5/7-8/14
MUSEUM TIME IN PARIS
On my way back home... So much happened in the last 4 days introducing me to different layers of Paris. Greg's past experience in Paris led some of the way for me and our mutual decision making on what to see, what to experience took us to such unexpected gems of Paris.
As soon as Greg arrived (can't believe he is not aware of the jet lag concept! Such a world traveler), we went to Musee D'Orsay, the house full of impressionistic art. The work of Sisly, Cezanne, Manet, Pissaro, but most of all, that of Monet and Van Gogh was phenomenal. We walk through history, almost in a chronological pattern absorbing all the vistas impressionists viewed for us and eternalized the beauty they encountered for the generations to come. The beauty in the people, the beauty in the nature, the beauty in the way people lived in the fields, in the dance salons, in the studios, on and on... I feel grateful for that. The grand station the musee once was is another architectural phenomenon to appreciate. We walk through history all around us and finally decide, it is time to feed poor Greg, who has not eaten for the entire day.
Van Gogh exhibition at the Louvre
We go to Cafe Les Deux Magots for lunch after this visual feast. We share a delicious salad. French drink wine day and night of course. Not being much of a drinker, I prefer drinking mint tea. They do have really nice mint tea, however, when they look at me when I order mint tea, what I read in their eyes is "what's wrong with you? In Paris, not wine and you will pay more?". It is true, your good old mint tea is more expensive than a glass of wine in Paris! I smile and place my order anyway. One thing I have been noticing almost constantly is that French waiters are no nonsense people. Few of them are friendly and talkative, but most some get the order in a rush, almost throw at you or the table two napkins, and do their job without caring for any additional human connection. Call it, American spoiledness, where waitstaff sometimes may be annoyingly friendly, I find it a bit odd. The waiter we have at Cafe Les Deux Magots is exactly of that kind. Two napkins are dropped onto the table, the salad plate that we will share is pushed inbetween us with no "excuse moi". Well, that love/hate relationship between French and Americans... We smile and enjoy our salad.
Musee D'Orsay was established in an old train station
After our lunch, we decide to do a walking tour of the St. Germaine neighborhood, which is one of the artsy sections of town with lots of galleries in the hinterland of the School of Fine Arts. The streets are lined with lots of shops and cafes and restaurants as well. Long lovely walk, Greg discovers hotels he had stayed at previously, restaurants he had eaten at, cafes he had visited... We enter cathedrals and absorb the peace, serenity, and beauty of each interior. I've always liked gothic style better: with its deep arches embracing one another, I find some kind of camaraderie in Gothic churches. That's what we find cathedral after cathedral in this medieval town. Although we spend some time to find the "Frog place" Greg looks for with great enthusiasm, finally, we decide to eat at a place that was established in 1686, medieval times! Le Procope, where multiple old timers had eaten and frequented. Now, it is an upscale place with lots of mirrors, expanding into the three elegant floors of this building. After a salad based salmon starter, Greg orders French style Chicken cooked in a heavy wine sauce. I order a "Beef cheek" dish, which turns out to be a version of the Turkish "haslama". Each dish comes in its own cooking apparatus: Greg's in a copper pot and mine in a clay pot. They are both beautiful and elegant. The waiter serves us a bit of our food by spooning it out of the pot himself. I see for teh first time in my life how juicy food is served in a spoon when a second spoon is carried under the first to capture driplings. No end to learning in this life!
The Louvre through the clock at Musee D'Orsay
We both feel this impromptu choice of dinner place was a great success and we are happy as we walk out of Le Procope and the historic district that has seen a lot from Bonapartist era to the revolution and aftermath. We walk back to our hotel, which is right across from Notre Dame. Notre Dam at night is a different spectacle. There are huge tents in front of the cathedral tonight and it looks like there is something about baking inside during the day time. we make a plan of stopping by in the morning. Sure enough, in the morning, the place is full of life with bakers, boulangiers, pattisiers, you name it. They are cooking right in front of us, some teaching children do the same. No wonder French cuisine is so spectacular all over the world. We are thrilled with this spectacle, me in love with cooking since my childhood, and Greg an emerging chef of the last several years... We buy some of their products, they taste delicious!
