreated from the world into his massive love of the 18th century. Through the 19th century and into the 20th, he spent his colossal fortune building an 18th century style mansion adjoining Parc Monceau and filling it to the rafters with 18th century items–I mean there is not a single thing in sight that does not date from the 1700s. And in the dealer and antiquarian Seligman, he found a worthy partner who scoured the world on his behalf to find items that were not only beautiful and rare but held a worthy provenance: most of them had belonged to French royalty. The result is a treasury of furniture and art works that have to be seen to be believed.

I called the family ill-fated because Moise’s son, Nissim, entered World War I as a reconnaissance pilot providing France with a great deal of important intelligence about German positions until he got into a air fight with a German plane. Both planes went down in flames and Nissim was no more. Even more devastated at the loss of his son, Moise became a recluse. Realizing that his fortune and collection would no longer remain in the family, he decided to turn it over to the French state and placed his daughter Beatrice in-charge of creating a museum out of his world to be named after her brother Nissim.

Beatrice faithfully carried out her father’s wishes. Moise died in 1925. The Musee Nissim Camondo opened in 1930. Beatrice managed it beautifully. She married Leon Reinarch and with him she had two children. She converted to Catholicism and because of her position in French society plus her new faith, believed that she would remain untouched by the anti-Jewish hatred fanned by the Nazi Occupation of France. Hence, she disregarded her husband Leon’s pleas that they should emigrate out of Europe. In 1944, the last reminaing Camondos (Beatrice, her husband Leon and their children) were deported to Auschwitz and were never heard of again. The Camondo family had ceased to exist.

Even as I type these words, I have goosebumps because the poignancy of their fate is simply impossible to accept. The fact that one of France’s wealthiest and most powerful families was simply snuffed out by the War makes me realize how much in despair ordinary Jews might have been during that wretched period. It also brings home the fact that while money can buy a lot of things, it cannot buy Love (Beatrice left Moise) and it cannot guarantee Life (Moise’s only son and heir, Nissim, was killed). Fortunately, the French State and the private committees that set about to guard the property and the possessions of Moise have done an exceedingly fine job. To enter the Musee is to leave the normal world behind and truly enter the past. There is opulence yes, but there is also exquisite taste. This is an eclectic collection: unlike the Jacquemart-Andre collection, not many of the paintings are by Old Masters, for instance (although there are a few Guardi landscapes of Venice). Moise’s passion was the 18th century and everything gorgeous that it produced. Hence, you will find furniture, carpets, table-top sculpture, engravings, terracotta busts, silver, porcelain, crystal chandeliers–indeed an entire room is given to a display of his porcelain dinnerware including a Sevres set portraying paintings of birds by the French artist Buffon.

The audio guided tour winds through the lower level where the public rooms were to the top level to the bedrooms and personal spaces of the family and ends in the basement where we saw the kitchen filled with shiny copper ware, the butler’s pantry and office and the dining room of the servants. If you are a lover of the 18th century and want to see everything associated with that era, this is the place to lose yourself completely. If you want to see desks that belonged to Marie-Antoinette, Sevres porcelain occasional tables that Madame du Barry collected, rare petrified wood vases that look just like porcelain (also belonging to Marie-Antoinette), etc, etc etc. all placed in their original positions exactly as they were when Moise lived in this home, then this is the place to be. The concept is very similar to  New York’s Frick Museum, Boston’s Isabella Gardner Museum and London’s Wallace Collection. It is when I peruse such spaces that I thank my lucky stars for the opportunity that has brought me to Paris for such a prolonged period, for I simply would not have been able to see such treasures were I simply another tourist. This is quite simply a not-to-be-missed museum and although there were a few visitors around, it is certainly not on anyone’s Must-Do List. More’s the pity.

Tea at Eric Kayser’s:
With time to kill before our dinner appointment, Llew and I were thrilled to come upon Eric Kayser’s Salon de The on Boulevarde de Courcelles right opposite the Church of St. Augustine–and not a moment too soon. For it came down in unbelievable sheets before our astonished eyes as we were safely ensconced inside with steaming cups of lemony Darjeeling and Kayser’s heavenly chocolate-hazelnut slices. The rain stopped, rather obligingly, about twenty minutes later, leaving the sun to shine brightly again–bizarre!

It was time for us to buy a ‘flute’ from the bakery, then hop on a bus and take a ride to kill time all the way to Montparnasse where we passed by some of the city’s worthiest monuments.

Thai Dinner with Friend s at Coco’s Tree:
At 8.00 om, after a lovely walk along Rue de Courcelles, we were ringing the doorbell of our new Parisian friends, Ashok and Anu, who had invited us to their apartment for drinks. And what a grand apartment it is! I mean, it is huge and spaciously laid out with light filled rooms and their fantastic range of interior accessories. We made ourselves comfortable with glasses of champagne and about 45 minutes later, were joined by another couple: Ramesh, a former Indian ambassador and his French wife, Flo. About fifteen minutes and another drink later, we walked down the street to Coco’s Tree which has to have served some of the best Thai food I have ever eaten.

Each of us chose a plat and there was a variety around the table–from gigantic prawns with Pad Thai to my Duck with basil sauce, to green chicken curry to pork roast to beef steak. Every single thing was different and delicious–we passed plates around for a sampling session as we were surprised to discover that the food was not served family-style the way Thai food usually is. Still, everything was simply scrumptious. Dessert was a variety of exotic ice-creams: jack fruit, coconut, sweet potato and mango! Lovely, lovely, lovely–and definitely a Parisian restaurant to which I would return.

Apart from the food, the company was probably some of the best I have ever enjoyed,. Our conversation ranged from books and movies about Paris to little-known parts of the city, from the scandals of DSK who was unfavorably compared to Bill Clinton to Indian students in Paris. We talked about ever so much that was engaging and stimulating and enlightening. I love a dinner conversation from which I learn something useful and practical (and this offered both) but which is also amusing and entertaining. I loved every second of the evening and wished it were longer.

But, alas, we’d had a long day and we were pooped. Our generous hosts picked up the entire tab, Ramesh and Flo gave us a ride back to Denfert-Rochereau from where we jumped on the RER train and got home, sleepy and exhausted–but well satiated after what has been one of my best days in Paris.

A demain!                            

Last NEH Session, Musee Rodin and a Farewell Party

Jul6

Thursday, July 5, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!
Hard to believe I was heading out today to the IHTP (Institute d’Histoire du Temps Present)  for our last NEH session–a Round Table discussion featuring our directors Joe and Henri and a special guest appearance by two other French public intellectuals Marc and Pascal. The guests spoke in French–each presenting a lecture of 40 minutes–which was followed by a long session of questions and discussion. It was engaging, stimulating and a fine way to end our five-week long seminar. I am still stunned that my raison d’etre for Paris has come to a close. Harder still to believe that I have only one more week left to enjoy this city fully, live completely in the moment and hoard up memories to treasure for the rest of my life.

Off to Shop at E. Dehilerrin:
Since we finished much earlier than I had expected, I had about 45 minutes to kill before I needed to get to the Musee Rodin where Llew and I had arranged to meet at 2. 15. Wanting to make the time most productive, I rushed on the metro to Chatelet Les Halles (the worst station to ever make a correspondance) and finally arrived at the store called E. Dehilerrin near the Church of St. Eustache. Since it wasn’t very crowded, I had hoped to be in and out in a jiffy as I knew exactly what I wanted to buy.

Well, I keep forgetting I am not in New York where speed is the very essence of life. Here, just the opposite attitude prevails–one that believes in prolonging each moment and let the clock be damned! Well, I found the items I wanted in seconds, went up to the counter and ran into a quagmire. The guy supposed to give me an affiche (an itemized bill) was nouveau (new to the job) and had no clue how to go about making one. So basically all he does right now is wrap one’s wares after they have been paid for. I had to wait absolute ages for another assistant to become free to make my affiche–and, seriously, he could not have been more sluggish. In-between working it out, he made small talk with various customers (mostly Americans) in a bid  to show off his English! Once I got the affiche in my hand, I had to move to another counter to pay for them–I still had no idea what they cost as there were no prices marked anywhere (neither on the items, nor the shelf that stocked them, nor on the affiche!) The actual payment did not take too long with a credit card. Once I had paid, I was required to take the receipt back to my young useless friend who checked the items off against the receipt and wrapped them. I told him I was presse (in a hurry) at which point, I think he stirred out of his bored stupor and got down to some serious wrapping. By the time I left the store, it took more than 25 minutes for a purchase that would have taken no more than 10 in the States.

Racing To the Musee Rodin:
I raced off toward Rue de Varenne to meet Llew at the Hotel Birot where the 20th century sculptor Auguste Rodin had lived and which he worked hard during this own lifetime to turn into a museum. I reached there only at 2. 35, so poor Llew had been waiting for more than half an hour as he had arrived early at 2.00 pm.

Still, after stashing my heavy purchases in the Vestiaire (Cloak Room), we began our examination of Rodin’s work at his most famous sculpture, The Thinker, which towers above the roses in the garden. Loads of people had lined up to take pictures with this iconic sculpture and we joined the queue. Le Penseur is a massive sight seated high on a stone pedestal with the gold dome of Les Invalides Church forming a splendid backdrop. He can’t be doing too much thinking with the distraction below his perch: oggling tourists are only one of them. If I were him, I’d be thinking how beautiful the roses are in the gardens at this time of year. I mean they were gorgeous: huge, many colored and fragrant.

