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!
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Another Free Museum Sunday Rolls Around
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!
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
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!
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!
Friday, June 29, 2012
Footloose in Montmartre & the Museum of Romantic Life
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!
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!
Thursday, June 28, 2012
NEH Session, Musee Marmottan Monet & NYU--Paris
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!
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!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Bienvenue en France, Llew
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
After a fairly sleepless night, I overslept and awoke only at 7. 45 am realizing that I had to shower and shampoo and clean my apartment before I left for Charles de Gaulle airport to pick Llew up. I had never taken the metro to the airport so was surprized by the cost (almost 10 euros each way and no discounts for round trip!) and the length of the journey--it took almost an hour. Fortunately, I had left well in time and by 11. 30 am I was at the right American Airlines terminal on the Arrivals level on schedule--only to discover that he flight had been delayed and was expected at 12. 15 pm. Merde!
Fortunately, I had taken a book and found myself a great seat at Cafe Ritaaz where, propped with a cafe, I awaited his arrival. In due time, Llew made an appearance. He looked tired, sleep-deprived and dissatisfied--all of which, he told me, were true, as it had been an awful flight (old aircraft, cramped seating, terrible food). He braved the long metro ride back to my apartment and although I expected him to take a nap (we reached home at 2. 00 pm), he thought he would wait it out for fear of not falling asleep at night. He welcomed the cuppa I made him, followed very quickly by a very late lunch: salad, quich lorraine and fresh apricots for dessert.
Exploring Cite-Universitaire:
I thought it made sense to take Llew out on a walk around the neighborhood and we started with Cite-Universitaire, the international student community in which I have been ensconsed for the past month. I had saved an exploration of the area for Llew's arrival and it was fun indeed to take the tour with him. We found a map at the main lobby of the Maison Internationale where we discovered the very inexpensively priced student cafetaria and the nicer restaurant.
Using the map to guide us, we made our way around the extensive park-like lawns that comprise this complex. We walked from one building to the next taking in the architectural and sculptural elements from the Casa de Mexico to the La Corbusier-designed Maison de Suisse, from the collonnaded portico of the Maison d'Italie to the much plainer but very interesting Maison de l'Inde which, naturally, I had to explore. Large portraits of Rabindranath Tagore (India's Nobel Literature Laureate--1913) with France's Nobel Literature Laureate, Romaine Rollande--1916, decorated the lobby with a sculpture of Gandhi and more ancient ones from the Sun Temple at Konarak. We also saw the Maison de Maroc and the Spanish and Danish and Norwegian ones before we crossed the street to get to the Marche Franprix to buy groceries for the week.
It was great to pick out food we could try together from a packaged chocolate brioche to a new creamy chevre, from Leffe beer (for me) to new bottles of Bordeau and Cabernet Sauvignon for him. Weighed down by our purchases, we walked briskly home, stashed our goodies and had a cup of tea with Battenburg cake and French macarons and palmiers (the crisp puff pastries cookies with the sweet and delicious glaze).
Exploring Parc Montsouris:
The other thing I had kept to do when Llew arrived was to explore together the Parc Montsouris which lies right across the street from my building. It is a 117 hectare park at the outer edge of the city, the brainchild of Napoleon and his chief architect Baron Hausmann who wished to provide the city with lungs. Based on the style of an English garden, the park turned out to be an absolute delight and Llew and I loved every second of our walk around its green and fragrant environs.
There were beautiful peach roses clinging to the picket fences and spilling over on to the RER train platforms below. There was a vast lake filled with all sorts of mallards, ducks, geese and even swans--both graceful white and the rarer black ones. There was loads of classical sculpture surrounded by beds full of lavender and catmint. There were railings that looked as if they were made of tree trunks--but they turned out to be artificial stone logs instead--so realistically constructed as to be fool-proof. We found ourselves a bench by the lakeside and had a long sit-down and caught up on all the important news of the past few weeks. I discovered that the gold-plated sculpture that I spy from my bathroom window each morning when I first wake up and begin to brush my teeth is not Mozart but the AmericanThomas Paine whose writings on Liberty and the Rights of Man impacted the French Revolution. It is amazing what discoveries one can make on a short walk in the neighborhood!
