Thursday, July 12, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
I felt that slight flutter of panic when I awoke this morning--assaulted by that feeling that there were things I hadn't quite finished doing in time for my departure tomorrow. After a quick breakfast based mainly on leftover scraps of bread and preserves, Llew and I left with our friend Cynthia and went straight to Marks & Spencer on the Champs-Elysses to run an errand for our friend Sylvia. It was also a chance for us to take Cynthia to the festive avenue as Paris got ready to celebrate Bastille Day.
Shopping on the Champs-Elysses:
One short ride on the metro later with a stop at George V ("George Le Cinq"), we were striding along the Avenue that was beautifully strewn with bleu, blanc and rouges banners in readiness for the Quatorze Juilliet festivities. At Marks and Sparks, we found the Battenburg Cake we were seeking and with several bars in our bags (some to take back to India), we set off on our next errand:
Visit to the Church of the Miraculous Medal:
Almost every Indian and Pakistani Catholic in Paris seems to know the Church of the Miraculous Medal on Rue de Bac. Cynthia was keen to pay a visit there and within a short time, we were inside the beautiful church with its heavenly blue altar and its mosaic work. Although it was a weekday, the 12 noon mass was just about to begin and the church was filling fast. We made our visit, went into the shop to buy a few of the medals that are very efficacious in case of sickness and left the church.
Bountiful Le Bon Marche:
Since Le Bon Marche, Paris's snazzy department store, was just around the corner, we went in there so I could show them the beautiful Le Corbusier furniture in the lobby. Since Le Grande Epicerie is just across the road, we went in there to buy sandwiches for our lunch. Cynthia decided to buy us dessert, so at the pastry counter we indulged in chocolate pastries, Paris' famous Opera pastry (named after the Opera building by Charles Garnier) and a mini box of macarons. With all this dietary induglence, I can see myself going on a strict diet when I return to Bombay. God knows I have piled on the Parisian pounds. And God alone knows how or why French women do not get fat. It has to be their staple diet: cigarettes and cafeine in all the coffee they guzzle.
Chocolate Purchases--Two for the Road:
Since I hadn't yet managed to find the chocolates that were recommended by the Paris Gourmet on the internet, my eyes lit up when I spotted Foucher on Rude du Bac. I simply had to step in to buy a few of the recommended croquants--spice-filled chocolate cookies. However, the ones that were offered to us were dark chocolate discs studded with what felt like Rice Krispies. We bought a bag anyway and munched on them as we left the store. Not too far away was Le Maison de Chocolat--there are several of these sprinkled around Paris. The Rigoletto Noir I sought were not available, however. The assistant informed me (in French, mind you) that the temperature conditions in her store are not condusive to the storage of that particular type of chocolate which are affected by condensation on their surface. The chocolates were, therefore, unavailable. Quel Dommage! With little time left to spare, we headed home to munch on our sandwiches and our cakes and then it was time to leave our apartment to see Cynthia off at the station.
Au Revoir Cynthia:
Cynthia's Eurostar Chunnel train was scheduled to leave from Gare Du Nord at 6. 18 pm. By 5.00 pm, we were at the station so that she could clear Immigration and other formalities for her return to the UK. We had spent 4 days with her and they had simply flown--but how great it had been to meet and reconnect with our friend. She marveled at the amount we had managed to cover! Saying goodbye was not easy but she swore she had thoroughly enjoyed her first ever trip away from her husband Michael and, hopefully, it will not be her last. We took last-minute pictures and then off she went.
Back home to Pack:
Llew and I got back home and set ourselves to the task of packing our suitcases and clearning and cleaning out our apartment. In a very systematic way, we managed it for we came to the conclusion that it was best for Llew to take back all my Paris items and things I would not be using in India. This meant that he was better off taking two lighter suitcases and leaving me with one. Somehow, despite severe baggage restrictions from Air France, I managed to fit in all my stuff including the heavy loads of research notes, files and books that I have carried with the intention of finishing up the writing of the manuscript of my book in Bombay. I had awful fears about being confronted with the nighmare of paying for extra baggage.
A Last-Minute Visit from Livia:
At 8.00 pm on the dot, when most of our packing had been accomplished, my French friend Livia arrived to say goodbye. We had a fantastic evening with her as she kept us in splits. It was so much fun. We discovered that as a hobby, she takes pictures of Hollywood stars, following them around the world (New York, Paris, Cannes) and getting to the sites of their engagements with the hopes of shooting their portraits. She showed us the scores of pictures she has managed to capture over the past fifteen years--indeed she described this hobby as a "passion" and said that she will continue to work at it for as long as she is able.
Livia joined us for a meagre dinner based on whatever we had left as we needed to clear up our frigo and cupboards before our departure. In fact, she was kind enough to take away some of my supplies with her (extra virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar, etc). After about 2 hours, it was time to excuse ourselves as we still had so much to do. After she left, we continued working on the dribs and drabs that we had scattered all about the place and managed to finish our packing and clean up the apartment.
It was about 11.00 pm when we went to bed having set our phone alarm for 6. 30 am with the intention of leaving our apartment at 8.00 am which was the time at which we had arranged to have the taxi pick us up. As I lay in bed, I could not believe that my Parisian dream had come to an end.
In some ways it felt as if I had been in Paris forever--I had learned the city like the back of my hand and could find my way around its center with my eyes closed. Yet, in other ways, it seemed as if I had only arrived yesterday for time had flown so fast in the face of the many things I had managed to accomplish and all the miles I had put on to my personal odometer.
Tomorrow, I thought, I will write another blog post assessing my impressions of the city and its people. But for now, it is time for me to close my eyes and bring the curtain down on yet another day and yet another lifetime's adventure.
A demain!
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Versailles! Piece de Resistance of our Rambles
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Versailles, France
Bonjour!
Finalement, I suppose, it was irresistible. I mean you cannot spend a good chunk of the summer in Paris and not go to Versailles! So, we scrapped Giverny, caved in and made the royal pilgrimage in quest of Louis Quartorze's domain on the outskirts of Paris. Besides, our friend Cynthia said she preferred to prance around a chateau than dawdle in a garden--even if it happened to be Monet's and had appeared a thousand times over in his paintings. Also, as she effectively argued, Versailles offered a chateau AND gardens--the very best, in fact, by none other than Andre Le Notre. It was getting to be a bit of a no-brainer, really.
So we set off after a breakfast that was still based on leftovers in the frigo--brioche and baguette and pain au chocolat with coffee (tea for our frend from across the English Channel). The journey by metro was painless: the A train goes straight to Versailles Rive Gauche station from where the Palais is only a short walk away. We changed at our "favorite station" (Not!)--Chatelet Les Halles--and were at our destination (together with hordes of other 'royalists') in a little more than an hour--past the miniature Statue of Liberty that holds court on Pont de Grenelles.
At the Tourist Office that is within sighting distance of the Palace gates, we purchased our tickets: 18 euros got us the Grand Tour: in addition to the main Palace and the Gardens it included the Grand Trianon and the Petite Trianon which is the estate of Marie-Antoinette (M-A). Although I have been to Versailles twice before, I never did 'do' her estate (referred to as her 'domain"), so it made sense to cover it on this visit.
Dodging the Hordes:
We congratulated ourselves on paying 2 euros extra for what we thought would allow us to beat the ticket lines at the gates. But we were sadly mistaken. There were no lines for tickets--what was winding around in serpentine fashion all about the gigantic courtyard in front of the glittering gilded gates was the line to enter! We simply had to worm ourselves in somehow because if we were to join it and get in the kosher way we'd be exhausted even before we'd set foot into the chateau!
With the ease of a pro, our friend Cynthia stunned us by finding an opening in the queue and before we could say "Le Roi Soleil", we were in! It was a bit of a magic trick that I still can't fathom. There is no way strait-laced Llew would have stood for such short-cuts from me! Still, how thrilled we were when we finally had our audio guides in our hands and were facing the altar at the Royal Chapel which is the first real stop on the tour.
Wandering around Versailles:
A royal hunting lodge had existed at Versailles since the days of Henry IV when la chasse was a monarchical pastime. But, if you recall my blog notes after visiting Vaux Le Vicomte, you will remember that Versailles as we know it today came into being when Louis XIV (The Sun King) was seized with jealousy. He was invited to attend the Opening Ceremony of his finance minister, Nicholas Fouquet's new chateau--the Vaux le Vicomte--created by the Big Three: The Architect Le Vaux, The Interior Designer and Painter Charles Le Brun and The Landscape Designer Andre Le Notre. Well, when Louis compared his piddly estate to Fouqet's new showpiece, he went ballistic and immediately imprisoned poor Fouquet who died while inside. Livid Louis then commanded The Big Three to create a chateau for him that would outstrip Vaux many times over. Probably shaking in their chaussures, The Big Three gave him--Ta-Daah! Versailles--a palace that is so OTT (Over The Top) that every other royal residence pales into insignificance when viewed against its grandeur.
Not that Louis XIV is solely responsible for Versailles' splendour. Louis XV and XVI added to its size and substance--the last even building an opera house in the palace. In later phases, it was Jules Hardouin-Mansard, Louis XVI's architect, who had a huge hand in fashioning the form that the palace took. In fact, it was while Louis XVI and his wife Marie-Antoinette were sleeping in their beds that the enraged mob that had just sacked the Bastille and had marched all the way to Versailles from Paris barged into the royal apartments to take the king and queen into custody. M-A managed to rush into her husband's bedchamber (you would have gathered, by now, of course, that royalty kept separate bedrooms) where she was spared for one more night--but ended up in Paris and the Conciergerie the next day, anyway, where they were both subsequently guillotined. As for Lolly-lovin' Louis XIV, well, he just died in his bed at the ripe age of 71 with the satisfaction of having lived in the most elaborate home in the land.
And it is this elaborate home that we had arrived to explore. In fact, it is after one sees 'homes' such as these that one understands why the starving French rebelled against their kings and terminated their monarchy. Interestingly, after the monarchy ended in 1789, following the uncertainties of the French Revolution, most of the original furniture at Versailles was ransacked and sold. There were plans to set fire to the palace--which, fortunately, was spared.
The audio guide took us through the initial rooms where we looked at a lot of splendid paintings of the royal heads that had once lain in its various beds and of the buildings and its gardens. These were punctuated with short films which were also very enlightening and helped us piece the seams of history. But as we walked deeper and deeper into the Royal Apartments, the rooms got larger and more ornate and the genius of Le Vaux and Le Brun became very evident indeed. Aside from its furniture (which the curators are still trying to recover and return to their original positions), the rooms in Versailles are notable for the ceiling paintings many of which are the work of Le Brun and Hardouin-Mansard. The commentary points out note-worthy pieces of furniture, gifts to the monarchs from other dignitaries of Europe, interior decorative elements such as violet marble fireplace mantles and hand-embroidered bed hangings and the preferred lifestyle accoutrements of the occupants of the space. The grandest gallery of all is the famed Hall of Mirrors which must have twinkled from the light of thousands of candles whose flames were reflected in the mirrors that line the walls of the room. The tour ends in a room that contains, among other paintings, the massive one by Jacques-Louis David of the Coronation of Napoleon (one version of which hangs in the Louvre in Paris). We did thoroughly enjoy the tour but were starving and ready for lunch before we undertook the daunting task of visiting the gardens.
Lunch at Brasserie de la Girandole:
To my huge disappointment, we discovered that the Grand Parterre was completely out of bounds to visits as they were preparing for a party and had a shamiana and furniture to put into place. This meant that we could not appreciate the stately bronze sculptures of Greek Gods that surround the reflecting pools. Left with little choice, we walked down the steps towards Le Notre's box-edged flower beds that were a lovely blanket of soft summer shades: pinks and mauves mixed with white--as we made our way to the restaurant for a meal. We chose the sit-down service at Brasserie de la Girandole (which means the Pinwheel Brasserie) as we badly needed a rest. It is amazing how exhausting these jaunts through royal chambers can be!
Lunch was Cynthia's treat and we chose well: Roast Chicken (a son jus--"in his juice") with fries for Llew, Confit de Canard (roasted duck breast) with sauteed fingerling potatoes for me and a Croque Monsieur with Salad for Cynthia. I enjoyed my duck very much indeed and did justice to my meal. Although I had no room for dessert, Llew and Cynthia had vanilla softie ice-cream cones before we found the energy to continue our exploration of the extensive lawns.
Le Notre's Gardens at Versailles:
The Gardens of Versailles are extensive--so extensive that your eye cannot even travel as far as the Grand Bassin. It stops short at the Neptune Fountains (which, irritatingly, were also not playing when we visited). I always feel shortchanged when museums or gardens charge you full price and close off part of the premises--it is simply unfair not to reduce the entry fee if you are not going to allow visitors to get full value for their money. Anyway, now that I have finished ranting, I will say that the fountains without water jets might as well not have been there--they did nothing to enhance my pleasure in the gardens.
In Marie-Antoinette's Domain:
We did make a sharp right turn at this point to go on to the Grand Trianon, the estate of Marie-Antoinette and for the next hour, we explored a much smaller palace which, for the most part, was occupied by the ladies. The concept seemed to me similar to the Moghul zenana or the Turkish harem--for it was a place in which the ladies could seek their entertainment and pleasure far from the prying eyes of the outside world. More gorgeous interior design and decoration is in evidence here--albeit with a feminine touch--giving full indication of 18th century tastes in finery. Here too the gardens that surround the properties were beautifully planned and planted, the colors of the flowers coordinating perfectly to allow wonderful photo ops: reds and violets and whites. It is impossible to describe it all, but I will say that the Malachite Room was my favorite in this section--it is one in which the gigantic blocks of green stone known as malachite that were gifted to the French monarchs by the Russian Tsar, were carved into table tops, a wash basin and compotes. The effect is truly stunning because it is so rare a material. As the 16th century made way for the 17th and 18th, other notorious royal mistresses were ensconced in this space--such as Madame de Pompadour and Madame du Barry, both 'favorites' of Louis XV!