From The Thinker, we headed further and further into the garden to see Balzac, Eve, the Three Shades, Tribute to Victor Hugo and various studies for the monumental Burghers of Calais. Some construction in the garden kept the works from being enjoyed as their maker had intended them to be–which was also annoying to the viewer. Still, once we had seen the vast number of studies, we came upon the actual finished product–the Burghers of Calais of which there are many copies around the world (I have seen one in the Embankment Gardens in London close to Big Ben and there is another in the Metropolitan Museum in New York) and spent a great while perusing it from varied angles. Rodin’s Modernist vision is very evident in the unusual poses he created for his subjects, most of whom would be incapable of contorting their bodies into such forms.

Eventually, we made our way to the Gates of Hell, Rodin’s most gigantic work, inspired by Dante’s vision of the Last Judgement and Hell in The Divine Comedy. Interestingly, the figures Rodin had sculpted earlier (The Thiker, the Three Shades) find their place in smaller size on these doors that are deeply three-dimensional. They are truly the piece de resistance of the garden collection.

A word about the Gardens at the museum: They are simple glorious and it is worth visiting the museum only to see the roses, hydrangeas (Annabel, Mophead and Oakleaf) and day lilies that are thriving in the full sunshine (why, oh why, do plants not do as lushly in my garden?) The sculptures are set around winding pathways through the perennial flower beds and make a fantastic fitting backdrop to the grandeur and monumentality of the works. Truly, I do believe that sculpture was created to be exhibited and viewed in a garden!

Inside the Hotel Birot:
We next trooped into the home that Rodin had occupied for many years–a grand hotel particulier (private mansion) in the rocaille style. I discovered this to mean a place filled with wooden panels with the lightest curlicues carved into them. After the grandeur of the gardens, the interior works seemed to lose their impact. They were much smaller and were mainly marquettes (studies) done in plaster of Paris. Two sculptures that catch the eye are by Camille Claudel who, I discovered, was Rodin’s lifelong companion and Muse. Her work in onyx and brass was just grand. The pieces are table top size but they truly do enchant.

Finally, we entered the section of the museum devoted to Rodin’s marble sculpture and it was here that the viewer was able to see the progression in style and vision of the sculptor and the impact of Modernism upon his work. He started with works in the late 1880s that were frankly representational and did not reflect any attempt at developing an individualistic style. The exquisite contours of Alsacienne Peasant, for instance, fall within this category.

As we moved further into the exhibition, we were able to see how his style changed. Various studies for The Kiss culminated in the final huge version which was placed in this part of the museum (there is a bronze copy right outside the Musee de L’Orangerie which Llew and I had seen earlier on Sunday). Although we were allowed to take pictures of the sculpture in the garden, we were forbidden to do so inside the special Marble exhibiton. We hurried through the last works and made our way outside once again.

Hasty Shopping:
We wondered if we were being too brave or too foolish in inviting the American Director of the Fondation Des Etats-Unis, Terence and his French wife Catherine, to come over to our minimalist apartment for drinks this evening. It turned out, we were neither, as the evening was very relaxed. But first…

I had some shopping to do for wine and nibbles. Since we do not have a well-stocked bar here, I had inquried about our guests’ choice in drinks. They had informed us that they enjoy a Loire Valley white–so on our way back from the Musee Rodin, I jumped off at Montparnasse, darted into the Monoprix, picked up wine, guacamole, smoked salted almonds, cheese and strawberries–jumped back on the train again, got home to put out a platter of fruit and cheese and nuts, chilled the wine, darted into the shower and got ready for the arrival of our guests.

Terence and Catherine arrived at 6.00pm and spent the next hour with us. We had a lovely time with them–a warm, extroverted couple who kept up a lively chatter. Terence has done a great deal to keep me comfortable and happy here in my beautiful Parisian apartment and I wanted to show my appreciation in some small way. It was a pleasure to spend time getting to know them and I am so pleased we planned to have them over. It will be our only experience entertaining in this space.

Off to a Farewell Party:
At just past 7.00pm, our guests left, allowing us to get organized for the next part of the evening–a Farewell NEH Party at the apartment of one of my new friends Jennifer who provided the wine but asked us to bring along nibbles. I took guacamole and sliced baguette over to her place which is close to the Pernety metro station and in the light drizzle, we found our way to her place.

We spent the next couple of hours with friends who were sorry to be leaving Paris soon after what had been a very fruitful seminar session. My new English friend Nat fixed me a really deadly drink he called Tea Punch, made exclusively with rum, muddled lime and sugar! It was the strongest think I had ever drunk and soon had to dilute it with orange soda! As the guests poured in, they brought nibbles with them: salami sausage, pistachios, pretzels, taramasalata, pate, cherry tomatoes–it was a motley spread. And then Noit arrived with a giant Strawberry Tart and we all carved out bits of it for dessert.

At 10.00 pm, with my eyes fairly closing, we took our leave, making promises to stay in touch. Back on the metro, we arrived at our apartment at 10. 30 pm and went off to bed.

A demain!

Fantabulous Fontainebleu!

Jul5

Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour! And A Happy Fourth!
(Can’t believe this is my 400th Blog Post!)

As neither Llew nor I had ever been to the Loire Valley, we intended to spend a weekend there viewing the famous chateaux (French castles). But, unfortunately, we were not able to rent a car for the days we wanted it and trains would have proven both expensive and inconvenient. In the end, we decided to see at least one chateau within easy commuting distance of Paris. And again, since both of us have been to Versailles, seat of the Bourbon Kings, not just once but twice, we decided to go to the Chateau of Fontainebleu.

A Bit of a Hike:
We ate a hasty typically Parisian breakfast of toast, preserves and coffee and left our apartment at 9.00 am to ride the metro to Gare de Lyon (which took us half an hour). But 9. 45, we were buying our round trip tickets to Fontainebleu-Avon (about 15 euros a piece, but it turned out that the clerk sold us a Mobilis which is a day pass for zones 1-5. This gave us unlimited use of the entire Paris transport system for the entire day).

The next Transilien train was scheduled to leave at 10. 15, but it turned out to be late by almost 15 minutes and did not leave until 10.30 am. The ride lasted 45 minutes, dropping us off at Fontainebleu at 11. 15 am. From there, we hopped into the No. 1 Bus which took 15 minutes to fill up, also took 15 minutes to drop us to the Chateau gates where we arrived at 11. 45. By the time we bought our ticket, got our audio guides, etc. it was almost 12.00 noon. We could not believe that we had spent almost 3 hours trying to get to Fontainebleu.

An Amazing Tour of the Chateau:
But, in the end, it was so worth the long hike into the French countryside. The audio guide to the chateau was superb. It led us from room to room in a somewhat chronological fashion. Although the history of France is confusing, we gathered that the chateau has been in use by French kings for centuries, each of which added to its grandeur. However, the person responsible for its greatest embellishment is Francois I. Louis XIV, the Sun King, who also loved the chateau brought in his favorite landscape designer, Andre Le Notre, to redesign the gardens. It was he who added the vast Grand Parterre–divided into four geometric blocks, they were outlined by box edges and lush flower beds (which were past their prime). However, the royal personage that we most closely associate with the chateau is Napoleon Bonaparte, who crowned himself Emperor of France in 1804 and moved into the residence. The tour winds through his main apartments as well as those created for Popes and other dignitaries.

It would be impossible for me to try to describe the splendour of Fontainebleu. It is simply magnificent. Every possible element you can think of that created the design aesthetic we call Baroque is in evidence here. From the ceilings (which feature impressive Classical frescoes–some by Charles Le Brun, others by Francois Boucher) to the floors that are inlaid with expensive exotic woods in parquet designs that are amazingly complex, there is ostentation. Fabulous drapes in silk and satin and damask, paintings galore, sculpture, furniture by such important names as Boule, carpets by the Savonerie company, loads of tapestries by Gobelins and Belgian houses, gargantuan Sevres porcelain, Capodimonte vases–you name it, it is present here and in abundance.There is an entire gallery devoted exclusively to the Sevres porcelain plates commissioned to depict important events associated with the Chateau.  It seemed as if our tour would never end. I counted at least 40 rooms that we traversed–each more Over-The-Top than the one that preceded it– and by the end of it, we were well and truly exhausted–both physically as well as visually because there is only so much splendour an eye can  process. Quite simply, the most spectacular room was the Long Gallery filled with frescoes done by Il Rosso who was a pupil of Michelangelo. His work alternated with sculpture that features the salamander, the symbol of Francois I who had commissioned this extraordinarily grand corridor.The tour ended with the gorgeous Trinity Chapel, an absolute marvel of sculpture and paintings.

In the Gardens:
When our tour ended, we made our way out into the vast courtyards and the formal gardens. Overlooking Le Notre’s parterre, we ate our sandwich lunch and then being badly in need of a nap, we actually stretched out on garden benches for a nap–much to the amusement of a school boy on a field trip who pointed us out to his teacher saying, “Regardez, madame, des gens qui dorment sur les bancs!”(“Look, Madam, there are some people sleeping on the benches!”)  I burst out laughing on hearing this, translated the sentence for Llew’s benefit and startled the poor boy who thought we were fast asleep (we had only just begun to doze!).

We spent the next half hour enjoying the exterior vistas of the chateau while overlooking the quiet parkland and the reflecting pool on which some energetic visitors were rowing a boat. It was an entirely idyllic sight. Much as we would have liked to continue walking in the gardens, we decided instead to conserve our energy for a stroll around the town of Fontainebleu which is very pretty and boasts a beautiful church (The Church of St. Louis). We stopped in for a visit and found ourselves in the midst of a funeral service at which there were exactly six people present! Needless to say, we prayed quietly for a few minutes before leaving the church very discreetly.

