Ahem.
1) Symphonie Fantastique. After listening to the score so many times in Music 101, I really enjoyed getting out, getting dressed up, and getting to hear it performed live. I loved watching the conductor, who had more energy than is reasonable for someone past the third grade, and the solo horn parts, which were performed standing and (somewhat) offstage, as dictated by the programme. When the blast signaling the character's execution sounds in the end, I felt a pang of both sadness and relief, knowing what a miserable existence his had been. All that from half an hour of music!
2) La Maison Poupée, with Audrey Tautou. We saw this just about a month into being here, and it made me realize exactly how terrible my French is. I could catch maybe one in every 5 words, and if I hadn't been familiar with the play, would have been totally lost. If I concentrated very hard, I could translate sentences as they came, but I could only do it for a couple of minutes before I could feel the headache coming. I loved being able to experience French theatre, and in such a beautiful venue--I only wish I had seen the play more recently, now that I know my French has improved tenfold.
3) Siddharta. A modern French ballet at its moderniest. I think more than anything, this ballet helped me realize that something being French doesn't make it automatically beautiful, or worthy of my attention. I liked certain elements of the production, but was so thrown off by some of the more interpretive, "artistic" representations of the story of the Buddha that I know I'll be sticking to classical ballet, if any ballet at all, from now on.
4) Agricultural Salon. Awesome. We've spent all this time reading and hearing about the French and their ties to their land, farms, animals, and food, and I got to really see it in action at the Salon d'Agriculture. It would be difficult to choose a favorite part, although the ENORMOUS livestock definitely makes the list, and, who am I kidding, the truffade that Chelsea and I ate left me vowing never to return to the States (seriously, it's this potato-cheese-butter-something delicious dish that's something like a casserole made by the gods). It was just nice to see some down-home French people, in their faded work jeans, next to their prize pig. Soooeeeee!
5) Tour of the Catacombs. One of the coolest extra-curricular (i.e. not included on a walk) things that I did while in Paris, for sure. There's a part of me that's just a little bit morbid, a little bit fascinated with everything skeletons and cemeteries and Halloween, and this trip was a bit of a fix. The way that Paris chooses to deal with its dead is a little bit strange to someone from the States--they're constantly uprooting and moving remains, burying them in the foundations of monuments, and, apparently, storing them en masse in underground caves. So creepy. So cool.
6) The Pierre Boulez concert for tonight counts, yeah? I'm sure it'll be fantastic.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Walk 21: Get Lost! The Anti-Walk
I can't count the number of times that I got lost in Paris, but, if it comes to choosing one of them to document, it will have to be the trip to Roland Garros (site of the French Tennis Open) that ended in Courtney and I finding a fantastic park and staging an impromptu photo shoot among all of the new spring blossoms.
Gorgeous.
And, it turned out to be a park dedicated to poets, all poets, which justified my love even further.
To get lost in Paris isn't to lose oneself at all, but to do quite exactly the opposite.
Gorgeous.
And, it turned out to be a park dedicated to poets, all poets, which justified my love even further.
To get lost in Paris isn't to lose oneself at all, but to do quite exactly the opposite.
Walk 18: Grands Boulevards
The Grands Boulevards are home to Paris' largest department stores, Printemps, and Galeries Lafayette. I'm not much of a department store person, so I didn't stop in while doing the walk, but Richard recently dragged me to a fashion show on the seventh floor of Lafayette (remind me to tell you the American tourist escalator story) and I'll admit that I should have looked around ealier. It's a department store, yeah, but it's gorgeous. Vaulted ceiling gorgeous. And the roof is open to the public, and has an incredible view.
The Palais Garnier Opera house is incredible. Add this to the list of things I love about Paris: they cherish their art, and build structures, temples, worthy to house it.
It was closed to tours the day I went. And the next time I went. I think I'm going to try again today. They say it's worth it.
Napoleon's monument to his victory at Austerlitz, called the Place Vendome Column:
That's Napoleon on top, decked out in Roman costume, complete with laurel wreaths.
