Color and Light

I am a huge Stephen Sondheim fan. (And for those who wondered about the undisclosed location where I kidnapped Rick for his birthday surprise, it was to go see "Side by Side by Sondheim" at the Michigan Shakespeare Festival!)

One of my favorite Sondheim musicals -- and one I'm looking forward to seeing this summer at Canada's Shaw Festival -- is "Sunday in the Park with George," a two-act musical in which Mandy Patinkin created the role of Georges Seurat, the great Impressionist painter. Since you already know I love Monet, it was pretty clear that the major museum on my itinerary would be Musee d'Orsay.

Housed in what used to be a train station which was designed for the Universal Exhibition in 1900 on Paris' right bank, the museum houses many of the most beautiful pieces of Impressionist art in the world (as well as from other periods). This massive clock overlooks the sculpture lobby.

Among the featured artists are Berthe Morrisot...

Vincent VanGogh...

Edgar Degas...

and of course, Monet (You can tell a Monet by the way he paints hay).

Color and light. Sondheim worked these words into one of his songs from "Sunday in the Park." The Musee d'Orsay is all about light. Take a look at the large windows that overlook the sculpture gallery.

And there's plenty of color, too, from the art on the wall to the school children in their red hats, learning about art.

They were well behaved and I loved they were learning about art.

The Art Nouveau section dazled me, with work by Charles Rennie Mackintosh, Rene Lalique and others. The furniture was splendid.

Wouldn't this be a good art table? Large, gently curved, good storage...

There was also furniture from other periods, and I rather liked this table.

And some of the sculpture nearly took my breath away.


The lighting was just perfect.

There were pieces I loved (and for the life of me, can't remember the artists, though I'm sure when I hear them, I'll go, "Duh").

Especially this one...(Is it a Monet? It looks Monetish, but also Pissaroish...)

But one of the real thrills was to stand just inches away from paintings I'd seen in books all my life, like this Van Gogh.

I liked this one, too.

Can any of you guess why this may have been my favorite painting? I thought so!

I enjoyed a lovely lunch in the museum's restaurant, then stepped on the roof terrace for a look at another museum (one I'm saving for my next visit), the Louvre. (It was so large I couldn't handle it -- but you'll see another glimpse of it in a future post.)

When it came time to leave, I walked in the St. Germain des Pres district. After stopping for one of those decadent raspberry tarts, I headed home for our last evening. Along the way, I saw this florist shop, which captivated me.

(Aren't the petals on the ground an interesting touch?) Then there was this puppeteer. I cannot resist a puppeteer!

It was almost time for my last evening in Paris. But before we go there, I'll take you to some of the other sights I enjoyed -- the people and street scenes of Paris -- and to the flea markets that make me smile! So, come back in a day or two!

Montmartre

As I was nearing the end of my visit, I couldn't help but think of Edith Piaf, the Pigalle, the artists of Montmartre and Moulin Rouge -- all things I'd heard about but not yet seen.

Montmartre had been on my list to visit, partly because of its artist's area (the quintessential Paris image for me -- the street artist!), Sacre Coeur and its fabulous view.

So, on Wednesday evening, we headed up to this area, picnic in hand.

One arrives at Montmartre via Metro and then a small cab called the Funiculaire, which boosts you up the rest of the very steep hill. (You can walk. Yes, you can.) -- that's the stop, under the canopy below.

That takes you to the steps of Sacre Coeur, which is a handsome cathedral and one I'd seen from afar.

Sacre Coeur was the only church I visited where one couldn't photograph inside. But its exteriors, particularly in the early evening light, were stunning enough.

Sacre Coeur was started in 1875, but not complete until 1914. When you see this massive structure, high on Montmartre, you can see why.

Although this was the only church where photos weren’t allowed, one should know has glorious features – one of those “takes your breath away” spaces, but in a darker, more cavernous way than the delicate Sainte Chappelle. The doors are heavy bronze and the exterior includes a statue of Joan of Arc and Saint Louis by H. Lefebere.

After visiting the church, we stopped at St. Pierre next door (a lovely tower)...

Then it was off to the Place du Tertre, a square around which are cafés, restaurants, and many artists, both working and selling their wares.

When I think of Paris, this is what I think of. Perhaps less contrived – more like “an artist here, an artist there” (more like my experience at Jardin du Luxembourg). But this will do!

My guide book says “tertre” is hillock or mound, and this square, at the highest point in Paris, is well named. Artists began exhibiting paintings here in the 19th century.

Now, you find them painting portraits (no doubt at extraordinary prices), doing caricatures and selling their wares.

Some were very nice – both Jerry and I enjoyed the scenic Paris this more abstract artist captured.