Exploring the Town of Fontainebleu:
The town of Fontainebleu was bustling just before the stores closed shop for the day. Since we decided to take the 5. 31 pm train back to Gare de Lyon, we had time to buy some Belgian ice-cream from Jeff de Bruges. We made our way slowly back home, arriving in Paris at about 6. 30 pm. By the time we reached home, it was 7. 00 pm. and we spent a few moments skyping with Chriselle.

Both of us felt that Fontainebleu offered us a fantastic way to compensate for not having made it to the Loire Valley. Our day trip had provided us everything we could desire out of a day trip: a simply splendid chateau on which to feast our eyes and gardens that offered the finest specimens of French formal design together with English country informality.

Off for a Long Bus Ride to see Paris By Night:
After a drink and a snack, we both felt compelled to use the day pass and made up our minds, quite suddenly, to hop on to a bus and ride to the center of the city while there was till plenty of light. We took the tram to Stade Charlety and then got on to the 67 which starts there. For the next hour, we wound through the lovely Parisian landmarks that I pointed out to Llew–from Place d’Italie to the Jardin des Plantes, from the Institute du Monde Arab to the Paris Mosque, from the twin towers of the Cathedral of Notre-Dame to the Palais Royale outside the Louvre. Eventually, we reached Pigalle which was just springing to life.

Berthillon Ice-cream on Isle de St. Louis:
With light fast fading, we hopped on to the same bus for the journey back, decided on impulse to stop off at Isle de St. Louis for more ice-cream–this time it would be Paris’ best, Berthillon. The ice-cream vendors literally line the Rue de St. Louis and we quickly chose our flavors (salted caramel and praline amaretto for me; chocolat noir and rum and raisin for Llew). Then, as we enjoyed our frozen treats, I took Llew on a guided walk to the tip of the island to see the actual Berthillon restaurant. We finished our ice-cream on the ledge watching the swish dinner cruise bateaux-mouche pass us by.And then, we walked back to the bus stop, jumped into a 67 again and reached home about 11. 00 pm.

Marking American Independence Day:When we got home, we found a huge star-spangled banner flying at the entrance of the Fondation des Etats-Unis at the side of the French bleu, blanc, rouge. It was a deeply uplifting sight on American Independence Day and our hearts leapt. A group of American students had gathered down in the courtyard garden just below our window and were barbecuing. We had been invited to join them, but, alas, were much too tired by our day’s excursion to muster up the stamina. Just before we closed shop for the night, we heard a wonderful plaintive rendition on a saxophone of The Star Spangled Banner. At half an hour after midnight, it appeared a tad too late, but then we realized that it was still the Fourth of July in the USA–so the sound of the national anthem was not entirely misplaced. So stirring was the impact that Llew went out into the corridor and applauded the unseen player.

It was an exhausting day and we were both cream crackered by the time we hit our bed.

A demain! 
         

Dallying With Dali and A Walk along Canal St. Martin

Jul4

Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!
Since I had to leave for my NEH session this morning, I suggested to Llew that he spend the morning at the magnificent Musee Jacquemart-Andre which has become one of my favorite places in Paris. I left the house at 9. 15 am for my 10.00 am session on France’s Memorial Laws (created in the wake of the Holocaust denials and the Algerian War) and arranged to meet Llew at the Miromesnil metro station at. 1.45 pm. As our session went on way beyond schedule, I was late by 15 minutes–but Llew waited patiently for me.

Llew Does the Musee Jacquemart-Andre:
It turned out that he adored the museum and was really thrilled that I had sent him off there. In fact, he spent more than two hours in the museum and through the use of the audio guide was able to glean heaps of information about the collection and the owners of the mansion. I was so pleased that his lone venture had been a success. We spent the next hour discussing our new discovery and vowing that we would tell everyone going to Paris that they should not miss this venue for the world!

Glimpsing the Champs-Elysses and Arc de Triomphe:
We found ourselves on Rue de la Boetie where we had stayed with our friends, three summers ago, just off the Champs-Elysses. For old times’ sake and because we had such happy memories of our stay there, we decided to stroll over to take a look at the building. Our friends have since moved to Switzerland and no longer live there, but it was lovely to stroll from there to the Champs-Elysses and watch the world go by. We then walked to Marks and Sparks to buy our friend Sylvia in Canada the Battenburg Cake she has requested (after reading about it in one of my previous blog posts I presume!), but alas, the store was out of it. We will go back and try another time. This detour gave Llew a chance to enjoy the vibrance of the Champs-Elysses and catch a glimpse of the Arc de Triomphe.

Dallying in the Musee Dali:
We then took the metro from the George V station and headed off to Montmartre to see the museum that is called Espace Dali–the reference bring, of course, to the Spanish Surrealist Salvador Dali. Neither one of us had ever visited this museum; so we were very pleased indeed to have the opportunity. We got off at Abbesses and climbed about 250 steps (I am not exaggerating!) to get to the Place de Tertre. The Dali Museum is right off this colorful, busy square with its energetic artists.

 It cost 6 euros each to get in (discounted price for museum guides!). We descended into the basement into a darkened space and then spent the next hour and a half perusing the works. Most of the items on display are sculpture and several series of illustrations that Dali did for a vast number of books. Dali’s most important paintings are in the world’s greatest museums including his Persistence of Memory which is in the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The sculptures draw on the same theme–the elasticity of time as demonstrated by the ‘bendability’ of his clocks. Through Surrealism–the yoking together of unlikely objects and contradictory ideas–Dali presented lobster-handled telephones and dancing pianos adorned with the frilled skirts of cancan showgirls. His genius is evident in the uniqueness of his vision, his imagination and his creativity–so far-fetched are his ideas, in fact, as to seem bizarre; but they influenced scores of his contemporaries and he garnered many disciples. The collection is very clearly curated with just the right amount of explanatory notes to help the viewer make sense of the objects on display. At the end of the day, we left the exhibition thinking, “OK, I get it. I now see what he was trying to do. I think I understand what Surrealism is all about–a going beyond Realism, for in French, it literally means Above Realism”.

Off to Explore the Canal St. Martin:
When we exited the Espace Dali, about two hours later, it was still bright daylight on Montmartre and the crowds hadn’t yet thinned. In fact, most were getting ready for an evening meal. Still full of beans mentally although a tad fatigued physically, we took a long rest in the square of the Bateau-Lavoir further down the hill, then decided to take a long walk in a little-known part of Paris known as the Canal St. Martin.

From the Pigalle metro station–we saw the sails of the Moulin de La Galette as well as the Moulin (mill) of the Moulin Rouge rotate redly in the sunset–before we disappeared down the stairwell as Pigalle came to life. In a short while, we were exiting at Jaures and beginning our walk down the Canal. Who knew that the city of Paris could boast a canal? Well, it does. It stretches in an arrow-straight line punctuated by picturesque iron bridges (similar to Dublin’s Ha’penny Bridge) along an area that was once lined with industrial warehouses but today has apartment buildings galore. Although there is nothing visually appealing about this walk, two things fascinated me: the many ‘locks’ that regulate the water level in the canal (Llew explained to me the principal upon which they work–the ‘doors’ that shut the water out need to be opened and shut by sailors as they pass by in their boats); and the marvelous Hopital de St. Louis, a hospital that dates from the 1600s and which is similar to the Chelsea Royal Hospital in London in that it is spread out over vast acreage, contains colonnaded arcades and has a beautiful chapel in which the inmates worshipped. The architecture completely charmed me and I ended up taking a ton of pictures. We then returned to the Canal to end our walk at the Place de la Republique which is undergoing a major overhaul and will not be ready for the next few years.

Back on the metro we went to get home in time for dinner (melon with smoked ham, ravioli in a tomato cream sauce with haricots vert and figs and ice-cream for dessert). We were completely creamed by the end of the day and spent most of the evening vegetating on the couch while watching tennis at Wimbledon on TV.

Tomorrow we plan to spend the day at Fontainebleu–so we better call it a day!

A demain!

Perusing Parc Monceau & Bercy Village

Jul3

Monday, July 2, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!
Our day began late and I mean really late! By the time we finished breakfast (chocolate brioche with preserves and coffee), I finished blogging and Llew finished checking his email in our computer room on the floor below us, it was about 12 noon. So it was midday by the time we got dressed, hurriedly made sandwiches, carried them with us and decided to have a picnic at Parc Monceau.

DK Eyewitness Guide’s 90 Minute Walk in Parc Moncean would lead us on our way. We took the metro there and found ourselves facing the huge, ornate, gilded gates of the park. As we began the walking tour, we passed by the toll house at the entrance of the park and then a vast variety of sculpture. About eight of these marble pieces that decorate the lawns are French writers or musicians, each featured by a bust with a swooning Muse at the base! Theses stylized 19th century portrayals were de rigeur and form interesting period pieces.

Parc Monceau which lies in the northwestern environs of the city is in the midst of a very affluent quartier and is surrounded by gorgeous mansions built in the Hausmannian tradition.Our walk took us in and out of the park as we perused the side streets, each of which is named after a famous painter (Rue Van Dyck, Rue Murillo, Rue Rembrandt–you get the idea). Fanciful pagodas, Egyptian pyramids, even part of a Greek semicircle of pillars are some of the sculptural ‘follies’ to be found here. We took pictures of many of them, enjoyed the flower beds that were thick with perennial blooms and sat down on a bench in a shady spot to have our lunch as we watched office-goers enter and leave the park for a quick stride-around.

