Not too much news 11-5-15

Today was the day I had to get my permanent crown so I went early to the dentist, while Deb cleaned the apartment.   Afterwards I went to a brocante at the Bourse, nothing to report and not much of interest.  
After a sandwich I went over to Drouout to see if the auctions held any great finds, nada.  So I came home late in  the day.
In the evening we went to an art opening that we had been invited to, but not wanting to take our ploucdom to new levels of gauche I didn't take a camera.   So all in all not much to report.

So Much More than just a Pretty Face - Vigee-Lebrun 11-4-15

It was the first exhibition of Elizabeth Vigee-Lebrun in Europe ever and the first public exhibition anywhere since 1984, and that was in the U.S.  I sure don't know why, because she is a first rate painter.   We were aware of her from our Colorado art history research, as it was she for whom the first association of Colorado women artists was named.  We've seen her works, in the Louvre and in the Jacquemart-Andre but it's hard to judge from a sampling of two.  But this exhibition in the Grand Palais is just superb, it really allows one to see just how accomplished she was.  Her artististic outpouring came from the 1780's thru the 1840's and encompassed the court of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette as well as Catherine the Great of Russia, and the Habsburgs of Austria all of who's courts she painted in.  



She had to flee the French Revolution due to the fact that she was the designated portrait painter for Marie-Antoinette and thus tarred with a very dirty brush at that time.  So she spent 12 years travelling around to the courts of Europe supporting herself and her daughter very nicely on the proceeds from the portraits she painted of the leading nobility from various royal courts.



She was able to return to France after the excesses of the revolution had played out and Napoleon was in power.   She is beautiful herself and her talent for making her sitters very appealing as well is not to be denied.
After the exhibition we walked by Sotheby's and on a whim went in to have a look, very high end stuff and an auction going on which was great sport to see.

It Had to Happen Eventually - Musee Picasso 11-3-15

Well it had to happen eventually, we made a trip to the Musee Picasso today.  They have been celebrating an anniversary of their founding and have mounted an exhibition celebrating their founding in 1985 (30 yrs).

Jacqueline Portrait

We took one of our bus routes down to within a couple blocks and walked over but when we went in the gateway to the courtyard there must have been 100 people in line waiting to get in.  Since we had not pre-purchased our tickets we decided to take stock.  We told the line monitor that we were going to lunch to consider our options, his response, "great idea, bon appetite" so we walked across the street and ordered a couple hot drinks.  A tisane for Deb and hot chocolate for me while we formed a new plan for the day since neither of us wanted to stand in a long line.  After we finished we walked back to see where we could pre-purchase tickets, when low and behold the line was gone!  So we walked right in.
The museum is large for a single artist so it took us the rest of the afternoon to walk all the way through.  Deb was a bit put off because they didn't really follow a chronological order that we could discern, but it didn't make it less interesting just harder to understand his evolution as a painter.

1951 cityscape

Still Life on Rattan 

But to be fair they seemed to be presenting his evolution within movements of which he was the avant garde.  So we had his early more conventional painting, the blue and rose periods, and then branched quickly into his forays into african-tribal influences, cubism, surrealism, and then abstraction.  It was interesting to see that as he got older he still really experimented but he also mellowed and in the 50's he was painting things that we in Colorado would readily recognize and identify with.

Rosenberg Portrait/Paintings

There was one contemporary installation that was quite moving, especially if you've seen or read, "The Monuments Men" or "The Rape of Europa" about the theft by the Nazis of artwork from all over Europe.  They focused on Jews but not exclusively, this shows a Picasso portrait of the wife and child of Paul Rosenberg, an early supporter and collector, and all the paintings that were confiscated from him during WWII and before, some of which have never been returned.  It's quite chilling if you're a collector.

Taureau Plate

Portrait of Dora Maar

Like his relationships with women, even though he respected them, he had relationships with other artists that would blow hot for a while and then die out.  It was interesting to find out that his private art collection of other artists has more Renoir than any other artist, especially in light of the recent groundswell against Renoir. Then followed by Matisse, who along with him were the most influential artists of their period. Many of his late paintings were quite reminiscent of Matisse. Of course Cezanne was dead by then but he was highly respected by Picasso as well.

