Weekend in Paris: ongoing
I'm doing okay. This is the overwhelming feeling about this holiday. I'm not going crazy with the sightseeing, I've not had more than a flicker of anxiety, and the misc crappy things malfunctioning in my body parts aren't stopping me having a good time. Hurrah!
(The metro still hates me though. It's decided some of my new tickets are also invalid. I hate it back. But I have about 15 unused tickets and I really only need one to get me back to Gare du Nord on Monday, so I'm going to rise above it.)
When I said I wanted to see the second tier of Paris museums, I really meant Not The Louvre, because although it is utterly incomparable as an experience it's also bloody hard work. And once you're in (or I am), you tend to stay all day out of sheer relief at making it inside. I've been at least 5 times. I am NOT GOING this time.
Except for tomorrow when I'm going to the Arts Decoratifs part, but that's a whole nother entrance and infinitely less hassle.
I went today to the Musee Jacqumart Andre first. Where? you cry. So did I, but I was so wrong. Mum's been recommending I go for years, and as usual she was entirely correct. It's a 19th century hotel particulier for a couple of rich collectors in the area near Saint Lazare, on Boulevard Haussmann no less, which I knew. I did not know it was built eccentrically to their design (I have some photos for later). And I really did not know about their collections. There are French yawnsome things downstairs, and they were having a special exhibition on Watteau and Fragonard and fetes galants, which is very much the kind of thing I would have expected and have been avoiding. I'm massively not into 17th-18th century French art, especially the pastoral bits, and I was all set to think 'nice place, collections yawn', when I stepped into the Flemish room and was hit between the eyes by a van Dyck and a Rembrandt. Actually 2 of the former and 3 of the latter but it took me a while to get my eye in. And then I went upstairs to the Italians and my jaw fell, and stayed fallen. They collected 15th century art, mostly, some 14th and 16th - the stuff that I reliably love the most. Bellini, Mantegna, some incredible bronzes and sculptures (hello Donatello), Tiepolo frescoes and much more. One of the Mantegnas I am sure is on linen - I might get around to writing about that for one of my looking at art pieces, because it's a technique we forget. So rare. Amazing. One reason they have such an amazing collection is that when they were buying (1870s/80s) the French national museums had very little money to buy (just after the disasters of the Franco Prussian war), and the curators helped Andre to purchase 'for France'. They didn't have kids, and willed it all to the state, so it turned out as the curators must have hoped. It could have merged into the Louvre collections, but it's much more manageable to see it like this, and I'm glad of it.
So that was a good start to the day, and I also had a very early lunch in their lovely cafe, which is used to tourists and serves proper food at 11.40, bless them.
Onwards, to another double barrelled ex-private collection, the Musee Cognacq Jay [I do like btw that both these museums use the wife's maiden name, not just making it the husband's surname: they were collector couples, and it shows]. This museum is in the Marais, so I used the metro to get there from the other end of town [finally went to Franklin D Roosevelt station which I've vaguely wanted for years], and mooched in the Marais a little first. It's getting less hip and more brand conscious, alas, and the gay couples are mostly my age, so I guess it's not the cool new place anymore. But still lots to see. I took a wrong turning and walked parallel to Rue des Francs Bourgeois, my destination, along Rue des Rosiers, and discovered that's the Jewish quarter still - it's survived the slums and then the hip-edgy-on-the-up phases and it's still going now Starbucks has moved in. Quiet today, because shabbat, but good to know it's there.
This museum was more like I'd expected the morning to be. Interesting, because it has moved into a renaissance palace (very plain, but lovely proportions), so it's reconstructed rather than in the original collections' home. Mostly 18th century, slight yawn, but lots of furniture and panelling and whatnot, interesting because they collected both English and French, and there were some reflections on how the two painting traditions developed independently because of all the 18th century wars. And it's free, ffs. Nothing in Paris is free! I bought an audioguide out of sheer bafflement at not having to cough up a tenner to get in.
And then more mooching because my next appointment at the Hotel Soubise didn't open till 2pm. Except... as I approached, massive banner outside read LES ARCHIVES NATIONALES OUVRENT SON JARDIN. Because the hotel Soubise is the oldest bit of the national archives and the part you can visit. As, now, are the gardens, and they're open all day. Rather tatty but rather nice - another green space where you don't expect it. I have a bit of archives envy here*, though the buildings are a bugger to maintain I would think. But so central. Still, you have to do a 7 year archives diploma to work here and the protocol and old fashionedness would drive me potty, so it's not an ambition. The buildings are rather lovely, though, or at least the old bits are. Fitting, with my other hotels today.