The Petite Trianon is a smaller castle that became M-A's favorite and one in which she spent a great deal of time. As time went by, she turned it into an entertainment area where she could pretend she was just a simple shepherdess and play bucolic games in the grounds with her ladies-in-waiting! This, I suppose would allow her to imagine how the other unfortunate three-quarters lived. Sadly, by then, we were wilting with fatigue and simply did not have the stamina to plough through those parts. So we gave up and asked for the way out--it was a walk of over a mile to get back to the metro station and, needless to say, we were drooping.
We spent the rest of the evening very quietly at home recuperating over drinks and then dinner--more home-cooked fare: melon and smoked ham for starters with buttered baguette, cheese-stuffed ravioli in a tomato cream sauce with sausages and bacon with green beans for a main and fresh apricots for desserts with Boursin cheese with figs and walnuts. Yum, yum and more yum!
I was simply too exhausted to stay up writing my blog--which explains why this one is so tardy!
A demain!
Versailles, France
Bonjour!
Finalement, I suppose, it was irresistible. I mean you cannot spend a good chunk of the summer in Paris and not go to Versailles! So, we scrapped Giverny, caved in and made the royal pilgrimage in quest of Louis Quartorze's domain on the outskirts of Paris. Besides, our friend Cynthia said she preferred to prance around a chateau than dawdle in a garden--even if it happened to be Monet's and had appeared a thousand times over in his paintings. Also, as she effectively argued, Versailles offered a chateau AND gardens--the very best, in fact, by none other than Andre Le Notre. It was getting to be a bit of a no-brainer, really.
So we set off after a breakfast that was still based on leftovers in the frigo--brioche and baguette and pain au chocolat with coffee (tea for our frend from across the English Channel). The journey by metro was painless: the A train goes straight to Versailles Rive Gauche station from where the Palais is only a short walk away. We changed at our "favorite station" (Not!)--Chatelet Les Halles--and were at our destination (together with hordes of other 'royalists') in a little more than an hour--past the miniature Statue of Liberty that holds court on Pont de Grenelles.
At the Tourist Office that is within sighting distance of the Palace gates, we purchased our tickets: 18 euros got us the Grand Tour: in addition to the main Palace and the Gardens it included the Grand Trianon and the Petite Trianon which is the estate of Marie-Antoinette (M-A). Although I have been to Versailles twice before, I never did 'do' her estate (referred to as her 'domain"), so it made sense to cover it on this visit.
Dodging the Hordes:
We congratulated ourselves on paying 2 euros extra for what we thought would allow us to beat the ticket lines at the gates. But we were sadly mistaken. There were no lines for tickets--what was winding around in serpentine fashion all about the gigantic courtyard in front of the glittering gilded gates was the line to enter! We simply had to worm ourselves in somehow because if we were to join it and get in the kosher way we'd be exhausted even before we'd set foot into the chateau!
With the ease of a pro, our friend Cynthia stunned us by finding an opening in the queue and before we could say "Le Roi Soleil", we were in! It was a bit of a magic trick that I still can't fathom. There is no way strait-laced Llew would have stood for such short-cuts from me! Still, how thrilled we were when we finally had our audio guides in our hands and were facing the altar at the Royal Chapel which is the first real stop on the tour.
Wandering around Versailles:
A royal hunting lodge had existed at Versailles since the days of Henry IV when la chasse was a monarchical pastime. But, if you recall my blog notes after visiting Vaux Le Vicomte, you will remember that Versailles as we know it today came into being when Louis XIV (The Sun King) was seized with jealousy. He was invited to attend the Opening Ceremony of his finance minister, Nicholas Fouquet's new chateau--the Vaux le Vicomte--created by the Big Three: The Architect Le Vaux, The Interior Designer and Painter Charles Le Brun and The Landscape Designer Andre Le Notre. Well, when Louis compared his piddly estate to Fouqet's new showpiece, he went ballistic and immediately imprisoned poor Fouquet who died while inside. Livid Louis then commanded The Big Three to create a chateau for him that would outstrip Vaux many times over. Probably shaking in their chaussures, The Big Three gave him--Ta-Daah! Versailles--a palace that is so OTT (Over The Top) that every other royal residence pales into insignificance when viewed against its grandeur.
Not that Louis XIV is solely responsible for Versailles' splendour. Louis XV and XVI added to its size and substance--the last even building an opera house in the palace. In later phases, it was Jules Hardouin-Mansard, Louis XVI's architect, who had a huge hand in fashioning the form that the palace took. In fact, it was while Louis XVI and his wife Marie-Antoinette were sleeping in their beds that the enraged mob that had just sacked the Bastille and had marched all the way to Versailles from Paris barged into the royal apartments to take the king and queen into custody. M-A managed to rush into her husband's bedchamber (you would have gathered, by now, of course, that royalty kept separate bedrooms) where she was spared for one more night--but ended up in Paris and the Conciergerie the next day, anyway, where they were both subsequently guillotined. As for Lolly-lovin' Louis XIV, well, he just died in his bed at the ripe age of 71 with the satisfaction of having lived in the most elaborate home in the land.
And it is this elaborate home that we had arrived to explore. In fact, it is after one sees 'homes' such as these that one understands why the starving French rebelled against their kings and terminated their monarchy. Interestingly, after the monarchy ended in 1789, following the uncertainties of the French Revolution, most of the original furniture at Versailles was ransacked and sold. There were plans to set fire to the palace--which, fortunately, was spared.
The audio guide took us through the initial rooms where we looked at a lot of splendid paintings of the royal heads that had once lain in its various beds and of the buildings and its gardens. These were punctuated with short films which were also very enlightening and helped us piece the seams of history. But as we walked deeper and deeper into the Royal Apartments, the rooms got larger and more ornate and the genius of Le Vaux and Le Brun became very evident indeed. Aside from its furniture (which the curators are still trying to recover and return to their original positions), the rooms in Versailles are notable for the ceiling paintings many of which are the work of Le Brun and Hardouin-Mansard. The commentary points out note-worthy pieces of furniture, gifts to the monarchs from other dignitaries of Europe, interior decorative elements such as violet marble fireplace mantles and hand-embroidered bed hangings and the preferred lifestyle accoutrements of the occupants of the space. The grandest gallery of all is the famed Hall of Mirrors which must have twinkled from the light of thousands of candles whose flames were reflected in the mirrors that line the walls of the room. The tour ends in a room that contains, among other paintings, the massive one by Jacques-Louis David of the Coronation of Napoleon (one version of which hangs in the Louvre in Paris). We did thoroughly enjoy the tour but were starving and ready for lunch before we undertook the daunting task of visiting the gardens.
Lunch at Brasserie de la Girandole:
To my huge disappointment, we discovered that the Grand Parterre was completely out of bounds to visits as they were preparing for a party and had a shamiana and furniture to put into place. This meant that we could not appreciate the stately bronze sculptures of Greek Gods that surround the reflecting pools. Left with little choice, we walked down the steps towards Le Notre's box-edged flower beds that were a lovely blanket of soft summer shades: pinks and mauves mixed with white--as we made our way to the restaurant for a meal. We chose the sit-down service at Brasserie de la Girandole (which means the Pinwheel Brasserie) as we badly needed a rest. It is amazing how exhausting these jaunts through royal chambers can be!
Lunch was Cynthia's treat and we chose well: Roast Chicken (a son jus--"in his juice") with fries for Llew, Confit de Canard (roasted duck breast) with sauteed fingerling potatoes for me and a Croque Monsieur with Salad for Cynthia. I enjoyed my duck very much indeed and did justice to my meal. Although I had no room for dessert, Llew and Cynthia had vanilla softie ice-cream cones before we found the energy to continue our exploration of the extensive lawns.
Le Notre's Gardens at Versailles:
The Gardens of Versailles are extensive--so extensive that your eye cannot even travel as far as the Grand Bassin. It stops short at the Neptune Fountains (which, irritatingly, were also not playing when we visited). I always feel shortchanged when museums or gardens charge you full price and close off part of the premises--it is simply unfair not to reduce the entry fee if you are not going to allow visitors to get full value for their money. Anyway, now that I have finished ranting, I will say that the fountains without water jets might as well not have been there--they did nothing to enhance my pleasure in the gardens.
In Marie-Antoinette's Domain:
We did make a sharp right turn at this point to go on to the Grand Trianon, the estate of Marie-Antoinette and for the next hour, we explored a much smaller palace which, for the most part, was occupied by the ladies. The concept seemed to me similar to the Moghul zenana or the Turkish harem--for it was a place in which the ladies could seek their entertainment and pleasure far from the prying eyes of the outside world. More gorgeous interior design and decoration is in evidence here--albeit with a feminine touch--giving full indication of 18th century tastes in finery. Here too the gardens that surround the properties were beautifully planned and planted, the colors of the flowers coordinating perfectly to allow wonderful photo ops: reds and violets and whites. It is impossible to describe it all, but I will say that the Malachite Room was my favorite in this section--it is one in which the gigantic blocks of green stone known as malachite that were gifted to the French monarchs by the Russian Tsar, were carved into table tops, a wash basin and compotes. The effect is truly stunning because it is so rare a material. As the 16th century made way for the 17th and 18th, other notorious royal mistresses were ensconced in this space--such as Madame de Pompadour and Madame du Barry, both 'favorites' of Louis XV!
The Petite Trianon is a smaller castle that became M-A's favorite and one in which she spent a great deal of time. As time went by, she turned it into an entertainment area where she could pretend she was just a simple shepherdess and play bucolic games in the grounds with her ladies-in-waiting! This, I suppose would allow her to imagine how the other unfortunate three-quarters lived. Sadly, by then, we were wilting with fatigue and simply did not have the stamina to plough through those parts. So we gave up and asked for the way out--it was a walk of over a mile to get back to the metro station and, needless to say, we were drooping.
We spent the rest of the evening very quietly at home recuperating over drinks and then dinner--more home-cooked fare: melon and smoked ham for starters with buttered baguette, cheese-stuffed ravioli in a tomato cream sauce with sausages and bacon with green beans for a main and fresh apricots for desserts with Boursin cheese with figs and walnuts. Yum, yum and more yum!
I was simply too exhausted to stay up writing my blog--which explains why this one is so tardy!
A demain!
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Impressed (As Always) By The Impressionists
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
After our tiring day yesterday, we took it easy with a later get-up than usual. After breakfast (packaged pain au chocolate and baguette with preserves and coffee), showers were done and we were ready to leave for Giverny. The weather was not ideal--cloud cover promised an overcast day. Still, we hoped sunshine would poke through at some point.
It was while we were on the metro literally that we changed tracks. It was much too late a start for a trip so far out of the city, I thought. Let's get to the Musee D'Orsay instead and hope for better weather tomorrow--when Giverny might seem like a rosier prospect. So, we got off one train and hopped on to another and then we were at the serpentine queue outside the Musee.
Musing Through the Musee D'Orsay:
The Musee d'Orsay is, hands down, my very favorite museum in Paris--so I saved the best for last. Our friend Cynthia had never been to it, so it made sense to wait until she arrived in Paris to take her there. But, trouble is, it seems to be everyone's favorite museum! The line had to be seen to be believed. Never have I ever seen this sort of crowd attempting to get into a museum containing art works--not at the Louvre or the National Gallery in London or the Met in NY. It was a sight for sore eyes! How wonderful to know that people could mob a museum in the same way as they would a Bruce Springsteen concert!
One of the reasons I love the museum so much (apart from its Impressionist collection, of course) is the venue: The Gare d'Orsay that once ran tracks to Nantes and Toulouse and Auvers out of Paris was converted into a space to house the national collection of Impressionist paintings. I had first visited the collection almost thirty years ago, as a backpacking graduate student in Europe, at a time when the space was brand-new and all of Paris was buzzing about the movement of the Impressionists from the Musee de Jeu de Paume on the Place de la Concorde to this new space. This time, three decades later, all of Paris is buzzing about the recent new renovation that has taken place inside that has re-grouped the paintings so that they are no longer chronological but massed in sections by Collections: the paintings shown at the first Impressionist Salon at the end of the 1800s, for instance, followed by a whole lot that belonged to a personal collection, etc. It is a tad confusing, to my mind, as my historically-oriented brain prefers chronology to make developments in the art world clear. Still, it was a good visit.
While we still were full of beans, we decided to go and see the Masterpieces of High Impressionism first--on the fifth level. The floor was packed and I mean just mobbed. Even on free Sunday, I did not feel so suffocated at the Louvre. This was just insane. Gallery after gallery went on like this. It took away much of the pleasure of our art perusal and I cursed myself for waiting until the last minute of my stay in Paris to review these works. What was I thinking???
Manet's Dejeuner Sur l'Herbe, the painting that scandalized polite French society at the end of the 1800s when the frank gaze of the nude woman sitting besides her fully-clothed male friends had discomfited Parisians, was our first big stop. From there we were jostled through rooms that held the beautiful Balcon by Manet (I love this work) that features a very lovely young Berthe Morrisot (his sister-in-law) with two other friends. Claude Monet's Waterlilies, his series on the Cathedral at Rouen (seen at varying times of day under varying levels of natural lighting, thanks to Monet's obsession with the impact of light on his subjects), Degas' best known Ballet Dancers, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec's best-known Can Can Dancers including La Goulule and Jane Avril were all on display together with Henri Fantin-Latour's monumental painting that shows the group of Impressionist friends in Manet's atelier watching with rapt attention as their friend unveils his masterpiece. We also saw Cezanne's early and late works from his Still Life with Apples and Oranges to his Card Players (it was really easy, in his landscapes, to see why he was such a huge influence on Picasso and Braque and why they acknowledge their debt to him in their creation of Cubism). I really love to go to the Orsay to see works by the lesser of the celebrity Impressionists--Alfred Sisley and Camille Pisarro whose soft depictions of snow-covered streets or orchards bursting into spring flower have always appealed to me.