I don't think we're in Paris anymore Toto 11-2-15

It was a very foggy day in Paris this morning and somehow it transferred over to my mapping skills. Deb suggested we go to the Musee Dapper, a museum dedicated to African tribal art and considered to be one of the top museums for this type of art in the world. She didn't know exactly where it was but compared to her I was playing pin the tail on the donkey, BADLY!
I looked it up online and got the address, rue Paul Valery, so I looked it up on a tablet app I have that will give the metro, bus, car, and bicycle routes and timing.  I found it and because it was kind of complicated I wrote it all down.  What I neglected to notice that the rue Paul Valery that I had accessed was clear to hell and gone down to the south of Paris, not in the 16th arr. close to the Arc de Triumph as it should have been.  So we jumped on the Metro and transferred to the RER C train and at the first stop I said, "wait a sec, this doesn't seem right" but I looked at my instructions and at the route map and everything corresponded.  So we kept on going, about 30 minutes south and in no way, shape, or form were we going to get to this museum on that route.  So a quick executive council was held and we got on a train going back into town.  So about an hour later we walked up to the front door of the museum and thoroughly enjoyed it.
Many of the objects on exhibit were collected in the early 20th century and are outstanding specimens of the genre.   There are ritual dolls, masks, funerary items, a couple textiles, some metal sculpture, weapons, etc.  It's a small museum but very high quality.
The takeaway from this little entry is to check the city as well as the street and next time I will.  Did I mention that it was foggy and that we still enjoyed the little train ride?

Winter is Coming... But NOT Today 11-1-15

Today was the sort of day I wanted everyday this year, it was the sort of day that exists as the ultimate Paris day.  The sun was out, it was warm, but not hot.  If I could have this sort of day everyday I'd be one happy camper, with one exception.
Since it was so nice we headed off to one of our favorite brocante sales, at the Porte de Vanves. It's down in the southwest part of the city and is held every Saturday and Sunday.   We spent about an hour and a half looking through the market being interested in what was on offer.  At one point I walked down a side alley where there must have been 25 or 30 little vendors set up, usually these are just people who have bought a bunch of junk at other sales and are trying to sell them for a profit, but most of these people had really nice stuff to sell so it was more fun.   As I got to the end and was turning back to go along the other side I heard a police siren (one blast), suddenly all of these vendors were grabbing their stuff and packing them into bags and duffels and boxes and whatever.  It turns out that they just set up without paying any required fee and thus were illegal so the police were rousting them.
Anyway we stayed until the vendors were packing up and then decided to go to lunch.  Since we were so close to our favorite guinguette, Javel, we decided to go there and sit next to the Seine in the sun and have lunch.  That's when the cloud appeared, evidently at the end of the outdoor season they close and literally all the building were GONE!  They were constructed of plywood and when the season ended they were torn down and carted off and the place reverted to being a parking lot, bummer.   So we got back on the tram and went back to where our last walk ended, at Parc Montsouris and found a little corner restaurant that was packed to the limit for lunch.
We had a very nice lunch of swordfish (for me) and dorade royal (for Deb) along with a carafe of Muscadet.  As lunch finished we noticed a bunch of police blocking off the street across from us and suddenly there was a pack of two or three hundred in-line skaters gliding up the road, past the restaurant, and up the hill.  Many in costume and all having a great time, very crazy.
We went into the park to walk in the sunshine and across it to the other side so that we could go the the Cite International Universitaire de Paris.  It is a series of building from the 1930's each one built by a different company to house international students from that country studying in Paris.  It was an attempt to further the "league of nations" idea after World War I.  What's funny is that there are not any classes offered just housing for students studying abroad.  My understanding is that one can rent a room during the summer at very inexpensive rates, when the students are gone.
Anyway there hundreds of people out in the commons engaging in happy sunny fall games and sunbathing.
We took the tram back to the apartment as the sun was going down.