Llew loves my apartment and thinks I am very lucky indeed to have found it. While he spent the evening at the telly watching Eurosport 2012 (the football match was between Portugual and Spain and Portugal lost!), I rustled up our first really decent meal in our apartment: Salade Composee with my Citrus Mayonnaise (Llew loved it!) with quiche for starters; Ham Tortellini in a Cream Sauce with Pancetta for a main course and Praline Pecan Ice-cream for dessert. While he finished watching the game, I found one of the students that is vacating the building tomorrow selling some of her stuff in a tag sale--and I decided to nip off to her room to pick up some cleaning supplies. I was delighted to find a lot of things I could really use for just 5 euros for the lot!--laundry detergent, dishwashing detergent, scrubbers plus extra virgin olive oil, and a few spices. It was exactly what I needed and she was just thrilled to be able to get rid of them. So it was a very happy transcation indeed.
Llew had a shower before bed and hoped it will help fight jetlag which is keeping him full of beans although it is past midnight here. For which reason, I need to call it a night.
A demain!
Paris, France
Bonjour!
After a fairly sleepless night, I overslept and awoke only at 7. 45 am realizing that I had to shower and shampoo and clean my apartment before I left for Charles de Gaulle airport to pick Llew up. I had never taken the metro to the airport so was surprized by the cost (almost 10 euros each way and no discounts for round trip!) and the length of the journey--it took almost an hour. Fortunately, I had left well in time and by 11. 30 am I was at the right American Airlines terminal on the Arrivals level on schedule--only to discover that he flight had been delayed and was expected at 12. 15 pm. Merde!
Fortunately, I had taken a book and found myself a great seat at Cafe Ritaaz where, propped with a cafe, I awaited his arrival. In due time, Llew made an appearance. He looked tired, sleep-deprived and dissatisfied--all of which, he told me, were true, as it had been an awful flight (old aircraft, cramped seating, terrible food). He braved the long metro ride back to my apartment and although I expected him to take a nap (we reached home at 2. 00 pm), he thought he would wait it out for fear of not falling asleep at night. He welcomed the cuppa I made him, followed very quickly by a very late lunch: salad, quich lorraine and fresh apricots for dessert.
Exploring Cite-Universitaire:
I thought it made sense to take Llew out on a walk around the neighborhood and we started with Cite-Universitaire, the international student community in which I have been ensconsed for the past month. I had saved an exploration of the area for Llew's arrival and it was fun indeed to take the tour with him. We found a map at the main lobby of the Maison Internationale where we discovered the very inexpensively priced student cafetaria and the nicer restaurant.
Using the map to guide us, we made our way around the extensive park-like lawns that comprise this complex. We walked from one building to the next taking in the architectural and sculptural elements from the Casa de Mexico to the La Corbusier-designed Maison de Suisse, from the collonnaded portico of the Maison d'Italie to the much plainer but very interesting Maison de l'Inde which, naturally, I had to explore. Large portraits of Rabindranath Tagore (India's Nobel Literature Laureate--1913) with France's Nobel Literature Laureate, Romaine Rollande--1916, decorated the lobby with a sculpture of Gandhi and more ancient ones from the Sun Temple at Konarak. We also saw the Maison de Maroc and the Spanish and Danish and Norwegian ones before we crossed the street to get to the Marche Franprix to buy groceries for the week.
It was great to pick out food we could try together from a packaged chocolate brioche to a new creamy chevre, from Leffe beer (for me) to new bottles of Bordeau and Cabernet Sauvignon for him. Weighed down by our purchases, we walked briskly home, stashed our goodies and had a cup of tea with Battenburg cake and French macarons and palmiers (the crisp puff pastries cookies with the sweet and delicious glaze).
Exploring Parc Montsouris:
The other thing I had kept to do when Llew arrived was to explore together the Parc Montsouris which lies right across the street from my building. It is a 117 hectare park at the outer edge of the city, the brainchild of Napoleon and his chief architect Baron Hausmann who wished to provide the city with lungs. Based on the style of an English garden, the park turned out to be an absolute delight and Llew and I loved every second of our walk around its green and fragrant environs.
