29 June 2011
Manifesting Pride
Before I write anything else: The Paris 2011 Pride parade had a wonderful, encouraging spirit, as do all gay pride parades. That everyone should be so lucky to live somewhere where these events can happen.
Watching the parade, I was struck by how relatively few drag queens there were, or even people just wearing something wild. I mean, hell-ooohh, we're in Paris! I was trying to figure out if my comparison between Paris pride and Canadian pride parades was fair, or if my memory was selective. But I honestly think that the events in Toronto in Montreal that I've seen had a higher proportion of, uh, costumes. That's not to say that there weren't great outfits in Paris---there were lots---but there was a hell of a lot of jeans-and-t-shirts going on, even on the floats!
Everyone was still energetic and passionate about being in the parade, though, and it occurred to me that maybe the French take the parade (or "marche") a little more seriously as a protest (or "manifestation") than us North Americans, for whom wild self-expression as itself a protest could be more important. So if North Americans (or at least, Canadians) emphasize a little more the individualist, self-asserting aspect of the parade, the French, true to spirit, lean a bit the other way (so to speak---!) in treating it as a mass movement. For instance, there were a LOT of people behind the Socialist float.
Or maybe Paris Pride is less important as a tourist event than many North American pride parades, and so the political/communal aspect is more prominent...
24 June 2011
21 June 2011
19 June 2011
17 June 2011
Dilapidated beauty
An hôtel particulier was a type of noble residence especially common in Paris before the Revolution. Its typical limestone street façade had a gate, a wall, and the ends of two side wings; behind the gate would be the entrance court with the main block of the mansion at the back. Most of the remaining hôtel particuliers are government ministries, museums, embassies, or apartment buildings; almost all, concentrated in the 7th and 8th districts, are restored and reasonably-maintained.
The dilapidated state of this hôtel's street front was hence quite striking. Crumbling plaster still covered the limestone, and yet I could see that the rest of the hôtel around the courtyard behind had been cleaned up. I imagine that at some point during the early 20th century, before the major program of Parisian façade polishing c. 1950s--60s, much more of Paris looked like this.
13 June 2011
Tour Jean-sans-Peur
I quite like Medieval things, so the other day I visited the Tour Jean-sans-Peur, a stair tower with little halls built in the early fifteenth century. It is the last surviving remnant of the Hôtel de Bourgogne, which was the enormous residence of the ducs de Bourgogne. One of these dukes, Jean-sans-Peur, assassinated his cousin and rival, and a few years later Fearless John built this mainly symbolic (rather than military) tower as he consolidated his power.
The tower is now next to a school courtyard with a little garden of its own in front.
The winding stone staircase.
Snowing eggs from heaven
Last night, I ate at Wepler, a classic brasserie on Place de Clichy. I started with a mousse de cabillaud safrané (fish gelatine with potatoes), then had filets de confit de canard, accompanied by a good white Bordeaux.
But finally came the dessert, which my friend, Jean, strongly recommended: Oeufs à la Neige. "Snow Eggs," with nuts and caramel sauce. As heavenly as it sounds...
10 June 2011
Cité de l'architecture moche
I visited the Cité de l'architecture & du patrimoine, Paris' architecture museum, the other day. It's located in the Palais de Chaillot, one of the pavilions built near the Eiffel Tower for the 1937 Universal Exposition. The museum itself exhibits mostly plaster casts of architectural fragments like archways, columns and sculptures, along with some well-made architectural models.
... Writing the above start to this post felt perfunctory, and I guess I am having trouble feeling very enthralled over the Cité. I can say that a lot of the objects there were perfectly interesting, especially anything relating to the Middle Ages, of which there was a lot. The main exhibition hall is arranged as a series of rooms, arrayed along the curving plan of the de Chaillot, memorably separated by casts of various medieval church doorways from all over France. The casts throughout are very good and capture a surprising amount of detail, while many of the small-scale models are also neat. But I don't know, there was so much stuff---of the same tawny plaster colour, no less---that most of it blurred together after a while. In their original contexts (i.e. provincial churches, etc.), those fragments would have more presence since they'd be more unique in their respective locations. Brought together in the Cité, they risked losing their definition, although each one was worthwhile. But then again, isn't this the problem with most museums, where only very good curation saves the collected objects from drowning in each-other?
... Writing the above start to this post felt perfunctory, and I guess I am having trouble feeling very enthralled over the Cité. I can say that a lot of the objects there were perfectly interesting, especially anything relating to the Middle Ages, of which there was a lot. The main exhibition hall is arranged as a series of rooms, arrayed along the curving plan of the de Chaillot, memorably separated by casts of various medieval church doorways from all over France. The casts throughout are very good and capture a surprising amount of detail, while many of the small-scale models are also neat. But I don't know, there was so much stuff---of the same tawny plaster colour, no less---that most of it blurred together after a while. In their original contexts (i.e. provincial churches, etc.), those fragments would have more presence since they'd be more unique in their respective locations. Brought together in the Cité, they risked losing their definition, although each one was worthwhile. But then again, isn't this the problem with most museums, where only very good curation saves the collected objects from drowning in each-other?
08 June 2011
07 June 2011
06 June 2011
Monet's Garden, or how Ed learned to love flowers and country houses.
I realized I needed a break from the city, so the other weekend I took the train and then, the bus to Giverny in Upper Normandy, to see Claude Monet's house and garden. This is the place where Monet lived for the last decades of his life, creating and reshaping two lovely gardens, the Clos Normand (roughly, the Norman Yard) and the Water Garden, that he painted in several series.
The Clos Normand is a very charming large flower garden filled with many varieties of flowers and, just as important to the effect, birdsong. Even though laid out by a great artist, it doesn't feel perfectly designed, and that looseness makes it all the more relaxing and agreeable.
05 June 2011
02 June 2011
Encounter at the Grand Palais
I visited Anish Kapoor's installation, titled Leviathan, for the Grand Palais' Monumenta exhibit, where a different artist each year is invited to contribute a temporary installation. Rather than analyze the piece, I'll just supplement the photos with a report on what it was like to be there.
From the outside, the Grand Palais is an broad wedding-cake from the late 1800s wrapped around a huge iron-and-glass roof (sorry I don't have a photo of the roof from the outside).
Through the lobby was a dark wall with revolving door, its windows tinted red.
The revolving door practically threw me into this:
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