There's an exhibition on at present about the socialist leader Jean Jaures who was assassinated days before the first world war - a good take on the WW1 inevitabilities we're all living with in heritage just now. Jaures was leading the movement for peace when he was killed. Probably a good thing he didn't live to see the outcome, ugh. His only son died in 1918 ("mort pour la France" said the family tree in the exhibition, in a phrasing I'm not sure Jaures would have used). But he was a great bull of a man, great speaker. Not comfortable, but interesting. A hell of a contrast to the suite of rooms after, which have a few facsimiles of great French documents (chronicles of Jeanne d'Arc, charter of Charlemagne, will of Louis XVI in the Temple in 1792 poor sod [hideously sad thing], the Edict of Nantes and more). I geeked. A few bits of exhibition about what the archives do too, though not that detailed. They seem to be going to open the Hotel de Rohan, which is the other old part of the archives, and do some tours. It'd be nice to see them make something a bit more of the collections, though it's completely unsuitable for permanent exhibitions so I guess they're a bit stuck.
(Side note: I realised belatedly that I'm also staying very near the Musee des Lettres et Manuscrits and I'm trying to decide whether to give myself a stroke by visiting. It's a carpetbagger institution, privately backed, which has burst onto the museum scene in the last few years claiming to be a unique cultural institution dedicated to preserving written history. Fuckers. That's what the entire international archives network has been for 200 years. What they mean is they've ripped several thousand letters with famous autographs out of context and stuck a selection on permanent display, which is destroying them. They bought a Bronte childrens' miniature book a couple of years back - one of the Gondal ones I think. It'll be in a case now, unreadable. Feel the thrill of being near it, just don't ever get to see what it says. I think I may *not* visit after all.)
After which, I headed back to the hotel, via a long leisurely sunshiney stroll. Onto the Ile St Louis, where I inevitably bought ice cream (blackcurrant and vine peach sorbet, nomnom), though not from Berthillon due to unreasonable queues. Round the side of Notre Dame to get back to the left bank, and then through the tourist hell round St Michel and then shopping hell on St Germain. Acquired some religieuses on the way, purely by accident, cough. Didn't stop at a cafe, which I most definitely should have, so a bit parched by the time I got to the hotel. Cuppa and a sinful pastry. All good.
Tomorrow is decorative arts, possibly the espace Brancusi if I can face Beaubourg on a weekend and prolly not the rage inducing museum. I might have a couple of hours free, but I'm not entirely sure what to do with them. My knee is just about okay for about 6 hours of intermittent walking and standing, but I was wondering about doing an overpriced tourist bus or boat to get a break. Anyone done one lately? I haven't since I was 18. It's that or Montmartre, again if I can face it, and my knee is unhappy at the prospect. Also, I'd need to try to find a working metro ticket... My only other ambition is a proper meal in a proper eating place, because even in My State of Health (TM, see also bank balance), it's dumb to spend a weekend here without.
*Note for newbies. I'm kind of cagey about my work on here, but let's say I am employed by a major national institution in the field of UK archives...
(The metro still hates me though. It's decided some of my new tickets are also invalid. I hate it back. But I have about 15 unused tickets and I really only need one to get me back to Gare du Nord on Monday, so I'm going to rise above it.)
When I said I wanted to see the second tier of Paris museums, I really meant Not The Louvre, because although it is utterly incomparable as an experience it's also bloody hard work. And once you're in (or I am), you tend to stay all day out of sheer relief at making it inside. I've been at least 5 times. I am NOT GOING this time.
Except for tomorrow when I'm going to the Arts Decoratifs part, but that's a whole nother entrance and infinitely less hassle.
I went today to the Musee Jacqumart Andre first. Where? you cry. So did I, but I was so wrong. Mum's been recommending I go for years, and as usual she was entirely correct. It's a 19th century hotel particulier for a couple of rich collectors in the area near Saint Lazare, on Boulevard Haussmann no less, which I knew. I did not know it was built eccentrically to their design (I have some photos for later). And I really did not know about their collections. There are French yawnsome things downstairs, and they were having a special exhibition on Watteau and Fragonard and fetes galants, which is very much the kind of thing I would have expected and have been avoiding. I'm massively not into 17th-18th century French art, especially the pastoral bits, and I was all set to think 'nice place, collections yawn', when I stepped into the Flemish room and was hit between the eyes by a van Dyck and a Rembrandt. Actually 2 of the former and 3 of the latter but it took me a while to get my eye in. And then I went upstairs to the Italians and my jaw fell, and stayed fallen. They collected 15th century art, mostly, some 14th and 16th - the stuff that I reliably love the most. Bellini, Mantegna, some incredible bronzes and sculptures (hello Donatello), Tiepolo frescoes and much more. One of the Mantegnas I am sure is on linen - I might get around to writing about that for one of my looking at art pieces, because it's a technique we forget. So rare. Amazing. One reason they have such an amazing collection is that when they were buying (1870s/80s) the French national museums had very little money to buy (just after the disasters of the Franco Prussian war), and the curators helped Andre to purchase 'for France'. They didn't have kids, and willed it all to the state, so it turned out as the curators must have hoped. It could have merged into the Louvre collections, but it's much more manageable to see it like this, and I'm glad of it.
So that was a good start to the day, and I also had a very early lunch in their lovely cafe, which is used to tourists and serves proper food at 11.40, bless them.
