the last week...

Goodbyes are the worst, aren't they? We're pretty sure we will be returning to Paris, maybe two summers from now, but we've had such a wonderful time that it's hard to leave!

My time at the library was largely a bust, but I'm relieved that I know how everything works now, if nothing else. I went and requested some of the sources I wanted to look at, but the librarians couldn't figure out where they were. Finally they realized they were off being digitized, and in fact most everything else I was curious about already had been! So I spent some time paging through what was already available, and will check back again in a couple of weeks to see what's been added. I haven't found anything particularly useful, but there were photos from the premiere of Poulenc's Gloria that were fun to see.

One useful bit of info: I've been debating how to pronounce Poulenc's name for years, and after hearing unanimous pronunciation in France, the case is closed. Poulahnk it is (not Poulaynk)!

Yesterday (Wednesday) evening, we had our concert at Schola Cantorum, which went about as well as it could have. If non-singers just aren't into it, there seems to be nothing you can do about it, even if they are highly skilled musicians! On the plus side, I was quite impressed with the student compositions we put together: interesting harmonies, pretty good voice leading, and well-chosen texts will do it! One question (that will explain the state of the group): if a composition professor from Julliard tells you he doesn't know what they would've done without your singing, that can go on a CV, right? ;)

We were also grateful to Bruce and Nancy Morgan for coming to the concert (and for sending the photo below)! I neglected to mention the lovely dinner we had at their apartment at the American Church on Bastille Day. They will be missed at Prairie Baptist for the next six months, but they will certainly be having a delightful time here!

I've also been puttering around, filling in a few gaps here and there of things I had left to see. So I'll leave you with a smattering of photos...

Getting ready for the last stage of the Tour de France on Sunday morning. We did not attend any of the race, but I got off the metro near Champs Élysées on my way to the American Cathedral for church. Very heavy police presence, as you might expect! 

Interior of the American Cathedral, when I realized I have no idea what Missouri's flag looks like...

That afternoon we went to an organ recital at Saint-Eustache, which is in the 1st arrondissement near Les Halles, which used to be a large produce market. 

Mozart chose this church for his mother's funeral when she died in Paris, Louis XIV took communion here, and Berlioz and Liszt both had choral works premiered here. 

 This doesn't do the organ justice. It was a serious instrument. Some 8,000 pipes, supposed to be the largest in France! 

During late July and August, one of the roads along the Seine is closed for Paris plages, or Paris beaches. They even bring in palm trees...  

This is the kitty I made friends with in our courtyard. I haven't seen this one for a few days but have since made friends with a larger, fluffy white cat, who climbed up to lick my face when I knelt down to pet him/her. I... might have a cat problem. 

 Nearer to our apartment is Saint-Étienne-du-mont, where Maurice Duruflé, composer of my favorite requiem (I can't really believe I'm saying that either, Brahms...), worked for most of his career. 

 

The building itself is famous for its choir screen, the only one extant in Paris. 

 Wish we could have heard the organ!

I was chilly one afternoon and happened to pass a Starbucks as I changed from bus to metro at Gare Montparnasse... apparently this is the French spelling of Sara! By the way, after having so many morning cups of chocolat chaud from our boulangerie that were tiny but still satisfying, even a "tall" seemed gluttonous. Oh America. 

I paid a quick visit to the garden at the Rodin Museum, where sits the Thinker... and other statues with names I have forgotten... 

The Gates of Hell, based on Dante and originally commissioned for a modern art museum that never happened. How cool would that have been?? The detail is quite extraordinary... and a bit terrifying.  

The 2016 EAMA conductors with Dr. Shapiro (and a smiling Steve!). 

This afternoon, Steve and I went on a tour of Opera Garner, which was great! What an over-the-top, ridiculous place. Our excellent tour guide, Melissa, pointed out that it was built during the time of Napoleon III in the late 19th century to let people see and be seen, not with the music in mind. Not really surprising considering French opera at mid-century, perhaps?

 Tough to make out, but the architect, Charles Garnier, put his name and the years of the project in this fancy ceiling in the room where the bourgeoisie would first enter. After all, what better way to advertise your skills? 

 So much marble!!

 

My favorite part was the awesome Chagall ceiling in the hall itself (which I couldn't get a good picture of from where we were). It's made of 24 panels that cover the old neoclassical ceiling that had gotten dirty from years of gas lamps and smoking patrons. It went up in the 60s and consists of a series of opera scenes. It doesn't fit with the rest of the building at all, to be sure, but it's so beautiful that who cares? So cool. 

 Beautiful mosaic ceiling made by imported Venetian artists.

 Can't remember the name of this room, but was just for men - eyeroll - and meant to evoke the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles. 

Steve wanted to rest after dinner tonight, but I went on a last stroll to Ile de Saint-Louis to try some Berthillon ice cream (quite good!) and start to say goodbye. I've loved seeing this view almost every day SO MUCH! Already can't wait to come back... 