Some of the more interesting elements of the neighborhood were a Chinese pagoda that houses Oriental antiques and a mansion that belonged to a wealthy family of Turkish Jews who made their home in Paris at the end of the 19th century–the Camondos. Their mansion has been turned into a splendid museum which is on my list of places to be visited–the Musee Nissim Camondo. Unfortunately, it is not open on Mondays and Tuesdays, but I am sure we will return to it later in the week.

Just before our walk ended, we found the grand Church of St. Augustin on Place St. Augustin–supposedly the grandest 19th century church in Paris. Again, unfortunately, it is closed on Mondays in July–so we could not enter it. However, the exterior was immensely imposing. Built in the Renaissance style, it is flanked on the left by the Cercle Militaire, an equally grand and superbly sculpted building that houses the French Serviceman’s Club and a sculpture of Joan of Arc riding off to victory on horseback in the front.

Although this wasn’t an especially memorable walk, we were glad we took it as it led us to Parc Monceau which I had wanted to visit. We picked a truly glorious day to spend out in a park for the weather was simply delightful and our afternoon was a very pleasant one.   

A Soiree at Our Director’s Apartment:
No sooner did we get home than I was jumping into the shower to keep our next appointment: an invitation to drinks at the home of our NEH Seminar Director, Joe and wife Nancy.The invitation was intended for drinks between 5.30 and 7.00 pm. But from the time we were ready to step out of the house, everything that could possibly go wrong, did: I had no internet connectivity and was unable to get directions to his place. When we did eventually obtain them, we ended up taking a wrong train by mistake and had to get off and retrace our steps! When we did eventually reach the metro stop, we were unable to find his building and no one around was able to help us. It was just a horrible chain of errors that made me want to turn right back home!

By the time we were ringing the doorbell, it was 6. 45, but Joe and Nancy were welcoming and everyone seemed pleased to see us. Fortunately, folks stayed around for another whole hour, so we did have time to socialize and I was able to introduce Llew to all my new colleagues.

Dinner at Bercy Village:
As it turned out, Llew got to know them better during dinner as many of us made our way downstairs for a meal. Bercy Village, which once upon a time used to house wine warehouses (hence the name of the street, Cour St. Emillion!) has become a snazzy shopping and restaurant arcade with a number of chain eateries as well as more exclusive ones having sprung up there. After much discussion and debate, we went with Les Compagnie de Crepes–a place that made galettes (savory buckwheat crepes) and crepes (usually sweet). We chose the ‘formule‘–a drink, a plat and a dessert for 15 euros and enjoyed our meal and the company of our new friends.

By 10.00 pm, it was time to get back home. We chose to walk to Bercy metro station past the great stadium where Bruce Springsteen will be performing tomorrow night! We rode the metro home with Jen and got back around 10.30. I stayed up till well past midnight catching up on my blog and thinking that we really hadn’t accomplished very much today.

A demain!

Another Free Museum Sunday Rolls Around

Jul3

Sunday, July 1, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!
Its hard to believe a month has passed since I arrived in this incredible City of Light–and Art, and Food, and Fashion, and Scarves, and Perfume! I’ve had a blast (as my blog posts would testify) in the month that has passed. And now the summer is well and truly here in Paris! Happy July to you!

Free Museum Sunday rolled around again and since I have Llew in tow this time, I cracked the whip. Made sure he understood we were waking up to the alarm clock this morning (despite our late night) to race off to the museums to beat the lines.

So although our friends dropped us back to our apartment last night at 2.00 am, we were up at 8. 15 to shower, breakfast, dress and take the RER and the metro to Concorde (after buying ourselves a Mobilis–a metro day pass–for 6. 40 euros each) in order to arrive at the Musee de L’Orangerie at exactly 9. 00 am.


Deja-Vu All Over Again at L’Orangerie:
It felt odd to retrace my footsteps of exactly a month ago, back to Claude Monet’s masterpieces–his Nympheas or Waterlilies at the Musee de l’Orangerie…but I was keen for Llew to see them in the environment that was specially created for their display. He was an absolute sport about the early get-up and totally co-operated with me in trying to see as much as we could while the free day lasted. Unlike the last time, when I had to stand in line for a good 15 minutes waiting for the museum to open, this time–having arrived at 9.05, there was no line at all as everyone had trooped in already. We waltzed right in, saw the superb canvasses, commented on them (it was fantastic to have someone to talk to!) and left, about 20 minutes later. We’re looking forward now to our visit (for the third time) to Monet’s Garden at Giverny when our friend Cynthia joins us from London. We will see the real water lilies then–they were such perfect models!

One Disappointment After the Other:
Our aim was to get to the Musee des Arts Decoratifs (part of the Louvre complex) as soon as we could. And how thrilled we were to find that there was not another soul ahead of us! And then we realized why…it was for a very good reason! The museum did not open until 11. 00 am and so we had a whole hour to kill.The guards suggested we get a cafe and return at 11.00am.

But we had other plans. We hopped back on the metro and hotfooted it to the Centre Georges Pompidour , the Musee de l’Art Moderne (Paris’ Museum of Modern Art, which we had intended to ‘do’ in the afternoon). Well, having arrived there at 10. 30 am, we had another disappointment in store! It, too, opened at 11.00 am. Not to feel completely crushed, I spied an ancient Gothic church in front of me and, leaving Llew in the line (with about 80 people ahead of us), went off with my camera to explore.

The Church of St. Merry:
It turned out to be the Church of St. Merry (short for the original name of St. Meredic), a martyr who has had a church in his name on this site since the 7th century. Built in the flamboyant Gothic style, its most interesting features were its beautifully carved wooden pulpit and its opulent gilded altar. Mass was reaching its conclusion when I got there, so I waited patiently until it ended to take my pictures. Just a few people were gathered close to the altar–making for a very intimate experience in a church which is huge in its dimensions with the soaring Gothic nave and ceiling that are so common in Paris.

Inside the Centre Georges Pompidour:
I joined Llew in the line for the last 5 minutes, during which I read up on the unique building and its collection. I had visited this superb museum in 1987–all of 25 years ago–and I remembered my experience well. I recalled riding in the escalators on the exterior of the building in what looked like giant glass tunnels all the way to the fifth floor and marveling at the manner in which the “metabolism” of the building is visible on the exterior. This Renzo Piano-Richard Rogers’ design was unique for its time and has been much imitated since it was constructed in 1977. Different colors on the pipes that run on the outside of the building represent various functions: heating, electricity, stairways, elevators, escalators, etc. that keep the building operational. Just because the building was so revolutionary for its time and so pivotal in terms of postmodernist architecture, I wanted Llew to see it. In many ways, the concept of turning the building inside out is imitative of the intention of the artists whose works make up the contents of the building.

So we began on the 5th floor with Art from 1905-1960. Brilliantly curated, it took us through the most important artistic movements of the 20th century from Post-Impressionism (Cezanne was a massive influence and could indeed be considered the first great Modernist) to Cubism, to Fauvism, to Dadaism, to Surrealism, to Abstract Expressionism. We were enthralled by the work of Picasso and Braque but also Derain, Leger, Kandinsky, Gorky, Dali, Duchamps, Marc Chagall, Francis Bacon and the sculpture of Giacometti, Picasso and Brancusi. We gave ourselves ample time to see it all, to read and absorb all the curatorial notes that walked us through the history and the influences that impacted the artists and their perspectives. This is an astonishing collection and it is amazingly well laid out–even if it is extensive and very tiring.I could not believe that I had waited 25 years to return!

The bonus is that the top-most floor (the 6th) offers some of the most rivetting views of Paris. I was simply unable to drag myself away from the panoramic 180 degree views of the landmarks and rooftops that comprise this city: from the Eiffel Tower to Notre-Dame, from Sacre Coeur at Montmartre to the Pantheon, from the Opera to the spires of the many churches that I can now recognize so easily (from St. Suplice, to St. Eustache to St. Merry)–this was a treat indeed. Llew and I enjoyed it all thoroughly and took loads of pictures. Luckily, sunshine gilded the grand gold tipped Dome Church and the humblest rooftops and made our perspective a truly happy one.

Lunch at Flunch:
We did not want to spend too much time on a meal–so it was super convenient to find Flunch–part of an inexpensive buffet type meal chain that exists in France–just around the corner. We ate Chicken Curry over Rice and Andouille Sausage over Couscous with ratatouille and haricots vert and cauliflower and when we had rested and felt satiated, we were ready to move on to the next part of the day–a return to the Louvre.

Braving Hordes At the Louvre:
The queue of the morning in which there were easily over a thousand people had diminished considerably by the time we got back to the Louvre at about 2. 30 pm. No matter how often you enter the imposing courtyard of the Palais de Louvre or go below I.M Pei’s glass Pyramid to sample the wares offered by one of the world’s greatest museum collections, you are still awed by what you see. I honestly do believe that the gorgeous exterior decoration of the palace, its vast dimensions, its splendour, contribute the greatest amount to one’s experience of the art works contained within.

We joined the line (about 100 people were ahead of us) and found our way to the two works I absolutely wanted to see–one for the nth time and one for the first time: The Mona Lisa (because you simply cannot enter the Louvre and not see it) and The Death of Horatio by Jacques-Louis David to which Simon Schama in his History of Art series devotes a whole hour.