There were beautiful peach roses clinging to the picket fences and spilling over on to the RER train platforms below. There was a vast lake filled with all sorts of mallards, ducks, geese and even swans--both graceful white and the rarer black ones. There was loads of classical sculpture surrounded by beds full of lavender and catmint. There were railings that looked as if they were made of tree trunks--but they turned out to be artificial stone logs instead--so realistically constructed as to be fool-proof. We found ourselves a bench by the lakeside and had a long sit-down and caught up on all the important news of the past few weeks. I discovered that the gold-plated sculpture that I spy from my bathroom window each morning when I first wake up and begin to brush my teeth is not Mozart but the AmericanThomas Paine whose writings on Liberty and the Rights of Man impacted the French Revolution. It is amazing what discoveries one can make on a short walk in the neighborhood!
Llew loves my apartment and thinks I am very lucky indeed to have found it. While he spent the evening at the telly watching Eurosport 2012 (the football match was between Portugual and Spain and Portugal lost!), I rustled up our first really decent meal in our apartment: Salade Composee with my Citrus Mayonnaise (Llew loved it!) with quiche for starters; Ham Tortellini in a Cream Sauce with Pancetta for a main course and Praline Pecan Ice-cream for dessert. While he finished watching the game, I found one of the students that is vacating the building tomorrow selling some of her stuff in a tag sale--and I decided to nip off to her room to pick up some cleaning supplies. I was delighted to find a lot of things I could really use for just 5 euros for the lot!--laundry detergent, dishwashing detergent, scrubbers plus extra virgin olive oil, and a few spices. It was exactly what I needed and she was just thrilled to be able to get rid of them. So it was a very happy transcation indeed.
Llew had a shower before bed and hoped it will help fight jetlag which is keeping him full of beans although it is past midnight here. For which reason, I need to call it a night.
A demain!
Endless NEH Day--Lecture and Movies on Algeria
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
NEH Session on Algeria:
I spent most of the day wrapped up in Franco-Algerian affairs. My day began with my short and very convenient commute to the CISP (Centre Internationale de Sejours de Paris) for our NEH session to be conducted by Prof. Malika Rahal who spoke about the historical intersection of Algeria and France. In an hour that slipped rapidly by, she laid out the current circumstances in which the country has placed itself--afflicted, as it were, by historical amnesia, so that there is no academic work at all on events as they have played out in the coutnry after 1962 when Algeria became free from French colonial rule. I was completely absorbed by the insights she offered, not to mention that fact that she is exceptionally easy on the eye. A stunning woman of mixed race (she calls herself an African-American, having a white American mother and an Algerian Arab father) and a distinct Nebraskan accent (she was rasied in Nebraska), she is tall, slender and has a most delightful smile. Added to these visually attractive features, she is extremely articulate and speaks with a rare clarity on a complex set of issues.
After a brief coffee break, we went into the second segment of her analysis of the reasons for Algerian attitudes towards post-colonial events. I found these insights fascinating especially in light of the mental comparisons I was able to make with the Indian sub-continent and the manner in which India has both, come to terms with her colonial past as well as found a way to move beyond it--to learn from the lessons of hsitory, to celebrate the heroism of her non-violent Independence Movement and yet, at the same time, to have created a distinct national identity that has allowed her to stake her place and be a major player in the 21st century. I can easily see myself doing more research on Algeria and incorporating a comparison between these former colonies and their contemporary status in a future course--perhaps a Seniors' seminar for our Global Liberal Studies students.
Lunch and a Movie Marathon:
Our session ended at 12.45 pm after which we adjourned for lunch. My colleague Noit offered me a lunch coupon which permitted me to partake of a meal at the CISP. I have to say that the Turkey Osso Bucco with the Ratatouile was simply delicious and far from institutional and my colleagues agreed that it was one of the nicer meals they have had there. An hour later, we headed to the opposite end of Paris, the Northwestern parts of the city to the IHTP (Institute de Histoire du Temps Present) to watch two recent movies on Algeria as Malika Rahal wanted us to have seen them recently and in time for her next lecture this coming Thurday. Thus, while I thought I would be getting home about 5. 00 pm, I ended up staying to watch two movies, back to back, in a marathon movie-watching session that was emotionally, intellectually and physically draining.