Le Procope and its brief history
Off we go to the Louvre. Among other things, there is a special exhibition on Van Gogh's work with interpretation by Artaud, who also had mental illness like Van Gogh. We immerse ourselves in it as the first thing to do. In addition to the beauty of the art we try to understand better how indeed, Van Gogh was left to his own devices other than being supported by his brother financially and from a long distance. I question one more time how Van Gogh's life could have changed had he had the connection he had expected from Gaugin. Although, I have carried this slight aversion toward Gaugin because of how Van Gogh deteriorated mentally after Gaugin's abandonment of Van Gogh, I also question myself one more time "how fare is it to expect a person to keep healthy another person? More so, how feasible is that? Haven't I seen enough examples of such failures unless the person wants to and is capable of keeping themselves on their own feet?" I try to come to peace with Gaugin's style and choices one more time settling with the question of "How much can one expect from others to help such a fragile mind, which most likely would have refused any help to be given by the society as well?". As much as I enjoy the visual work, I am left with more questions than answers on how Van Gogh's life ended after several brief decades.
The Louvre from Musee D'Orsay
Then, we start chasing one masterpiece after the other. Greg has the map and is guiding us through the very complicated sketch of the Louvre, which once was a palace for the kingdom before Luis XIV decided to move to Versailles. Many pieces from antiquity, including Venus de Milo, the Ancient Greek sculpture depicting Aphrodite, Parthenon frieze and Athena in the Gallery of Statues, Winged Victory of Samothrace, Michalengelo's timeless sculptures of slaves... Then we move to the renaissance era where we see mostly 2 dimensional pieces of biblical legends' depictions along with mostly chartered paintings of kings and critical individuals including the Madonna of the Angels from 1200s, Leonardo da Vinci's Virgin, child and St. Anne and Rafael's La Belle Jardiniere and finally infamous Mona Lisa, all from 1500s... Again, for both of us, the most impressive section is impressionism. More Monet, Manet, Pissaro, Sisly, Cezanne, Van Gogh, Gaugin and others... What a feast. Greg proposes to go to the Musee de L'Orangerie, too, where we will see more Monet, especially his water lilies.
Baking festival in front of Notre Dame
Before that though, we want to find a restaurant where Scott Fitzgerald had eaten frequently. We find the address, alas, the restaurant is now gone. We walk toward the corner, voila, there is a tucked in cafe under a deep owning to protect us from the rain but also to allow us do people watching, which seems like we both like to do. Not only that, I am glad to discover that Greg is also into chatting up people around us. He has talked to the receptionists at the hotel quite a few times and established a lovely connection with especially Francisco, who is clearly an intellect with great curiosity about many things in life. It is fun to chat with him. Once we are well-fed with healthy salad and soup, we head toward Musee de L'Orangerie. We have to wait in line, under a drizzling rain, slightly chilly, but we survive. In about half an hour, we conquer the line and are in. In addition to several pieces by Monet and other impressionists, this small museum has a dedicated oval room, the four curvilinear long walls of which are dedicated to 4 water lilies from Monet's gardens, clearly painted for this place. Greg tells me, he had become a famous painter while he was alive, which will become clear when we go to Giverny to visit his house and gardens. I can't wait till I get there after having been exposed to so much of impressionistic work.