Today, yesterday, and two weeks ago... catching up!

After being pre-approved to come interview for my reader's card at BnF (France's national library) last week, today I went for said "interview." I was incredibly nervous for reasons that aren't entirely clear to me, other than I'm so embarrassed about my spoken French, which seems to be getting worse instead of better. I am such a head case! Despite the fact that the interviewer seemed annoyed that I was there, he did speak English and was polite. Just no smile. Sigh.

Anyway, I have my reader's card and I've paid for three days of access, so we'll see what I can find out tomorrow morning in the music department! So far I'll mostly be looking through Poulenc's collection of photo albums to see if he has pictures of Rocamadour, or recorded any thoughts about that trip. He may also have items from premieres of some of the pieces I'm interested in... we'll see!

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Yesterday I went to church at the American Cathedral in Paris, an episcopal church, after hearing from someone at the American Church that the priests were excellent. Also, a little research led me to believe the choir keeps singing through the summer... that turned out to be wrong, but I'm so glad I went.

Despite the fact that the service was of course as strictly liturgical as any episcopal service I've been to, there was a lot of intentional silence built in. At Prairie, and really in America generally, sometimes we worry too much about flowing from one element to another as if we're afraid of quiet time. Obviously intentional silence and awkward silence are different, but I appreciated, for example, that the readings all had space to breathe, giving us time to absorb and reflect. It literally said in the bulletin, "Silence is kept."

Additionally, the sermon was excellent. They haven't updated the website with Reverend Mary Haddad's message yet, but I hope at some point it will be online. She opened talking about the seemingly endless tragedies of the summer, and how all the politicians post their "thoughts and prayers" after every one. She brought up a newspaper headline that said "God isn't fixing this," and challenged us to reconsider our beliefs about the nature of God and prayer. The scriptures included the story of Abraham bargaining with God to save Sodom for the sake of ten righteous people, rather than the fifty God originally said it would take to save the city from destruction. That certainly is not the God most of us believe in today; Haddad pointed out that we don't live in the ancient world and it's okay. She then talked about an idea I don't remembering hearing about before: prayer as paying attention to ourselves and our surroundings, rather than a litany of words, or waiting for words from God. (If someone out there reading this wants to shout at the screen "I've said that so many times why don't you listen?" I'm sorry!) She closed with a moving story about being on the train the day after the tragedy in Nice. It stopped at noon to observe a minute of silence for the victims, and after her brain agreed that this would not make her late for her yoga class, she was able to pay attention to how she felt, to the people around her. When the minute passed, her eyes met with a twenty-something man across the aisle, and, unusually for Paris, they actually half smiled at each other. That moment, she said, was so much more meaningful to her than any spoken prayer, as that stranger had become her neighbor.

She said it all so much more eloquently than that summary, but it was perfectly timed. I'm just so glad I was there to hear it. All this sad news has been so hard to take.

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Last but not least, there are two other sites that I visited about two weeks ago that got lost in the shuffle. Before Mom and I left on our trip, I made a brief visit to the Louvre and Steve and I climbed the towers of Notre-Dame (at the first look-out point he said, "Did I ever tell you that I'm afraid of heights?" What a good sport!). Climbing the towers far exceeded expectations, especially since we ended up climbing just after sunset, but I found the Louvre overwhelming and not really worth it if I hadn't stretched my museum pass. I've never walked past so much art in my life.

 Venus de Milo

If I remember correctly, this is from the Parthenon in Athens. We westerners sure did plunder... Understatement of the last millennium...

Tiberius, emperor of Rome during Jesus' time 

Winged Victory; Greek sculpture of Nike from the 2nd century BC 

Everybody gets so worked up about Mona Lisa, but there were several other Da Vinci's in the collection that were more interesting, I thought... 

...ESPECIALLY this one! Who cares about Mona Lisa when there's La belle ferronnière? 

I do love Raphael.  

 Raphael + St. George + dragon = winner

Eyeroll. I did wade through the crowd and get closer, but a picture seemed pointless.  

Later that evening... 

Loved these gargoyles so much! 

 Possibly my favorite picture of the trip. 

day trip to Normandy

I had one more big thing to check off my sight-seeing list: Monet's garden in Giverny and Rouen Cathedral.

By 8:15 I was on a train from Paris to Vernon, where I rented a bike and rode the 30 minutes to Giverny. After only one wrong turn, I asked for directions and got myself across the Seine and onto a delightful bike path into the small town of Giverny.

 

It was also an absolutely gorgeous morning! Really couldn't have asked for better weather, just would've been nice to have a friend along (cough Emily Johnson cough).  

Monet's garden was crowded but not unbearable, especially since it covered much more ground than I expected. And it smelled wonderful! A smattering from the gorgeous jumble of flowers...

On the way back, I stopped at the small church where the Monets have their family plot.

