La Bay-enn-eff

Somewhere else I've been working lately is the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, the BNF, at their main Mitterand facility in the 13th district.

It's a huge building designed by Dominique Perrault fitting right into a country that built Versailles, the Champs de Mars, and so on: even though this is a clearly modernist building, its breathtaking scale and rigid geometry owe a lot to the French tradition of gargantuan monumentality. 

I joked with a friend about needing to bring some trail mix just to make it from my desk all the way to the washroom. But seriously, except for a few cathedrals and basilicas I don't think I've ever been anywhere with such a pharaonic sense of space. I imagine the endless lengths of steps leading from the sidewalks up to the podium intended for tens of thousands of good citizens to walk up at once, like a scene from a 1920s Russian movie, and the huge ceilings within the reading halls seem fit to fill with millions of volumes in some future millennium when the book-storage towers are full. 

Of course, the library's scale is meant to be more impressive than pragmatic, and if I find it a bit overwhelming and pompous, there is something nice about the generosity. The broad podium "deck" overlooking the Seine is a relief in such a dense city, and the tall ceilings in the reading rooms offer plenty of space for the mind to breath that preserves a certain calm even if the rooms are full. It also helps that the quality of finishes is actually pretty good for such a large public complex, with an attractive and simple balance of roughness and refinement (though I find it a tad too grey). 

(And for those of you who know of my recent adventure with another research library, the BNF's rules are just as cumbersome, but the staff's attitude at least is far more decent.)

The Musée Guimet

The Musée Guimet is a wonderful museum of Asian arts in the 16 district.  It began as the collection of a 19th-century industrialist from Lyon who travelled to Egypt and Asia collecting artifacts; the Egyptian artifacts eventually went to the Louvre, and the Asian collection here has been added to ever since. On the outside, it's a slightly strange Neoclassical building on a triangular site. The inside, however, is elegant and modern. The interior architecture is very well-integrated with the displays without overwhelming the amazing collection. What's more, the staff are quite friendly (!), and---unfortunately rare of the Parisian museums I've seen---the place is spotlessly clean (or "nickel," as they say in France). After the Louvre, this is the best museum I've seen in Paris so far, a surprising and refreshing complement to the Western masterpieces one naturally finds everywhere over here. I haven't checked out the whole museum yet, but I'm definitely returning.

Where I've been working

I thought I'd show a few photos of Cartes & plans (Maps & Plans) at the Archives nationales, where I've been doing a lot of research these past few weeks. 

Canadian Care Package

So my friend Russell (the owner of Papeterie Nota Bene, only Montreal's coolest purveyor of stationery) was in Paris on business last night, and we got together for dinner. He afterwards gave me an unexpected gift: A Canadian Care Package! 

A carefully thought-out collection of Canadian flavours and icons, the Care Package consists of:

1 (one) bottle of CC whiskey;

1 (one) bottle of pure maple syrup;

1 (one) Quebec flag fridge magnet;

1 (one) can of Tim Horton's ground coffee;

1 (one) package of poutine sauce mix;

1 (one) caribou sticker.

This is enough to put together a fun (and odd) little dinner party, eh?

Ed (finally) eats the Pig!

It's been a while since my experiment in internet democracy, and I do apologize for the delay in implementing the popular will. But at long last, I have purchased and enjoyed a "cochon," documenting the process for your enjoyment and enlightenment.

The victim:

Handsome twins, eh?

The first bite.

The desert is basically a small cake surrounded by a thick layer of pink paste/icing that's chewy-firm on the outside but still soft underneath. There was also a hot flavour somewhere in there (cinnamon? ginger?) that added a surprising kick to the sweet (maybe it's meant to be the piggy's revenge...).

Going...

... going...

... and gone! Yum!

La Villette

The Parc de la Villette was formerly the site of large abattoirs in north-eastern Paris. The park built on this site in the 1980s was designed by Bernard Tschumi as a much-discussed experiment in deconstructivist architecture. Whimsical red "follies" are located throughout the park, which also includes a variety of types of landscapes and some cultural institutions. An old industrial canal divides the park in two, and it also includes several cultural institutions and very successful urban square.

A Taste of Compiègne

Compiègne has another former royal hunting château. This one was beautifully renovated in the mid-18th century by Ange-Jacques Gabriel, the king's First Architect, who was in my opinion either one of history's most talented façade designers, or had wisely hired an architect with such a talent to work in his studio. The entrance court, for example, displays the same grace and flawless taste as many of his other buildings of that period (i.e. the Petit Trianon at Versailles, and the Hôtel de Crillon and the French Naval Ministry, the twin buildings on the north side of the Place de la Concorde).

Many rooms were later redecorated by Napoleon (speaking of taste, the Empress's Bedroom prefigures Vegas!). There is, of course, a large garden associated with the château, and the town itself is also quite attractive, with plenty of elegant 18th-century buildings and some interesting Gothic churches.