Michalengelo's Slaves at the Louvre
For our evening, we head toward Monmartre. Greg clearly likes Monmartre and from my brief visit with Teresa and Gustino a few days ago, I can see why. It is such an eclectic and vibrant place. This time we approach the hill top on which Monmartre is situated from the east; Greg walks me through a park that spirals up the hill. Sacre Coure is another spectacle at dusk. We look for places that Greg had visited before again, some we locate after so many years of his visit and discover some had disappeared just like the restaurant Scott Fitzgerald had frequented. On the way to the top, we locate a few places that look promising for a place to eat. And one has music, too, "Le Cremaillere Cabaret". Greg takes me to a small park at the cliff end of which, the sheer wall is covered with a huge plaque which displays "I love you" in hundreds of languages. Apparently, the city of Paris had funded a project to celebrate the diversity in the city through what Paris is best known for! What a becoming project and product. We search the entire surface twice until we find it in English and Turkish.
Phototaking of the beautiful lillies by Monet is forbidden
Finally, we do settle down at the newfound cabaret. We are pleasantly surprised to find a "Frenk" "Frank Sinatra" singing with a beautiful voice and style across the attractive place as the customers dine. Soon enough, we discover there is a table back with French customers, who are able to join the singer with his French songs: the most romantic and acoustically beautiful language on earth is French, proven one more time in my mind. The French customers join in the singing a lot of times when the singer generously hands the microphone to one or more of them as he entertains that area.
Next to us is a table with an American family, the woman is quite bubbly, her husband very stoic, he barely smiles at what is going on around when his wife can barely contain herself in her seat. All of a sudden our Sinatra starts singing a most wonderful romantic song. I know my reserved friend will never call me to dance, but I can; if he accepts my invitation or not will be his choice. and he does, too! It is great to enjoy this beautiful music in this very friendly, cosy, embracing place when people around us solely enjoy that we are enjoying ourselves. With the next song, the American lady can not contain herself any more, she gets up to dance by herself to start with and ends up pulling the singer to dance with her! And he does manage both singing and dancing with his customer, how sweet... We end our evening by sitting at a small cafe at the foot of Sacre Cour and enjoy the view of the monumental structure in the night. Although, brand new compared to everything else we have seen and thus lacks the elegance of other structures, this place also has its own grandeur over the highest place around Paris with a different type of command over the city... That one needs to salute, and we do, too.
MUSEUM TIME IN PARIS
On my way back home... So much happened in the last 4 days introducing me to different layers of Paris. Greg's past experience in Paris led some of the way for me and our mutual decision making on what to see, what to experience took us to such unexpected gems of Paris.
As soon as Greg arrived (can't believe he is not aware of the jet lag concept! Such a world traveler), we went to Musee D'Orsay, the house full of impressionistic art. The work of Sisly, Cezanne, Manet, Pissaro, but most of all, that of Monet and Van Gogh was phenomenal. We walk through history, almost in a chronological pattern absorbing all the vistas impressionists viewed for us and eternalized the beauty they encountered for the generations to come. The beauty in the people, the beauty in the nature, the beauty in the way people lived in the fields, in the dance salons, in the studios, on and on... I feel grateful for that. The grand station the musee once was is another architectural phenomenon to appreciate. We walk through history all around us and finally decide, it is time to feed poor Greg, who has not eaten for the entire day.
We go to Cafe Les Deux Magots for lunch after this visual feast. We share a delicious salad. French drink wine day and night of course. Not being much of a drinker, I prefer drinking mint tea. They do have really nice mint tea, however, when they look at me when I order mint tea, what I read in their eyes is "what's wrong with you? In Paris, not wine and you will pay more?". It is true, your good old mint tea is more expensive than a glass of wine in Paris! I smile and place my order anyway. One thing I have been noticing almost constantly is that French waiters are no nonsense people. Few of them are friendly and talkative, but most some get the order in a rush, almost throw at you or the table two napkins, and do their job without caring for any additional human connection. Call it, American spoiledness, where waitstaff sometimes may be annoyingly friendly, I find it a bit odd. The waiter we have at Cafe Les Deux Magots is exactly of that kind. Two napkins are dropped onto the table, the salad plate that we will share is pushed inbetween us with no "excuse moi". Well, that love/hate relationship between French and Americans... We smile and enjoy our salad.