Lunch at Cafe Campagna:
After we had satisfied our artistic hungers, more basic ones compelled us towards thoughts of lunch--so we made our way to the new cafe named the Cafe Campagna after the two Brazilian interior designers, Humberto and Fernando Campagna who have conceived of it. The space is dominated by the huge clock that crowns the exterior pediment of the railway station. From the new cafe, you see the back of it. Extremely futuristic in conception, the cafe is lit by huge bell-like lighting fixtures that hang low above the diners, a wall of shiny navy blue shards of glass pieced together to form a striking backdrop and low mobile 'walls' composed of orange wires clumped together. These can be moved around and repositioned wherever one wishes to create an instant partition. The overall effect was simply lovely.
Cafe Campagna offered sit-down service and although the menu wasn't extensive, it was very good. We ordered Salade Bombay--a truly yummy concoction of greens, roasted raisins, caramelized onions, sweet pieces of mango, slices of chicken breast and a really great dressing that was heavily spiced with curry powder. I absolutely will re-concoct this at home. We also ordered a Croque Monsieur. France's humble toasted cheese sandwich was taken to new gourmet heights with the addition of a whole baked goat cheese (chevre) placed on top. As you cut into it, it melted all over and created another flavorful layer on a sandwich that was already bursting with great taste from quality ham and Gruyere cheese. The pasta with pesto sauce and parmesan cheese could have had a bit more sauce added to it--it was a tad too dry. Although the chocolate eclairs doing the rounds were profoundly tempting, as usually happens, we had no room for dessert. Still, the meal was just great (and not just for a museum menu) and very reasonably priced for the excellent sit-down service we had received. I am glad I followed the advice of my NEH colleague Casey who had recommended we eat at the new restaurant.
Back to the Impressionists:
Fortified by our excellent meal, we made our way down to the second level to see the work of the Post-Impressionists, chief among these being Van Gogh and Seurat. And one again, we faced the masses or rather the heads of the masses as they congregated around Van Gogh's best-known works: His Bedroom at Arles, one version of Starry Night, the Church at Auvers Sur Oise, his portrait of his friend Docteur Gachet. There were Seurat's Le Cirque in which his Pontillism intentions were very well explained and several works by Signac, Bonnard and Vuillard. (I cannot wait now to revist the best of Van Gogh's work at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam at the very end of my summer of travel--in late-August, on my way back from India).
The second level is also packed with superb sculptural works by August Rodin and Aristide Maillot (whose hotel particulier I had visited a few weeks ago, now called the Musee Maillot). You zigzag your way through these table-top sculptures as you get in and out of the painting galleries.
On the ground floor, there are several more important twentieth century French works from Manet's Olympia (inspired by Ingres' Odalisque) to one of my favorite paintings of all time, Millet's The Gleaners (a work that was a massive influence on the early Vincent Van Gogh). There are massive canvasses on this level that take the viewer through a maze of art developments to Symbolism. We ended our perusal of the collection with a look at Monet's Dejeuner Sur L'Herbe which was his answer to Manet's work. Monet's is much larger in size and scope, features many more individuals (all fully-clothed) and was cut up by the artist into fragments which were then dispersed all over. It was only rather recently that one part of it was brought back from a museum in Moscow to reunite with a piece that had remained in France. The story of this painting was just as interesting as the subject and the people featured in it. It really did make a fitting end to what had been a really fruitful and fulfilling if deeply fatiguing day for us.
Although we had taken several 'rests' through our wanderings in the museum, we were dead on the bus that we boarded from right opposite the museum to take us home.
Last-Minute Shopping:
We got off at Porte d'Orleans to do some last-minute shopping for items I wish to take to India--port wine for my Dad, Pringles for my little niece and nephew, cheese for me, Amora mustard to send back home to Southport with Llew. We walked slowly home down Boulevard Jourdan to our building and then sank back with steaming tea and chocolate cake.
It was a good time to fill the evening chatting and catching up with our friend Cynthia. We had so much to talk about that time simply flew. Soon it grew darker outside the window--time for dinner. I put together the last bits and bobs from the fridge together to create a meal: Melon with Smoked Ham for a starter with Pain Aux Noix from Poilane and Bordier Butter, Ravioli with Bacon and Sausages in a Tomato Cream Sauce, Fresh Sliced Strawberries and Cream for dessert.
We hope to get an earlier start tomorrow and better weather for a possible trip to Giverny to see the gardens and the house that inspired and gave birth to Monet's best-known works.
A demain!
Paris, France
Bonjour!
After our tiring day yesterday, we took it easy with a later get-up than usual. After breakfast (packaged pain au chocolate and baguette with preserves and coffee), showers were done and we were ready to leave for Giverny. The weather was not ideal--cloud cover promised an overcast day. Still, we hoped sunshine would poke through at some point.
It was while we were on the metro literally that we changed tracks. It was much too late a start for a trip so far out of the city, I thought. Let's get to the Musee D'Orsay instead and hope for better weather tomorrow--when Giverny might seem like a rosier prospect. So, we got off one train and hopped on to another and then we were at the serpentine queue outside the Musee.
Musing Through the Musee D'Orsay:
The Musee d'Orsay is, hands down, my very favorite museum in Paris--so I saved the best for last. Our friend Cynthia had never been to it, so it made sense to wait until she arrived in Paris to take her there. But, trouble is, it seems to be everyone's favorite museum! The line had to be seen to be believed. Never have I ever seen this sort of crowd attempting to get into a museum containing art works--not at the Louvre or the National Gallery in London or the Met in NY. It was a sight for sore eyes! How wonderful to know that people could mob a museum in the same way as they would a Bruce Springsteen concert!
One of the reasons I love the museum so much (apart from its Impressionist collection, of course) is the venue: The Gare d'Orsay that once ran tracks to Nantes and Toulouse and Auvers out of Paris was converted into a space to house the national collection of Impressionist paintings. I had first visited the collection almost thirty years ago, as a backpacking graduate student in Europe, at a time when the space was brand-new and all of Paris was buzzing about the movement of the Impressionists from the Musee de Jeu de Paume on the Place de la Concorde to this new space. This time, three decades later, all of Paris is buzzing about the recent new renovation that has taken place inside that has re-grouped the paintings so that they are no longer chronological but massed in sections by Collections: the paintings shown at the first Impressionist Salon at the end of the 1800s, for instance, followed by a whole lot that belonged to a personal collection, etc. It is a tad confusing, to my mind, as my historically-oriented brain prefers chronology to make developments in the art world clear. Still, it was a good visit.
While we still were full of beans, we decided to go and see the Masterpieces of High Impressionism first--on the fifth level. The floor was packed and I mean just mobbed. Even on free Sunday, I did not feel so suffocated at the Louvre. This was just insane. Gallery after gallery went on like this. It took away much of the pleasure of our art perusal and I cursed myself for waiting until the last minute of my stay in Paris to review these works. What was I thinking???
Manet's Dejeuner Sur l'Herbe, the painting that scandalized polite French society at the end of the 1800s when the frank gaze of the nude woman sitting besides her fully-clothed male friends had discomfited Parisians, was our first big stop. From there we were jostled through rooms that held the beautiful Balcon by Manet (I love this work) that features a very lovely young Berthe Morrisot (his sister-in-law) with two other friends. Claude Monet's Waterlilies, his series on the Cathedral at Rouen (seen at varying times of day under varying levels of natural lighting, thanks to Monet's obsession with the impact of light on his subjects), Degas' best known Ballet Dancers, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec's best-known Can Can Dancers including La Goulule and Jane Avril were all on display together with Henri Fantin-Latour's monumental painting that shows the group of Impressionist friends in Manet's atelier watching with rapt attention as their friend unveils his masterpiece. We also saw Cezanne's early and late works from his Still Life with Apples and Oranges to his Card Players (it was really easy, in his landscapes, to see why he was such a huge influence on Picasso and Braque and why they acknowledge their debt to him in their creation of Cubism). I really love to go to the Orsay to see works by the lesser of the celebrity Impressionists--Alfred Sisley and Camille Pisarro whose soft depictions of snow-covered streets or orchards bursting into spring flower have always appealed to me.
Lunch at Cafe Campagna:
After we had satisfied our artistic hungers, more basic ones compelled us towards thoughts of lunch--so we made our way to the new cafe named the Cafe Campagna after the two Brazilian interior designers, Humberto and Fernando Campagna who have conceived of it. The space is dominated by the huge clock that crowns the exterior pediment of the railway station. From the new cafe, you see the back of it. Extremely futuristic in conception, the cafe is lit by huge bell-like lighting fixtures that hang low above the diners, a wall of shiny navy blue shards of glass pieced together to form a striking backdrop and low mobile 'walls' composed of orange wires clumped together. These can be moved around and repositioned wherever one wishes to create an instant partition. The overall effect was simply lovely.
Cafe Campagna offered sit-down service and although the menu wasn't extensive, it was very good. We ordered Salade Bombay--a truly yummy concoction of greens, roasted raisins, caramelized onions, sweet pieces of mango, slices of chicken breast and a really great dressing that was heavily spiced with curry powder. I absolutely will re-concoct this at home. We also ordered a Croque Monsieur. France's humble toasted cheese sandwich was taken to new gourmet heights with the addition of a whole baked goat cheese (chevre) placed on top. As you cut into it, it melted all over and created another flavorful layer on a sandwich that was already bursting with great taste from quality ham and Gruyere cheese. The pasta with pesto sauce and parmesan cheese could have had a bit more sauce added to it--it was a tad too dry. Although the chocolate eclairs doing the rounds were profoundly tempting, as usually happens, we had no room for dessert. Still, the meal was just great (and not just for a museum menu) and very reasonably priced for the excellent sit-down service we had received. I am glad I followed the advice of my NEH colleague Casey who had recommended we eat at the new restaurant.
Back to the Impressionists:
Fortified by our excellent meal, we made our way down to the second level to see the work of the Post-Impressionists, chief among these being Van Gogh and Seurat. And one again, we faced the masses or rather the heads of the masses as they congregated around Van Gogh's best-known works: His Bedroom at Arles, one version of Starry Night, the Church at Auvers Sur Oise, his portrait of his friend Docteur Gachet. There were Seurat's Le Cirque in which his Pontillism intentions were very well explained and several works by Signac, Bonnard and Vuillard. (I cannot wait now to revist the best of Van Gogh's work at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam at the very end of my summer of travel--in late-August, on my way back from India).
The second level is also packed with superb sculptural works by August Rodin and Aristide Maillot (whose hotel particulier I had visited a few weeks ago, now called the Musee Maillot). You zigzag your way through these table-top sculptures as you get in and out of the painting galleries.
On the ground floor, there are several more important twentieth century French works from Manet's Olympia (inspired by Ingres' Odalisque) to one of my favorite paintings of all time, Millet's The Gleaners (a work that was a massive influence on the early Vincent Van Gogh). There are massive canvasses on this level that take the viewer through a maze of art developments to Symbolism. We ended our perusal of the collection with a look at Monet's Dejeuner Sur L'Herbe which was his answer to Manet's work. Monet's is much larger in size and scope, features many more individuals (all fully-clothed) and was cut up by the artist into fragments which were then dispersed all over. It was only rather recently that one part of it was brought back from a museum in Moscow to reunite with a piece that had remained in France. The story of this painting was just as interesting as the subject and the people featured in it. It really did make a fitting end to what had been a really fruitful and fulfilling if deeply fatiguing day for us.
Although we had taken several 'rests' through our wanderings in the museum, we were dead on the bus that we boarded from right opposite the museum to take us home.
Last-Minute Shopping:
We got off at Porte d'Orleans to do some last-minute shopping for items I wish to take to India--port wine for my Dad, Pringles for my little niece and nephew, cheese for me, Amora mustard to send back home to Southport with Llew. We walked slowly home down Boulevard Jourdan to our building and then sank back with steaming tea and chocolate cake.
It was a good time to fill the evening chatting and catching up with our friend Cynthia. We had so much to talk about that time simply flew. Soon it grew darker outside the window--time for dinner. I put together the last bits and bobs from the fridge together to create a meal: Melon with Smoked Ham for a starter with Pain Aux Noix from Poilane and Bordier Butter, Ravioli with Bacon and Sausages in a Tomato Cream Sauce, Fresh Sliced Strawberries and Cream for dessert.
We hope to get an earlier start tomorrow and better weather for a possible trip to Giverny to see the gardens and the house that inspired and gave birth to Monet's best-known works.
A demain!
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
On the Seine with Cynthia
Monday, July 9, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
Today, our friend Cynthia arrived from London on the Eurostar (Chunnel) train from St. Pancras station. Llew and I took the metro to Gare du Nord to meet her at 10. 57 am. It arrived on the dot. Cynthia was in Wagon No. 1 which was at the ultimate end of the platform and so, was one of the last passengers to emerge. It is simply terrific to see her again--we last met in Connecticut in May on one of her visits to the US.
Back home on the metro, we stashed Cynthia's light bag, had a bite--a smorgasbord of all the items in our fridge that we need to finish up as the end of our tryst with Paris draws near. There was cheese and fruit and nuts and Eric Kayser's pain aux noix. Oh, and lots of Laduree tea because Cynthia, to whom I introduced the Melange de Maison, has become a huge fan.
Then, off we went. We took the metro and here is what we covered. You are warned!!! You might become fatigued simply reading this list (so imagine what it was like for poor Cynthia who was subjected to the Third Degree Cold Turkey!!!)
1. Metro to St. Michel to get to Ile de la Cite.
2. Visit to Shakespeare and Co Book store (We left Llew there to browse as Cynthia and I set off to discover the Cathedral of Notre Dame).
