postcards from paris: un peu de bleu

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Elegant doorways can be found all over Paris.

But this photo is cropped at the knees because inelegant trash cans

lined the sidewalk edge just in front of the doors, as is often the case.

A little red, white and blue.

Another wonderful doorway, marred visually by posted announcements.

To control this, many public buildings still retain "défense d'afficher" warnings chiseled or painted in scrolling fonts along eye level (although the original 1881 law had larger intentions, including holding the "press" legally responsible for anything it printed).

Ways to maneuver around the city.

After a long walk, it's lovely to sit on a bench in a small tree-lined park

with one's pastry and Kindle, listening to the gentle fountain sounds,

feet up if possible.

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so much paris, so little time

My husband tells me he is battling traffic in hot, humid 95-degree-temps in Virginia while I'm zipping around in cool low-70's here in Paris. But there's not enough time in the day, regardless. This timepiece sculpture outside the St Lazare train station appeals to me, hosting weary pigeons who need a break, stretching the hours, setting the time forward or backward as you choose. If only. The serious clock is still there in the background.



Each day I am greedy to see as much as I can, slowly but surely exploring different arrondissements around each special site I visit. And I measure time by how much my feet hurt by the end of the day. (Not really complaining, you know.) If only I had one of these motorbikes, ubiquitous here, noisily maneuvering through traffic, parked on every square.


Or if only I had one of the little toy cars that must have wheels that turn at 90-degree angles to scuttle sideways into impossibly small parallel parking spaces. Speaking of parking spaces, have you been wondering what's behind those great double doors that punctuate the serried collection of connected block-long facades? Now you know. Why doesn't my garage look like this?

Now it's 1 in the morning, time for the Eiffel Tower lights outside my window to flash and dazzle from top to bottom for 5 whole minutes and then to darken, just like clockwork. So I'm off to bed.
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postcards from paris: château de versailles

So grand is the scale of the Château de Versailles that I could capture only small parts of it with my camera. You will have to rely on the many professional photos, or better yet, visit Versailles yourself to get the full impact. Beginning in the early 1600s as Louis XIII's hunting lodge, with its vast hunting grounds, Versailles became the transformed, spectacular, and increasingly centralized seat of the monarchy under Louis XIV (the "Sun King") who reigned from the age of 4 for over 72 years until his death in 1715. During three successive building campaigns, he brought much of Versailles to its current appearance by 1682, with the Chapel to follow. The palace's location outside the city of Paris allowed the King to house most of his court and many of his relations in one place (keeping track so he could live his long life, I guess). Only two more kings, Louis XV and young Louis XVI, lived there before the Revolution.





From the front gate (first photo above), the massive cobblestoned courtyard opens up to an array of grand court buildings. The focus of Louis XIV's fourth building campaign was the Chapel, a masterpiece whose heightened vaulting was allowed to break the otherwise regulated horizontal palace roof-line.

Below is a ground-level view of the cobblestones, giving you some idea of their irregular walking surface. Even arriving by horse and carriage must have been a jolting affair, because the baby strollers on site were definitely jostling the little sightseers. By the way, the palace and park (over 800 hectares, or about 3 square miles) is entirely fenced.



Back of the palace (below):

Bronze sculpture of La Seine

The park of Versailles spreads out behind the palace. Here (in photos above) you can more clearly see the horizontal emphasis of the long palace extensions, set off by the long perpendicular view down the axis of the Grand Canal (below). Among the many bronze sculptures surrounding the pools and fountains is this figure of La Seine, matched by La Marne on the other side. The park view encompasses the model layout for subsequent French gardens, with fountains and sculptures in marble, bronze and lead, the Grand Canal that stretches the eye "towards infinity" and, off in the woods, Le Grand Trianon and Le Petit Trianon.

Looking down the Grand Canal

Looking from the turtle fountain up the steps to the palace

Last Saturday evening, we stood with the crowd on the steps to watch the fountain displays and fireworks over the Grand Canal. Here, on a Friday afternoon, you can just see them testing the gas flames that march up the grass and are synchronized as part of the evening's display.

Dragon fountain, just before the Grand Canal

Much too much to show here, not to mention Le Grand and Le Petit Trianons, plus the glorious interiors of the palaces and chapel. But how about a few close-ups of workmanship (click on any photo to enlarge)?












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postcards from paris: symmetry

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postcards from paris

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monday monday in paris

Even on vacation in Paris, Monday turned into a typical Monday. First doing the laundry, hanging it out to dry in the morning breeze on the apartment's "penthouse" wrap-around deck (no energy-wasting dryer here). Then grocery shopping, lugging bottled water and bandaids and other basics home in our reusable shopping bags, squeezing everything into the tiny 1930's elevator and rattling up to our top floor apartment. Then removing the dried laundry so it didn't blow away while we went off to search for summer sales at the grand magasin Au Printemps. And then being caught in an afternoon rain shower that drenched us. Which required us to shop elsewhere for a cheaper alternative to the 150E parapluies in Au Printemps. And also required a coffee break under a cafe awning with plastic roll-down sides at that awkward hour when no establishment is serving food. Here are some highlights of just another Monday in Paris.