Statue of Joan of Arc on Rue Saint-Honoré.
It was on this same street that Joan of Arc was wounded in 1429, at age 16, while leading an attack against the English. She died just two years later, burned at the stake by the English, but remains one of the most deservedly famous heroines in France, having rallied the French to fight the English, ending the Hundred Years' War. Ooo ooo!
The Palais Garnier Opera house is incredible. Add this to the list of things I love about Paris: they cherish their art, and build structures, temples, worthy to house it.
It was closed to tours the day I went. And the next time I went. I think I'm going to try again today. They say it's worth it.Napoleon's monument to his victory at Austerlitz, called the Place Vendome Column:
That's Napoleon on top, decked out in Roman costume, complete with laurel wreaths.
Statue of Joan of Arc on Rue Saint-Honoré.
It was on this same street that Joan of Arc was wounded in 1429, at age 16, while leading an attack against the English. She died just two years later, burned at the stake by the English, but remains one of the most deservedly famous heroines in France, having rallied the French to fight the English, ending the Hundred Years' War. Ooo ooo!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Walk 19: Parisian Necropolis: Cimetière du Père-Lachaise
I've visited cemeteries before, but nothing has even come close to the scale (188 acres!), importance, or general creepiness of Père-Lachaise. Cemeteries are fairly self-explanatory, so this entry will be picture-heavy.
Heloise and Abelard, famous French scholars and lovers of the 12th century. They were torn apart by Heloise's uncle and finished out their lives in solitude, but their remains were moved here, together, in 1817.
Jim Morrison. One of the only graves I could say was crowded, and some French teenagers were definitely smoking joints up here.
And a real musician, Frederic Chopin.
Shaina, Emily, Richard, and I kissing Oscar Wilde's tomb, although sans lipstick, as is usually custom. Knowing a little bit about Oscar Wilde, I really think he would have liked the idea of people kissing his grave--it's exactly the kind of eccentric thing he relished.
And these are just some that I liked. Nobody famous.
The plaque translates as "Alone at last!"
I bet this guy had a great sense of humor.
Heloise and Abelard, famous French scholars and lovers of the 12th century. They were torn apart by Heloise's uncle and finished out their lives in solitude, but their remains were moved here, together, in 1817.
Jim Morrison. One of the only graves I could say was crowded, and some French teenagers were definitely smoking joints up here.
And a real musician, Frederic Chopin.
Shaina, Emily, Richard, and I kissing Oscar Wilde's tomb, although sans lipstick, as is usually custom. Knowing a little bit about Oscar Wilde, I really think he would have liked the idea of people kissing his grave--it's exactly the kind of eccentric thing he relished.And these are just some that I liked. Nobody famous.
The plaque translates as "Alone at last!"
I bet this guy had a great sense of humor.
Walk 9: Follow the Money: Palais Royal, Bourse, Covered Passages
Imagine a nightmare that consists entirely of you, walking past rows and rows of windows, each filled with beautiful, precious, antique, and extraordinary items, all of which you want, and none of which you could ever hope to be able to buy. Welcome to window shopping in Paris.
Le Louvre des antiquaires is one of the most expensive collections of antiques in Paris, and I had to go there for this walk and be tormented by all of the exquisite pieces. Sigh.
On to the Palais Royal, just outside the Louvre, where members of the royal court were housed under Louis XIII. The columns were added in 1986. They remind me of the Audrey Hepburn version of "My Fair Lady."
It was shortly after this shot was taken that Richard, Chelsea, and I happened upon the filming of an Angelina Jolie movie that will be called "The Tourists." We stayed and gawked for several minutes, trying to see through the gobs of cameramen and extras. I'm pretty sure I saw her arm... Then, crossing the street, we were stopped by a news crew and interviewed about being tourists in Paris. C'est cool, non?
The Bourse (Paris' version of Wall Street) I had to save for another day because, after our Jolie/newscrew shenanigans, we were running out of time to get to class.