3. Serpentine line at the Parvis de Notre-Dame. So we strolled off to see Saint Chappelle instead.
4. Longer queue at Saint Chapelle--plus Cynthia had visited it and had vivid memories of it. Llew and I had visited only three years ago--so no need for us to return, we thought.
5. Stroll to the Conciergerie to see where Marie-Antoinette spent her last wretched days. (Please note that everywhere poor Cynthia was subjected to short history lectures).
6. Stroll across the Pont St. Michel for some photo ops.
7. Stop at Fontain St. Michel to take pictures for Cynthia's friend who has an apartment close by.
8. Walk through the Latin Quarter to see Little Athens.
9. Visit to the Church of Sainte-Severin.
10. Unexpected Treat: A high school choir from Iowa was giving a concert inside. We listened to a few songs and then left. Cynthia loved the ancient Gothic church.
11. Browsed through another bookstore--The Abbey Book Store run by a Quebecois from Canada.Later, we introduced Llew to it.
12. Back to pick Llew up from Shakespeare and Co at 3. 45 pm (Yes, we covered all this in about 45 minutes and on our feet!). Then, back to the Abbey Book Store.
13. Stroll together through the Parvis of Notre-Dame to the Garden at the back for a sit-down.
14. Visit to the Memorial de la Deportation (which marks France's deportation of Jews in 1944).
15. Stroll along the Pont de L'Archeveche to see the locks that line both sides.
16. On foot across the bridge that connects the Ile de la Cite with the Isle de St. Louis.
17. Walk along Rue de St. Louis to get to Berthillon for ice-cream.
18. Ice-cream Break!!! Cynthia and Llew had Chocolat Noir. I had Pistachio. Both delicious!
19. Down the steps to the quais of the Seine to enjoy our ice-cream while waving to the bateau-mouches.
20. Up the stairs again and down the metro stairwell at Pont Marie to get to Concorde.
21. Walk down the Rue Royale to get to Laduree's Salon de The. (It was then 5. 15 pm).
22. Lovely long tea at Laduree. We had steaming individual pots of tea (I tried their Darjeeling--very good!) and pastries: we had Raspberry-Rose Eclairs, Chocolate Squares and Vanilla Macarons. Cynthia's treat--and it was terrific.
23. Out of Laduree and into the Church of St. Marie de la Madeleine, Napoleon's Church built for the glory of his army. Fabulous classic Greek exterior in imitation of the Acropolis.
24. Another unexpected treat in store: A high school choir was soon to sing at the altar (it was almost 7.00 pm). Turned out to be the choir of the Cathedral School of Peterborough, UK.
25. Just when I told Cynthia that Michael, her husband, might know someone in the school, Cynthia recognized someone who was darting past. He turned out to be their friend Gordon! Quel coincidence!!! They exchanged greetings and Cynthia introduced him to us.
26. We waited to listen to a few songs and then left after lighting a candle at the altar.
27. Walked along Boulevard St. Madeleine to the Opera Garnier to show Cynthia one of Paris' most beautiful buildings.
28. We circumnavigated the building to see Charles Garnier's ingenious design.
29. Across the street, we went to the see the impressive interior of Galleries Lafayette, especially the dome.
30. Inside, Cynthia found a perfume she can only very rarely get in the UK: Eau de Givenchy. She bought a bottle just as the huge department store downed its shutters for the day and threw us out!
31. We left the store to look for a metro station to get home. It was 8.00 pm.
32. But, en route, we got sidetracked as we stepped into a Monoprix to do some food shopping.
33. Unbelievably, we walked into our apartment at 9. 30 pm simply unable to account for the last one and a half hour!
So that was our day!!! No, Cynthia swears she is not foot sore, but maybe she is simply being polite.
We had dinner together at home: Green Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette with lovely huge striped tomatoes; Quiche Lorraine with Haricots Vert, Chocolate Cake (specially sent by Michael from London for my birthday--so I finally did have a birthday cake, after all!) which we enjoyed with cream and choco-caramel ice-cream.
Great end to a great day! Lovely to have our friend with us and we are looking forward to enjoying the next few days with her.
A demain!
Paris, France
Bonjour!
Today, our friend Cynthia arrived from London on the Eurostar (Chunnel) train from St. Pancras station. Llew and I took the metro to Gare du Nord to meet her at 10. 57 am. It arrived on the dot. Cynthia was in Wagon No. 1 which was at the ultimate end of the platform and so, was one of the last passengers to emerge. It is simply terrific to see her again--we last met in Connecticut in May on one of her visits to the US.
Back home on the metro, we stashed Cynthia's light bag, had a bite--a smorgasbord of all the items in our fridge that we need to finish up as the end of our tryst with Paris draws near. There was cheese and fruit and nuts and Eric Kayser's pain aux noix. Oh, and lots of Laduree tea because Cynthia, to whom I introduced the Melange de Maison, has become a huge fan.
Then, off we went. We took the metro and here is what we covered. You are warned!!! You might become fatigued simply reading this list (so imagine what it was like for poor Cynthia who was subjected to the Third Degree Cold Turkey!!!)
1. Metro to St. Michel to get to Ile de la Cite.
2. Visit to Shakespeare and Co Book store (We left Llew there to browse as Cynthia and I set off to discover the Cathedral of Notre Dame).
3. Serpentine line at the Parvis de Notre-Dame. So we strolled off to see Saint Chappelle instead.
4. Longer queue at Saint Chapelle--plus Cynthia had visited it and had vivid memories of it. Llew and I had visited only three years ago--so no need for us to return, we thought.
5. Stroll to the Conciergerie to see where Marie-Antoinette spent her last wretched days. (Please note that everywhere poor Cynthia was subjected to short history lectures).
6. Stroll across the Pont St. Michel for some photo ops.
7. Stop at Fontain St. Michel to take pictures for Cynthia's friend who has an apartment close by.
8. Walk through the Latin Quarter to see Little Athens.
9. Visit to the Church of Sainte-Severin.
10. Unexpected Treat: A high school choir from Iowa was giving a concert inside. We listened to a few songs and then left. Cynthia loved the ancient Gothic church.
11. Browsed through another bookstore--The Abbey Book Store run by a Quebecois from Canada.Later, we introduced Llew to it.
12. Back to pick Llew up from Shakespeare and Co at 3. 45 pm (Yes, we covered all this in about 45 minutes and on our feet!). Then, back to the Abbey Book Store.
13. Stroll together through the Parvis of Notre-Dame to the Garden at the back for a sit-down.
14. Visit to the Memorial de la Deportation (which marks France's deportation of Jews in 1944).
15. Stroll along the Pont de L'Archeveche to see the locks that line both sides.
16. On foot across the bridge that connects the Ile de la Cite with the Isle de St. Louis.
17. Walk along Rue de St. Louis to get to Berthillon for ice-cream.
18. Ice-cream Break!!! Cynthia and Llew had Chocolat Noir. I had Pistachio. Both delicious!
19. Down the steps to the quais of the Seine to enjoy our ice-cream while waving to the bateau-mouches.
20. Up the stairs again and down the metro stairwell at Pont Marie to get to Concorde.
21. Walk down the Rue Royale to get to Laduree's Salon de The. (It was then 5. 15 pm).
22. Lovely long tea at Laduree. We had steaming individual pots of tea (I tried their Darjeeling--very good!) and pastries: we had Raspberry-Rose Eclairs, Chocolate Squares and Vanilla Macarons. Cynthia's treat--and it was terrific.
23. Out of Laduree and into the Church of St. Marie de la Madeleine, Napoleon's Church built for the glory of his army. Fabulous classic Greek exterior in imitation of the Acropolis.
24. Another unexpected treat in store: A high school choir was soon to sing at the altar (it was almost 7.00 pm). Turned out to be the choir of the Cathedral School of Peterborough, UK.
25. Just when I told Cynthia that Michael, her husband, might know someone in the school, Cynthia recognized someone who was darting past. He turned out to be their friend Gordon! Quel coincidence!!! They exchanged greetings and Cynthia introduced him to us.
26. We waited to listen to a few songs and then left after lighting a candle at the altar.
27. Walked along Boulevard St. Madeleine to the Opera Garnier to show Cynthia one of Paris' most beautiful buildings.
28. We circumnavigated the building to see Charles Garnier's ingenious design.
29. Across the street, we went to the see the impressive interior of Galleries Lafayette, especially the dome.
30. Inside, Cynthia found a perfume she can only very rarely get in the UK: Eau de Givenchy. She bought a bottle just as the huge department store downed its shutters for the day and threw us out!
31. We left the store to look for a metro station to get home. It was 8.00 pm.
32. But, en route, we got sidetracked as we stepped into a Monoprix to do some food shopping.
33. Unbelievably, we walked into our apartment at 9. 30 pm simply unable to account for the last one and a half hour!
So that was our day!!! No, Cynthia swears she is not foot sore, but maybe she is simply being polite.
We had dinner together at home: Green Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette with lovely huge striped tomatoes; Quiche Lorraine with Haricots Vert, Chocolate Cake (specially sent by Michael from London for my birthday--so I finally did have a birthday cake, after all!) which we enjoyed with cream and choco-caramel ice-cream.
Great end to a great day! Lovely to have our friend with us and we are looking forward to enjoying the next few days with her.
A demain!
Monday, July 9, 2012
A Birthday on the Seine by the Effiel Tower
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
I had stayed up till 12. 15 at night blogging, so I really did see my birthday dawn while the rest of our household snored: Llew and our French friends from Normandy, Jacques and Florence. They continued to snooze through a sun-filled morning but, eventually, we all dragged ourselves out of bed to eat petit dejeuner. I made scrambled eggs with bacon and we ate it in our dinette in our eat-in kitchen with a variety of French bread (baguettes, brioche, pain du chocolate) and coffee.
Unable to decide exactly how we should spend the morning, Florence the architect, wished to see the Fondation Le Corbusier. Unfortunately, we discovered that it was closed on Sundays. Instead, she recommended the Musee des Arts Premier, known locally and better as the Musee de Quai Branly. Since this place happened to be located right by the Eiffel Tower, it made sense for us to take a walk around the iconic monument, the Palais de Chaillot and the Trocadero gardens.
Memorials to Jews at Bir-Hakeim:
But first, since we got off the metro at Bir-Hakeim, I wanted to find out a bit about the history of the place in Northern Africa for which the metro station is named. It is the site of a pivotal victory for the French in World War II and there is a small exhibition at the station to inform the passer-by of this important juncture in war history.
However, my aim was to stride down the Rue de Grenelles to try and find the monument to the French Jews who were rounded up and penned inside what was known as the Velodrome d'Hiver (Vel d'Hiv for short), a former stadium which no longer stands. The venue served as the first collection point for Jews who, in 1944, were deported to Auschwitz, many never to return. Although the French authorities state that the razing of the stadium had nothing to do with its notorious Nazi past, I find that hard to believe. The conditions under which they were held and the suffering their underwent during the five days of itnernment before they were sent off to Drancy and then to Auchwitz is superbly delineated by Tatiana Rosnay in her novel Sarah's Key (which is also a movie starring Kristin Scott-Thomas).
We found the monument to the Jews just a few feet away on the Boulevard. It consists of a plaque that details the unfortunate collaboration of the Vichy-France government of General Petain with Hitler. There were a few steps leading up to the plaque, small flower beds on both sides and a wreath to mark the spot where so many Jews were holed up. It was, like most such memorials, a very moving sight and after taking a few pictures, we moved on.
Gazing up at Eiffel's Tower:
Hard to believe that we had left Paris' most popular tourist attraction for our last few days--and for very good reasons. We've been there before (several times--Llew has even taken the elevators up although I have never done so). The wait on line was two hours as there was only one elevator in operation. So it was not a priority. Besides, we have been passing by it several times in the metro trains--so have 'seen' it often.
Eiffel's Tower is one of the world's buildings that no matter how often one has seen it, there is another detail to be noted for the first time. For instance, I had not realized that just above the arch that supports the entire structure is engraved the names of France's most distinguished engineers. Florence pointed out a few interesting structural details to us and it was great to have her studied eye accompany us on our perusal of Paris' best-designed buildings.
We had a blast as we attempted to get pictures of ourselves and the entire length of Eiffel's great work: Jacques actually lay down flat on the pavement. A little while later, Llew followed suit and while he was still on the ground, was requested by another couple of tourists to take their picture. "Five Euros", he said, with a perfectly serious face, much to their confusion! After a great deal of hilarious laughter in which we actually did stop traffic (an open top tour bus stopped right next to the spectacle to entertain the passengers inside), we moved on.
The Musee de Quai Branly:
Thanks to Florence, I became introduced today to the work of France's most innovative contemporary architect Jean Nouvel at the Musee de Quai Branly. We walked alongside the Eiffel Tower to arrive, first of all, at his Jardin Suspendu ("Hanging Gardens")--a veritable glory of potted plants (I recognized coral bells, ivy and even hosta!) that made up one entire wall of a six story building! It was simply unbelievable! We actually looked for the irrigation mechanism that keeps the wall watered and it was practically invisible although we could feel the shower of drops that kept the environment moist!
It was then that Florence told us about Jean Nouvel's aesthetic: he attempts to shut off urban noise to introduce the sounds of nature--such as running water and birdsong. In the case of this building, he achieved it by creating a tall thick wall of glass. Incredibly, just as we walked past it, we shut off the traffic that zipped by the Eiffel Tower behind us and might as well have been entering a rain forest. I repeat--it was incredible!