The grand two-block-long department store Au Printemps needs an elevated walkway to connect its two halves. The inside stairways are grand, too, but we elected to use the escalators.

Coffee and tea at a little cafe in Paris in the rain.

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i'm in the mood for paris

In three short weeks, I'll be exchanging this east coast heat wave for a month in Paris, although the temperatures there aren't much cooler right now. But the delicious excitement is building as I contemplate leisurely days to stroll the city and compare my memories from previous trips.

In 1964, as soon as my freshman year in college ended, I flew for my first time to Orly Airport, with only an undated return-trip plane ticket and a hotel reservation for my first night in Paris. Young and adventurous, I simply intended to go where chance led me until my money ran out -- maybe after a few weeks, if I were lucky. But traveling alone and speaking French made it easy to meet many gracious and generous people who were eager to engage with a smiling American. "Europe on $5 a Day" was my guidebook, but more often I dined with and even stayed with families in Paris, in Toulouse, in Pau, in Cannes, and throughout the countryside.

That adventure-filled summer was my wonderful introduction to France. I have so many stories. Towards the end of the summer, in Marseilles, I encountered a group of American college girls on tour. One girl, so bored with the confines of her tour group, broke off for a day to go climbing with me in the hills above the city. In great style, we toted supplies for a picnic by a rocky stream high in the woods, taking in great views of the sea. In return, she gave me her train ticket to Geneva, since she and her friends had decided to go home. On my early morning arrival in Geneva, I used my trusty guidebook to secure a tiny single room on the top floor of an elegant hotel and went off to find the University of Geneva's Institute of Architecture. As I wandered its large echoing empty halls, I happened on a room where 3 young men were working on their diplome projects. Our conversation covered a lot of territory, although my technical vocabulary wasn't up to par, until one of them broke off to phone his family to announce he was bringing a young American home for lunch. By the time we arrived at his family home, his mother had purchased a small bottle of milk to serve with my lunch, since everyone knew Americans drank a lot of milk. After lunch we all set out for an afternoon on the family sailboat on Lac Léman, occasionally being photographed by tourists on other boats passing by. That night I slept under a feather duvet in my small attic hotel room, greeted at dawn with a rooftop view through my tiny window, and was served my continental breakfast on a silver tray with a rosebud and a copy of the day's paper.

Eventually the summer ran out before my money did, and I returned home the day before my sophomore year began at college. Later trips to France to study and visit were never so carefree as that first summer. The times changed, my responsibilities changed, and Paris has changed. I look forward to making a new photographic record of what I see this time.

surprise auction on eBay

Last week, during our family Thanksgiving celebration, a friend in Germany emailed me some surprising news. He'd been involved in my painting years there and wanted to alert me. An old 1981 exhibition catalog from a group art show called "American Artists in Berlin" (Amerikanische Künstler in Berlin) was being auctioned on eBay. That show had featured 6 young American artists then living in Berlin, including Lynn Bowers, Jimmy Clark, Gary Rieveschl, John Schuetz, Christina Viera, and me. In the eBay bidding window was a two-page spread from the catalog, showing Jimmy Clark's pottery and one of my paintings (both a bit cut off).


Since my painting career preceded the internet access we so enjoy now, you'll realize what an unexpected glimpse this was to see a work of mine online from almost 30 years ago. My large paintings were very colorful, as were the works of the other artists included in the show. But the exhibition catalog, funded by the Amerika Haus in Berlin, was printed in black and white, an indicator of the expense of mounting shows before artists could help their own publicity using home printers and a free and expansive internet. The critical reviews were printed in both German and English, adding another expense.


I didn't bid on the catalog, but I should have. Although my own copy resides somewhere in my archives (I hope), my youngest son wishes he had known in time to buy this one. Although he had grown up in my peripatetic studio, nevertheless he had missed those early years of my career. Already it's hard to remember which of my paintings were in that Berlin show. The large painting shown on eBay was "Femme Nue." I think there was a huge painting called "Berlin Boogie." Another painting, "The Odd Couple," was purchased by the State Department. I hope my records show who bought the rest. I do remember how young I felt then, exhibiting next to Lynn who also had his New York studio, Gary who made vast Lifeforms following his Harvard/MIT studies, and Christina who was probably at RISD when I was there but had already exhibited in Greece, Great Britain, and Italy, while I, as a military wife, simply moved often.  :)
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