Au musée d'Orsay

Sunday was first Sunday (free) for most of the national museums, and we had saved the D'Orsay and its Van Gogh/Artaud exhibit for the occasion. The D'Orsay has an unfortunate no fotos policy with which I more or less complied. More or less.

The Van Gogh/Artaud exhibit was a truly wonderful
collection of the artist's later works, attempting to
illustrate Artaud's thesis that Van Gogh had been
"suicided" by society; fortunately, you don't have
to buy Artaud's theory to appreciate the exhibit; it
(Artaud) is another example of French logique ("the
complete absence of reference to the work Foucault
demonstrates the all-pervasiveness of his thought")

For me, the D'Orsay is another place where the building is
nearly as interesting as the collection

Vicki and I do Impressionism at different paces, but agreed
to meet here in the middle of our visit

Not surprisingly, this was the one painting
Grandma wanted a photo of, a Renoir tea
party; Maman later observed the little girl
had the forearms of a steel-worker

Fortunately, they don't seem to mind your taking pix from
the museum

One of the truly great up-cyclings

Bourgereau's Les Oreades, 1902, otherwise
known as "In your dreams, fauns and satyrs!"

Au parc

Saturday we undertook a big walk in the Latin Quarter, primarily for Rebecca to buy some French books for Penelope, who will begin French immersion school in a few weeks (...so deflating to think that this 3-year-old will know more French by Christmas than I can ever hope for, even though I'm approaching Level 10 on Duolingo and have a 49-day streak going...quel dommage).

Our day began outside the Charonne Metro station, watching
a pause in "Parade of the Tropics"; seen one parade, seen one
too many, I always say

P has her uncooperative moments...here
refusing a photo before the Fountain of St.
Michel

Just as P looks up to see if I am still shooting,
the girl in the upper left executes her jump...

In the bookstore, P peruses the Princess
books, quickly finding her current favorite,
Snow White

Meet me at the sign of the copper pots

Outside a chocolate store on Boulevard St. Germain: a
chocolate Mini for Maman...Rebecca's car in high school was
a 74 Mini that had been registered in France

P exercising on a Metro exhaust vent on the boulevard;
like most 3-year-olds, she loves to run

Later, we find a playground at the park at Sevres-Babylone,
just outside the Bon Marche

French playgrounds are the best and always have appropriate
age restrictions

On the slide

And playing in the sand, still a favorite activity; while
Maman et Grand-mere do some more shopping

Saturday afternoon at the playground

Passages de Paris

After Rachel left for her return flight to the US, we did a long walk in the 2nd, taking in some of the city's famous passages, or covered shopping arcades, most dating to the earlier 19th century. Below is a sampling.

In the Palais Royale

Thus

In the Passage Vivienne

Thus; one of the better toy stores was
around the corner

Reminders of home...

OK, some work is needed

The Bourse

Passage Jourffroy

Best toy store, so far, at least for princess things, doll house
things, miniatures, in Passage Jouffroy, Pain d'Epices,
http://www.paindepices.fr/

And now in the Passage Panorama, across the
street, mostly cafes and restaurants

Un long et peut-être dernière post sur le cimetière du Père Lachaise; 2014

Rachel is the historian in the family, and during her stay with us she read a good bit of French and Parisian history. One of her books concluded with an eloquent epilogue on the Pere Lachaise cemetery--where much of French and Parisian history is interred--and she wanted to visit once more to see some of the things she had earlier missed. Rebecca, the literary daughter, wanted to see some of the writers, so we three ventured once more to Pere Lachaise. We found nearly everything we were looking for, and more, but never did find the site of Leon Blum, France's prime minister in the turbulent 1930s, a socialist, and a Jew, who actually held the office on two occasions, both before and after WWII. During the war, the Germans arrested him, "tried" him at a trial that became of mockery of their cause in France, then deported him first to Buchenwald, then Dachau, then to the Tyrol. His future wife came to live with him at Buchenwald. Miraculously, he survived all this, including an execution order, returned to France, and was re-elected, again. Next time, right, Rachel? We live close to the Place Leon Blum.

Main entrance to Pere Lachaise

Seeing this at a distance, I had to remind
myself that Hector Guimard was buried in
NYC, not Paris; he designed this site, however;
unmistakably

Best neo-classical, so far

Smallest marker, so far

Still my favorite, Chopin; evidently other
peoples' favorite too

Denon, Rachel informed us, was director of
the Louvre after the Revolution, had the joy
of receiving all the goods curated by Napoleon,
then the sorrow of losing most of them as
reparations after Napoleon's fall; best of times,
worst of times...

"No, Frodo, the spirit of Sauron endured..."

Best dressed, so far

"Well,, he was of two minds about his tomb..."

Best Mark Twain impersonator; note
boutonniere provided by some thoughtful
wit

"This space available"; actually, some spaces are available,
for a five year period, after which your bones are deposited
in an ossuary 

Guillotine victim

In the southeast quadrant of the cemetery one
is far more inclined to seriousness and reflection;
this is where the many memorials to war dead,
Holocaust dead, political prisoners, and so on,
are located

Thus

And thus

Where leaders of the 1871 Commune were stood against
the wall and shot

Where you can spread the ashes of your loved one; no, that's
not a streak of fertilizer dust...

Alice B. Toklas on the flip side

Balzac

One of the more eclectic (architecturally)

Yippeeeeee!

Colette