Past the most glorious perennial gardens we went--oakleaf hydrangea hangs out in great big blossoms. There were many varieties of ferns and grass. Clearly Nouvel believes in the artful combination of nature and urbanity and he has done a brilliant job on this building with its colorful cubes jutting out of a plain surface, its dome-like structure at the very top and its Guggenheim Museum-like spiral main building that you climb in gradual stages to arrive at the main floor. The collection itself is color-coded, each hue representing a very different part of the world and its culture--from Asia, Africa, Oceania and the Americas. This is essentially the kind of art Llew finds attractive. It is not really my cup of tea as my taste is far more classic. Still, I got my kicks learning about Jean Nouvel and discovering, to my surprise, that I have actually been to quite a few of his international creations (and did not know that he was the architectural vision behind them): the Opera House in Lyon, for example, that I love; the Tower Agarba in Barcelona, Spain, and although I did not know it, the new Louvre in, of all places, Abu Dhabi. Overall, this was a brilliant introduction to the work of another 'artist' that I have discovered in Paris.
On to the Palais de Chaillot and Trocadero:
We walked briskly then past the Trocadero Gardens to the viewing platform overlooking the Eiffel Tower known as the Palais de Chaillot to get some good pictures of the tower as a group. The sun had its cap in again which meant that we got pictures without shadows--a good thing for photography, but not otherwise. However, we did not stay too long as our friends needed to get back to the train station for their evening train back to Normandy. We reached home in record time.
Late Lunch Chez Nous:
Our quick arrival home gave us the chance to put together a late-lunch for our friends before they boarded their train back home. I rustled up my orange mayonnaise and served it with a green salad with ripe figs, cherry tomatoes and salted almonds--deelish! This was followed by a store-bought goat cheese quiche and caramel ice-cream for dessert. We said hasty Au Revoirs, made promises to meet again soon and then they were off!
Finals Afternoon at Wimbledon:
By this time, the men's final match was well and truly underway at Wimbledon. Poor Llew was very disappointed as he could not get the match on our TV set--we do not have premium cable channels in our apartment. However, we did view it on BBC's Live Sports feed. After a bit of blogging, I jumped into the shower to get ready for our evening's appointment with our hosts, Joyce and Lester.
Dinner at Bouillon Chartier:
Bouillon Chartier does not take reservations. We were told to queue up outside and await our turn! It is a huge place--a sort of canteen--that once used to cater to workmen but is now a renowned restaurant. I read about it in Lunch in Paris: A Love Story with Recipes by Elizabeth Bard and had decided to try it out. My NEH colleagues had also said how much they enjoyed eating there. They had described it as "a fun place"--so it seemed like a good choice.
We decided to meet at 7. 30 but our friends only turned up at 8. 15 as they wanted to watch the end of the tennis match! We watched heaps of people go in before us as we grew more tired and hungry waiting on line. Just when we decided to go inside without them, we spied Joyce who told us how impossible it was to find parking. Anyway, at about 8. 30, we were seated in a bustling interior with a lot of 19th century atmosphere. The black-clad waiters, wearing the knee-length white aprons moved around as if on roller-skates. Menus were literally tossed at us--long white flyers that are probably printed each day. We made our selection from the limited items and then our meal began. A bottle of red wine was ordered for the table and it stimulated our appetite for what lay ahead.
Alas, the meal was not all it was cracked up to be. I enjoyed my entree--a celery remoulade, made with celeriac which is rather rarely found in the States. Llew chose the fois gras served with a strewed prune and a toast point. Since we shared, I have to say that the appetisers were probably the best part of our meal. For a plat, I chose the steak with pepper sauce and fries, Llew chose lamb chops with fries, Joyce got the duck confit and Lester ordered the entrecote. While my steak was great (the sauce was particularly flavorful), Llew's chops were a huge disappointment: they were full of fat leaving almost no meat to be eaten and exceptionally dry. For dessert, having found Peach Melba on the menu and out of nostalgia for the ones he had eaten in Quetta and Murrie in Pakistan, Llew chose it. It was nothing other than a canned peach half with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream!There was almost no raspberry sauce (an essential component to a Peach Melba) in sight. Massive disappointment for him. I ordered the Profiterole, a dessert I love. I have to say that it was just okay. The choux bun was sizeable and it was filled with vanilla ice-cream and smothered with chocolate sauce but it wasn't very tasty. Overall, I'd say we had an especially uneven meal in terms of taste and quality.
Coffee Chez Nous:
Our friends were kind enough to offer us a ride home and we insisted they come upstairs for a night cap. About a half hour later, after driving through Paris by night, we arrived at our place and sat down with lovely cups of Laduree tea. But since it was close to midnight, Joyce and Lester did not stay long. It was a nice end to an evening in which the company was far better than the food. What the outing proved for rme is that you can actually get a not-so-great meal in Paris.
At close to midnight, I continued blogging while Llew fell asleep. I had been especially pleased to talk to my family members in Bombay and the sound of their voices truly made my birthday special. To those of you who are reading this blog and did send birthday wishes my way, a million thanks. I hope you also whispered a wee prayer on my behalf. You are special people and you make my life rich and meaningful. Thank-you.
A demain!
Paris, France
Bonjour!
I had stayed up till 12. 15 at night blogging, so I really did see my birthday dawn while the rest of our household snored: Llew and our French friends from Normandy, Jacques and Florence. They continued to snooze through a sun-filled morning but, eventually, we all dragged ourselves out of bed to eat petit dejeuner. I made scrambled eggs with bacon and we ate it in our dinette in our eat-in kitchen with a variety of French bread (baguettes, brioche, pain du chocolate) and coffee.
Unable to decide exactly how we should spend the morning, Florence the architect, wished to see the Fondation Le Corbusier. Unfortunately, we discovered that it was closed on Sundays. Instead, she recommended the Musee des Arts Premier, known locally and better as the Musee de Quai Branly. Since this place happened to be located right by the Eiffel Tower, it made sense for us to take a walk around the iconic monument, the Palais de Chaillot and the Trocadero gardens.
Memorials to Jews at Bir-Hakeim:
But first, since we got off the metro at Bir-Hakeim, I wanted to find out a bit about the history of the place in Northern Africa for which the metro station is named. It is the site of a pivotal victory for the French in World War II and there is a small exhibition at the station to inform the passer-by of this important juncture in war history.
However, my aim was to stride down the Rue de Grenelles to try and find the monument to the French Jews who were rounded up and penned inside what was known as the Velodrome d'Hiver (Vel d'Hiv for short), a former stadium which no longer stands. The venue served as the first collection point for Jews who, in 1944, were deported to Auschwitz, many never to return. Although the French authorities state that the razing of the stadium had nothing to do with its notorious Nazi past, I find that hard to believe. The conditions under which they were held and the suffering their underwent during the five days of itnernment before they were sent off to Drancy and then to Auchwitz is superbly delineated by Tatiana Rosnay in her novel Sarah's Key (which is also a movie starring Kristin Scott-Thomas).
We found the monument to the Jews just a few feet away on the Boulevard. It consists of a plaque that details the unfortunate collaboration of the Vichy-France government of General Petain with Hitler. There were a few steps leading up to the plaque, small flower beds on both sides and a wreath to mark the spot where so many Jews were holed up. It was, like most such memorials, a very moving sight and after taking a few pictures, we moved on.
Gazing up at Eiffel's Tower:
Hard to believe that we had left Paris' most popular tourist attraction for our last few days--and for very good reasons. We've been there before (several times--Llew has even taken the elevators up although I have never done so). The wait on line was two hours as there was only one elevator in operation. So it was not a priority. Besides, we have been passing by it several times in the metro trains--so have 'seen' it often.
Eiffel's Tower is one of the world's buildings that no matter how often one has seen it, there is another detail to be noted for the first time. For instance, I had not realized that just above the arch that supports the entire structure is engraved the names of France's most distinguished engineers. Florence pointed out a few interesting structural details to us and it was great to have her studied eye accompany us on our perusal of Paris' best-designed buildings.
We had a blast as we attempted to get pictures of ourselves and the entire length of Eiffel's great work: Jacques actually lay down flat on the pavement. A little while later, Llew followed suit and while he was still on the ground, was requested by another couple of tourists to take their picture. "Five Euros", he said, with a perfectly serious face, much to their confusion! After a great deal of hilarious laughter in which we actually did stop traffic (an open top tour bus stopped right next to the spectacle to entertain the passengers inside), we moved on.
The Musee de Quai Branly:
Thanks to Florence, I became introduced today to the work of France's most innovative contemporary architect Jean Nouvel at the Musee de Quai Branly. We walked alongside the Eiffel Tower to arrive, first of all, at his Jardin Suspendu ("Hanging Gardens")--a veritable glory of potted plants (I recognized coral bells, ivy and even hosta!) that made up one entire wall of a six story building! It was simply unbelievable! We actually looked for the irrigation mechanism that keeps the wall watered and it was practically invisible although we could feel the shower of drops that kept the environment moist!
It was then that Florence told us about Jean Nouvel's aesthetic: he attempts to shut off urban noise to introduce the sounds of nature--such as running water and birdsong. In the case of this building, he achieved it by creating a tall thick wall of glass. Incredibly, just as we walked past it, we shut off the traffic that zipped by the Eiffel Tower behind us and might as well have been entering a rain forest. I repeat--it was incredible!
Past the most glorious perennial gardens we went--oakleaf hydrangea hangs out in great big blossoms. There were many varieties of ferns and grass. Clearly Nouvel believes in the artful combination of nature and urbanity and he has done a brilliant job on this building with its colorful cubes jutting out of a plain surface, its dome-like structure at the very top and its Guggenheim Museum-like spiral main building that you climb in gradual stages to arrive at the main floor. The collection itself is color-coded, each hue representing a very different part of the world and its culture--from Asia, Africa, Oceania and the Americas. This is essentially the kind of art Llew finds attractive. It is not really my cup of tea as my taste is far more classic. Still, I got my kicks learning about Jean Nouvel and discovering, to my surprise, that I have actually been to quite a few of his international creations (and did not know that he was the architectural vision behind them): the Opera House in Lyon, for example, that I love; the Tower Agarba in Barcelona, Spain, and although I did not know it, the new Louvre in, of all places, Abu Dhabi. Overall, this was a brilliant introduction to the work of another 'artist' that I have discovered in Paris.
On to the Palais de Chaillot and Trocadero:
We walked briskly then past the Trocadero Gardens to the viewing platform overlooking the Eiffel Tower known as the Palais de Chaillot to get some good pictures of the tower as a group. The sun had its cap in again which meant that we got pictures without shadows--a good thing for photography, but not otherwise. However, we did not stay too long as our friends needed to get back to the train station for their evening train back to Normandy. We reached home in record time.
Late Lunch Chez Nous:
Our quick arrival home gave us the chance to put together a late-lunch for our friends before they boarded their train back home. I rustled up my orange mayonnaise and served it with a green salad with ripe figs, cherry tomatoes and salted almonds--deelish! This was followed by a store-bought goat cheese quiche and caramel ice-cream for dessert. We said hasty Au Revoirs, made promises to meet again soon and then they were off!
Finals Afternoon at Wimbledon:
By this time, the men's final match was well and truly underway at Wimbledon. Poor Llew was very disappointed as he could not get the match on our TV set--we do not have premium cable channels in our apartment. However, we did view it on BBC's Live Sports feed. After a bit of blogging, I jumped into the shower to get ready for our evening's appointment with our hosts, Joyce and Lester.
Dinner at Bouillon Chartier:
Bouillon Chartier does not take reservations. We were told to queue up outside and await our turn! It is a huge place--a sort of canteen--that once used to cater to workmen but is now a renowned restaurant. I read about it in Lunch in Paris: A Love Story with Recipes by Elizabeth Bard and had decided to try it out. My NEH colleagues had also said how much they enjoyed eating there. They had described it as "a fun place"--so it seemed like a good choice.
We decided to meet at 7. 30 but our friends only turned up at 8. 15 as they wanted to watch the end of the tennis match! We watched heaps of people go in before us as we grew more tired and hungry waiting on line. Just when we decided to go inside without them, we spied Joyce who told us how impossible it was to find parking. Anyway, at about 8. 30, we were seated in a bustling interior with a lot of 19th century atmosphere. The black-clad waiters, wearing the knee-length white aprons moved around as if on roller-skates. Menus were literally tossed at us--long white flyers that are probably printed each day. We made our selection from the limited items and then our meal began. A bottle of red wine was ordered for the table and it stimulated our appetite for what lay ahead.
Alas, the meal was not all it was cracked up to be. I enjoyed my entree--a celery remoulade, made with celeriac which is rather rarely found in the States. Llew chose the fois gras served with a strewed prune and a toast point. Since we shared, I have to say that the appetisers were probably the best part of our meal. For a plat, I chose the steak with pepper sauce and fries, Llew chose lamb chops with fries, Joyce got the duck confit and Lester ordered the entrecote. While my steak was great (the sauce was particularly flavorful), Llew's chops were a huge disappointment: they were full of fat leaving almost no meat to be eaten and exceptionally dry. For dessert, having found Peach Melba on the menu and out of nostalgia for the ones he had eaten in Quetta and Murrie in Pakistan, Llew chose it. It was nothing other than a canned peach half with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream!There was almost no raspberry sauce (an essential component to a Peach Melba) in sight. Massive disappointment for him. I ordered the Profiterole, a dessert I love. I have to say that it was just okay. The choux bun was sizeable and it was filled with vanilla ice-cream and smothered with chocolate sauce but it wasn't very tasty. Overall, I'd say we had an especially uneven meal in terms of taste and quality.
Coffee Chez Nous:
Our friends were kind enough to offer us a ride home and we insisted they come upstairs for a night cap. About a half hour later, after driving through Paris by night, we arrived at our place and sat down with lovely cups of Laduree tea. But since it was close to midnight, Joyce and Lester did not stay long. It was a nice end to an evening in which the company was far better than the food. What the outing proved for rme is that you can actually get a not-so-great meal in Paris.