After our lunch, we decide to do a walking tour of the St. Germaine neighborhood, which is one of the artsy sections of town with lots of galleries in the hinterland of the School of Fine Arts. The streets are lined with lots of shops and cafes and restaurants as well. Long lovely walk, Greg discovers hotels he had stayed at previously, restaurants he had eaten at, cafes he had visited... We enter cathedrals and absorb the peace, serenity, and beauty of each interior. I've always liked gothic style better: with its deep arches embracing one another, I find some kind of camaraderie in Gothic churches. That's what we find cathedral after cathedral in this medieval town. Although we spend some time to find the "Frog place" Greg looks for with great enthusiasm, finally, we decide to eat at a place that was established in 1686, medieval times! Le Procope, where multiple old timers had eaten and frequented. Now, it is an upscale place with lots of mirrors, expanding into the three elegant floors of this building. After a salad based salmon starter, Greg orders French style Chicken cooked in a heavy wine sauce. I order a "Beef cheek" dish, which turns out to be a version of the Turkish "haslama". Each dish comes in its own cooking apparatus: Greg's in a copper pot and mine in a clay pot. They are both beautiful and elegant. The waiter serves us a bit of our food by spooning it out of the pot himself. I see for teh first time in my life how juicy food is served in a spoon when a second spoon is carried under the first to capture driplings. No end to learning in this life!
The Louvre through the clock at Musee D'Orsay
We both feel this impromptu choice of dinner place was a great success and we are happy as we walk out of Le Procope and the historic district that has seen a lot from Bonapartist era to the revolution and aftermath. We walk back to our hotel, which is right across from Notre Dame. Notre Dam at night is a different spectacle. There are huge tents in front of the cathedral tonight and it looks like there is something about baking inside during the day time. we make a plan of stopping by in the morning. Sure enough, in the morning, the place is full of life with bakers, boulangiers, pattisiers, you name it. They are cooking right in front of us, some teaching children do the same. No wonder French cuisine is so spectacular all over the world. We are thrilled with this spectacle, me in love with cooking since my childhood, and Greg an emerging chef of the last several years... We buy some of their products, they taste delicious!
Off we go to the Louvre. Among other things, there is a special exhibition on Van Gogh's work with interpretation by Artaud, who also had mental illness like Van Gogh. We immerse ourselves in it as the first thing to do. In addition to the beauty of the art we try to understand better how indeed, Van Gogh was left to his own devices other than being supported by his brother financially and from a long distance. I question one more time how Van Gogh's life could have changed had he had the connection he had expected from Gaugin. Although, I have carried this slight aversion toward Gaugin because of how Van Gogh deteriorated mentally after Gaugin's abandonment of Van Gogh, I also question myself one more time "how fare is it to expect a person to keep healthy another person? More so, how feasible is that? Haven't I seen enough examples of such failures unless the person wants to and is capable of keeping themselves on their own feet?" I try to come to peace with Gaugin's style and choices one more time settling with the question of "How much can one expect from others to help such a fragile mind, which most likely would have refused any help to be given by the society as well?". As much as I enjoy the visual work, I am left with more questions than answers on how Van Gogh's life ended after several brief decades.
Then, we start chasing one masterpiece after the other. Greg has the map and is guiding us through the very complicated sketch of the Louvre, which once was a palace for the kingdom before Luis XIV decided to move to Versailles. Many pieces from antiquity, including Venus de Milo, the Ancient Greek sculpture depicting Aphrodite, Parthenon frieze and Athena in the Gallery of Statues, Winged Victory of Samothrace, Michalengelo's timeless sculptures of slaves... Then we move to the renaissance era where we see mostly 2 dimensional pieces of biblical legends' depictions along with mostly chartered paintings of kings and critical individuals including the Madonna of the Angels from 1200s, Leonardo da Vinci's Virgin, child and St. Anne and Rafael's La Belle Jardiniere and finally infamous Mona Lisa, all from 1500s... Again, for both of us, the most impressive section is impressionism. More Monet, Manet, Pissaro, Sisly, Cezanne, Van Gogh, Gaugin and others... What a feast. Greg proposes to go to the Musee de L'Orangerie, too, where we will see more Monet, especially his water lilies.