Let me just say this: Paris is full of surprises. Here, you can turn a corner, innocently, only to find that you're less than a block away from the Eiffel Tower, or get lost and end up coming across something better than you were originally trying to find. It is a beautiful, mysterious city and, in it, you can't help but feel like a beautifully mysterious person.
Le Louvre des antiquaires is one of the most expensive collections of antiques in Paris, and I had to go there for this walk and be tormented by all of the exquisite pieces. Sigh.
On to the Palais Royal, just outside the Louvre, where members of the royal court were housed under Louis XIII. The columns were added in 1986. They remind me of the Audrey Hepburn version of "My Fair Lady."
It was shortly after this shot was taken that Richard, Chelsea, and I happened upon the filming of an Angelina Jolie movie that will be called "The Tourists." We stayed and gawked for several minutes, trying to see through the gobs of cameramen and extras. I'm pretty sure I saw her arm... Then, crossing the street, we were stopped by a news crew and interviewed about being tourists in Paris. C'est cool, non?
The Bourse (Paris' version of Wall Street) I had to save for another day because, after our Jolie/newscrew shenanigans, we were running out of time to get to class.
Let me just say this: Paris is full of surprises. Here, you can turn a corner, innocently, only to find that you're less than a block away from the Eiffel Tower, or get lost and end up coming across something better than you were originally trying to find. It is a beautiful, mysterious city and, in it, you can't help but feel like a beautifully mysterious person.
Walk 15: Saint Ouen's Labyrinth: Navigating the World's Largest Flea Market
Sorry, folks, no pictures. I actually did have my camera that day, but this is the last place you want to stand out as a tourist.
I love junk. Anything that can call itself vintage, second-hand, or just plain old, has a place in my heart and, often, in my closet. But the whole first part of this walk takes you through, not a flea market, but a vendor-lined avenue with aggressive salespeople who love to hear English coming their way. My roommate ran into some problems and we kept our visit pretty short. But I'd love to go back, maybe next time with a thicker French accent, because these are just a few of the things that I saw: a shag-carpet-covered easy chair, garden statues that looked like they'd been stolen straight from the Louvre, a twice-life-sized painted wood cutout of Marilyn Monroe's famous white dress shot, a store filled entirely with old cartoon paraphernalia (think Mickey Mouse as Steamboat Willie). I love France's fascination with the old, and their unwillingness to part from the past. It's comforting, in a way, to think that the things that are valuable to me, that I treasure, may be loved again, generations from now, by some young girl with the same penchant for bargain-hunting.
I love junk. Anything that can call itself vintage, second-hand, or just plain old, has a place in my heart and, often, in my closet. But the whole first part of this walk takes you through, not a flea market, but a vendor-lined avenue with aggressive salespeople who love to hear English coming their way. My roommate ran into some problems and we kept our visit pretty short. But I'd love to go back, maybe next time with a thicker French accent, because these are just a few of the things that I saw: a shag-carpet-covered easy chair, garden statues that looked like they'd been stolen straight from the Louvre, a twice-life-sized painted wood cutout of Marilyn Monroe's famous white dress shot, a store filled entirely with old cartoon paraphernalia (think Mickey Mouse as Steamboat Willie). I love France's fascination with the old, and their unwillingness to part from the past. It's comforting, in a way, to think that the things that are valuable to me, that I treasure, may be loved again, generations from now, by some young girl with the same penchant for bargain-hunting.
Walk 8: Marais Walk 2
This was a short walk, but it was full of character. Can I just say that I love the Jewish quarter? It's the only place in Paris where I can eat while walking and fit in, I love fallafel, and, too, it's really cool to hear Yiddish in passing. Plus, where else are you going to see a menorah in a bakery window?
Besides just ambling around the Marais, we saw the gorgeous Hotel de Soubise, a mansion belonging to Francois de Rohan, the prince of Soubise.
Really, I wasn't interested in much in the museum, but this looks EXACTLY like my friend Julia:
Weird.
