my giant observer

Friday, May 13, 2011: Paris

It's Friday night, and Louis is watching a movie in French right now. He doesn’t understand a single word, but is absolutely riveted. Every so often, he hands me a few gems:

“Do you know who Jean Reno is? He’s like this pimp.”

“This movie is amazing.”

“I think I could pick up French pretty fast.”

Louis also randomly repeats a French word said in the movie. I don’t recognize it.

I don’t know what the movie is, but there’s blood and gore and it’s freaking me out.

Me: Louis, I don’t like scary movies.

Louis: Okay, I’ll turn down the volume.

He turns it down to silent. After I tell him there can be some volume, he turns it back up and assures me it’s almost over. (Somehow he knows this.) Maybe Louis will be the American version of international audiences that pick up English by watching Friends or (in this case) some Godfather-like movie.

Ed and Jenn's walking tour

Friday, May 13, 2011: Paris

Next, we walked and stopped and walked some more....

Another park where there was no sitting on the grass permitted, but ample seating provided for those who wished to stop and enjoy.

The only place in the world where the water slopes downhill (aka, a really good optical illusion).

The Pantheon

Ed had lived in the Latin Quarter while he studied in Paris. His thought on the Parisian study system was that, unlike most other European countries, most Parisians had no desire to study or live abroad. The highest calling for many citizens is that of public service in France. The schooling is very regimented and involves a structured method of theory and argument. We visited his old school (not pictured) and his old apartment (below).

A sight you would never see in the United States. Awesome.

Gelato in Ile Saint-Louis. Notice Louis looking back in envy at my ice cream.

An area where we could sit on the grass. Ed took a nap here.

Centre Pompidou, which was built with the structural components exposed on the outside (in effect, the building is inside out). Obviously this was another controversial structure for Parisians.

Nice.

Very nice.

Musee Rodin

Friday, May 13, 2011: Paris

Our next stop was the Musee Rodin. The building originally served as Rodin's workshop during his lifetime, and the building and grounds were converted to a museum upon his death (per his request upon donating his sculptures to France). As a result, the location of the museum is in the heart of Paris and was an exquisite sight.

Rodin was known for his realistic presentation of the human body, which extended to the clothing and expressions worn by his characters. We first toured the grounds outside the museum, where the bronze sculptures by Rodin were displayed in the open, which enabled visitors to go directly up to the structures and touch (and pose) at will.

My pose set off a slew of copycat poses from other tourists. Loved it.

The above three pictures show The Gates of Hell, which Rodin worked on for 37 years up to his death. It is incredibly intricate and repeats some of the characters in some of Rodin's other work.

The Thinker, probably Rodin's most recognizable piece of work.

He's pretty ripped.

The Kiss

Monet's water lilies and other deep thoughts

Friday, May 13, 2011: Paris

While we were trip planning, we relied heavily on the input of friends and family members. Jenn and Ed were two such key people. Ed had lived in the Latin Quarter while studying in Paris. Jenn had traveled extensively in Europe and had very specific recommendations. (Love that.) We set aside Friday to explore Paris in "Jenn and Ed's ideal day." After two hectic days, it was nice to let two quasi-natives lead us through their vision of the city on our final day in Paris (sad).

We started our day at the Musee de l'Orangerie. The featured works of art were Claude Monet's water lily murals. The large murals were displayed in two large oval shaped rooms on the ground floor. The understated presentation, natural lighting and minimalist backdrop of the museum walls were designed to let the murals speak for themselves.

Each of the murals was distinct in its own way. It was very cool how, when approaching the mural from one side, the perspective and shadows of the objects (the trees, the water) seemed to shift and change, as they would in reality.

In one of the murals (the one directly above and below), there is a dark shadow over the side of the water. At first, it just seems this shadow is a spot of darker murky water. But then, after looking at it for awhile, we started to notice the outline of the specific branches and leaves of the tree being reflected off the water. It was startling, and amazing. These pictures don't really do it justice. For the record, this painting was Jenn and Lou's favorite.

My favorite mural was the one above. I loved how the mural conveyed the depth and layers of the water. When I was younger, when I would play in the woods and near swamps, the depths of the water were always so mystifying and uncertain to me. Even up close, looking in, I always got a sense of tension and mystery looking into the water, as though the water had a life and story all its own. This painting was reminiscent of that feeling for me. It reminded me of the sense of unknown in our childhood. It's funny how a painting completed a hundred years ago still brings the sense that I can relate to in the current day.

A view of one of the water lilies up close and then further out. 

Does this remind anyone else of the Clueless quote?

the Grand Palais and the BPB

Thursday, May 12, 2011: Paris


We met cousin Jenn in the evening and headed to the Grand Palais, an exhibition hall. The Grand Palais had asked the artist Anish Kapoor to design a structure specifically for showcase in the Grand Palais, and it was currently being featured during the May-June window. We waited in a long line (good sign) outside the building to buy our tickets. At some point, someone came outside the museum and told us we would be unable to see the interior of the structure between 8 and 9pm due to a concert being held in the structure. We were not exactly sure what that meant, but went with it.


When we got inside, we were led directly into a revolving door through which emerged this sight:

There was an artist playing music that could only be described as high-pitched chanting (mood music). He was also swaying and holding a glass of wine. At one point, the musician ventured into the crowd and started singing towards the crowd and touching random people on the shoulders and swaying to the music (I was afraid the wine glass would spill on spectators).