Before that though, we want to find a restaurant where Scott Fitzgerald had eaten frequently. We find the address, alas, the restaurant is now gone. We walk toward the corner, voila, there is a tucked in cafe under a deep owning to protect us from the rain but also to allow us do people watching, which seems like we both like to do. Not only that, I am glad to discover that Greg is also into chatting up people around us. He has talked to the receptionists at the hotel quite a few times and established a lovely connection with especially Francisco, who is clearly an intellect with great curiosity about many things in life. It is fun to chat with him. Once we are well-fed with healthy salad and soup, we head toward Musee de L'Orangerie. We have to wait in line, under a drizzling rain, slightly chilly, but we survive. In about half an hour, we conquer the line and are in. In addition to several pieces by Monet and other impressionists, this small museum has a dedicated oval room, the four curvilinear long walls of which are dedicated to 4 water lilies from Monet's gardens, clearly painted for this place. Greg tells me, he had become a famous painter while he was alive, which will become clear when we go to Giverny to visit his house and gardens. I can't wait till I get there after having been exposed to so much of impressionistic work.
For our evening, we head toward Monmartre. Greg clearly likes Monmartre and from my brief visit with Teresa and Gustino a few days ago, I can see why. It is such an eclectic and vibrant place. This time we approach the hill top on which Monmartre is situated from the east; Greg walks me through a park that spirals up the hill. Sacre Coure is another spectacle at dusk. We look for places that Greg had visited before again, some we locate after so many years of his visit and discover some had disappeared just like the restaurant Scott Fitzgerald had frequented. On the way to the top, we locate a few places that look promising for a place to eat. And one has music, too, "Le Cremaillere Cabaret". Greg takes me to a small park at the cliff end of which, the sheer wall is covered with a huge plaque which displays "I love you" in hundreds of languages. Apparently, the city of Paris had funded a project to celebrate the diversity in the city through what Paris is best known for! What a becoming project and product. We search the entire surface twice until we find it in English and Turkish.
Finally, we do settle down at the newfound cabaret. We are pleasantly surprised to find a "Frenk" "Frank Sinatra" singing with a beautiful voice and style across the attractive place as the customers dine. Soon enough, we discover there is a table back with French customers, who are able to join the singer with his French songs: the most romantic and acoustically beautiful language on earth is French, proven one more time in my mind. The French customers join in the singing a lot of times when the singer generously hands the microphone to one or more of them as he entertains that area.
Next to us is a table with an American family, the woman is quite bubbly, her husband very stoic, he barely smiles at what is going on around when his wife can barely contain herself in her seat. All of a sudden our Sinatra starts singing a most wonderful romantic song. I know my reserved friend will never call me to dance, but I can; if he accepts my invitation or not will be his choice. and he does, too! It is great to enjoy this beautiful music in this very friendly, cosy, embracing place when people around us solely enjoy that we are enjoying ourselves. With the next song, the American lady can not contain herself any more, she gets up to dance by herself to start with and ends up pulling the singer to dance with her! And he does manage both singing and dancing with his customer, how sweet... We end our evening by sitting at a small cafe at the foot of Sacre Cour and enjoy the view of the monumental structure in the night. Although, brand new compared to everything else we have seen and thus lacks the elegance of other structures, this place also has its own grandeur over the highest place around Paris with a different type of command over the city... That one needs to salute, and we do, too.
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| I love you in hundreds of languages in Monmartre |
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