My Favorite Day in Paris - Montmartre!

So this is me, happily eating my jambon and fromage crêpe as I climb the stairs up the hills of Montmartre. This was, by far, my most favorite day in Paris. Last time I was in Paris, I never had a chance to get up this far north, so I made it a priority this trip. And oh the things I learned...

For example, do you know who this unfortunate man is? It´s Saint Dennis, who apparently was taken up to Montmartre and beheaded by the Romans. Yeah, not fun. But that´s where the name comes from...montmartre...mount of martyrs.

Also, Montmartre is part of the 18 arrondissement because it was its own village for quite a long time before begrudgingly being absorbed into the modern-day metropolitan area of Paris. That´s why Montmartre has its own look and feel and bohemian charm.

And Montmartre is not all about sex, by the way. Nor is it all about the Moulin Rouge. And no, I did not see Nicole Kidman doing the can-can. I had heard a lot of unsavory things about the area, and felt suspicious because all the very cheap, online hotels were the ones claiming to be in the heart of the 18th arrondissement, five minutes from the Moulin Rouge and ten minutes from Sacre-Coeur...

Well, there is sex-row in the area, but it´s along the Avenue de Clichy (which sounds shady, doesn´t it?)

And the Avenue de Clichy is right on the border between the 9th and 18th districts. So if you go deeper south into the 9th or up the hill of the 18th, you really end up right back into charming Paris. But, not without a quick trip into the SuperMarche Erotique... of course.

This is one of the only two suriving original Art Nouveau metro stations in Paris--right in the heart of Montmartre.

This is the apartment building where Vincent Van Gogh stayed during his two years in Paris. Did you know that Vincent started painting when he was 27 and committed suicide when he was 37. And during those ten years, six of them were spent painting in the Flemmish style (in other words, NOT the brilliant colorful style he is known for today). So that´s only 4 years in which he created over some 800 paintings. And his work radically changed during his stay in Montmartre. And, okay, it probably had more to do with all the absinthe he was drinking...rather than Paris itself...but still...

Really, I loved this day because the whole area was just so surprisingly beautiful.

Plus, there was a really great street musician performing in front of the Sacre-Coeur.

Esmeralda and the Gargoyles

So I showed up at the Notre Dame to climb the bell tower. According to Dan, we did it the last time around, but I didn´t remember. I went later in the evening, around eight to avoid the crowds, and well...failed miserably.

Huge long line to climb the bell tower. Drats! I had just come from the Eiffel Tower, where the waiting time was guaranteed about 2+ hours (which I was actually relieved about b/c I did remember doing that before and didn´t really feel like doing it again...)

So when I arrived at Notre Dame, the pressure was on to climb something high in Paris...

Well, I circled back about an hour later and got lucky because I ascended the tower just before dusk...

And can I just say that my favorite thing about climbing the bell tower of Notre Dame is not the views? It´s the Gargoyles.



If I ever have a house in the suburbs, it is going to be decorated with gargoyles (to scare away about all the bad suburbian vibes).

This is me, touching the bell... because they let you do that sort of thing in Paris...




Love the one above. He´s eating one of his own!


And to make my night even more perfect and Parisian, when I descended the tower, there was a public performance in the main square. Some French gypsy pyrotechnicians were putting on the most amazing display of crazy medieval torch swirling that I had ever seen...

At one point, the main bad-ass French gypsy pyrotech threw up his flames ninja chain into the air and it soared like a comet right over the square and into the other end of the crowd--and almost landed on top of all the people! Until bad-ass ran and caught it just in time--like it was totally planned. God, I love bad-ass French gypsy pyrotechs.

Art History Lesson!

The first stop, of course, is the requisite Musee d´Orsay. When I told Dan that I was going there, he said, "Wait, is that the boring museum?" (Because we´ve both been there before)... to which, I took offense, and said that it would NOT be boring. To which he replied: B-O-RING!

Well, let us commence on our non-boring tour of all the interesting art pieces at the Musee d´Orsay... And by the way, Paris museums and palaces are cool because they actually let you take photos of the art!

First up: my favorite painting in the whole museum. I don´t know who she is (actually, I do: Madame de Lyones painted by Amaury-Duval and exhibited at the 1862 salon). But what I mean is: I don´t know the story behind the portrait, but I love it because she looks slightly sinister. And not sinister in an obvious way, but in a sly, subversive, feminine way with her black oil hair and black oil dress. This picture doesn´t show her eyes very well, but they're smokey violet--very Elizabeth Taylor--very "don´t cross me or I will make you pay and you´ll never even know it" kind of way. If you double click, you may be able to see her gaze and her curt little smile and her insinuating gesture with her hand.

