After yesterday’s debaucle, found mention in one of our books of a museum of Romantic art for Jill (soft colours more her speed than the moving parts of la moderne :) Truly the sweetest, most romantic spot - vines overhanging, wee tea shop in its courtyard -
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The home of Dutch painter Ary Scheffer is full of poetry and ethnographic curiosities, now turned into a small musuem to Pierre Loti (born Julien Viaud 1850-1923) and George Sand. - soft paintings of sea voyages and visits to the Orient (Asia Minor).
I had never heard of Loti or his work. Raised a Huguenot, tortured by the sensitivities of his day, he had to hit the high seas to enable his
devouring sensuality found a free expression outside his class and his world
Having dressed in local costume to mingle with the crowds and bazaars, Loti returned to Paris, and continued living in his masquerade.
House was full of works by his contemporaries, all dreaming of far away horizons.
- Eugne Delacroix
- Alexandre-Gabriel Decamps
- Alexandre Lemky
- Lucien Lévy-Dhrurer
same attraction for the Arab world, same rejection of fast modernization
Everywhere could be heard the sighs of the Romantics, the rustle of their colourful scarves and saris, eyes lined in kohl; tortured souls, languishing, and dreaming of exotic travels.
colours shimmered, the paintings moved and undulated. Strangely juxtaposed to the modern art we had seen the day before, which used literal movement, yet moved us not
Beautiful music in our ears, found amongst the George Sand collection were casts of two hands - hers and Chopin’s. Jill looked at his in wonderment for its size; the curve of George Sand’s wrist seemed to bring her to life in the room behind us.
Off to Montmartre. Secure in our knowledge of the métro, we set off early in the day had to meet with Raphael and pay the remains of our rent. sigh
Having done our research, we had inititally intended on making a stop at Les Abbesses, but it was closed for renovations. Got off instead at a station directly across the street from The Moulin Rouge (not on my to-do list, but we were right there, so took the requisite photos think they might have been deleted by now: keep forgetting that I brougtht two 1 Meg cards with me
edit our visit to la Muséé de la Vie romantique was next. Lingered outside in the tea shop first -
And then we were off. This time, using the spine of our guidebooks (only got in the way once)- our maps were oriented correctly ;)
Along Rue Lepic, up we climbed …
- cobblestones
- cobblestone
- i hate cobblestones -
As before, everything was working out for us, even if not as planned. Our difficulties making our way to the Eiffel Tower? - well, we got there at the perfect time
- breathtaking views of the city by daylight
- we were also there as the sun began to set and the city became awashed in a golden glow
- then: night fell - and the lights came on!
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Not sure how they turned out, but we took some from the top of the tower when the lights first started flashing, and also from the ground. [cheesy link]
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The east wing of the Palais de Tokyo houses La Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris. A tour of avant-garde art of the 20th century, each wing or room represents a different genre. With such a wide range to be covered, it wasn’t surprising there were some rooms we merely walked through to get to the next, and others which held surprises -
Absolutely glorious day for wanderings. Things really are working out perfectly for us. Refresh that weather page, and you won’t be able to find rain
Stopped for lunch Parisienne-stye at La Ferme da mange - with sandwiches built just for me will remember that one for later - - and a cappuccino so good that I went to grab a second as I was gulping down the last of the first… We were off to find la Tour Eiffel!
cough cough find …
sputter
The Tuilieries metro stop is just at the end of our street. Beautiful art nouveau wrought iron curls at the entrance, below is currently decorated to commemorate the last siècle. Newly purchased 5 day pass in hand, we descend
… I have always understood the subterrain, and the French system really is clearly marked.
All is good until we come up for air: we each have a map in hand, but soon realize we are holding them in opposite directions
gah! one of us must be right, right? or do we turn them 90°?
For anyone else, the Eiffel Tower would have been a sufficient compass ;)