Besides just ambling around the Marais, we saw the gorgeous Hotel de Soubise, a mansion belonging to Francois de Rohan, the prince of Soubise.
And then, tucked away, is the Musee Cognacq-Jay, where I found this beaut:
Really, I wasn't interested in much in the museum, but this looks EXACTLY like my friend Julia:
Weird.
Walk 5: Place de la Concorde
This walk took me past a bunch of government buildings, including the Palais de l'Elysée, which is the French equivalent to the White House, and the U.S. Embassy, neither of which I could actually go into.
Place de la Concorde is a large square in front of the Tuileries, and has been the site of a number of important historical events throughout the centuries. Here, Benjamin Franklin signed into an alliance with France in 1778, guaranteeing the colonies' protection of France's assets in North America. At the time of the Revolution, the square served as the space for public executions à la guillotine, including that of Marie Antoinette.
In the very center of la Place is an Egyptian obelisk. I know, random. It was a gift to Charles X from Egyptian governor Mohammed Ali in 1829, and its granite comes from the ruins along the Nile. It's more than 3,000 years old.
Aaaaand with that, I went to the Tuileries and almost fell asleep in the sun. The perfect end to any walk.
Place de la Concorde is a large square in front of the Tuileries, and has been the site of a number of important historical events throughout the centuries. Here, Benjamin Franklin signed into an alliance with France in 1778, guaranteeing the colonies' protection of France's assets in North America. At the time of the Revolution, the square served as the space for public executions à la guillotine, including that of Marie Antoinette.
In the very center of la Place is an Egyptian obelisk. I know, random. It was a gift to Charles X from Egyptian governor Mohammed Ali in 1829, and its granite comes from the ruins along the Nile. It's more than 3,000 years old.
Aaaaand with that, I went to the Tuileries and almost fell asleep in the sun. The perfect end to any walk.
Walk 17: Small Buildings Need Not Apply: La Défense
This is another one where I didn't have my camera with me. A few of us were grabbing food at the mall at La Défense, and decided to make a walk out of it. I can't say that I'm all that glad that we did.
Paris is old. Old and beautiful and brimming with history, and it hurts a little bit to see skyscrapers towering above the city. I understand the need for new development, especially in this town, where strict policies make it nearly impossible to renovate anything, for history's sake, and if I lived here permanently, maybe I'd appreciate a new building here and there. But I don't live here permanently, and, as a long-term tourist, I wish Paris could be all Notre Dames and Sacré Coeurs, and 18th century hotels.
That being said I'm sure that these are the same things people said when they constructed the Eiffel Tower and the glass pyramid at the Louvre, both of which I love. Plus, the thumb was kind of cool, in a creepy way.
Paris is old. Old and beautiful and brimming with history, and it hurts a little bit to see skyscrapers towering above the city. I understand the need for new development, especially in this town, where strict policies make it nearly impossible to renovate anything, for history's sake, and if I lived here permanently, maybe I'd appreciate a new building here and there. But I don't live here permanently, and, as a long-term tourist, I wish Paris could be all Notre Dames and Sacré Coeurs, and 18th century hotels.
That being said I'm sure that these are the same things people said when they constructed the Eiffel Tower and the glass pyramid at the Louvre, both of which I love. Plus, the thumb was kind of cool, in a creepy way.
Walk 12: Time Travel, Tricks, and Treats around Saint-Sulpice
Did Saint Sulpice ring a bell? Yep, you've got it, it's the church made famous by The DaVinci Code, where Silas, the monk, goes in search of the Grail. It's the second-largest church in Paris, but I'm afraid it's not much to look at. This is me with the gnomon and the meridian line, which are also key in The DaVinci Code.
Besides the church, this walk encompassed a couple of pastry shops, a figurine store, and a statue of a centaur. But these were my favorite finds:
An old lady carrying a black cat in a birdcage and a mattress, leaned up against a building for safe keeping. Sometimes, Paris surprises you. Actually, all the time.