Deb Wants Inquiring Minds to Know 10-31-15

Another set of random thoughts from Deb, this time from Berlin, Prague, Cesky Krumlov and Vienna.

*My gosh, the Germans are tall! I know I'm getting even shorter as I age, but there were high school girls half a head taller than Warren. Made me long for my far-away days of being a tall blonde in India...

*Besides being beautiful architecturally, with one charming building after another, Prague (Praha) is so clean. It was a pleasant change to not have to watch so carefully where one walks, or would have done had the cobblestones not been so challenging. Made me wonder how my dear friend Charla got around in this, her favorite city. She has a fair amount of foot trouble, and has earned my eternal gratitude this year for having introduced me to Arcopedico shoes in time for this year of non-stop walking.

*My impression is that sausages are to the Germanic countries the way cheeses are to France. In our travels here we've eaten dozens of kinds, in varieties of preparations. Just in time for World Health Organization to state that preserved meats contribute to cancer. But Warren maintains that enough beer will kill any possible cancers. (I'm not sure he doesn't have a hidden agenda.) I do wonder, though, if preserved meats are so bad, why cancer isn't rampant in Germany, Austria and the Czech Republic? Wonder if they put the same things in theirs? Don't know.

*It's fall now and all sorts of mushrooms are appearing in the markets, most of them new to me. I'll be trying more of them and probably preparing them incorrectly, but, hey, how bad can any mushroom be sauteed in fresh butter? Saw some today called "Trumpets of Death", just in time for Halloween, which, by the way is very popular in France. Don't think those mushrooms are likely fatal, but I could check by taking some to our local drugstore. Pharmacists in  France identify mushrooms for safe consumption. It's an especially important protection this time of year, when the woods are full of people meandering with baskets and long walking sticks, stalking the wily, wild mushroom.

*We had virtually no sunshine on our Berlin/Prague/Vienna trip, but loved seeing the beautiful rolling countryside from our trains. The damp fields are being turned and plowed for new winter crops. Some of the plots are newly green with vibrant new growth.  I have no idea what the plantings are, and my language skills in this part of the world wouldn't have allowed for an explanation anyway. Noticed the large size of the fields in the Czech Republic compared to Germany and Austria and wondered if it reflected the communist history. There were hunting blinds all over at the edge of the frequent forests, and their object, some lovely smallish deer, could be spotted out unrepentantly pillaging the fields. Also spotted from the trains: hawks of various colors, crows with varieties of grey markings, a huge swooping owl  and more domestically, flocks of pudgy white turkeys, grey geese and multicolored ducks and chickens.Often a cat in a field of grass, scowling at the train and slurking away disgustedly from a disturbed hunt.

*Those who learned to read in the early 1950's might recognize the phrase "Cookies, cookies, cookies, said Susan." a phrase that became a joke in my family when, after having to read that
sentence aloud,  I solemnly told my parents that my first grade reading texts were for "morons", a term I'd picked up from my college-aged brother and sister. Nonetheless, I developed quite a sympathy for old Susan while on our trip. Only the objects were dumplings. Dumplings, dumplings, dumplings, said Deb. Dumplings in every shape and type, and with every meal. Sadly, most were too subtle, bland and heavy for my taste. I longed for my decadent baguettes. France has corrupted me.

*Warren shone with his language skills on this trip. His rudimentary German got us around quite nicely, and kept me from ordering a variety of regrettable choices. And his few Czech words were an instant hit every time he used them. He would get a grin from the grumpiest looking shopkeeper with his greeting, and couple of polite phrases. Czech is hard! I only managed a couple of words (although please and thank you are arguably the two most important in any language). Warren cleverly got our cute little waitress to write a couple of phrases for him, which he then trotted out on appropriate occasions to certain applause. Good on Warren!

*It was a culture shock to once again be in an area where I could not pick up any hint of meaning in overheard conversations, and where written information conveyed nothing to my ignorant mind. One gets complacent, being able to parse out meanings from romance languages, however undependably. It's disquieting to be back where not even the exit signs are recognizable. Good for humility though.

