a rainy day in paris
february 20, 2011
Salaam Dear Ones,
A soft rain fell intermittently all day yesterday giving us cause to examine how to spend our time. The previous day we had consumed the Louvre walking for miles in circles. On our way there, just as we popped out of the Metro, a gypsy lady gave an Oscar winning performance as she feigned surprise at finding a golden ring on the sidewalk as we passed each other, jumped for joy at her good fortune as we congratulated her, ran back to us a few seconds later to show us that the ring was too big for her fingers, graciously insisting that we keep it, as she kissed us on each cheek. Meanwhile Aenni is chiming in "You must take it to zee Fundbureau" and I am ogling this thing wondering if it's real gold. Then she starts asking us for a donation, and it hits us. She's scamming us. This amazing performance is a scam. After about ten no's to her pleas for a donation, anger flashed across her previously delighted face, and she lightly stomped off. Call the Academy because this woman missed her calling. I have never seen a finer performance. Surprise, delight, glee, selflessness, tenderness, generosity. She flitted from one emotion to another at a spellbinding pace. And then, at the end, a tiny cloudburst of anger, and she was gone. I couldn't even be mad at her, I was so dazzled by her, and I kept reflecting on her skill all day.
The day was spent, as I mentioned, at the Louvre which we approached by walking through this incredible park that runs along the Seine. Paris is full of grand public spaces, and although crammed with people, Paris opens repeatedly into huge expanses of light and air with gardens and ponds and sculpture parks and plazas. There's a grandeur to the proportions that is unlike anything I have ever experienced. New York City with its skyscrapers feels pinched and stingy compared to Paris. I understand the arrogance of the people now. The wide streets that form radiant stars, the enormous buildings that occupy entire blocks and are encrusted with bas reliefs, the huge parks filled with grand sculptures, all this gives you the idea that you are really something. That being part of the human race entitles you to all this beauty, freely, just because you are alive. It shapes your mind set to be around such expansive, expressive human grandeur.
What can I say about the Louvre that hasn't already been said a million times? It is crammed with the art that we have grown up with in textbooks. The building itself is a work of art. The people walking around in it are a work of art. And the art itself is staggering and goes on forever. As I remembered from almost forty years ago, the Mona Lisa is indeed the size of a postage stamp, and I really don't get what all the fuss is about, but so it goes.
Now I must switch gears and seize the day. It's off to the Rodin Museum. More to come. I promise.
Sending all my love,
fattie
A soft rain fell intermittently all day yesterday giving us cause to examine how to spend our time. The previous day we had consumed the Louvre walking for miles in circles. On our way there, just as we popped out of the Metro, a gypsy lady gave an Oscar winning performance as she feigned surprise at finding a golden ring on the sidewalk as we passed each other, jumped for joy at her good fortune as we congratulated her, ran back to us a few seconds later to show us that the ring was too big for her fingers, graciously insisting that we keep it, as she kissed us on each cheek. Meanwhile Aenni is chiming in "You must take it to zee Fundbureau" and I am ogling this thing wondering if it's real gold. Then she starts asking us for a donation, and it hits us. She's scamming us. This amazing performance is a scam. After about ten no's to her pleas for a donation, anger flashed across her previously delighted face, and she lightly stomped off. Call the Academy because this woman missed her calling. I have never seen a finer performance. Surprise, delight, glee, selflessness, tenderness, generosity. She flitted from one emotion to another at a spellbinding pace. And then, at the end, a tiny cloudburst of anger, and she was gone. I couldn't even be mad at her, I was so dazzled by her, and I kept reflecting on her skill all day.
The day was spent, as I mentioned, at the Louvre which we approached by walking through this incredible park that runs along the Seine. Paris is full of grand public spaces, and although crammed with people, Paris opens repeatedly into huge expanses of light and air with gardens and ponds and sculpture parks and plazas. There's a grandeur to the proportions that is unlike anything I have ever experienced. New York City with its skyscrapers feels pinched and stingy compared to Paris. I understand the arrogance of the people now. The wide streets that form radiant stars, the enormous buildings that occupy entire blocks and are encrusted with bas reliefs, the huge parks filled with grand sculptures, all this gives you the idea that you are really something. That being part of the human race entitles you to all this beauty, freely, just because you are alive. It shapes your mind set to be around such expansive, expressive human grandeur.
What can I say about the Louvre that hasn't already been said a million times? It is crammed with the art that we have grown up with in textbooks. The building itself is a work of art. The people walking around in it are a work of art. And the art itself is staggering and goes on forever. As I remembered from almost forty years ago, the Mona Lisa is indeed the size of a postage stamp, and I really don't get what all the fuss is about, but so it goes.
Now I must switch gears and seize the day. It's off to the Rodin Museum. More to come. I promise.
Sending all my love,
fattie