Paris, Day 9: Heritage and Music
For our last day in Paris, we did a little triage: so many things we haven't done and only a day left in the city. We debated: the Catacombs, the Jewish Museum, the Carnavalet (city of Paris history museum). Having spent yesterday with the dead and so much time in churches, we decided to spend a little time with the Jews and that history here.
The Museum of Jewish Art & History is a relatively small museum in the Marais district. We didn't get to see it all but we saw a nice chunk of it. It traces the history of the Jews in France from Medieval times and even earlier to today. It includes discussions of both Ashkenazic (Eastern European) and Sephardic (southern Europe, Middle Eastern and north African) origins, the latter of which I found very interesting (being Ashkenazic myself). The exhibits and artifacts were quite good, the English captions pretty extensive (but not with every exhibit) and I was thrilled to see paintings by Chagall and Modigliani up close and personal. In fact (and I feel a little too blase saying this), what really impressed me more than anything wasn't the beautiful artifacts and examples of Jewish religious articles, but all of the paintings in the collection that we saw. It's a small collection, but the works are just outstanding, with really fine examples of Orientalist portrayals of Jews in Africa and the Middle East, and beautiful portraits and portrayals of life in Eastern Europe, as well as Jewish personalities from French history. The museum was also running an exhibit on the Jews of Algeria which was fascinating. We'd arrived at the museum around 11, and by the time we were about two-thirds through the special exhibit I began to really need lunch. It was about 2:30 and, after a quick poke into the gift shop, where I bought a beautiful star of David, we went off in search of lunch.
Our plan for the rest of the afternoon was a light one. We planned to walk back to Place des Vosges so Elizabeth could take care of some VAT business, and then we walked over to Ile St Louis, mainly so we could say we'd done it. We got some ice cream, and then strolled across the bridge to Ile de la Cite to visit the Deportation Memorial.
The Deportation Memorial commemorates the 200,000 French who were deported to concentration camps, never to return. It's a beautiful, sobering place. You go down a narrow ramp into a concrete-walled enclosure where nothing is visible except for the sky, and then into a sort of small sanctuary where the names of all the camps (some of which I was unfamiliar with) are listed in triangle-shaped alcoves. The main feature is a long hallway behind bars, where 200,000 crystals are embedded in the wall on either side and illuminated from I couldn't tell where. At the opposite end of the long hall is a bright light intended to symbolize hope. It's a lovely tribute, a thoughtful place.
We proceeded back to our apartment from there to pull together our luggage and get down to packing. I wrote some postcards (but will be mailing them from Lithuania) and finalized all our details.
We ate so late that it didn't occur to either of us to go get dinner, even though we had discussed having one last fabulous meal. Our time, however, was constrained by the fact that we had tickets for a concert at Notre Dame at 8:30, a performance featuring Gregorian chant about which we were both excited, and we knew that once one sits down at a French restaurant, one is pretty much committed for the evening. So much for that last meal.
We headed over to the cathedral about a half an hour early, got our seats, and chatted up two ladies from Australia who sat behind us. They'd been touring Europe and had only arrived a couple of days before. They very kindly gave us 2 euro to purchase a program (we'd left all our money at the apartment) so that we could follow along, and then we all got comfortable. The performers were two quartets, one vocal and associated with Notre Dame, and one instrumental. (I'm writing this in the airport and can't find the program, otherwise I'd note the name of the group. It was something like Quartet Barbarienesque.) The concert was called "Ave Maris Stella" and consisted mostly of praise for the Virgin Mary in Latin along with a number of instrumental pieces. These eight people filled this enormous cathedral with ringing, ethereal sound for 90 minutes. There wasn't much to watch, so as I listened, I found myself gazing at the ceiling or looking at the architecture and the lighting, just getting lost in the music. There's something about Gregorian chant that's so compelling and this music, performed by what sounded like two sopranos, an alto, and a countertenor, was no exception. The instrumental quartet was also very good. It was a fitting finale for our trip.