*Speaking of writing, I once again recognized being outdated when I noticed that the dynasty I had always referred to as "Hapsburgs" is now being more widely referred to as "Habsburgs." A little research found that both spellings are historically valid, and that the family itself even occasionally signed as "Haburgs." Makes me less embarrassed over my own faulty spelling.

*Everywhere there is the feeling that winter is coming. Those northern folk are hardy souls though, and continue to enjoy eating outside. The restaurants had not yet limbered up their outdoor heaters (it was, after all, above freezing) but most provided lap robes for the lily-livered among their customers. In Munich, I used two of the blankies while huddling around warm Munich white wursts, served in a bowl of hot water, and roasted potatoes. Warren downed several types of beer to stay toasty.

*While we were in Berlin we missed a lovely invitation from Kathy Hancock, a childhood friend of my brother's family, who is living in Berlin with her family for a year. I'm sorry we didn't get to meet. I sense a kindred spirit since she commented that she's going with a daughter to Poland for a weekend "just because we can." Cannot think of a better reason. You go, girl!

*Had an interesting train-conversation with a couple of young women travelling with their little daughters to Prague. One of the moms was a white-blond, the other Asian and their conversation was conducted partially in English and also in an unidentifiable tongue. The Asian mom spoke Mandarin to her daughter. On their apologizing for their little ones' noise, we got into a conversation and found out that the blonde was Finnish and that the Asian was originally Chinese from Chendu, who had lived in Finland for over 10 years and had just moved to Germany.  Each spoke several languages and had travelled widely. They were having a little mini-vacation together while their husbands were in the US, driving Route 66.

*In Vienna, the "Imperial Capital that isn't anymore" we took the opportunity to see the famous Cellini salt celler that the Renaissance sculptor made for Francois Premier of France. This is yet another of those world renowned objects that so richly deserves its fame. Luxuriously, we had the time to look at it undisturbed by any other viewers. The detail and symbolism and execution are just magnificent. Cellini was a rascal, a brigand, a braggart and a self-confessed murderer, but after all, who doesn't have some faults? His artistry redeemed much if not all.

*Similarly, I had wanted to see the Ishtar Gate in Berlin ever since a high school art class. Some fragments at the Louvre just increased my interest. It is amazing. So much bigger and more colorful than any of the pictures indicate. No wonder Babylon was the wonder of the ancient world. What a privilege to get to see treasures like this, and even poignant when others are being destroyed in their home countries. Perhaps the "theft" of archaeological treasures and their dissemination isn't an unalloyed evil.

*Small issues assume greater importance when travelling like not knowing when daylight savings changes in your locality. Luckily, I'd had the foresight to send myself a calendar message on my Ipad. Time and trains wait for no confused tourists. We also learned more about various train systems. The German DBahn trains were lovely, clean and modern. And, contrary to my cultural stereotypes, often late. I was so impressed that, in contrast, to the more "flexible" French SNCF train system, DBahn lists the platform on their train tickets. I was less impressed when I found out that they weren't always accurate. If Warren hadn't had the sense to check a TV monitor as we ran frantically from a late train to our TGV connection, we'd have missed our connection to Paris. I was so convinced it would be where it said on the ticket. Silly me!