At close to midnight, I continued blogging while Llew fell asleep. I had been especially pleased to talk to my family members in Bombay and the sound of their voices truly made my birthday special. To those of you who are reading this blog and did send birthday wishes my way, a million thanks. I hope you also whispered a wee prayer on my behalf. You are special people and you make my life rich and meaningful. Thank-you.
A demain!
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Finally, The Louvre! And Strolling Through Paris with French Friends
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
Luxuriating in the Louvre:
So I finally did it! Since this is my last week in Paris, it is now time to get to the tried-and-tested venues to luxuriate over them again. So I did get back to the Louvre again--last week's hasty attempt to see David's Horatio was simply not long enough for me. This time I went alone!--to enjoy the place at my leisure and to re-visit some of my favorite works in that treasury of art! Llew preferred to say home to rest and recuperate from all the mad running around town to which I have been subjecting him! He also needed to get our apartment organized for the arrival of our French friends from Normandy, Jacques and Florence Lesrouxelles.
So, off I went after we'd breakfasted together on the Eric Kayser 'flute' that I picked up from one of his artisan boulangeries. It was delicious with our range of preserves and good coffee. I took the metro and went along a very complicated route to avoid connecting at Chalelet. But I reached about 12.00 noon and started my search through the galleries. Entry was free for me with my Metropolitan Museum ID which is such a HUGE boon. If I ever return to live long-term in Paris, it is so good to know that I will be able to haunt the museums free of charge and study the works in detail without having to worry about paying 10 euros each time I enter.
There was a line and it took me about 12 minutes to enter--during which time a light shower began. A sweet French college student who was also alone, shared her umbrella with me. But then we were inside I.M. Pei's wonderful glass triangle, the Pyramid, and I was making my way through the Denton wing to see the Renaissance works. Of course, there was still a mob around the Mona Lisa, but I tried hard to ignore it as I studied the other Italian works that surround her. Apart from Veronese' monumental Marriage in Cana, there are some fabulous Titian pieces in the same room--sadly, most of them go ignored because everyone is being jostled about to look at Mona.
Also sadly, a portrait of "An Unknown Woman", also by Leonardo da Vinci in the main Renaissance hallway that sits rights next to his John the Baptist gets no viewers at all, although they are just as technically brilliant. I feasted my eyes on the three Caravaggios that the Louvre boasts, especially The Fortune Teller which is so different from George de la Tour's that hangs in the Met. Hard to believe that his Death of the Virgin was rejected by the Church in Trastavere in Rome because it did not look religious enough. Instead the church selected a work by an unknown artist whose name I still can't remember. Some fine Botticellis and a superb Carlo Crivelli are in the same gallery (I so rarely get to see a Crivelli work. He is one of my favorite Renaisssance artists and I simply stand in awe of them wherever I find them). There were also some grand canvasses by Andrea del Sarto who is also a Renaissance Master I have come to like very much.
In the next room, I closely scrutinized works by Paolo Uccello (especially his Battle of San Romano) which is badly in need of restoration. The twin one in the National Gallery in London has been wonderfully cleaned up and now glows with grandeur. I took pictures of the Botticelli frescoes--two really delicate ones that portray women with fine angelic features. From there, I had a great time looking at work from Flanders. There were two really nice portraits by Franz Hals and a whole slew of Rembrandts including three self-portraits, all of which were grouped very closely together, allowing the viewer to study the manner in which the painter aged as his technique improved. In the same section, there are Vermeer's great works including his Lacemaker which everyone goes to see, although I really did prefer The Astronomer which sits at the side--for its greater detail. There were also some good canvasses by Pieter de Hooch whose Courtyard of a House in Delft is my favorite one in the National Gallery in London.
I rushed through the gallery containing some immense works by Rubens before I set off to see the Crown Jewels that sit in the most opulent part of the Lourve--which once used to be the palace of French kings.More than the items in the vitrines, it is the decoration of the gallery that I adore--the ornate Classical touches that include sculpture and paintings of the greatest French artists of all time and their patrons--the many kings who allowed them to bring their talent to fruition. I got great portraits of Le Notre, and Le Brun, of Louix XIV and of Francois I, for instance. I did take pictures of some of the crowns, particularly of King Louis who became St. Louis of France. Finally, I ended my visit with a look at some of the work by George de la Tour in the Sully wing and was sorry to note that his Card Players is traveling and is in Montpellier right now. Dommage! En route, I passed by the Impressionist wing and found Renoir's The Readers which was really charming.
I think this time, more than on my past visits, I was completely taken by the awesome interiors of the museum, especially in the Royal wing where I was in shock at the magnificent painted ceilings and other decoration so perfectly executed. I keep forgetting how beautiful the galleries are. On this visit, I ended up taking more pictures of the interior design and decoration than of the works themselves.I also took a lot of pictures of the exterior of the Palais Royale and the Gardens.
A Warm Welcome to Friends from Normandy:
Overall, I had a fantastic time and was sorry I had to hurry it along as I needed to be home at 3. 30 in time for the arrival of our friends Jacques and Florence who were arriving at our place from Normandy to spend the weekend with us. By the time I got home at 5.00 pm (I simply could not leave the Louvre without seeing all I wanted), they were already at our place. We had a cuppa together and then off we went to explore Paris, starting with a stroll through Cite-Universitaire as Florence, who is an architect by profession, wanted to see the Fondation Suisse building which is the work of architect Le Corbusier.
On the metro we went to Ile de la Cite where we first visited the bookshop called Shakespeare and Co that I thought Llew would enjoy seeing. As I expected, he loved it and wanted to return to it to browse at his leisure. (Note to Self: Next time you go to a museum, leave Llew in a bookshop). Next, we went to Rue de la Huchette to enter the Latin Quarter for dinner. Florence was keen to eat an Indian meal and she suggested we try a place called Taj Mahal. The food was very tasty if a bit too bland for our Indian palates--Chicken Tikka Masala, Prawn Curry, Daal with Spinach, Rice and Naans. For dessert, we took a lovely long walk in the moonlight along the quais of the Seine to the Ile de St. Louis where we tried some new flavors of Berthillon ice-cream and introduced our friends to it. This time I went for Chocolat Nougat (Llew chose the same), Florence had a very interesting Thyme Citron (Thyme-Lemon) sorbet and I can't remember what Jacques had! While we were deciding whether to take the bateau-mouch ride or not, the drizzle began and it continued for at least the next hour. This put paid to our plans to take a moonlit ride on the Seine to see the illuminated buildings. Instead we walked to Sainte Chapelle and then took the metro home from there.
All of us were really exhausted after our long ramble in the city. So I suppose it was not surprising that we went straight to bed after we'd made our guests comfortable in the living room.
A demain!
Paris, France
Bonjour!
Luxuriating in the Louvre:
So I finally did it! Since this is my last week in Paris, it is now time to get to the tried-and-tested venues to luxuriate over them again. So I did get back to the Louvre again--last week's hasty attempt to see David's Horatio was simply not long enough for me. This time I went alone!--to enjoy the place at my leisure and to re-visit some of my favorite works in that treasury of art! Llew preferred to say home to rest and recuperate from all the mad running around town to which I have been subjecting him! He also needed to get our apartment organized for the arrival of our French friends from Normandy, Jacques and Florence Lesrouxelles.
So, off I went after we'd breakfasted together on the Eric Kayser 'flute' that I picked up from one of his artisan boulangeries. It was delicious with our range of preserves and good coffee. I took the metro and went along a very complicated route to avoid connecting at Chalelet. But I reached about 12.00 noon and started my search through the galleries. Entry was free for me with my Metropolitan Museum ID which is such a HUGE boon. If I ever return to live long-term in Paris, it is so good to know that I will be able to haunt the museums free of charge and study the works in detail without having to worry about paying 10 euros each time I enter.
There was a line and it took me about 12 minutes to enter--during which time a light shower began. A sweet French college student who was also alone, shared her umbrella with me. But then we were inside I.M. Pei's wonderful glass triangle, the Pyramid, and I was making my way through the Denton wing to see the Renaissance works. Of course, there was still a mob around the Mona Lisa, but I tried hard to ignore it as I studied the other Italian works that surround her. Apart from Veronese' monumental Marriage in Cana, there are some fabulous Titian pieces in the same room--sadly, most of them go ignored because everyone is being jostled about to look at Mona.
Also sadly, a portrait of "An Unknown Woman", also by Leonardo da Vinci in the main Renaissance hallway that sits rights next to his John the Baptist gets no viewers at all, although they are just as technically brilliant. I feasted my eyes on the three Caravaggios that the Louvre boasts, especially The Fortune Teller which is so different from George de la Tour's that hangs in the Met. Hard to believe that his Death of the Virgin was rejected by the Church in Trastavere in Rome because it did not look religious enough. Instead the church selected a work by an unknown artist whose name I still can't remember. Some fine Botticellis and a superb Carlo Crivelli are in the same gallery (I so rarely get to see a Crivelli work. He is one of my favorite Renaisssance artists and I simply stand in awe of them wherever I find them). There were also some grand canvasses by Andrea del Sarto who is also a Renaissance Master I have come to like very much.
In the next room, I closely scrutinized works by Paolo Uccello (especially his Battle of San Romano) which is badly in need of restoration. The twin one in the National Gallery in London has been wonderfully cleaned up and now glows with grandeur. I took pictures of the Botticelli frescoes--two really delicate ones that portray women with fine angelic features. From there, I had a great time looking at work from Flanders. There were two really nice portraits by Franz Hals and a whole slew of Rembrandts including three self-portraits, all of which were grouped very closely together, allowing the viewer to study the manner in which the painter aged as his technique improved. In the same section, there are Vermeer's great works including his Lacemaker which everyone goes to see, although I really did prefer The Astronomer which sits at the side--for its greater detail. There were also some good canvasses by Pieter de Hooch whose Courtyard of a House in Delft is my favorite one in the National Gallery in London.
I rushed through the gallery containing some immense works by Rubens before I set off to see the Crown Jewels that sit in the most opulent part of the Lourve--which once used to be the palace of French kings.More than the items in the vitrines, it is the decoration of the gallery that I adore--the ornate Classical touches that include sculpture and paintings of the greatest French artists of all time and their patrons--the many kings who allowed them to bring their talent to fruition. I got great portraits of Le Notre, and Le Brun, of Louix XIV and of Francois I, for instance. I did take pictures of some of the crowns, particularly of King Louis who became St. Louis of France. Finally, I ended my visit with a look at some of the work by George de la Tour in the Sully wing and was sorry to note that his Card Players is traveling and is in Montpellier right now. Dommage! En route, I passed by the Impressionist wing and found Renoir's The Readers which was really charming.
I think this time, more than on my past visits, I was completely taken by the awesome interiors of the museum, especially in the Royal wing where I was in shock at the magnificent painted ceilings and other decoration so perfectly executed. I keep forgetting how beautiful the galleries are. On this visit, I ended up taking more pictures of the interior design and decoration than of the works themselves.I also took a lot of pictures of the exterior of the Palais Royale and the Gardens.
A Warm Welcome to Friends from Normandy:
Overall, I had a fantastic time and was sorry I had to hurry it along as I needed to be home at 3. 30 in time for the arrival of our friends Jacques and Florence who were arriving at our place from Normandy to spend the weekend with us. By the time I got home at 5.00 pm (I simply could not leave the Louvre without seeing all I wanted), they were already at our place. We had a cuppa together and then off we went to explore Paris, starting with a stroll through Cite-Universitaire as Florence, who is an architect by profession, wanted to see the Fondation Suisse building which is the work of architect Le Corbusier.
On the metro we went to Ile de la Cite where we first visited the bookshop called Shakespeare and Co that I thought Llew would enjoy seeing. As I expected, he loved it and wanted to return to it to browse at his leisure. (Note to Self: Next time you go to a museum, leave Llew in a bookshop). Next, we went to Rue de la Huchette to enter the Latin Quarter for dinner. Florence was keen to eat an Indian meal and she suggested we try a place called Taj Mahal. The food was very tasty if a bit too bland for our Indian palates--Chicken Tikka Masala, Prawn Curry, Daal with Spinach, Rice and Naans. For dessert, we took a lovely long walk in the moonlight along the quais of the Seine to the Ile de St. Louis where we tried some new flavors of Berthillon ice-cream and introduced our friends to it. This time I went for Chocolat Nougat (Llew chose the same), Florence had a very interesting Thyme Citron (Thyme-Lemon) sorbet and I can't remember what Jacques had! While we were deciding whether to take the bateau-mouch ride or not, the drizzle began and it continued for at least the next hour. This put paid to our plans to take a moonlit ride on the Seine to see the illuminated buildings. Instead we walked to Sainte Chapelle and then took the metro home from there.
All of us were really exhausted after our long ramble in the city. So I suppose it was not surprising that we went straight to bed after we'd made our guests comfortable in the living room.
A demain!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Rose Line at Palais Royale, Musee Nissim Camondo & Thai Dinner
Friday, July 6, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
I awoke with the thought that I ought to try and finish up all the bits and bobs on my To-Do List and, believe me, they are varied:
1. Taste baguette known as 'flute' from Eric Kayser (Managed to do that today).
2, Go in search of Dan Brown's Rose Line at the Palais Royale. Reference is to The Da Vinci Code. (Been there, Done that--Today!)
3. Look for Pierre Hermes pastries, especially his unusually flavored macarons. Haven't found him yet.
4. Look for street market food at Rue Mouffetard. (Did it today).
5.Visit Musee Nissim Camondo (Mission Accomplished--also today).
6. Eat at Bouillon Chartier (Will be going there for dinner with friends on Sunday).
7. Go back to Louvre to linger over Millet, Caravaggio, Vermeer, etc. Don't know when I can squeeze it in).
8. Go to Musee D'Orsay to feast on the Impressionists (Will be taking our friend Cynthia there when she arrives on Monday).