Besides the church, this walk encompassed a couple of pastry shops, a figurine store, and a statue of a centaur. But these were my favorite finds:
An old lady carrying a black cat in a birdcage and a mattress, leaned up against a building for safe keeping. Sometimes, Paris surprises you. Actually, all the time.
Walk 4: Of Art, War, and World's Fairs: Invalides, Musée Rodin, Tour Eiffel
This walk didn't get done all in one day, and in fact may have taken three different occasions to finish, because it is chock-full o' amazing things.
We started with les Grand et Petit Palais, both of which were built for the World's Fair of 1900, and now are home to various art exhibits.
Crossing the Pont Alexandre III,
and heading left, we come to the Rodin Museum, far and away one of my favorite places in Paris. Stunning. Absolutely magnificent. Rodin is Michelangelo after it was no longer cool to be Michelangelo. Every single one of his sculptures looks living, looks breathing, looks pensive, looks desperate, looks real. I love them all.
Barely a block away is Les Invalides, a hospital built by Louis XIV to house wounded and elderly veterans. It still serves that purpose, but it also the final resting place of Napoleon Bonaparte, and includes a war museum.
Yeah, that's the Napoleon's hat and coat. I'm almost jealous of myself, it's so cool.
Et, finalement, La Tour Eiffel, that international symbol for Paris. It's HUGE. It towers over everything, and when it was built (history lesson: by Gustave Eiffel in 1889 for the World's Fair) it was the tallest building in the world. It weighs over 10,000 tons and requires 60 tons of paint to cover it fully. I love it. Who am I kidding though, I love everything here.
We started with les Grand et Petit Palais, both of which were built for the World's Fair of 1900, and now are home to various art exhibits.
Crossing the Pont Alexandre III,
and heading left, we come to the Rodin Museum, far and away one of my favorite places in Paris. Stunning. Absolutely magnificent. Rodin is Michelangelo after it was no longer cool to be Michelangelo. Every single one of his sculptures looks living, looks breathing, looks pensive, looks desperate, looks real. I love them all.
Barely a block away is Les Invalides, a hospital built by Louis XIV to house wounded and elderly veterans. It still serves that purpose, but it also the final resting place of Napoleon Bonaparte, and includes a war museum.
Yeah, that's the Napoleon's hat and coat. I'm almost jealous of myself, it's so cool.Et, finalement, La Tour Eiffel, that international symbol for Paris. It's HUGE. It towers over everything, and when it was built (history lesson: by Gustave Eiffel in 1889 for the World's Fair) it was the tallest building in the world. It weighs over 10,000 tons and requires 60 tons of paint to cover it fully. I love it. Who am I kidding though, I love everything here.
Walk 13: Seizième Arrondissement Walk
Paris is divided into 2o arrondissements, kind of like large neighborhoods, each with their own feel. It's not uncommon, when receiving directions, or in asking where someone lives, to get a response that includes the number of the arrondissement. The sixteenth, where this walk is based, is upper-class, away from the major tourist attractions, and almost entirely residential.
I know, it's supposed to be in New York. Auguste Bartholdi, the guy who created the Statue of Liberty that we know, first made this one as a scale model. Actually, I've seen several statues of liberty since I've been here--another tiny one is in the Jardin du Luxembourg.
Paris couldn't get enough Art Nouveau--a lot of the metro entrances are decorated in the style, and, in the seizieme, so are many of the buildings. Behold, Castel Beranger, an apartment building designed by Hector Guimard, the work of whom has left me completely smitten.
The Jardins du Ranelagh boasted bike paths, donkey rides, and this carousel, where kids ride horses and are given a tiny lance, like they're jousting, and have to try to hook their lance through a small ring along the edge of the carousel. There was probably something historical in the park that I was supposed to notice, but this was just so much more fun to photograph.
I know, it's supposed to be in New York. Auguste Bartholdi, the guy who created the Statue of Liberty that we know, first made this one as a scale model. Actually, I've seen several statues of liberty since I've been here--another tiny one is in the Jardin du Luxembourg.