Now Where Were We Before We Were So Beautifully Interrupted? 10-30-15

Today was another beautiful sunny day so our goal was to do one of the walks in our book, "Around and About Paris" by Thirsa Vallois.  She presents walks around Paris by arrondissement, and includes history, architecture, and general interest sites associated with each walk.
So today's walk featured the 14th arr. and walked us through several beautiful little streets that were associated with famous artists in French history.  Some only by name and others by the fact that they lived in houses in the streets.   Our route over to the area today was the Metro because it got us so close to the start of the walk.
Our walk began in a square facing the Mairee of the 14th arr. that is fronted with a small but appealing little park and area where they were holding an open air market, the produce, meat, and seafood stall had very fresh offering and the food stalls all had lines.  We walked through but didn't shop.  We stopped in the park and sat for a couple minutes reading the details of the walk and watched a man and his young son kick a ball back and forth, sort of a precursor to soccer.  The youngster must have been around 3 or 4 but his foot coordination was very good.  The park's flower beds were fully in bloom  with autumn flowers.  But we had a walk ahead so we left after a few minutes.
Our first destination was called Adrienne Villas and is a gated square with houses surrounding a small park.  The houses are all named after artists and architects of France.  The gate was closed and locked but a woman was leaving and opened the gate so we let ourselves in.   This is often an acceptable action and unless you're challenged you walk right in, which is what we did.  The villas sit right next to the busiest street in the arrondissement but behind the gate it is very quiet and peaceful. The square is a combination of detached homes and apartments all very nicely kept up.  So a few minutes walking there and back on to the trail.

Villa Halles Crescent

We left the square and walked down a block or two and turned off the road into a quiet street where we walked back to a T junction and took a left.  Looking for another of the "villas" which are streets that are little enclaves of houses that are still single family houses or houses that have been converted into a couple apartments, but none more that about 3 stories high.   Some are gated and some are not and access is hit or miss as I described above.  The next one was closed and nobody coming out so we walked a few steps beyond to see the crescent of homes that were open to the street and form the outer edge to the villas that were locked.   A very delightful group of small homes that looked very much like a crescent one might see in London.   The houses set back from the street with a parking area for the owners and small gardens in the front. as we sat and read about it a gentleman walked by and as I was taking a picture, asked where we were from.  So we told him and explained that we were walking the neighborhood looking at places of interest from our book.  He turned out to be a resident of one of the houses and interested in the history of the area.  So he told us a bit about the crescent which followed what we had read.  Marcel Duchamp had lived with his mistress in one of them at one point and then later had lived in another just a couple houses removed.  The woman who lived in the first Duchamp house came out and verified that indeed he had lived there with his mistress, who owned it.  At that point another woman came up and the man and she began talking and then we all talked about another two houses where some celebrated singers had lived.
We chatted on a bit and then the woman said there was a little Vietnamese restaurant close by and they were going there for lunch and asked if we would like to accompany them,  We were flustered but happily accepted whereupon the woman said would we like to see her apartment, just across the street.   How can you say no to a charming woman?  So the man went to get a table at the restaurant and we walked across the street to see her apartment.  She has the top floor of the building and at least part of the floor below.  But we went to the top floor where she has a kitchen, a sitting room, and a living room where she hold concerts on a regular basis.  Many comfortable sitting areas where a grand piano dominates the room.  She is a true lover of music and has season tickets to the philharmonic orchestra next to us at Villette.  She also has a group of friends that accompany her to the concerts to tune of 20 or so.  We are now on her invitation list for the next concert and also have an invitation to an art opening of her companion next Thursday night.
We left the apartment and went to the restaurant to meet the man who was already eating due to a prior meeting he had to attend.  But we sat and had a very nice conversation about travel and where each of us had been.  Both of them had been to the U.S. at least three times and visited a number of cities.  As we talked it came out that in addition to the house in Paris he and his wife have two additional houses in Brittany, and the woman has another house somewhere in France as well, true Parisians.   I would have guessed ages at perhaps early 70's but it turned out that he was 80 and she was 78, wow what energy and joie de vivre.  It's really a pity that the Parisians are so cold and stand-offish otherwise we would have been drafted into the family.
After the interruption for lunch, we continued our walk and walked several more "villa" streets. In one we saw the house that Henry Miller lived in when he was writing "Tropic of Cancer", about his life in Paris of the 30's along with Anais Nin.  In another was located the house of Seurat in te appropriately named Villa Seurat.
At the end of the tour we sat in the Parc Montsouris and just watched people enjoy the parks for several minutes before heading back to the apartment, to watch rugby of course.   South Africa roughs up Argentina, but Argentina is game throughout.  Too many penalties for Argentina that South Africa effectively






exploited.