When we went back to the apartment, we finished packing, shared some of the last of the bread, cheese, and butter in the house for a mini-meal, and then hit the sack. We had to be up at 4 AM to be ready for our shuttle at 5, and both wanted as much sleep as possible.
The Museum of Jewish Art & History is a relatively small museum in the Marais district. We didn't get to see it all but we saw a nice chunk of it. It traces the history of the Jews in France from Medieval times and even earlier to today. It includes discussions of both Ashkenazic (Eastern European) and Sephardic (southern Europe, Middle Eastern and north African) origins, the latter of which I found very interesting (being Ashkenazic myself). The exhibits and artifacts were quite good, the English captions pretty extensive (but not with every exhibit) and I was thrilled to see paintings by Chagall and Modigliani up close and personal. In fact (and I feel a little too blase saying this), what really impressed me more than anything wasn't the beautiful artifacts and examples of Jewish religious articles, but all of the paintings in the collection that we saw. It's a small collection, but the works are just outstanding, with really fine examples of Orientalist portrayals of Jews in Africa and the Middle East, and beautiful portraits and portrayals of life in Eastern Europe, as well as Jewish personalities from French history. The museum was also running an exhibit on the Jews of Algeria which was fascinating. We'd arrived at the museum around 11, and by the time we were about two-thirds through the special exhibit I began to really need lunch. It was about 2:30 and, after a quick poke into the gift shop, where I bought a beautiful star of David, we went off in search of lunch.
Our plan for the rest of the afternoon was a light one. We planned to walk back to Place des Vosges so Elizabeth could take care of some VAT business, and then we walked over to Ile St Louis, mainly so we could say we'd done it. We got some ice cream, and then strolled across the bridge to Ile de la Cite to visit the Deportation Memorial.
The Deportation Memorial commemorates the 200,000 French who were deported to concentration camps, never to return. It's a beautiful, sobering place. You go down a narrow ramp into a concrete-walled enclosure where nothing is visible except for the sky, and then into a sort of small sanctuary where the names of all the camps (some of which I was unfamiliar with) are listed in triangle-shaped alcoves. The main feature is a long hallway behind bars, where 200,000 crystals are embedded in the wall on either side and illuminated from I couldn't tell where. At the opposite end of the long hall is a bright light intended to symbolize hope. It's a lovely tribute, a thoughtful place.
We proceeded back to our apartment from there to pull together our luggage and get down to packing. I wrote some postcards (but will be mailing them from Lithuania) and finalized all our details.
We ate so late that it didn't occur to either of us to go get dinner, even though we had discussed having one last fabulous meal. Our time, however, was constrained by the fact that we had tickets for a concert at Notre Dame at 8:30, a performance featuring Gregorian chant about which we were both excited, and we knew that once one sits down at a French restaurant, one is pretty much committed for the evening. So much for that last meal.
We headed over to the cathedral about a half an hour early, got our seats, and chatted up two ladies from Australia who sat behind us. They'd been touring Europe and had only arrived a couple of days before. They very kindly gave us 2 euro to purchase a program (we'd left all our money at the apartment) so that we could follow along, and then we all got comfortable. The performers were two quartets, one vocal and associated with Notre Dame, and one instrumental. (I'm writing this in the airport and can't find the program, otherwise I'd note the name of the group. It was something like Quartet Barbarienesque.) The concert was called "Ave Maris Stella" and consisted mostly of praise for the Virgin Mary in Latin along with a number of instrumental pieces. These eight people filled this enormous cathedral with ringing, ethereal sound for 90 minutes. There wasn't much to watch, so as I listened, I found myself gazing at the ceiling or looking at the architecture and the lighting, just getting lost in the music. There's something about Gregorian chant that's so compelling and this music, performed by what sounded like two sopranos, an alto, and a countertenor, was no exception. The instrumental quartet was also very good. It was a fitting finale for our trip.
When we went back to the apartment, we finished packing, shared some of the last of the bread, cheese, and butter in the house for a mini-meal, and then hit the sack. We had to be up at 4 AM to be ready for our shuttle at 5, and both wanted as much sleep as possible.