I love her.

This is a marble sculpture by Auguste Clésinger, called "Femme piquée par un serpent." Can you guess what that means and why she looks like she´s suffering?

What about now?

She´s suffering and writhing because she´s been bitten by the tiniest of snakes, wrapped discreetly around her wrist. I love this sculpture because it´s such a metaphor for how the seemingly tiniest of things can cause us the most pain.

Manet´s Olympia. Perhaps the most famous of all the paintings in the museum. Manet was a predecessor of the impressionist movement, and not really an impressionist himself. He knew Monet and Renoir and Pissarro, but Manet was older and absoluetly intent on gaining notoriety amongst the hoity-toities of the time. And unlike the impressionists (who weren´t ever accepted into the Salon, so they started their own salons), Manet desperately tried again and again to get his work exhibited in the Salon.

This painting, however, ruined his chances for good because it was so scandalous. A courtesan painted in the style of a Greek goddess. How dare he, that naughty Manet!

Renoir: Here´s something I learned while in Paris that I never knew about. This painting cuts off the figures on both sides of the frame in order to give the illusion that the party continues on forever. However, that was also scandalous and daring and shocking at the time (wow, the hoity-toities really didn´t get out much). How dare he, that naughty Renoir!

Monet...ah, his lily pads. I was supposed to visit his studio and gardens in Giverney. It was the one thing that I really was looking forward to...but in the end, I waited until Sunday to do it, and missed the train to go out there. Let´s move on and try not to think about how sad that makes me!

Monet...love him. Never made a dime for a long, long, long time. Always was broke. Always was borrowing money. And yet, never deviated from his experimentations with his art. Love that.

I just happen to know that Monet painted this portrait of his wife on her death bed, who died poor and young, and never benefited from Monet´s success later in his life. And yes, Monet actaully painted his wife on her deathbed. I think that´s very telling in so many ways...

My favorite portrait of Van Gogh (that´s Van Goth, everyone, for the record!) There´s just so much to say about him that I can´t even begin.


I saw a special exhibit (also at the d'Orsay) and it was all about the works of the art dealer Voillard, who handled the sale of so many artists of this period--from Cezanne, Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh to Picasso and others.

Anyway, it was fascinating because Van Gogh´s work would have been lost into obscurity if it hadn´t been for Voillard.


Since Theo Van Gogh--who had been Vincent´s art dealer--died six months after Vincent commited suicide, there was a big void in the professional dealing of his art. Voillard saw it as an opportunity and bought a bunch of paintings from Theo´s wife. He exhibted them five years after Vincent´s death and the show was a complete failure. Nobody liked Van Gogh´s art. Not even Cezanne, who said it was the work of a madman (I knew there was a reason why I hate Cezanne´s crap).

Anyway, Voillard persisted and was the single most influencial force in creating a market for Van Gogh´s work. It just goes to show you that genius is an acquired taste.

An old friend of mine loved this painting because he said it sums up the meaning of life. A good hard day´s work and then you lay to rest with the woman you love.

-------------

On that note, moving on...to the below sculpture. The only bronze sculpture of the monarchy to survive the French Revolution, which is shocking if you think about how many sculptures there were of the monarchy.

This is a sculpture of Louis XIV, the sun king responsible for setting up public court at Versailles. Apparently, he had 300 illegitimate children. And those are just the ones they know about... I heard a tour guide call him "King Nasty." I thought that was funny.

Off to the Louvre. I think is interesting to ponder the fact that IM Pei had the balls to propose such an audacious, distracting, and contrasting structure in such a harmonious historical square, and the Louvre commission actually went along with it.


I mean, really, it´s amazing to think about how much confidence you must have in your own artistic merit to make such a proposal, and it´s amazing to think about the fact that it´s just so accepted now and that he actually got away with it!

Either way, from the inside, it is very celestial in a geometric sort of way.

The Da Vinci Code crowd, huddled around to see the Mona Lisa. Yeah, swept right by that one...

Jewels, jewels, and more jewels. Love them. The emerald necklace on the right was a present to Napoleon´s second younger wife. He dumped Josephine when it was discovered that she was too old to have children. But it´s all good, because Josephine ended up marrying Napoleon´s brother and getting the sapphire necklace, crown, earrings, and broach on the left. Take that Bonaparte.

Is this The Crying Game?

Why no, it´s just Rome´s fascination with Hermaphrodites!

This wasn´t in the Louvre. I just realized though that I´m in love with Parisian bohemian chandeliers and mosiac storefronts...