By the time we finished watching Indigenes (The Indigenous) and Lors Le Loi (Beyond the Law), it was about 7. 30 pm and we were starving (although Cote D'Or Dark Chocolate with Caramelized Pistachios, fresh sweet strawberries and juicy cherries had been doing the rounds while we watched). My colleagues (about 6 of us stayed for both movies as the rest seemed to have seen them earlier), suggested dinner and I decided to join them, not realizing that the venue they chose--a place caleld Le Sardine at Belleville--was a long hike from where we were plus a longer hike from my apartment. Realizing that I had made a mistake in going along with them, I only stayed for a quick beer and then make the hike back home so that I walked in my apartment door only at 9. 45 pm being well and truly knackered.
It was all I could do to stay awake to wish Llew a safe and pleasant flight before I hunkered down in bed and fell fast asleep.
I will be a woman on a mission tomorrow as I get to Charles de Gaulle airport to welcome Llew to Paris, so I better get some urgent shut eye.
A demain!
Paris, France
Bonjour!
NEH Session on Algeria:
I spent most of the day wrapped up in Franco-Algerian affairs. My day began with my short and very convenient commute to the CISP (Centre Internationale de Sejours de Paris) for our NEH session to be conducted by Prof. Malika Rahal who spoke about the historical intersection of Algeria and France. In an hour that slipped rapidly by, she laid out the current circumstances in which the country has placed itself--afflicted, as it were, by historical amnesia, so that there is no academic work at all on events as they have played out in the coutnry after 1962 when Algeria became free from French colonial rule. I was completely absorbed by the insights she offered, not to mention that fact that she is exceptionally easy on the eye. A stunning woman of mixed race (she calls herself an African-American, having a white American mother and an Algerian Arab father) and a distinct Nebraskan accent (she was rasied in Nebraska), she is tall, slender and has a most delightful smile. Added to these visually attractive features, she is extremely articulate and speaks with a rare clarity on a complex set of issues.
After a brief coffee break, we went into the second segment of her analysis of the reasons for Algerian attitudes towards post-colonial events. I found these insights fascinating especially in light of the mental comparisons I was able to make with the Indian sub-continent and the manner in which India has both, come to terms with her colonial past as well as found a way to move beyond it--to learn from the lessons of hsitory, to celebrate the heroism of her non-violent Independence Movement and yet, at the same time, to have created a distinct national identity that has allowed her to stake her place and be a major player in the 21st century. I can easily see myself doing more research on Algeria and incorporating a comparison between these former colonies and their contemporary status in a future course--perhaps a Seniors' seminar for our Global Liberal Studies students.
Lunch and a Movie Marathon:
Our session ended at 12.45 pm after which we adjourned for lunch. My colleague Noit offered me a lunch coupon which permitted me to partake of a meal at the CISP. I have to say that the Turkey Osso Bucco with the Ratatouile was simply delicious and far from institutional and my colleagues agreed that it was one of the nicer meals they have had there. An hour later, we headed to the opposite end of Paris, the Northwestern parts of the city to the IHTP (Institute de Histoire du Temps Present) to watch two recent movies on Algeria as Malika Rahal wanted us to have seen them recently and in time for her next lecture this coming Thurday. Thus, while I thought I would be getting home about 5. 00 pm, I ended up staying to watch two movies, back to back, in a marathon movie-watching session that was emotionally, intellectually and physically draining.
By the time we finished watching Indigenes (The Indigenous) and Lors Le Loi (Beyond the Law), it was about 7. 30 pm and we were starving (although Cote D'Or Dark Chocolate with Caramelized Pistachios, fresh sweet strawberries and juicy cherries had been doing the rounds while we watched). My colleagues (about 6 of us stayed for both movies as the rest seemed to have seen them earlier), suggested dinner and I decided to join them, not realizing that the venue they chose--a place caleld Le Sardine at Belleville--was a long hike from where we were plus a longer hike from my apartment. Realizing that I had made a mistake in going along with them, I only stayed for a quick beer and then make the hike back home so that I walked in my apartment door only at 9. 45 pm being well and truly knackered.
It was all I could do to stay awake to wish Llew a safe and pleasant flight before I hunkered down in bed and fell fast asleep.
I will be a woman on a mission tomorrow as I get to Charles de Gaulle airport to welcome Llew to Paris, so I better get some urgent shut eye.
A demain!
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