9. Return to Giverny to drool over Monet's Garden (Ditto--Cynthia wants to go there).
10. Get off at Bir-Hakeim to see memorials to French Jews at what used to be the Velodrome d'Hiver (Vel D'Hiv). Will probably do that with Jacques and Florence tomorrow when we explore Palais de Chaillot and Tour Eiffel.
11. Decide what color fascinator I want to go home with from Galleries Lafayette. (This might be the hardest thing to do!)
..........
.............
................
Yes, I am beginning to face the reality of the fact that we will not remain here much longer and there are still some miscellaneous items on my List to tick off. But today, being our last day of solitary couplehood together (from tomorrow we will have guests staying with us from Normandy and then London), we decided to make the very most of it.
Off to Rue Mouffetard:
So, after Llew took care of the chore of doing laundry for us and I finally caught up with my blog, we ate a very late breakfast (Jordan's muesli plus leftover bits of brioche and baguette with coffee) and left our apartment really late to take the metro to Place Monge. My aim was to find Rue Mouffetard where street markets have been held since Roman times. The bonus was that we found ourselves in an ancient part of Paris that remained untouched by the magical hand of Baron Haussmann and, therefore, retains its small village ambiance rather than the grand city feel of the rest of the place. Streets are winding (not clean cut knife slashes that end in triangles) and narrow, not punctuated with the plane or chestnut tress that are profuse in the rest of the City of Light. Vendors place their wares on the pavement (you have to dodge cartons of flat white peaches and strange 'striped' tomatoes). Buildings have varied facades. At one corner is an ancient "fountain" known as the Pot de Fer--built by Marie de Medici to provide water for Luxembourg Palace. It turned out to be the most anti-climatic thing we have ever seen in Paris. The 'fountain' was a thick iron pipe that curves into a faucet from which a rather thin stream of water issued forth. One of the vendors on the streets (when we had inquired about its location had said it was "Magnifique!"--he must have had a very good sense of humor or was pulling our legs).
We visited the ancient church of St. Medard, also in the same general area--not too far from the factory that used to produce the Gobelins tapestries for royalty from the Middle Ages onwards. They still produce those tapestries, but we did not pause to take a look. Inside the church, mass was in progress. We were discreet as we went looking for Zurbaran's great work, St. Joseph Walking with Jesus which was really lovely. Again, Gothic dimensions, soaring nave and gilded altar combined to create a fine interior. After a short prayer, we left--again discreetly.
Mission Dan Brown at the Palais Royale:
At Place Monge, we took the metro again to the Palais Royale. I was on a Dan Brown Mission--to seek and find the Arago brass discs set into the pavement (similar to the Jubilee Discs and the Diana Walk discs in London). These were put into place in 1984 when the French held a competition to design a monument commemorating French astronomers. Instead of a sculpture, a Dutch artist named Jan Dibbets came up with the unique idea of setting discs in the pavement to mark the path named for Francois Arago (1786-1853), the man who precisely calculated the Paris Meridian or Rose Line Meridian that cuts a diagonal streak through Paris from the Church of Sacred Coeur at Montmartre to the Palais Royale in the form of 135 discs. (I had followed Dan Brown's Brass Line, if you remember, a few weeks ago at the Church of St. Suplice). Each Arago brass disc, 5 inches wide, is marked N/S (North/South) with the name Arago in the center. At any rate, we hadn't covered the Palais Royale area on foot and there was a lot of literary interest into which I wished to peek.
I found the disc at the very entrance of the Palais Royale just past the Cafe des Nemours. So, Mission Well Accomplished!
Daniel Burren's Sculpture:
Then, past the Lourve Square, we crossed the street and went in search of the black and white columns of varying heights installed in 1986 by French artist Daniel Burren. In this wide courtyard is the massive building of the Comedie Francaise, the famous theater company founded in 1680 which saw the first theatrical ventures of Moliere and Racine, among others. College French lectures came back to mind as we walked through the courtyard to enter the beautiful formal gardens of the Palais Royale (so-called because they are attached to the Palais de Louvre, once the home of France's kings).
The Gardens of the Palais Royale:
Well, the gardens were gorgeous. People were indulging in all sorts of activities from the more active (games of petanque with heavy shiny balls on the sidelines) to the more sedentary (several were reading or daydreaming on the benches overlooking lush perennial flower beds and charming sculpture). We walked the length of the gardens and got to the other side to find the plaque set in the wall that denotes the apartment into which the French writer Collette had moved with her third husband (17 years younger than she). She spent the last 25 years of her life propped up in her bed writing as she overlooked the gardens! I could be eternally productive too if I had such a view! She was the first female writer to be awarded the French Legion d'Honneur.
We then walked to the far end of the quadrangle to see the famous restaurant, the Grand Vefours, which has played host to every French 'celeb' you can think of--from Napoleon to Jean Cocteau. Each of them has plaques on the seats to mark their presence. We entered the beautiful vestibule of the small eatery to admire its decor in the Directoire style--marked by straight lines of painted figures on both walls and ceiling (similar to several rooms in the Vatican). The maitre d' was indulgent enough of our desire to appreciate his surroundings.
Perusing the Bibliotheque Nationale:
Through the grand arcades of the Palais Royale we left to enter the world of the common man and found ourselves right in front of the Bibliotheque Nationale--the National Library--with its imposing Greek architecture and its impressive interior. Although the majority of the library's most prized collection and archives have been moved to a newer building, the coins, medals and numismatics collection is still in this venue. We were fortunate to be able to catch a permanent exhibition on the first and mezzanine floors which took us up a red carpeted marble staircase past a sculpture of Voltaire to the vitrines set in beautiful galleries with heavily gilded ceilings. Sussing out this building was also on my To-Do List, so I was delighted that we not only entered and perused it but caught a glimpse of some of its most valuable assets.
Browsing in Galleries Vivienne:
On the way to the metro, we stumbled upon one of Paris' famous covered arcades: shops built under arches to form a sort of pedestrian plaza. London has a few of them around Picadilly. Although I had seen a couple, this one was truly spectacular from the point of view of decor and ambience. Naturally, we had to saunter in to check it out and how charmed we were! Pretty little modern-day boutqiues sit cheek by jowl with ancient bookshops (you can bet Llew took a trawl through). At the end of the arcade was another hidden branch that curved sharply right--another series of boutiques presented themselves. My camera was busy taking pictures of the decorative and architectural elements of the space--lovely little Classical touches all over--and then we left.
Off to the Musee Niussim Camondo:
Back on the metro we went at Bourse station (past the Bourse which is the French Stock Exchange--now undergoing heavy interior renovation) to arrive at Parc Monceau. A short walk later, we were at the entrance of the hotel particulier (private mansion) that was owned by the fabulously wealthy but ill-fated Jewish family known as the Camondos, who had once lived here in such splendour.
Here is a short history of the family:
The Camondos were Turkish Jews who made their fortune in banking in the 18th century. When things got uncomfortable for Jews in Istanbul, the scion of the family, named Nissim Camondo, moved to France (then the most hospitable place for Jews) with his family. This was the mid 19-century. Upon his death, his son Moise inherited his fortune and his banking business. He married a beautiful French woman named Irene who bore him two children: Nissim (named after his grandfather) and Beatrice. Not long after, Irene fell in love with the Keeper of her husband's stables, left husband Moise and her children behind to ride off into the sunset.
Devastated, Moise devoted himself to raising his children as a loving father and retreated from the world into his massive love of the 18th century. Through the 19th century and into the 20th, he spent his colossal fortune building an 18th century style mansion adjoining Parc Monceau and filling it to the rafters with 18th century items--I mean there is not a single thing in sight that does not date from the 1700s. And in the dealer and antiquarian Seligman, he found a worthy partner who scoured the world on his behalf to find items that were not only beautiful and rare but held a worthy provenance: most of them had belonged to French royalty. The result is a treasury of furniture and art works that have to be seen to be believed.
I called the family ill-fated because Moise's son, Nissim, entered World War I as a reconnaissance pilot providing France with a great deal of important intelligence about German positions until he got into a air fight with a German plane. Both planes went down in flames and Nissim was no more. Even more devastated at the loss of his son, Moise became a recluse. Realizing that his fortune and collection would no longer remain in the family, he decided to turn it over to the French state and placed his daughter Beatrice in-charge of creating a museum out of his world to be named after her brother Nissim.
Beatrice faithfully carried out her father's wishes. Moise died in 1925. The Musee Nissim Camondo opened in 1930. Beatrice managed it beautifully. She married Leon Reinarch and with him she had two children. She converted to Catholicism and because of her position in French society plus her new faith, believed that she would remain untouched by the anti-Jewish hatred fanned by the Nazi Occupation of France. Hence, she disregarded her husband Leon's pleas that they should emigrate out of Europe. In 1944, the last reminaing Camondos (Beatrice, her husband Leon and their children) were deported to Auschwitz and were never heard of again. The Camondo family had ceased to exist.
Even as I type these words, I have goosebumps because the poignancy of their fate is simply impossible to accept. The fact that one of France's wealthiest and most powerful families was simply snuffed out by the War makes me realize how much in despair ordinary Jews might have been during that wretched period. It also brings home the fact that while money can buy a lot of things, it cannot buy Love (Beatrice left Moise) and it cannot guarantee Life (Moise's only son and heir, Nissim, was killed). Fortunately, the French State and the private committees that set about to guard the property and the possessions of Moise have done an exceedingly fine job. To enter the Musee is to leave the normal world behind and truly enter the past. There is opulence yes, but there is also exquisite taste. This is an eclectic collection: unlike the Jacquemart-Andre collection, not many of the paintings are by Old Masters, for instance (although there are a few Guardi landscapes of Venice). Moise's passion was the 18th century and everything gorgeous that it produced. Hence, you will find furniture, carpets, table-top sculpture, engravings, terracotta busts, silver, porcelain, crystal chandeliers--indeed an entire room is given to a display of his porcelain dinnerware including a Sevres set portraying paintings of birds by the French artist Buffon.
The audio guided tour winds through the lower level where the public rooms were to the top level to the bedrooms and personal spaces of the family and ends in the basement where we saw the kitchen filled with shiny copper ware, the butler's pantry and office and the dining room of the servants. If you are a lover of the 18th century and want to see everything associated with that era, this is the place to lose yourself completely. If you want to see desks that belonged to Marie-Antoinette, Sevres porcelain occasional tables that Madame du Barry collected, rare petrified wood vases that look just like porcelain (also belonging to Marie-Antoinette), etc, etc etc. all placed in their original positions exactly as they were when Moise lived in this home, then this is the place to be. The concept is very similar to New York's Frick Museum, Boston's Isabella Gardner Museum and London's Wallace Collection. It is when I peruse such spaces that I thank my lucky stars for the opportunity that has brought me to Paris for such a prolonged period, for I simply would not have been able to see such treasures were I simply another tourist. This is quite simply a not-to-be-missed museum and although there were a few visitors around, it is certainly not on anyone's Must-Do List. More's the pity.
Tea at Eric Kayser's:
With time to kill before our dinner appointment, Llew and I were thrilled to come upon Eric Kayser's Salon de The on Boulevarde de Courcelles right opposite the Church of St. Augustine--and not a moment too soon. For it came down in unbelievable sheets before our astonished eyes as we were safely ensconced inside with steaming cups of lemony Darjeeling and Kayser's heavenly chocolate-hazelnut slices. The rain stopped, rather obligingly, about twenty minutes later, leaving the sun to shine brightly again--bizarre!
It was time for us to buy a 'flute' from the bakery, then hop on a bus and take a ride to kill time all the way to Montparnasse where we passed by some of the city's worthiest monuments.
Thai Dinner with Friend s at Coco's Tree:
At 8.00 om, after a lovely walk along Rue de Courcelles, we were ringing the doorbell of our new Parisian friends, Ashok and Anu, who had invited us to their apartment for drinks. And what a grand apartment it is! I mean, it is huge and spaciously laid out with light filled rooms and their fantastic range of interior accessories. We made ourselves comfortable with glasses of champagne and about 45 minutes later, were joined by another couple: Ramesh, a former Indian ambassador and his French wife, Flo. About fifteen minutes and another drink later, we walked down the street to Coco's Tree which has to have served some of the best Thai food I have ever eaten.
Each of us chose a plat and there was a variety around the table--from gigantic prawns with Pad Thai to my Duck with basil sauce, to green chicken curry to pork roast to beef steak. Every single thing was different and delicious--we passed plates around for a sampling session as we were surprised to discover that the food was not served family-style the way Thai food usually is. Still, everything was simply scrumptious. Dessert was a variety of exotic ice-creams: jack fruit, coconut, sweet potato and mango! Lovely, lovely, lovely--and definitely a Parisian restaurant to which I would return.
Apart from the food, the company was probably some of the best I have ever enjoyed,. Our conversation ranged from books and movies about Paris to little-known parts of the city, from the scandals of DSK who was unfavorably compared to Bill Clinton to Indian students in Paris. We talked about ever so much that was engaging and stimulating and enlightening. I love a dinner conversation from which I learn something useful and practical (and this offered both) but which is also amusing and entertaining. I loved every second of the evening and wished it were longer.
But, alas, we'd had a long day and we were pooped. Our generous hosts picked up the entire tab, Ramesh and Flo gave us a ride back to Denfert-Rochereau from where we jumped on the RER train and got home, sleepy and exhausted--but well satiated after what has been one of my best days in Paris.
A demain!
Paris, France
Bonjour!
I awoke with the thought that I ought to try and finish up all the bits and bobs on my To-Do List and, believe me, they are varied:
1. Taste baguette known as 'flute' from Eric Kayser (Managed to do that today).
2, Go in search of Dan Brown's Rose Line at the Palais Royale. Reference is to The Da Vinci Code. (Been there, Done that--Today!)
3. Look for Pierre Hermes pastries, especially his unusually flavored macarons. Haven't found him yet.
4. Look for street market food at Rue Mouffetard. (Did it today).
5.Visit Musee Nissim Camondo (Mission Accomplished--also today).