It was so easy to get sidetracked by the masterpieces we passed en route to the Mona Lisa. There was Paolo Uccelo’s Battle of San Romano (one part of which is at the National Gallery in London); there was Ghirlandaio’s Grandfather and Grandson (one of my favorite portraits of all time); there was Bellini and Botticelli and so many other Italian Masters. But Llew was quick to point out that we ought to stay our course–or else we’d have no time for the Museum of Decorative Arts which was also on our agenda. Well, I dragged myself away and came face-to-face with the Winged Victory of Samotrace (apart from the Venus de Milo, one of the two greatest Hellenic sculptures in the Museum). I adored the porphyr figurines from the Borghese collection–but then again, I reined myself in and we were finally at the most crowded room in the entire museum–the one devoted to Leonardo da Vinci’s La Giaconda or The Mona Lisa.

Elbowing our way to Say Bonjour to Mona:
There were thousands, and I mean thousands, of people in the Louvre today and almost all of them were there to see Mona. Needless to say, the crowd in front of us was at least 7 rows thick. We waited patiently and as the front lines thinned out, inched further to the front until there was only a thin pane of glass that separated us from the lady with the mystic smile. While I am usually always struck by her smallness, this time I found her looking larger than I expected! The mind, eyes and memory do combine to play strange tricks, don’t they?

Well, what is left to say about the Mona Lisa that hasn’t been said before? She intrigues. She teases. She enthralls. She is beloved of the art world and we were bowled over. Enough said. On the way out of the room, we paused to appreciate the huge dimensions of Veronese’ Marriage at Cana. And once again, the contrast between the tiny Mona Lisa and the gigantic Marriage, was not lost on us.If anything, what the contrast in the mass appeal between the two paintings proves is that size does not matter.

David’s Paintings:
We did find David’s works in a section of French paintings that were awesome in their size. Yes, I did find the Horatio and I do realize that I will need to return to the TV series to understand again why Schama picks it out as one of the most significant paintings of all time. Suffice it to say, that it was arresting and indeed one could linger over it forever. Since the monumental canvas of the Coronation of Napoleon, also by David, was just next to it, we spent some time there as well. It was thrilling to recall that, unlike most of his contemporaries, David survived the French Revolution and went on to become the greatest exemplar of French Neo-Classical painting while so many of his patrons were guillotined.

Off to the Musee des Arts Decoratifs:
Then, off we raced to the Museum of Decorative Arts, which happened to be rather conveniently located just next door o the Louvre. It was a relief to get away from the throngs which were absolutely the worst I have ever seen in a museum. Clearly, people wait a whole month if they have to (as I did) to take advantage of the museums’ open-door policy. Within the confines of the Museum of Decorative Arts, order reigned again.

Spread out on four floors, this fabulous museum offers examples of the work of the stylists–the ones who gave Paris its glamour, its taste, its style. Names like Lalique, Daum, Guimart–these were the folks who used glass and crystal, furniture and accessories to dress the interiors of the wealthy. Names like Lanvin, for instance, could afford the services of such designers and it is, therefore, not surprising, that Lanvin’s boudoir and bathroom are both featured in the collection. Lalique’s use of the lost wax method to create sculptural forms through the combination of clear and smoky glass have continued to delight collectors of art glass. We saw countless examples of the work of these artists. Rooms devoted to a depiction of the styles of each century and then each decade of the 20th century are also highlights of this museum as are the Art Nouveau works to be found on the top most floor.

Louis Vuitton and Marc Jacobs Have Their Moments:
The lower floors were devoted to a brilliant special exhibition on the steamer trunks of Louis Vuitton who burst upon Paris’ couture scene in the late 1800s by providing leading fashion houses of the time the opportunity to make their wardrobes portable in the great age of the luxury ocean liner. Thus was born the much-coveted Louis Vuitton handbag of today–an offshoot of those steamer trunks! In fact, the exhibition then moved to a higher floor for a viewing of the creative genius of Marc Jacobs who joined Vuitton in 1997 and has created some of the company’s most iconic bags–the ones with the monogrammed LV worked into the fabric designs. This part of the exhibition was beautifully presented and reminded me a great deal of the blockbuster Alexander McQueen exhibition that had been held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York last year. Although we were well and truly fatigued by this time, the work on display was so compelling that we just could not drag ourselves away from the displays.

Ice-Cream from Berthillon:
Eventually, it struck 5. 45 pm–Museum closing time. We simply had to get out and indeed we had covered all that we could possibly see today! It was time for some serious refreshment. Crossing the Jardin de Tuileries, we found a bus stop that took us along the banks of the Seine to the Ile de La Cite where, at a most convenient stall, we found Berthillon’s superb ice-creams–supposedly the best available in Paris. Since Llew is such an ice-cream lover, I decided he must taste some. Llew and I chose our flavors with difficulty–there were so many and they were all enticing; (Salted Caramel and Mango for me; Salted Caramel and Hazelnut for him) and took our cones to the banks of the Seine. We dangled our feet over the parapets and waved at passing tourists in their bateau-mouches as we relished our frozen treats–they were just fabulous! What fun we had as we enjoyed Paris’ simplest pleasures: Berthillon ice-cream and cool summer breezes that danced all over us.

Back on the RER Home:
We were home within 20 minutes of boarding the RER train from Notre Dame-St. Michel, just in time for me to rustle up dinner as Llew got ready to watch the finals of the Eurocup with Spain and Italy competing. I fried circles of goat cheese and served them over greens, sliced figs, tomatoes and avocado and completed it with a lemon vinaigrette, then made a lemon cream sauce flavored with bacon for the ham-filled tortellini we had for a main course. Paris is certainly bringing out the creative chef in me!

Off to see Paris By Night:
Quite relaxed by the time the sun set at 10. 30 pm, and with the game going nowhere, Llew and I decided to make the best use of the last couple of hours left on our day pass by taking a bus to see Paris by night. I had been awaiting his arrival to tick this intention off my To-Do List and although he was fatigued and sleep-deprived, he did go along with me. It was easy to hop into a tram and then a bus from Porte D’Orleans and ride it all the way to Pigalle and Montmartre and then take the same bus back! What joy it was to spot the landmarks that I now know so well and to admire them bathed in the soft gilding and shadows of electric lights. I do feel very strongly now that we should take the dinner-cruise on the bateau-mouche and enjoy the monuments up close and personal by moonlight.

By midnight, we were back home to tumble exhausted into bed while marvelling at the fruitful day we’d had. Truly, tomorrow we shall have a long lie-in.

A demain!

Seeking the Phantom (of the Opera) and Delights of Degustation

Jul3

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Paris, France

Bonjour!
I am getting accustomed to later get-ups with Llew around as Le Lag du Jet keeps him fast asleep till well past 9.00 am. This also explains why I have less time to devote to my blog and have a backlog (or back-blog!). Still, with chocolate brioche, preserves, pain aux noix and good coffee inside us, we set out to say hello to the Phantom and to discover on foot the neighborhood known as Opera. Our guide was the walk in DK Eyewitness Guide to Paris.

The Opera Garnier:
One metro ride later, we were getting out of the underground stairwell to stare straight ahead at the front facade of the Opera Garnier, one of Paris’ greatest landmarks and most ornate buildings–designed and built by Charles Garnier who actually has a huge sculpture honoring him in front of one of the many entrances. When we finished feasting our eyes on the splendour before us, we circumnavigated the building–for the uniqueness of the Opera Garnier lies in the fact that it is differently conceived and designed from each angle. Hence, as one walks around the place, one sees a variety of classical styles. There are Baroque statuettes who hold up lamps and they too are exquisite. There are massive gilded sculptures on the very roofs and they are breathtaking. There are the domes that Edmund White calls “giant ink pots” in a verdigris that are well hidden from some angles but suddenly emerge from others to delight. And this is only the exterior! We could not even imagine how sumptuous the inside must be.

Guided tours run at 9 euros per head and last one hour. We preferred to stay outside to discover the neighborhood although I must say it was intriguing to know that there is a man made lake in the basement of the Opera House that inspired Paul Leroux’s novel The Phantom of the Opera–which, in turn, gave birth to Andrew Lloyd-Weber’s brilliant opera (still my very favorite of his works). Had the tour included a visit to the lake, I might have succumbed to the temptation–but it is restricted to the lobby, balcony and the auditorium–which made it less attractive. Apparently, the lake is used today for training Paris’ fire-fighters! Interestingly, operas are no longer performed in this space which opened in 1875. These have moved to the new Opera House (sometimes known as Opera Bastille–a round glass building that now dominates the Place de la Bastille). However, ballet performances are still on here. Suffice it to say that no trip to Paris would be complete without surveying the grandeur of this building and it is no surprise that after the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, it is the most popular monument visited.

Off to Galleries Lafayette:
Hard to believe, isn’t it, that I have spent more than a month in Paris and have not yet set foot into Galleries Lafayette, its most iconic mall? Well, shopping is not really my thing–although admiring the buildings in which shoppers’ delight is my passion. So it was really to show Llew the grand glass dome of the main building of Galleries Lafayette that we entered. If you think the Opera Garnier is sumptuous, well, wait till you see the main hall–devoted today to the sale of perfumes and cosmetics. I was looking for soap and so we walked from one section to the next, spritzing ourselves liberally from the varied offerings at the counters. In the Food Hall (somewhat reminiscent, although not as opulent, as Harrods in London), we were amazed at the small hills of pink and lemon and mauve salt from different seas of the world, perfumed by the edition of dried roses and lavender! There were piles of spices and mountains of teas. There were macarons and there were gateaux. There were meats and cheeses and fruits de mer. Everything was so enticingly displayed. Llew and I had such a great time just taking in the eye-candy! Occasionally, we were offered nibbles for degustation: tapenade or olive paste, vinegars flavored with mango and another with figs. How delicious it all was! Every one of our senses were stirred by this gastronomic paradise. The worst part were the crowds–so many people seemed to have descended from Japan and Korea to buy up GL’s wares. We were the only ones who hung on tightly to our purse-strings!