Onwards, to another double barrelled ex-private collection, the Musee Cognacq Jay [I do like btw that both these museums use the wife's maiden name, not just making it the husband's surname: they were collector couples, and it shows]. This museum is in the Marais, so I used the metro to get there from the other end of town [finally went to Franklin D Roosevelt station which I've vaguely wanted for years], and mooched in the Marais a little first. It's getting less hip and more brand conscious, alas, and the gay couples are mostly my age, so I guess it's not the cool new place anymore. But still lots to see. I took a wrong turning and walked parallel to Rue des Francs Bourgeois, my destination, along Rue des Rosiers, and discovered that's the Jewish quarter still - it's survived the slums and then the hip-edgy-on-the-up phases and it's still going now Starbucks has moved in. Quiet today, because shabbat, but good to know it's there.
This museum was more like I'd expected the morning to be. Interesting, because it has moved into a renaissance palace (very plain, but lovely proportions), so it's reconstructed rather than in the original collections' home. Mostly 18th century, slight yawn, but lots of furniture and panelling and whatnot, interesting because they collected both English and French, and there were some reflections on how the two painting traditions developed independently because of all the 18th century wars. And it's free, ffs. Nothing in Paris is free! I bought an audioguide out of sheer bafflement at not having to cough up a tenner to get in.
And then more mooching because my next appointment at the Hotel Soubise didn't open till 2pm. Except... as I approached, massive banner outside read LES ARCHIVES NATIONALES OUVRENT SON JARDIN. Because the hotel Soubise is the oldest bit of the national archives and the part you can visit. As, now, are the gardens, and they're open all day. Rather tatty but rather nice - another green space where you don't expect it. I have a bit of archives envy here*, though the buildings are a bugger to maintain I would think. But so central. Still, you have to do a 7 year archives diploma to work here and the protocol and old fashionedness would drive me potty, so it's not an ambition. The buildings are rather lovely, though, or at least the old bits are. Fitting, with my other hotels today.
There's an exhibition on at present about the socialist leader Jean Jaures who was assassinated days before the first world war - a good take on the WW1 inevitabilities we're all living with in heritage just now. Jaures was leading the movement for peace when he was killed. Probably a good thing he didn't live to see the outcome, ugh. His only son died in 1918 ("mort pour la France" said the family tree in the exhibition, in a phrasing I'm not sure Jaures would have used). But he was a great bull of a man, great speaker. Not comfortable, but interesting. A hell of a contrast to the suite of rooms after, which have a few facsimiles of great French documents (chronicles of Jeanne d'Arc, charter of Charlemagne, will of Louis XVI in the Temple in 1792 poor sod [hideously sad thing], the Edict of Nantes and more). I geeked. A few bits of exhibition about what the archives do too, though not that detailed. They seem to be going to open the Hotel de Rohan, which is the other old part of the archives, and do some tours. It'd be nice to see them make something a bit more of the collections, though it's completely unsuitable for permanent exhibitions so I guess they're a bit stuck.
(Side note: I realised belatedly that I'm also staying very near the Musee des Lettres et Manuscrits and I'm trying to decide whether to give myself a stroke by visiting. It's a carpetbagger institution, privately backed, which has burst onto the museum scene in the last few years claiming to be a unique cultural institution dedicated to preserving written history. Fuckers. That's what the entire international archives network has been for 200 years. What they mean is they've ripped several thousand letters with famous autographs out of context and stuck a selection on permanent display, which is destroying them. They bought a Bronte childrens' miniature book a couple of years back - one of the Gondal ones I think. It'll be in a case now, unreadable. Feel the thrill of being near it, just don't ever get to see what it says. I think I may *not* visit after all.)
After which, I headed back to the hotel, via a long leisurely sunshiney stroll. Onto the Ile St Louis, where I inevitably bought ice cream (blackcurrant and vine peach sorbet, nomnom), though not from Berthillon due to unreasonable queues. Round the side of Notre Dame to get back to the left bank, and then through the tourist hell round St Michel and then shopping hell on St Germain. Acquired some religieuses on the way, purely by accident, cough. Didn't stop at a cafe, which I most definitely should have, so a bit parched by the time I got to the hotel. Cuppa and a sinful pastry. All good.
Tomorrow is decorative arts, possibly the espace Brancusi if I can face Beaubourg on a weekend and prolly not the rage inducing museum. I might have a couple of hours free, but I'm not entirely sure what to do with them. My knee is just about okay for about 6 hours of intermittent walking and standing, but I was wondering about doing an overpriced tourist bus or boat to get a break. Anyone done one lately? I haven't since I was 18. It's that or Montmartre, again if I can face it, and my knee is unhappy at the prospect. Also, I'd need to try to find a working metro ticket... My only other ambition is a proper meal in a proper eating place, because even in My State of Health (TM, see also bank balance), it's dumb to spend a weekend here without.
*Note for newbies. I'm kind of cagey about my work on here, but let's say I am employed by a major national institution in the field of UK archives...