 Also in the graveyard. The placard at the foot of the monument reads: "During the night of the 7th and 8th of June 1944, a Royal Air Force Lancaster bomber crashed in flames to the south of the village, in the "Plaine des Ajoux." This statue displays a propeller blade from the aircraft to pay homage to the seven crew lying in our cemetery. Their sacrifice led to our liberty today. This monument stands as in testimony to the crew and is a symbol of the admiration and gratitude of the people of Giverny."

Inside the church I lit a candle for my grandmother, Annamae, who passed away in November because my goodness would she have loved it there. I suppose she's a big reason that I loved it so much, considering she was a painter and avid gardener!

After yet another delicious vegetable quiche in Vernon, I got back on the train to head to Rouen, another 40 minutes away. I headed on Rick Steves' guided walk as always, and enjoyed exploring the city whose biggest claim to fame is that it was where Joan of Arc was tried, convicted, and burned at the stake. 

The cross marks where she was burned at the stake in 1431, and the Church of Saint Joan of Arc was completed in 1979. On the other side of the church are ruins of a 15th-century church that was destroyed during WWII. The church was really beautiful, and incorporated 16th-century stained glass from the aforementioned church.

Down the street is Le Gros-Horlage, the great clock. The mechanism is from the 14th! century, but the face of the clock dates from 1529.

There was an excellent little museum that covered the clock and the mechanism, which is actually in the belfry to the right, with the giant (2-3 ton!) bells.  

I couldn't get a good picture of the other one that actually is rung (well, struck), but here's the slightly smaller one in the belfry. Rick warned that if you are in the tower when the hour is struck, it's pretty dang loud, so I made sure I got to the top of the tower before 3 p.m. Well, the hour came, and some smaller bells rang from the very top, and nothing else. I was a bit puzzled and started down the steps after a couple minutes. Thankfully I didn't make it down to the room where the bells are, because it struck at 3:03 and still scared the bejeezus out of me. I went into the little room as it was still reverberating after the third strike, and I could feel that in my bones! What an unexpectedly fun little adventure.

 View from about halfway up the tower toward Rouen Cathedral.

View from the top of the belfry. 

I made my way down the very commercial yet picturesque streets (thanks to the half-timbered upper floors of the buildings) to the Cathedral that Monet painted so many times:

It's a remarkably intricate facade that has been through a lot. The cathedral was heavily damaged during WWII thanks to seven direct hits, but you wouldn't know that today unless someone pointed out the places were you can tell they patched things up. 

Fun fact: they let you think Richard the Lionheart is buried here, but it's just his heart. Unless the epitaph says that since I can't handle Latin. French is hard enough, please. 

 Fun fact #2: Some 13th-century stained glass did survive WWII! Much of the rest of the Cathedral has clear glass now. It's interesting that other cathedrals, like Tours, have replaced much of the stained glass that was destroyed by Allied bombs... I'm curious as to why they decided not to do that in Rouen. Granted, it would be a big project, and it does let a lot more light into the building. 

Here's a photo I found on a website about the monuments men of the damaged cathedral: 

So sad.

But the good news is it was able to be fixed. Although you can may notice that the rose window above the organ has no color... all the colored glass was lost in the bombing, but they were able to restore the rest. 

 This statue outside made me chuckle. I guess the little creature on her left shoulder is supposed to be devious, but I don't think I'd mind having it around! Ewok? Oh, this might be my gargoyle problem... 

A few shots of Rouen's lovely streets:

After poking around another church, Rick directed me to a courtyard that houses a plague cemetery. This cross marks the spot where there is a mass grave used when nearly 2/3s of Rouen's population was lost to the plague. TWO THIRDS. I'm remembering now that he said this is/was a well......... that doesn't sound like a good idea.

The woodwork around the courtyard had such delightfully macabre carvings! The building surrounding the courtyard is now an art school, which seems perfect.

Last but not least, I went into Rouen's Museum of Fine Arts, where I saw a couple more paintings by Berthe Morisot that made me tear up, like this one (couldn't actually take a picture, found this one on a fascinating blog post about Morisot):

SO BEAUTIFUL. They didn't have this one in a magnet or postcard... Grumble. 

The museum also had another of Monet's Rouen Cathedral studies:

Does that bring my total to six or seven of twenty-four? Pretty good, either way. New life goal? Possibly.

On my way back to the train station, I spotted the Joan of Arc Tower, where she was held prisoner. It survived WWII and is a museum now. I should also mention that there is a full Joan of Arc museum now near the Cathedral that is quite good, according to Rick Steves, but I was running a little short on time, so I skipped it. Sorry, Joan!

I was back in Paris by 7:30, just in time to head out for dinner, when I ordered yet another salade de chèvre chaude (salad with warm goat cheese) because I'm completely obsessed. (May or may not have ordered one tonight, too. Okay I did.)

YUM! What a completely wonderful day. So glad I made sure to take this adventure!