And I also loved the sepia and white acrylics, again of Parisian scenes.

It was here, at Chez Eugene, that we found a kindly waiter who opened our bottle of wine, since our corkscrew was at home! Our picnic was on the steps of Sacre Coeur, overlooking the city.

It was particlarly lovely as the sun began to dip and the shadows lengthened.

And of course the juggler added some entertainment value...

...as if people watching wasn't enough! We could see the Pompidou Museum several blocks from Jerry's apartment, as well as the Eifel Tower, Notre Dame and other landmarks.

After our picnic, we walked down the hill – We passed by a restaurant called Au Lapin Agile, which has a long history as an artist’s hangout….

We also passed the Moulin de la Galette, a restaurant upon which remained one of the only two original windmills on Montmartre (used for grinding wheat and pressing grapes).

The windmill was also once a dance hall, which inspired this Renoir painting, "Bal du Moulin de la Galette" in 1876.

Then down the hill some more ....

Where we encountered my favorite sign...

And then some more...

Past some lovely buildings, cafes, and shops...

When we got to the bottom, it was nearly dark. It was there we saw the bright lights of a different Moulin (windmill) – the famed Moulin Rouge, where they do old Paris Vegas-style.

I also loved the Metro signs, often seeking out these deco-styled ones -- only a few remain in Paris. It seemed quite appropriate that one should be in this area.

My take on this area? Great view, and I'm glad we went -- it was fun to picnic, see the artists, and the beautiful Sacre Coeur. While we we didn't visit the Dali museum, which I would have enjoyed, Montmartre was picturesque, a pretty hopping place.

But I wouldn't need to go back. Except maybe to shoot more photos of those Metro signs! And, if you're visiting for only a brief time (I was lucky -- I had nearly two weeks), you may want to pass it up for other spots, although the price was right! Free!

Things I Learned Today:

I never knew about this funiclaire thing! That was kind of fun!

The original Paris Metro signs are absolutely beautiful. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to see several – particularly in this very old district.

My idea of Paris is not this decade. It’s probably 1930s through 1970s – with a bit of the late 1800s thrown in. I love the Paris I see, but I’m periodically adjusting my expectations!

My "audio soundtrack" of Paris doesn't apply anymore. I'm not hearing Piaffy-type singers, or concertinas, or music you expect to hear from a French film of the 70s or an Audrey Hepburn flick. I shouldn't be surprised about this -- that's vintage. I guess I am, too. The music I hear everywhere (not just Montmartre) is pretty much the same as I hear in the States -- but in French...

You can literally see for miles from Montmartre and the view is lovely.

In Paris, no one seems to care if you have open wine bottles or picnic on the street -- or church steps.

One becomes spoiled being allowed to take photos everywhere and when they say you can't, one is taken aback! At least, this one was!

A Birthday Greeting!

A break from France to talk about two things near and dear to my heart -- the Tour de France and Rick's birthday!

In our household, summer means time at the lake and Myrtle Beach, a gentler schedule, a garden that sometimes looks great, and the Tour de France!

(This painting from Musee Carnavalet titled "Les Six Jours" by Alexandre Ganesco, is a race other than the Tour, but it's as close as I could come!)

(For an interesting blog about a fellow from Chicago who is following this year's Tour on his own bike in France, meet George the Cyclist!)

Bicycles are Rick's life. I suppose if someone was holding a knife to his throat, he'd choose me or the kids over the bike. I think. (Although I wouldn't always bet the farm on it, especially in the summer!)

So, on this birthday day for my biker boy, I celebrate him, hoping the sun shines on a long ride, where he can be Lance or Levi or Contador or whomever he wants to be, flying down the road on the seat of a bike at 25 miles per hour, working up a sweat and feeling very happy indeed.

As part of my celebration, we had a birthday gathering for him last night as part of his regular Tuesday night ride.

Three generations of bike riders were there -- from college kids through seniors, on whose shoulders, Rick says, the rest of them stand.

The kids helped cook burgers and I made the food (lower-fat broccoli and seven layer salads, broccoli slaw, orzo salad, corn salsa for chips and bezillions of cupcakes).

Kevin (in the blue shirt next to the pretty girl we adore called Molly) helped with the burgers and cleaning up the patio!

It was the Tour de Rick!

Joe was one of many who signed the poster.

Greg started sketching folks.

And finally Rick blew out a candle, we ate and everyone packed up and rode home!

So, what lies in store for his "real" birthday tonight? I guess we'll have to see, because I'm not scooping anything to the birthday boy who reads the blog!

Happy Birthday, Biker Boy. Just stay on that seat!