Musee Fragonard:
Then, we continued on our walking tour and what do you think we came upon? But the Musee Fragonard: a veritable Ali Baba’s cave of Perfumes which contain one of my favorite perfumes of all time: Freesia by Fragonard. As the name indicates, the company was launched in the late 19th century and was named after the French 18th century painter Fragonard. No mall in the world stocks Fragonard’s perfumes which are so exclusive that you can only buy them in Paris or in Grasse on the Cote d’Azur in the South of France where the flowers are grown, the essential oils distilled and the products made and packaged. And, now of course, on the Internet.

We joined the half hour long guided tour in English that took us into the Mansion Fragonard, an 18th century confection of painted ceilings, heavy satin drapes and vitrines containing perfume accoutrements: from the most intricately cut crystal bottles to the variety of labels produced over the centuries to decorate them. It was just a fantastic romp into a world of beauty and luxury in which we became acquainted with the perfumier’s nez (nose) and the fact that he can only work for a maximum of 20 years and, throughout his life, must abstain from eating meat, drinking alcohol or smoking–all to preserve the integrity of his nose!!! Imagine living in Paris and not being able to drink wine!

At the end of the tour in which we were taken through the stages of perfume distilling and bottling, we were led down to the boutique where we were gently prodded to buy by offers of good discounts on the perfume. I was keen to replenish my own stock of Freesia and was quite delighted indeed to find sampler sets of six floral perfumes that I bought so as to acquaint myself with some new scents. There were also soaps! Enfin! I found what I had been seeking at GL. Laden with our supplies, we walked out of the store just thrilled at the fact that I had ticked one more item off my To-Do List: A Visit to Musee Fragonard!

Off to the Church of La Madeleine:
By 3. 00 pm, we had arrived at another monumental Parisian building and Napoleon’s great ecclesiastical showpiece, built for the glory of his army: the Church of St. Mary Magdalen which is known quite simply in Paris as La Madeleine! It is a Neo-Classical Temple with countless Corinthian pillars running all around the four rectangular sides. In the center in the frieze on the pediment (much in the style of the Acropolis) is a wonderful depiction of Christ in Glory surrounded by the Heavenly hosts. He looks down upon the marvels of 18th century architecture created by Baron Haussman under the commission of Napoleon himself. No wonder then that the most important road in this area is called Boulevard Hausmann.

Sitting on the steps of La Madeleine and facing the Place de la Concorde, we ate our sandwich lunch–delicious ham and brie sandwiches which we finished off with Cote D’Or chocolate. Replete, we entered the church to make a prayerful visit. Inside, the church was very dimply lit. Its altar which is filled with beautiful marble sculpture of Mary flanked by two angels is show stopping. The classical construction continues within with friezes on the ceiling and many niches to house more religious sculpture. When we entered, we found a large choir in rehearsal at the altar. We soon discovered that they were the Laurenorkistra and had arrived from Oslo in Norway to give concerts in France, Their own concert was scheduled for 4.00 pm. Since their rehearsal sounded so pleasing, we decided to come back to the church at 4.00 pm to listen to them.

Sampling The Epicurean Delights of Paris:
So off to went to discover more epicurean pleasures in the area which is known for two things: Headquarters of Parisian banking (three French banks are based here) and hedonistic pursuits in the form of sophisticated eating. Little wonder that we made a bee-line for Hediard, a shop made distinctive by its orange and black striped awning. Inside, we were offered samples of lovely refreshing fruity iced tea (Melange de Maison) and spreads for canapes. We did the rounds of the store before exiting and making our way to the shop next door: Marriage Freres, the Temple to Tea. Inside, its museum-like decor includes a multitude of teapots of all shapes and sizes from varied parts of the globe. We made a purchase here: black boite of Marco Polo Rouge: a very well scented tea that reminded me of a fruit orchard. Next stop was Fauchon where we admired the spectacularly decorated gateaux in the glass vitrines and the abundance of chocolates everywhere. Here is to be found every possible kind of mustard and foie gras, coffee and tea (we sampled another little thimbleful here), jams and preserves and madelienes–but of course they would be present in a store that is only steps away from the house in which Marcel Proust lived and wrote his wonderful memories stirred by the first bite of a Madeleine.

It had turned out to be a day devoted to the sampling of all things luxurious–from perfume to chocolate although we had not really intended it to be.

A Free Concert by a Norwegian Choir:
At 4.00pm, we took our seats in La Madeleine again, delighted to find that a considerable crowd had gathered for the concert. In a rare move that included both adults and children in the choir, we found a very large gathering of singers clustered on the altar. They sang beautifully in many different languages from Norwegian, English, French and Latin. Dressed in their traditional Norwegian attire, they made a very homogeneous but colorful group under the direction of a conductor well turned out in a tuxedo. The concert ended with a rendition of their national anthem which we recognized from the fact that the Norwegians in the audience sprang to their feet as soon as they heard the first few bars–making the rest of us follow suit.

Off to discover Rue Royal:
The concert ended at exactly 5.00 pm and with Mass not beginning until 6.00 pm, we had an hour to kill. Knowing that we will be combing the museums of Paris tomorrow (free Museum Sunday), we wanted to hear Saturday evening mass before going on to the next part of our program: dinner at the home of our friends Joyce and Lester in Chamborcy.

So how better to kill time than to roam along the Rue Royal (the name says it all) to catch a glimpse of a world of more luxury and splendor—this time in the form of man made items for the person and the home: silver at Christofle, crystal at Baccarat, glass at Lalique, porcelain at Bernardaud, more glass at Daum. Indeed, the very names whose designs and products we had been seeing in all the museums were available for the discerning consumer with the heavy wallet. We had such a great time in these galleries as we window-shopped.

On past Maxim’s we went—the exclusive Parisian restaurant with the red and gold packaged products—on to the Place de la Concorde where I gave Llew a bit of history about the site of the infamous guillotine. On our way back to the church, we made one more stop—this time at the other exclusive tea room, Laduree, to pick up more Melange de Maison (another personal favorite) and then it was time to re-enter the church for Mass.

Mass at La Madeleine:
Mass, of course, was in French, but the pamphlets distributed at the beginning included translations in English, German and Spanish. It was wonderfully international as the petitions were also read out by a number of attendees in several different languages. It was a bit long though and 45 minutes later, right after Communion, we left as we had the metro to catch and another appointment to keep.

Dinner at Chamborcy with New Friends:
We’d been delighted when our new Paris friends, Joyce and Lester, originally from Karachi, had invited us to dinner at their place in Chamborcy, not too far from Versailles. When I had visited them for dinner last week, I had taken the commuter train. This time, since the invitation included several other folks, Joyce arranged for us to be picked up from our building by a couple named Anil and Deepa who live at Bastille and were also headed their way.

Although it was a very tight arrangement time-wise, we were ready for them when they arrived in their Mercedes to take us off in style to Chamborcy along the Peripherique. Traffic snarls kept us slow; but about an hour later, we were being welcomed warmly to our friends’ home in the country. Since the evening was so perfect, the group went straight into the garden for hors d’oeuvres: mushroom dip with crackers, olives, cheese. We met a large number of people as we circulated over champagne: Ashok and Anu, Jess and Regis, Mona and Sunil, Jean-Francois. Lester was kept busy barbecuing sardines that arrived fresh off the grill to our plates. Conversation was in French and English as our group included folks from India, Pakistan and France. As the evening lengthened, we sat down to dinner: Joyce’s Signature Fish with a Mushroom Sauce, Rice with Lamb Curry, Ratatouille, Aubergine slices stuffed with tomato, cheese and peas. Our friends had taken so much time and trouble to put on a grand party and it was fun all the way. Dessert was served indoors: Joyce’s homemade Carrot Cake with Fresh Strawberries served with Mint and a plate full of macarons. Boy, were we spoiled for choice!

By the end of the evening, with the clock showing well past midnight, we adjourned to the living room. Lester brought out his guitar and we had a jolly singsong with Beatles hits and Eagles favorites and John Denver oldies. Lester did a fine job providing accompaniment as we tried to remember the long-forgotten lyrics of so many songs from our lost youth! It was after 1.00 am when we finally decided to call it a day.

Anil and Deepa dropped us back home at about 2.00 am and since we were deeply fatigued by our fabulous day, we dropped off immediately. Tomorrow is Free Museum Sunday in Paris and we intend to take full advantage of the rare open door policy.

A demain!

Footloose in Montmartre & the Museum of Romantic Life

Jun29

Friday, June 29, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!

Did you know that there actually exists in Paris a street called Rue de Putterie (Street of Prostitution)? Did you realize that the can can dance was the most daring form of eroticism in 19th century France although it was performed by women wearing full-length gowns?

But, as usual, I am getting ahead of myself in wanting to share all the discoveries we made on our walk around Pigalle and Montmartre today. So let me begin at the beginning…

I awoke to the coolness of a summer breeze tugging at the curtains at our bedroom window. The temperature had changed dramatically and the heat and humidity of last night were just a bad memory. Realizing that Llew is still jetlagged, I closed the windows, pulled the curtains down to bring darkness back into the room and left so as not to disturb him. I caught up with email and got breakfast organized by the time my new friend Joyce called to invite us to her place in Chamborcy for dinner tomorrow. I accepted with delight and we made plans for her to get one of her Paris-based friends to pick and drop us back. How kind of her! Vraiment tres gentile!

