Versailles - jardin sous la pluie

We have our sandwiches in a recess looking out at the gardens - brollies much in evidence and not a lot of flânerie going on. By the look of that cloud,  the rain's settled in for the afternoon.

glistening cherubs

I have a sun hat and a waterproof - a spot of rain never put an Englishwoman off, did it?

There's a hidden café with parasol/umbrellas among the trees - "deux express" seem like a good idea.  Then onward to the Petit Trianon.

The way into the Petit Trianon

We all went into the house, for to get out of the rain.  This smaller palace feels far more human - wouldn't mind living there myself, though I'd need a couple of cleaners and a cook.
It was used for private meetings between Louis XV and Madame de Pompadour, then became strongly associated with Marie-Antoinette's understandable urge to escape from the big house.

Autofocus concentrates on the rainy window

Marie Antoinette's grotto in the English-style gardens

The Belvedere - unfortunately we can't go inside to shelter!

We walk around,  hoping that we're on our way to the Queen's Hamlet - the paper plan has gone soggy, and signs on the ground are thin. 
We end up walking past the Orangery to the Grand Trianon.  This smaller palace was built for Louis XIV and is where he spent time with his mistress Madame de Maintenon.  It was used as a residence for various members of the royal family, and also by Napoleon Bonaparte's family. It's an attractive one-storey building with lovely gardens.

We still hadn't found the hamlet, so we walked along to the Porte St Antoine and found our way in from there.

Note the irises growing on the roof

The animals are rather damp too.

A quote about Versailles estate, from Giuseppe Penone, an Italian sculptor whose works were exhibited around the house and garden - I didn't take much time to look at them.  I plead the weather in mitigation.

Laid out to exalt the power of one man, it underlines the force and power of nature which minimises man’s action, requiring unceasing maintenance work to preserve it.

Versailles - the house

The building was a huge expansion of what was once a royal hunting lodge, so that Louis XIV could show his power, absolute, received directly from God. It housed uppity aristocrats where the king could keep them under close watch.  He was a patron of the arts - painting, theatre and music.  It employed thousands in its building and running.  It is now one of the jewels in the crown of the French Republic.

I'm not a big fan of treks round stately homes, but it has to be done - and shouldn't be missed.

the golden gates stay shut

we are shunted in round the sides

our queuing lines can breathe again

we expand to a loose rabble

cross the courtyard

funneled

past the audio guide counter

“Follow the arrows, 

this way please,

no straying,

this is the direction of the visit"

We drift through endless glorious rooms

of paintings, carpets, luscious chairs and beds

sublime ceilings

splendid, awe-inspiring, powerful,

dazzling with wealth and colours,

light and comfort

beyond the merely human

I have no audio

to halt me and point out what I should see

then the highpoint

Galerie des Glaces, Hall of Mirrors

reflecting daylight, or the glow of chandeliers

back and forth the silver softened light

grey skies outside and lights within

Versailles - the sun king's palace in the rain

The approach:

Versailles glory of the Sun King

on a day of relentless rain

and transport strikes

advance tickets count for little

the longest queue is for the ticketed

snaking round the outer courtyard

outside the gilded gates

children pester for standing lunch

adults fume

umbrellas mushroom

slowly we come nearer the goal

creeping obedient subjects
"A toutes les gloires de la France"

we shuffle small steps forward

kept in our place by footmen

who insist on good manners

always start your question with a cheery

“Bonjour monsieur, excusez-moi, mais. . .”

about an hour to wait in line  - that’s all.

Montmartre - sacred and profane

From Chateau-rouge metro station, we walk along the street, and then climb the steps

The Sacré-Coeur raises its huge dome, dominating the scene - we obey its call and walk around the inside - full of votive candles and gold reflections. No photographs allowed, and enforcers to make sure of this.  Impressive.

Outside we admire the view of the city, not so sparkling on a cloudy day, but what a view!

The Eiffel Tower is hidden around the corner - have the trees grown or have I misremembered the view?

Place du Tertre with its cafes and artists

We walk down through the park - a cat catches my eye.

Around Pigalle we find the Moulin Rouge.

Someone's afraid of losing their chairs and tables.

We sit in a small square on the rue Lepic and eat sandwiches - then drop into the nearby Galerie W  where Troy Henriksen's paintings are on display.  Entrée libre - no pressure.

Montmartre - Valadon and Utrillo

My first reaction is "That was some dinner!"    Suzanne Valadon was the daughter of a laundress, and began work as a circus acrobat.  She was injured in a fall from a trapeze and turned to work as an artists' model, and then became a painter herself.  She was the first woman to be admitted to the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts in 1894.  Some of her paintings are exhibited in the Centre Georges Pompidou.

 She had affairs with several painters and the musician Erik Satie.

Her son Maurice was born when she was 18. He later took the surname Utrillo.  Reproductions of his paintings of Montmartre were everywhere in the 1960s - we saw some of the originals in the Orangerie.