Paris couldn't get enough Art Nouveau--a lot of the metro entrances are decorated in the style, and, in the seizieme, so are many of the buildings. Behold, Castel Beranger, an apartment building designed by Hector Guimard, the work of whom has left me completely smitten.
The Jardins du Ranelagh boasted bike paths, donkey rides, and this carousel, where kids ride horses and are given a tiny lance, like they're jousting, and have to try to hook their lance through a small ring along the edge of the carousel. There was probably something historical in the park that I was supposed to notice, but this was just so much more fun to photograph.
Walk 2: Metro Walk
I didn't have my camera with me when we did this one but, I've got to say, if this entry is boring, it only reflects the nature of the walk. Maybe I'm unappreciative (in fact I know I am), but I just didn't care about the history of the metro. It's there. I use it. Daily. That's all I need to know, right? That, and how to read this map:
It's really not as bad as it looks. It took maybe a week and a half before I was comfortable reading it, another week before I was brave enough to leave home without it, and it's just been within the last month that I have parts of it memorized, and could tell you that if you're by the Eiffel Tower and want to get to the Opera Bastille, you should hope on the 8 at Ecole Militaire, going toward Creteil, switch to the 1 toward Chateau de Vincennes at Concorde, and ride it to Bastille. It's fewer stops than taking the 8 all the way, trust me. All without looking. I'm pretty proud of myself, given how directionally-challenged I am.
It's really not as bad as it looks. It took maybe a week and a half before I was comfortable reading it, another week before I was brave enough to leave home without it, and it's just been within the last month that I have parts of it memorized, and could tell you that if you're by the Eiffel Tower and want to get to the Opera Bastille, you should hope on the 8 at Ecole Militaire, going toward Creteil, switch to the 1 toward Chateau de Vincennes at Concorde, and ride it to Bastille. It's fewer stops than taking the 8 all the way, trust me. All without looking. I'm pretty proud of myself, given how directionally-challenged I am.
Walk 6: Marcher le nez au vent: Sights and smells around the Madeleine.
The Madeleine church began as one of Napoleon's many monuments to his own military power, and was built in the style of a pagan temple. Upon the rise of Louis XVIII, however, the building was renovated and updated into a Catholic church, which it still is today. So, for all its Greek columns, there is still a Catholic Parish-run restaurant in the basement, where my host-mom serves meals for the reasonable price of 7,50 on Wednesday afternoons, for the benefit of charity.
Ooh, I almost forgot the part that makes this walk fragrant. Hooray for Parisian flower markets--they make the winter here so much brighter!
Walk 20: La Route des Manifs: Canal Saint-Martin, République, Bastille, Viaduc des Arts
Remember that scene in Amelie where they introduce each character by showing you their likes and dislikes? And remember how Amelie likes skipping stones at the Canal Saint-Martin? That's where this is:
Gross. Having been in Paris then, during what is surely its ugliest season, and seeing it now, as it's just beginning to blossom into Spring, I don't want to leave. Suddenly there are leaves on all of the trees, water gushing from every fountain, and sunlight streaming through my window in the morning. It is simply glorious.
But on to something more grisly. La Place de la Bastille is the site of the prison that was stormed on July 14, 1789, during the French Revolution. The prison is no longer standing (those revolutionaries and their destructive tendencies, again), but in its place is this, the Genie of Liberty.
Ready for the grisly part? In the base of the column are the remains of 500 victims of the revolutions of 1830 and 1848 (the overthrows of Charles X and Louis-Philippe, respectively). The French have some strange ideas about honoring their dead. If you don't believe me, ask me about the Incorruptible Saints or the Catacombs.
And, lastly, this is the Viaduc des Arts.
I love it. It was originally the base of a railroad, but has spent the last 15 or so years housing various artisan shops. Amazing artisan shops. I saw a chandelier that was in the shape of a ship, complete with masts. Think Peter Pan. I went into a store devoted entirely to cross-stitching, and watched from the window of another as a sculptor blew glass. I really feel like Paris takes more pride in their shopping than we do. Maybe that sounds frivolous, but it's not. Parisians want the best, so, here, they make the best.