Llew awoke to the sound of the telephone ringing and actually joined me for breakfast: we ate fromage blanc (literally white cheese, but really a thickish plain yogurt, like Greek yogurt) with Jordan’s muesli, then Poilane’s Pain Aux Noix with Fig Jam and Praline Spread. I love these Continental preserves and wish I could taste a lot more of them before we leave from here. Coffee went down a treat before I left Llew to get ready and went across to Thomas at the office to get something urgent printed, scanned and emailed.

Alas, the office does not have a scanner; but the lady there was kind enough to print my stuff. I signed it and decided to put it in snail mail to NYU in New York, which meant we’d need to find a poste (post office). By the time I returned to my apartment, Llew was ready to leave and off we went.

Exploring The Museum of Romantic Life:
The RER train took us to Gare Du Nord from where we intended to take Line 2 to Blanche. But that’s when our journey went awry. The 2 no longer stops at Gare du Nord–so we had to take the 4 for one station (Barbes) where we discovered that a train had broken down. All of humanity seemed to spill out of the disabled train and on to the platform. When the replacement train arrived, that same humanity fought to get in–it was packed to capacity as it pulled out. Fortunately, we traveled in it for just 2 stations. With relief, we got off at Blanche and made our way to Rue Chaptal to the Musee de la Vie Romantique (the Museum of Romantic Life) which was a recommendation of my NEH colleague Noit who teaches Art History at Tufts University.

The museum was a good 10 minutes’ walk away (and probably closer to Pigalle metro station than Blanche).  Entry to it is free and we were very pleased indeed to lose ourselves in a 19th century home in which normally-endowed (meaning middle-class) people lived (as opposed to the over-the-top opulent mansion-museums that I have been exploring over the past few weeks). You enter the main door through a delightful cobbled courtyard garden that was simply full of tall colorful hollyhocks, roses and other profuse summer blooms. In the little garden at the side is a tea room and restaurant whose focal point is a glass conservatory. The museum complex consists of two more buildings where special art exhibitions are held (for which there is an extra charge).

The home belonged to the artist Ary Scheffer who was born in Holland but together with his brothers (Les Trois Freres after which another road is named), made Paris his home. Through their impressive aristocratic connections and marriages, the family was related to Aurore de Saxe (who is better known in literary history as the French writer and painter, George Sand). She took on the pen name in order to be able to share her revolutionary ideas without the censure which, in that epoch, was reserved for women (in the same way that the English writer Mary Ann Evans took on the pen name George Eliot during the same era). George Sand became romantically involved with the classical French composer, Chopin (who was born Polish but made France his home). Together, they created a domestic environment in which artists, thinkers, writers, poets and musicians shared their ideas, thoughts and creative energy.

The first floor of the museum is devoted to the memorabilia collected by George Sand: personal pieces of jewelery gifted to her that she wore all her life, snuff boxes (of her royal relations that she inherited), hair ornaments, etc. there are busts and plaster casts of faces and hands, some sculpture and a few paintings by friends and colleagues of Scheffer. It is a lovely capsule of 19th century life embodied by the pursuit of all things romantic, meaning heartfelt. The best part of exploring this floor was listening to the piano compositions of Chopin that followed us around as we moved–a truly charming touch.

On the second floor were a large number of portraits by Scheffer who had received commissions from members of the European royal families such as the Portuguese who were familiar with his work. They are lovely, subtle, very pleasing representations of aristocratic women in formal garb and they present a very intimate sense of life at the end of the 19th century. Although the museum is very small, it is deeply absorbing and certainly worth a visit. For devotees of Chopin and George Sand, it is a great place of pilgrimage. For me, the most interesting part of the visit was learning that apart from being a novelist and memoirist, Sand was a talented and passionate artist herself. The large number of water colors on which she experimented  is a wonderful testimony to the varied artistic streams of creativity she pursued during her lifetime and her deep committment to them.

Footloose and Fancy Free in Montmartre:
Leaving the Museum behind us, we found our way to Pigalle metro station to begin our exploration on foot of a quartier that is rich in findings for anyone interested in probing beaneath the touristic surface of Paris to find concealed gems. Pigalle and Montmatre have historically been associated with two things: Sex and Art (and remotely, a third–Religion; for the martyr St. Denis had his head chopped off here and walked with it to a nearby fountain where he washed it!).

We used DK Eyewitness Guide’s ’90 Minute Walk in Montmartre’ to get us started and I should tell you that when we finished, it was four hours later! The walk took us mainly to the homes of the renowned artists of the Impressionist and Post-Impressionst era who, in those days, had barely two sou to rub together and could, therefore, only live outside the city limits of Paris. Montmartre was separated from the city of Paris by a wall that ran all around it. Those residing outside the wall paid no tax and since the artists were of the proverbial starving variety, Montmartre was the only place within nodding distance of Paris that they could afford.

Suffused with the Spirit of Toulouse-Lautrec:
Hence, we stared our walk at a spot where most of the cabarets, musical revues and dancing halls were located. And if there are provocative dancing girls and music, prostitituion cannot be far behind. So, these joints blossomed into the city’s red-light district. But for the fact that celebrated artists such as Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec were fascinated by the women who entertained at these places and the men who owned the clubs and directed their acts, Pigalle would have remained just another sleazy part of a chic European city. But Toulouse-Lautrec immortalized these characters in the poster art he produced in which they were presented not just as provocative but happy, their fur flying but never in anger. Today most of those halls have been converted into movie theaters or cheap cabaret clubs offering peep shows and kinky sex to please voyeurs. It was among these that we found the building with the ornate exterior in which Van Gogh had once lived with his brother Theo on Rue Victor Masse. We also saw the original facades of the buildings in which Le Chat Noir was composed and presented–an event that gave rise to Toulouse-Lautrec’s most famous portrait of a black cat!

The Village of Montmartre:
On this walk there were steep hills to climb and cobble stones to stumble over. We couldn’t hurry: there was too much to see and savor. Once you leave Pigalle behind and start ascending the narrow stairways cut into the Butte (hill) towards Montmartre (literally the Mountain of Martyrs), you have also left the solidity and grandeur of Paris behind and entered the world of a little village. The streets get narrower and more charming, the French windows open out on to balconies spilling over with window boxes, there are original gas lights around every corner–this area is similar to Hampstead in London. It oozes with charm. It simply forces you to slacken your pace and look about you with eager, observant eyes at every architectural detail.

We arrived at Place Abbess (once actually the site of an Abbey) with its lovely Hector Guimard-designed Art Nouveau Metropolitan entrance with its full glass canopy (what a pity that these are fast diappearing) and its large and very gaudy carousel. We had our home made sandwich lunches in this busy square, enjoying the deliciousness of brie and smoked salmon in crusty baguettes and thinking how great they tasted and wondering why sandwiches do not taste as good anywhere else.

 We entered the Church of St. Jean the Evangelist with its typically Byzantine brick exterior and very unusual interior decoration (which actually made me wonder whether it was a Catholic church at all). On a neighboring side street, we saw the home in which the Pointillist artist Georges Seurat lived. Not too far away is the Bateau-Lavoir, a sort of community atelier where a number of struggling artists produced their work in circumstances of horrible deprivation (among them Picasso and Vuillard).

And then we were at the famous Place du Tertre, perhaps Paris’ most tourist-frequented venue outside of the Eiffel Tower. We recalled La Mere Catherine, the restaurant in which Llew and I have eaten many a pleasant meal on visits past in a venue once frequented by Russian sailors who demanded that their plats be brought to the table, “Bistro, Bistro” (Quickly! Quickly”) And thus was born the name of the small French eatery which provides inexpensive meals! (Or so the story goes). We saw the many cartoonists drawing representations of eager visitors (we had once had our portraits drawn too with the same enthusiasm). This part of our walk was crowded but we thrive on the energy of fellow-travelers and we loved every minute.

Inside the Church of Sacre-Coeur:
A few steps away were steps leading to the city’s second most dominant feature: the domes of the Church of Sacred-Coeur de Montmatre. It is simply a brilliant concoction of towers, turrets, domes, equestrian statues (of Joan of Art and St. Louis) in light grey that overlooks the sharply etched steps that go down the Butte. And its steps offer stunning views of the entire city of Paris which I now know well enough to be able to point out its landmarks: Here is the Pantheon, there the Church of St. Suplice and at the right is the unmistakeable gold of Dome Church at Les Invalides. At night, Montmatre must have a magical appearance as, I am certain, the gas lights must cast romantic shadows everywhere. (Note to Self: Make a trip to Montmatre after night has fallen on the city).

Inside, the church is dominated by a Byzantine mosaic of Christ that overlooks the large number of visitors. There are other interesting features to make a detailed study of the chapels worthwhile. We, however, did not linger too long.

Cabaret Halls Galore:
Leaving the church behind, we continued down the hill to see the only remaining vineyard on Montnartre at a corner where another landmark makes its presence felt: the Lapin Agile, another cabaret house which still presents performances. Picasso and other artists used to hang out here–which led the actor Steve Martin to write a play very recently entitled Picasso at the Lapin Agile. And then we walked further down to arrive at the famed Moulin de la Galette, made immortal by Renoir in his paintings of the venue (to be seen at the Musee d’Orsay). The venue, still a very chic restaurant, gets its name from the many mills in the area that used to grind wheat and grapes for wine–hence, moulin which is French for windmill.