La Place des Vosges and the Marais

11 June 2013

Our first full day in Paris, bookmarked for walking around. Close at hand is the Place des Vosges with its elegant buildings around a formal French square.

From there we explore the Marais, with the Pletzl, the old Jewish area of narrow streets, small shops and the occasional chilling memorial plaque. 165 children from a Jewish school were deported and died at Auschiwtz.  It happened here. The past casts a long shadow in Paris.

Then it’s time for coffee.  We sit outside at a long table.   I notice a young woman drawing – her eyes sliding from her sketch pad to a woman talking on her mobile.  Then Harry becomes her subject – he’s absorbed in the map of Paris on his phone

.

Before we go, I ask her if we can see her work.  ”Is it ok to take a photo?”  She smiles and we talk for a while.

old dogs, new tricks . . .

Hmm - only 84% correct.  Not quite University Challenge standard yet.  Patience, patience . . .

Then - and now

Once upon a time there was a young woman who lived in a dream world – and thought that Paris would turn it into reality.

The dream world had moved on by the late 1960s. The rebellious intellectuals of the 1930s and 40s had become rich and famous, and although they still signed important petitions, and sold and wrote for left-wing newspapers, they were already part of an establishment.

There was a small chance of catching sight of these characters in the flesh – though she would never have dared speak to them.

Later, much later, there was an older woman who knew the dreams were fantasies.  She came to Paris with no intention of rediscovering her heroes or her earlier self.

Paris was different, yet the same, as beautiful, as uncaring, as untouchable, as bounteous. as capricious as ever.

Just occasionally the two worlds touched – a whisper brushing past, rather than a collision.

Should museums be free?

Yes, ideally!

The first reason is that I'm quite incapable of absorbing pictures or exhibits for more than two or three hours without suffering from serious information overload. 

The second reason is that I need more than one look at a painting.  I really appreciated going back to see JayDubya's paintings for a second time at his exhibition in Ashby.  See this post from May

Now, I appreciate the Louvre is another ball game, and it's not at all  expensive at €11 for a day's entry, but if it were free I would probably have gone in for an hour today, and another hour or two later in the week.  And I'd be more inclined to buy merchandise, and overpriced cups of coffee as well.

A compromise - they could make you pay the first time, then allow you up to four more visits within a month.  Lots of people wouldn't be in a position to do that, I suppose, but for those who could, it would be wonderful.

To be fair the Louvre and many other museums do offer a free entry day on the first Sunday of each month.

Les Mécènes

Patrons or sponsors -named after a certain Gaius Cilnius Maecenas, an ally, friend and advisor to Octavian, and patron of poets.

Seen in the Louvre at the top of lists of sponsors or patrons. 

Octogenarian on a motorbike

Riding home from India, Simon Gandolfi blogs his adventure.  And writes beautifully to boot.

Gunpowder, treason and an unfinished building

Until recently I had little idea how closely involved Northamptonshire notables were in the plot to overthrow King James I and VI.  Throughout the reign of Elizabeth I, Catholics had to keep their heads down if they wanted to keep them on their shoulders.

One Northamptonshire Catholic was the wealthy landowner, Thomas Tresham. He spent around 15 years in prison or under house arrest, and had to pay huge fines because he would not deny his faith.  He was by no means an ascetic, and found time and energy not only to father eleven children, but also to design and construct Lyveden New Bield -designed around significant numbers for Catholics: three – the Trinity; five – the wounds of Christ; and seven – the days of the creation, the deadly sins, the cardinal virtues and so on.

The New Bield was to be a summer house, to entertain his guests. It was linked to the main house, the Old Bield, by a walk through carefully planned gardens – orchards, a moat, and raised mounds for admiring the grounds.

The building was never completed.   Thomas died in September 1605 and his son Francis was involved in the Gunpowder Plot, and imprisoned later in the year. Francis died in prison in December in “mysterious circumstances”. After these deaths, the workmen realised they wouldn’t be paid, and downed tools.

A younger son, Lewis frittered away much of the remaining family fortune.  The building now belongs to the National Trust, who have restored the gardens with an orchard of old varieties of fruit, as planned by Tresham, a moat and landscaped mounts leading to the summer lodge.

Servants entrance into the basement where kitchens etc were - This is lower than 5'6" now

servants' entrance - hidden from the view of guests by the raised banks

A lone duckling - it later followed its mother and siblings to the other part of the moat.

The reflection would be perfect if only the wind dropped

Food for fish and ducks? Tadpoles galore!

Old dogs and new tricks

I am having fun with Memrise.com - learning to recognise pieces of classical music, and name the composer.  Yes, they're short snippets, but I am learning some of them, and when I hear the whole thing on the radio I listen more carefully.  The other day, I was driving along and recognised Chopin's Waltz no. 1 in E flat.  But will it stick?

I've often used music and songs to help me learn words, now I find I'm putting words to some of the music to help me to remember the title and composer!

Next thing - learning some of the constellations.