We slept late and, after our usual breakfast, headed out to the Orangerie. We'd planned to take the Metro but Emma campaigned for the BatoBus, which is certainly prettier. Also slower. We had a leisurely trip down the Seine to the Champs d'Elysee stop (and no, we didn't see or hear anything about the Uber protests). From there it was a short walk around the Place de la Concorde and into the museum, where there was no line at all. I wonder if that was due to the traffic convulsions from the protest. We didn't complain, in any case.
The Orangerie has been renovated since my last visit. No worries - Monet's masterworks are still in residence.
I shouldn't have tried. I couldn't resist.
Downstairs, there's the Walter-Guillaume collection, started by an influential Paris art dealer in the early 20th century and continued by his widow after her marriage to "an industrialist". What do industrialists do, anyway?
I spent a long time at the wall of Renoir canvases. Visually stunning. I hadn't realized how domestic his paintings are - children playing, piano lessons, a mother and her small child working with bread dough. In this context, even the still life paintings seem to show a moment in time in the artist's kitchen, rather than an intellectual study. I could have looked at that gallery for days.
There are some interesting early-ish Picassos - not yet abstract or Cubist. Very figural and somewhat Expressionist. There were several very large female figures. It's been a long time since I've looked at a collection of Picasso canvases in person. I've come to think of him as a political figure, as a symbol of 20th-century art, and as a misogynist. The scale and size and sheer beauty of the women in his paintings took my breath away. I remembered Picasso's fame and forgot his art. Now I wish we had time for the Picasso museum...next trip!
The other part of the collection that held my interest was the room of Utrillo canvases. My mother loved Utrillo, and my father loved Berlioz. This is for them.
The House of Berlioz, Maurice Utrillo
By the time we finished walking through the museum (including a temporary exhibition of an early 20th-century Italian sculptor), it was after 1:00. We were hot, tired and hungry. Today was the warmest day of our trip so far - mid-80s. Emma wanted pasta carbonara for lunch and I wanted to visit the Cluny Museum, so we headed back to the Latin Quarter on the BatoBus and returned to the restaurant near the Sorbonne where we had lunch the first day.
Then we walked down the hill to the Cluny Museum, which occupies the site of a Greco/Roman bathhouse dating from the 2nd or 3rd century of the common era. The museum houses medieval and ancient art and artifacts from all over Paris, including several pieces from the early days of Notre Dame and some stained glass from St Chappelle.
Heads of the Kings of Judah, from the 13th century of the common era, Notre Dame.
We left the Cluny Museum and walked back to le Marais for ice cream. By this time I had to acknowledge that I didn't feel well. I thought we'd cut our day short, and then I realized we got back to the apartment at 4:30 after visiting two museums and eating lunch. A full day. We had takeout here (foccaccia pizza for Emma and me, shawarma for David).
While we haven't seen any of the protests, the agent for the apartment, the inestimable Louis, is concerned that the resulting chaos may interfere with our departure plans. We have an early flight on Saturday morning, and our original plan was that the large luggage would be picked up tomorrow and the driver would come for us at 5:20 AM on Saturday. We now have just-in-case reservations at an airport hotel and Louis will let us know tomorrow if we need them.
On that note, I'm taking my cough and sore throat to bed. And yes, I do know (thanks to good friends) that pharmacists in France can give medical advice. and I will consult someone tomorrow if I think I need medication to tolerate the trip home.
Bonne nuit. Think calming thoughts for the Parisian taxi drivers.
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