As we neared the end of our walk, we saw the home of Dadaist artists and members of the Cubist movement and finally we reached the end of Rue Lepic where Van Gogh and brother Theo had lived in yet another building. What is remarkable is that so little has changed about these buildings (at least from the outside), that one seems to be walking in another century. While at the door, one expects Vincent to walk out, smoking his pipe, his ear in a crummy bandage for he cut it off when one of the prostitutes of Pigalle snubbed his overtures!

Our walk reached its conclusion at the infamous Moulin Rouge–literally, the red windmill which sports its original 19th century sails. Of course, reveus are still performed here today and the ambience is not too different from that presented by Baz Lurhman in his film of the same name starring Nicole Kidman.

Yes, our walk did take four whole hours and we were very tired at the end of it. We decided to take the metro back home and get some errands done (phone to be topped up, baguette to be bought for dinner, etc) On our way from the stores, we walked through the second half of Cite-Universitaire that we had not explored before and saw many more interesting buildings representing a number of countries. Llew thought it was a simply brilliant concept and again, we remarked on how fortunate I am to make such a place my home for such a protracted length of time.

Dinner a Deux:
It was time to rustle up a salad with tomatoes, mozarella, lettuce and balsamic vinaigrette, ham-stuffed tortelline in a tomato cream sauce with hazelnut-chocolate mousse for dessert–all of which were just delicious. Llew was glued to the TV watching Wimbledon matches while I busied myself with chores (laundry, downloading pictures, etc.) before showering and going to bed.

Llew remarked that it was an amazingly enlightening day. And I told him that all my days in Paris have been identical. It is my greatest joy to scratch beneath the tourist surface and uncover the secrets that cities hide so deeply. Long may such foraging continue!

A demain!       
                          

NEH Session, Musee Marmottan Monet & NYU–Paris

Jun28

Thursday, June 278, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!
NEH Session on Algerian Films:
I left poor jetlagged Llew still in bed this morning as I crept out quietly for my NEH session. I made sure that I had breakfast (croissants and Poilane’s Pain Aux Noix)  and coffee all lined up for him as he has yet to feel his way around the kitchen in my apartment. We’d made plans to reunite at the Fontaine St. Michel at 1. 45pm when my NEH session would be done and we could spend the afternoon together.

Our second session with Malika Rahal was an analysis of the two films we had watched on Tuesday: Indigenes and Hors la Loi. As expected, it made for a vigorous exchange of ideas and the posing of several questions. Indeed the films lent themselves to a great deal of discussion and we covered a whole lot of ground from the historical inaccuracies that most historians are quick to point out when a really important film catches the public imagination to the grassroots reaction of contemporary Algerians in France today to films such a these. I found time fly by as we benefited from Rahal’s wide research on the topic as well as first-hand field work in Algeria–not to mention her bi-racial heritage which, I do believe, offers her beneficial perspectives on the many controversies that are sweeping the nation.

At 12.45pm, our session ended and I rushed off to keep my appointment with Llew. I had suggested he take the RER train to Notre-Dame St. Michel and spend the morning on the Ile de la Cite, perhaps visiting the Cathedral of Notre-Dame, the picturesque streets surrounding it and the little garden at the back. Llew managed to do all this and spied something I had missed: the Pont de L’Archeveche which, he explained, was affixed with hundreds of locks left behind by visitors as a token of their friendship or love for someone. I hadn’t crossed that bridge on foot, so had never come across this unique Parisian feature.

A Walk around the Latin Quarter:
Since we were in the neighborhood, I then led him to the Musee de Moyen Age and the Thermes Cluny where, just as I had done, two weeks ago, he surveyed the magnificent Gothic mansion then sat in the garden opposite it and munched on the baguette sandwich that I had fixed him before I left him this morning. He also wanted to go out in search of a certain street which apparently had a huge sale of English books but despite walking up and down past the Sorbonne and the Pantheon, we were simply unable to locate the street and gave up in sheer frustration.

Off to see the Musee Marmottan Monet:
Jumping into the RER (C) train, we arrived (after a protracted journey during which we took a train going to another destination than the one we wanted) and arrived at the edge of the Bois de Bologne at about 4. 30 pm where the Musee Marmottan Monet is located. We were not worried by the lateness of the hour as we knew that the museum has late-evening opening (up to 9.00pm ) every Thursday. We felt that we could enjoy the supreme collection of Impressionist canvasses at our leisure. It was a long walk from the Bougainvilliers stations and it happened to be a hot and excruciatingly humid day–easily the worst, weather-wise, that I can remember since I arrived here. The walk to the museum not only exhausted us but dehydrated us as well as we had finished all our water supplies earlier in the afternoon. The Paris metro system also gets unbearable on summer days as the cars are not air-conditioned and they do not even have fans! It is unimaginable!

Well, there were worse challenges in store for us as we discovered. upon finally reaching the museum. There was a soiree in the evening and the museum would, therefore, be closing at 6.00 pm! I wanted to strangle the staff at the ticket counter. This would leave us a little more than an hour to see the collection. Of course, in my case, entry is always free (thanks to my Met ID) but Llew was expected to pay full price (10 euros) until I pointed out to the staff that it was unfair. They then offered him the discounted price of 5 euros!

A Fascinating Retrospective on Berthe Morrisot:
This meant that we raced to the basement to see the retrospective on the work of Berthe Morrisot, a female French Impressionist who worked very closely with the biggest contemporary names in the field as she was married to Eugene Manet, the brother of the famed painter Eduoard Manet. The exhibition opened with an exquisite portrait of Berthe by Edouard Manet and contained a vast collection of her work depicting family members closest to her (there were loads of portraits of her daughter Julie seen throughout her growing years), of her husband Eugene, of the homes they lived in, the vacations they took, walks through the neighboring Bois de Boulogne, etc. It was charming, it was delightful, it was well worth that fatiguing trek through the heat to feast our eyes on the works of a woman whose mother had the foresight to send her for art classes when she was a child so that she eventually ended up at the Academie de Beaux-Arts to learn painting formally from the best instructors of the time. What a lovely education! And what a fabulous legacy she has left behind! Ironically enough, the canvas that I thought was by far the best had traveled to Paris from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York!

The Grand Maison Marmottan:
We then made our way to the upper floors to take in the splendour of one of Paris’ most glorious hotels particulier (private manions). Belonging to Jules Marmottan, it is decorated and furnished in French First Empire style with classical furniture and accessories (I really did covet the many fine examples of ‘Paris porcelain’) . The walls, ceiling and floors are simply stunning in their visual decoration. As we moved from one room to the next, we were treated to the splendor also of Impressionist paintings in the vast collection of Monet canvasses as well as key works by lesser Impressionist artists such as George Caillebotte. Sisley, Pisarro and Renoir who are also well represented in this collection. In fact, this museum contains the largest collection of works by Monet seen anywhere.

An unexpected find was the superb collection of Medieval and Renaissance mansucripts that are contained in one large dimly-lit gallery. These, too, were marvelous in their miniature detail. Overall, despite the fact that we had to hurry, the collection is small enough that we could see it all without feeling pressed for time. Of course, had we the luxury of more time, we would have lingered longer over the curatorial details, but although unable to do indulge, we did feel as if we did justice to the greatness of the works on display.

A Visit to NYU-Paris:
Realizing that we were not far at all from Rue de Passy, we decided to walk along to NYU’s campus in Paris, which we had last visited three years ago. This time, we found the street packed with late-evening shoppers who brought a liveliness to the quartier that we hadn’t noticed before. We entered the great portal that opens into the vast campus buildings hidden behind. They comprise a variety of architectural styles from Hausmann-type buildings with ornamental balconies attached to French windows and red brick buildings that remind me of the English Tudor style. In-between the buildings, there are lushly-planted gardens where–no surprize here–there was a garden party on with American students feasting on cheese and pizza! I walked freely among the series of buildings to take in the classroom and dorm room space and to get a sense of campus life here at our NYU premises in Paris. I thought of all my colleagues who, at some time or the other, have taught in these spaces and I tried to imagine myself teaching and working in this venue. It was a not altogether unattractive prospect! After taking a few pictures of the campus, we left through the wide portals and got out into the street.

Dinner Chez Nous:
At a local Monoprix, we bought a few groceries, then caught the metro from Passy, made a change at Denfert-Rochereau and were home in about 20 minutes. The two of us were simply drained by our exertions undertaken in unenviable climatic conditions. We certainly hope it will be cooler tomorrow. I jumped straight into the shower as I badly needed to cool off, then cooled off some more with an ice-cold shandy. We sipped our drinks before I put together a typically French, no-cook dinner for this sweltering day: proscuitto and melon for an entree, Quiche Lorraine with a green salad slicked only with a balsamic dressing for a plat and ice-cream for Llew and a lemon-lime yogurt for me for dessert. By the end of the evening, we had opened up every single window in our apartment and were looking for cross-ventilation to cool the rooms.

Llew spent most of the evening switching between the UEFA Football matches and the Wimbledon tennis ones while I pottered with my laptop trying to find worthwhile pursuits for tomorrow. We had tried to rent a car to drive to the Loire Valley but find that we are unable to get one at this 11th hour. Instead we shall stay and make the most of our time right here in Paris and tomorrow, our aim is to get out to Montmartre to take a 90-minute stroll in the area before exploring Le Musee de la Vie Romantique.

A demain!