6. Eat at Bouillon Chartier (Will be going there for dinner with friends on Sunday).
7. Go back to Louvre to linger over Millet, Caravaggio, Vermeer, etc. Don't know when I can squeeze it in).
8. Go to Musee D'Orsay to feast on the Impressionists (Will be taking our friend Cynthia there when she arrives on Monday).
9. Return to Giverny to drool over Monet's Garden (Ditto--Cynthia wants to go there).
10. Get off at Bir-Hakeim to see memorials to French Jews at what used to be the Velodrome d'Hiver (Vel D'Hiv). Will probably do that with Jacques and Florence tomorrow when we explore Palais de Chaillot and Tour Eiffel.
11. Decide what color fascinator I want to go home with from Galleries Lafayette. (This might be the hardest thing to do!)
..........
.............
................
Yes, I am beginning to face the reality of the fact that we will not remain here much longer and there are still some miscellaneous items on my List to tick off. But today, being our last day of solitary couplehood together (from tomorrow we will have guests staying with us from Normandy and then London), we decided to make the very most of it.
Off to Rue Mouffetard:
So, after Llew took care of the chore of doing laundry for us and I finally caught up with my blog, we ate a very late breakfast (Jordan's muesli plus leftover bits of brioche and baguette with coffee) and left our apartment really late to take the metro to Place Monge. My aim was to find Rue Mouffetard where street markets have been held since Roman times. The bonus was that we found ourselves in an ancient part of Paris that remained untouched by the magical hand of Baron Haussmann and, therefore, retains its small village ambiance rather than the grand city feel of the rest of the place. Streets are winding (not clean cut knife slashes that end in triangles) and narrow, not punctuated with the plane or chestnut tress that are profuse in the rest of the City of Light. Vendors place their wares on the pavement (you have to dodge cartons of flat white peaches and strange 'striped' tomatoes). Buildings have varied facades. At one corner is an ancient "fountain" known as the Pot de Fer--built by Marie de Medici to provide water for Luxembourg Palace. It turned out to be the most anti-climatic thing we have ever seen in Paris. The 'fountain' was a thick iron pipe that curves into a faucet from which a rather thin stream of water issued forth. One of the vendors on the streets (when we had inquired about its location had said it was "Magnifique!"--he must have had a very good sense of humor or was pulling our legs).
We visited the ancient church of St. Medard, also in the same general area--not too far from the factory that used to produce the Gobelins tapestries for royalty from the Middle Ages onwards. They still produce those tapestries, but we did not pause to take a look. Inside the church, mass was in progress. We were discreet as we went looking for Zurbaran's great work, St. Joseph Walking with Jesus which was really lovely. Again, Gothic dimensions, soaring nave and gilded altar combined to create a fine interior. After a short prayer, we left--again discreetly.
Mission Dan Brown at the Palais Royale:
At Place Monge, we took the metro again to the Palais Royale. I was on a Dan Brown Mission--to seek and find the Arago brass discs set into the pavement (similar to the Jubilee Discs and the Diana Walk discs in London). These were put into place in 1984 when the French held a competition to design a monument commemorating French astronomers. Instead of a sculpture, a Dutch artist named Jan Dibbets came up with the unique idea of setting discs in the pavement to mark the path named for Francois Arago (1786-1853), the man who precisely calculated the Paris Meridian or Rose Line Meridian that cuts a diagonal streak through Paris from the Church of Sacred Coeur at Montmartre to the Palais Royale in the form of 135 discs. (I had followed Dan Brown's Brass Line, if you remember, a few weeks ago at the Church of St. Suplice). Each Arago brass disc, 5 inches wide, is marked N/S (North/South) with the name Arago in the center. At any rate, we hadn't covered the Palais Royale area on foot and there was a lot of literary interest into which I wished to peek.
I found the disc at the very entrance of the Palais Royale just past the Cafe des Nemours. So, Mission Well Accomplished!
Daniel Burren's Sculpture:
Then, past the Lourve Square, we crossed the street and went in search of the black and white columns of varying heights installed in 1986 by French artist Daniel Burren. In this wide courtyard is the massive building of the Comedie Francaise, the famous theater company founded in 1680 which saw the first theatrical ventures of Moliere and Racine, among others. College French lectures came back to mind as we walked through the courtyard to enter the beautiful formal gardens of the Palais Royale (so-called because they are attached to the Palais de Louvre, once the home of France's kings).
The Gardens of the Palais Royale:
Well, the gardens were gorgeous. People were indulging in all sorts of activities from the more active (games of petanque with heavy shiny balls on the sidelines) to the more sedentary (several were reading or daydreaming on the benches overlooking lush perennial flower beds and charming sculpture). We walked the length of the gardens and got to the other side to find the plaque set in the wall that denotes the apartment into which the French writer Collette had moved with her third husband (17 years younger than she). She spent the last 25 years of her life propped up in her bed writing as she overlooked the gardens! I could be eternally productive too if I had such a view! She was the first female writer to be awarded the French Legion d'Honneur.
We then walked to the far end of the quadrangle to see the famous restaurant, the Grand Vefours, which has played host to every French 'celeb' you can think of--from Napoleon to Jean Cocteau. Each of them has plaques on the seats to mark their presence. We entered the beautiful vestibule of the small eatery to admire its decor in the Directoire style--marked by straight lines of painted figures on both walls and ceiling (similar to several rooms in the Vatican). The maitre d' was indulgent enough of our desire to appreciate his surroundings.
Perusing the Bibliotheque Nationale:
Through the grand arcades of the Palais Royale we left to enter the world of the common man and found ourselves right in front of the Bibliotheque Nationale--the National Library--with its imposing Greek architecture and its impressive interior. Although the majority of the library's most prized collection and archives have been moved to a newer building, the coins, medals and numismatics collection is still in this venue. We were fortunate to be able to catch a permanent exhibition on the first and mezzanine floors which took us up a red carpeted marble staircase past a sculpture of Voltaire to the vitrines set in beautiful galleries with heavily gilded ceilings. Sussing out this building was also on my To-Do List, so I was delighted that we not only entered and perused it but caught a glimpse of some of its most valuable assets.
Browsing in Galleries Vivienne:
On the way to the metro, we stumbled upon one of Paris' famous covered arcades: shops built under arches to form a sort of pedestrian plaza. London has a few of them around Picadilly. Although I had seen a couple, this one was truly spectacular from the point of view of decor and ambience. Naturally, we had to saunter in to check it out and how charmed we were! Pretty little modern-day boutqiues sit cheek by jowl with ancient bookshops (you can bet Llew took a trawl through). At the end of the arcade was another hidden branch that curved sharply right--another series of boutiques presented themselves. My camera was busy taking pictures of the decorative and architectural elements of the space--lovely little Classical touches all over--and then we left.
Off to the Musee Niussim Camondo:
Back on the metro we went at Bourse station (past the Bourse which is the French Stock Exchange--now undergoing heavy interior renovation) to arrive at Parc Monceau. A short walk later, we were at the entrance of the hotel particulier (private mansion) that was owned by the fabulously wealthy but ill-fated Jewish family known as the Camondos, who had once lived here in such splendour.
Here is a short history of the family:
The Camondos were Turkish Jews who made their fortune in banking in the 18th century. When things got uncomfortable for Jews in Istanbul, the scion of the family, named Nissim Camondo, moved to France (then the most hospitable place for Jews) with his family. This was the mid 19-century. Upon his death, his son Moise inherited his fortune and his banking business. He married a beautiful French woman named Irene who bore him two children: Nissim (named after his grandfather) and Beatrice. Not long after, Irene fell in love with the Keeper of her husband's stables, left husband Moise and her children behind to ride off into the sunset.
Devastated, Moise devoted himself to raising his children as a loving father and retreated from the world into his massive love of the 18th century. Through the 19th century and into the 20th, he spent his colossal fortune building an 18th century style mansion adjoining Parc Monceau and filling it to the rafters with 18th century items--I mean there is not a single thing in sight that does not date from the 1700s. And in the dealer and antiquarian Seligman, he found a worthy partner who scoured the world on his behalf to find items that were not only beautiful and rare but held a worthy provenance: most of them had belonged to French royalty. The result is a treasury of furniture and art works that have to be seen to be believed.
I called the family ill-fated because Moise's son, Nissim, entered World War I as a reconnaissance pilot providing France with a great deal of important intelligence about German positions until he got into a air fight with a German plane. Both planes went down in flames and Nissim was no more. Even more devastated at the loss of his son, Moise became a recluse. Realizing that his fortune and collection would no longer remain in the family, he decided to turn it over to the French state and placed his daughter Beatrice in-charge of creating a museum out of his world to be named after her brother Nissim.
Beatrice faithfully carried out her father's wishes. Moise died in 1925. The Musee Nissim Camondo opened in 1930. Beatrice managed it beautifully. She married Leon Reinarch and with him she had two children. She converted to Catholicism and because of her position in French society plus her new faith, believed that she would remain untouched by the anti-Jewish hatred fanned by the Nazi Occupation of France. Hence, she disregarded her husband Leon's pleas that they should emigrate out of Europe. In 1944, the last reminaing Camondos (Beatrice, her husband Leon and their children) were deported to Auschwitz and were never heard of again. The Camondo family had ceased to exist.
Even as I type these words, I have goosebumps because the poignancy of their fate is simply impossible to accept. The fact that one of France's wealthiest and most powerful families was simply snuffed out by the War makes me realize how much in despair ordinary Jews might have been during that wretched period. It also brings home the fact that while money can buy a lot of things, it cannot buy Love (Beatrice left Moise) and it cannot guarantee Life (Moise's only son and heir, Nissim, was killed). Fortunately, the French State and the private committees that set about to guard the property and the possessions of Moise have done an exceedingly fine job. To enter the Musee is to leave the normal world behind and truly enter the past. There is opulence yes, but there is also exquisite taste. This is an eclectic collection: unlike the Jacquemart-Andre collection, not many of the paintings are by Old Masters, for instance (although there are a few Guardi landscapes of Venice). Moise's passion was the 18th century and everything gorgeous that it produced. Hence, you will find furniture, carpets, table-top sculpture, engravings, terracotta busts, silver, porcelain, crystal chandeliers--indeed an entire room is given to a display of his porcelain dinnerware including a Sevres set portraying paintings of birds by the French artist Buffon.
The audio guided tour winds through the lower level where the public rooms were to the top level to the bedrooms and personal spaces of the family and ends in the basement where we saw the kitchen filled with shiny copper ware, the butler's pantry and office and the dining room of the servants. If you are a lover of the 18th century and want to see everything associated with that era, this is the place to lose yourself completely. If you want to see desks that belonged to Marie-Antoinette, Sevres porcelain occasional tables that Madame du Barry collected, rare petrified wood vases that look just like porcelain (also belonging to Marie-Antoinette), etc, etc etc. all placed in their original positions exactly as they were when Moise lived in this home, then this is the place to be. The concept is very similar to New York's Frick Museum, Boston's Isabella Gardner Museum and London's Wallace Collection. It is when I peruse such spaces that I thank my lucky stars for the opportunity that has brought me to Paris for such a prolonged period, for I simply would not have been able to see such treasures were I simply another tourist. This is quite simply a not-to-be-missed museum and although there were a few visitors around, it is certainly not on anyone's Must-Do List. More's the pity.
Tea at Eric Kayser's:
With time to kill before our dinner appointment, Llew and I were thrilled to come upon Eric Kayser's Salon de The on Boulevarde de Courcelles right opposite the Church of St. Augustine--and not a moment too soon. For it came down in unbelievable sheets before our astonished eyes as we were safely ensconced inside with steaming cups of lemony Darjeeling and Kayser's heavenly chocolate-hazelnut slices. The rain stopped, rather obligingly, about twenty minutes later, leaving the sun to shine brightly again--bizarre!
It was time for us to buy a 'flute' from the bakery, then hop on a bus and take a ride to kill time all the way to Montparnasse where we passed by some of the city's worthiest monuments.
Thai Dinner with Friend s at Coco's Tree:
At 8.00 om, after a lovely walk along Rue de Courcelles, we were ringing the doorbell of our new Parisian friends, Ashok and Anu, who had invited us to their apartment for drinks. And what a grand apartment it is! I mean, it is huge and spaciously laid out with light filled rooms and their fantastic range of interior accessories. We made ourselves comfortable with glasses of champagne and about 45 minutes later, were joined by another couple: Ramesh, a former Indian ambassador and his French wife, Flo. About fifteen minutes and another drink later, we walked down the street to Coco's Tree which has to have served some of the best Thai food I have ever eaten.
Each of us chose a plat and there was a variety around the table--from gigantic prawns with Pad Thai to my Duck with basil sauce, to green chicken curry to pork roast to beef steak. Every single thing was different and delicious--we passed plates around for a sampling session as we were surprised to discover that the food was not served family-style the way Thai food usually is. Still, everything was simply scrumptious. Dessert was a variety of exotic ice-creams: jack fruit, coconut, sweet potato and mango! Lovely, lovely, lovely--and definitely a Parisian restaurant to which I would return.
Apart from the food, the company was probably some of the best I have ever enjoyed,. Our conversation ranged from books and movies about Paris to little-known parts of the city, from the scandals of DSK who was unfavorably compared to Bill Clinton to Indian students in Paris. We talked about ever so much that was engaging and stimulating and enlightening. I love a dinner conversation from which I learn something useful and practical (and this offered both) but which is also amusing and entertaining. I loved every second of the evening and wished it were longer.
But, alas, we'd had a long day and we were pooped. Our generous hosts picked up the entire tab, Ramesh and Flo gave us a ride back to Denfert-Rochereau from where we jumped on the RER train and got home, sleepy and exhausted--but well satiated after what has been one of my best days in Paris.
A demain!
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