It was really trippy.


Initially, we thought this was Anish Kapoor, and he was singing to us, or somehow presenting us the chosen music for the structure. Eventually, we figured out that no, this was the concert, which was not related to the Kapoor exhibit. I'm not sure we were supposed to be there, but hey, free concert everybody.


At some point, the concert got a bit too abstract for us, and we left. However, as we were leaving, we saw the door that we were probably supposed to go into in the first place, and through this door emerged this sight:

The structure was officially named the Leviathan. We affectionately named it the Big Purple Blob. It was quite fascinating to us. Kapoor and his team had built this structure in a separate warehouse. It was designed to be inflatable, which is how they transferred it to the Grand Palais. We were allowed to go right up to the structure. It felt like a kickball. From these pictures, it is difficult to see the enormity of the structure, but given the size, I think that's understandable.

For some reason, the camera refuses to focus on anything but the Big Purple Blob ("BPB"). Therefore, all humans and earthly items remain out of focus.

A good view of the beautiful Grand Palais... and the Big Purple Blob.

Jenn made a great video on her phone of Louis standing far away from the blob and then slowly coming up close enough to the camera until his head is big enough to obscure the BPB. She'll have to post it on YouTube for posterity. We also took a series of pictures that showed the same sequence. This would make a great gift for art collectors. I guess Kapoor's work inspired the artist in all of us.

Saint Chapelle

Thursday, May 12, 2011: Paris


Saint Chapelle is considered one of the most beautiful churches in Paris. We did not go in for two reasons: (1) every time we passed the church, it was either closed for lunch or the line was very long, and (2) we had seen Sacre-Coeur the day before, and Notre Dame that same morning. In other words, we were a bit church'ed out for the particular 24-hour period.


However, we walked past the church on two occassions and caught a beautiful shot. 

locks

Thursday, May 12, 2011: Paris


During our walks, we passed over two different bridges with an interesting tradition: locks.


There was a huge collection of locks that were latched to these gated bridges. It was a very urban-looking tradition in an otherwise traditional city. Most of the locks had identifying information (a couple's initials) or a little message and a date on them.

Thoughts:

(1) The locks seemed like the Parisian bridge version of graffiti. We wondered if the bridge reflected all the locks that had collected since the beginning of the tradition, or whether the Parisian authorities periodically cut off the locks, only for them to be replaced.


(2) Most of the locks had a past date on them. However, a few of the locks were forward-dated (we thought maybe it was an upcoming wedding date?). The oldest lock we saw on one of the bridges dated to 2007. We thought it'd be a pretty crazy Amazing Race challenge to find the oldest lock on the bridge.


(3) It would be brilliant if this tradition had been started by MasterLock or some other lock company.... almost on par with the Hallmark "Sweetest Day"or Smirnoff "You've been iced" movements. 

beef tartare anyone?

Thursday, May 12, 2011: Paris


Our lunch break was commenced by a proclamation to eat somewhere off of the beaten path (especially as so many of the restaurants in the vicinity of the Notre Dame seem so touristy - i.e. a lot of english being spoken by American and British tourists). So, after meandering our way through the streets just south of the Seine / Notre Dame, we settled on a nice little cafe on the corner of two fairly busy streets.

Everyone seemed to be French and thus we were fairly happy right off of the bat. Adding to this was the relaxed atmosphere of the place. We sat in a table right on the edge of the patio and got the best of both worlds; the breeze and natural sunlight of being outside; while preserving some shade for myself and my bald dome (which had absorbed plenty of UV rays already and we were only two days in). 

About 30 minutes into our sit down, it was finally time to order. Christina asked me what I was going to get. I indicated that the 'Steak Tartare' looked really good and Christina noted that she was thinking the same thing. Note to self, it is always good as a couple to order separate entrees. Disregarding this advice, we ordered the aforementioned delicacy (hint, hint).

Probably about forty five minutes later (yes, this place highly respected the time-honored French tradition of not rushing lunch), I saw our waitress appear with two plates that appeared to contain piles of raw meat. At this moment, in my head I was saying 'Oh sh*#, please don't let that be ours'. A quick glance around the restaurant confirmed that all other customers already received their meals... I think the best description for what was placed in front of me is going to the grocery store, purchasing a package of ground sirloin, opening it up and turning it over on to a plate. I immediately began to wonder if this was some sort of joke amongst the restaurant staff that they enjoy playing on Americans. Nonetheless, we soldiered through the meal thanks to the assistance of a large quantity of dijon mustard mixed with onions placed on the table alongside the seemingly just slaughtered beef. Note, however, mustard does not cook raw beef.

Admittedly, I'm a headcase. So, I spent the next couple of hours/days convincing myself that eating the beef did not represent the ceremonial ignition of a wick of e-coli dynamite in my stomach. Christina handled it much better than I. While we shared numerous laughs throughout, she ate more than I did and never hinted at having even a remotely similar fear as I did that the hands of the doomsday clock of my stomach were moved to midnight upon completion of the meal. Thank you, Christina, for keeping me calm. Without you, I may have finished the meal (or maybe I wouldn't have even been brave enough to take a bite), paid the bill, and ran to the bathroom (further explanation not considered necessary).

Seeing as that our server took a few smoke breaks, disappeared numerous times, and was generally pretty lax, we were at the cafe for about three hours. Upon settling the bill, we had to make our way back to the hotel for a quick break before meeting up with Jenn! More to follow!