Gross. Having been in Paris then, during what is surely its ugliest season, and seeing it now, as it's just beginning to blossom into Spring, I don't want to leave. Suddenly there are leaves on all of the trees, water gushing from every fountain, and sunlight streaming through my window in the morning. It is simply glorious.
But on to something more grisly. La Place de la Bastille is the site of the prison that was stormed on July 14, 1789, during the French Revolution. The prison is no longer standing (those revolutionaries and their destructive tendencies, again), but in its place is this, the Genie of Liberty.
Ready for the grisly part? In the base of the column are the remains of 500 victims of the revolutions of 1830 and 1848 (the overthrows of Charles X and Louis-Philippe, respectively). The French have some strange ideas about honoring their dead. If you don't believe me, ask me about the Incorruptible Saints or the Catacombs.
And, lastly, this is the Viaduc des Arts.
I love it. It was originally the base of a railroad, but has spent the last 15 or so years housing various artisan shops. Amazing artisan shops. I saw a chandelier that was in the shape of a ship, complete with masts. Think Peter Pan. I went into a store devoted entirely to cross-stitching, and watched from the window of another as a sculptor blew glass. I really feel like Paris takes more pride in their shopping than we do. Maybe that sounds frivolous, but it's not. Parisians want the best, so, here, they make the best.
Walk 14: Eighteenth-Century Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous: Musée Jacquemart-André, Musée Nissim de Camondo, Parc Monceau
Museums, museums, museums. It's funny, I feel like I spend half of my time in Paris in one museum or another (the other half is spent on the metro), taking pictures of things I really had no desire to see in the first place. There are some notable exceptions, like some of the astonishing paintings and sculptures in the Louvre, L'Orangerie, the Musée Rodin, and the Musée d'Orsay (okay now that I'm listing, it almost looks like there were more exceptions that anything else), but, for the most part, I'm just not a museum person. For every one piece that really strikes me, really moves me, there are about a hundred that I can't wait to forget. And so, when I somehow become absurdly wealthy, I will purchase every piece that I like (watch out, Rodin Museum, you're going to be wiped clean), and none that I do not, and will live out my days happily among my VanGoghs and Gauguins. It's the only way.
What started that daydream? Visits to two preserved eighteenth-century houses, one of which I loved, the other of which I did not, and neither of which I have pictures for (I know, I ended that sentence with a preposition, but it got really complicated otherwise). The Musée Jacquemart-André has the coolest double staircase I've ever seen/climbed, and it leads to a second-story balcony-type thing facing a beautiful Italian fresco and overlooking a sort of plant-filled foyer. Use your imagination.
This is from the outside:
I love me some lions.
Parc Monceau is beautiful (but I'm a sucker for anything green), and full of ruins, like this:
Cool, huh? Yeah, I thought so too until I found out that they were built in the 1800s because ruins were the "it" thing. Kind of like pre-torn jeans.
Also at Parc Monceau: this elementary school gym class obstacle course that I, for some reason, found really amusing. I think it was the teacher's Adidas windbreaker pants that did it.
What started that daydream? Visits to two preserved eighteenth-century houses, one of which I loved, the other of which I did not, and neither of which I have pictures for (I know, I ended that sentence with a preposition, but it got really complicated otherwise). The Musée Jacquemart-André has the coolest double staircase I've ever seen/climbed, and it leads to a second-story balcony-type thing facing a beautiful Italian fresco and overlooking a sort of plant-filled foyer. Use your imagination.
This is from the outside:
I love me some lions.
Parc Monceau is beautiful (but I'm a sucker for anything green), and full of ruins, like this:
Cool, huh? Yeah, I thought so too until I found out that they were built in the 1800s because ruins were the "it" thing. Kind of like pre-torn jeans.
Also at Parc Monceau: this elementary school gym class obstacle course that I, for some reason, found really amusing. I think it was the teacher's Adidas windbreaker pants that did it.
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