Gustave Caillebotte's Floor Scrapers

Gustave Caillebotte, The Floor Scrapers 1875
Musée d'Orsay, Paris (wikicommons)

This is one of my favourite paintings. 

Named in French as Les raboteurs de parquet, The Floor Scrapers was painted painting by French Impressionist Gustave Caillebotte in 1875. It was painted in oil on canvas and measures 102 by 146.5 centimetres (40.2 in × 57.7 in).

In the scene, the observer stands above three workers on hands and knees, scraping a wooden floor in a bourgeois apartment—now believed to be Caillebotte's own studio at 77, rue de Miromesnil, in the 8th arrondissement of Paris.

This is one of the first paintings of the time to feature the urban working class. Instead of the heroes of antiquity, here are the heroes of modern life—sinewy and strong—in stooped poses that would appear demeaning if they did not convey a sense of masculine strength and honest labor.

Sadly, Caillebotte's magnificent work was rejected by France's most prestigious art exhibition, the Salon, when he first showed it, but this was common of the times, when anything nearing nudity was considered vulgar. The painting received praise from many critics, though.

I first saw this painting at the Musée d'Orsay during my first visit to the city. I was entirely captivated and enthralled, and kept returning to it to look again. The quality of the light and the reflections were stunning. More recently, when I re-discovered the painting (I had lost the name of the artist and artwork for many yars!), I have come to appreciate the artist's use of perspective. 

More about the work on Wikipedia

Musée d'Orsay's write-up on the work

Great description of the work on TheHistoryOfArt.org

Bio of the artist on Brittanica.com featuring the work

 

A Moveable Feast

I've been reading a lot of Hemingway lately, as well as biographies about him, so I really enjoyed reading A Moveable Feast for a book club.

A Moveable Feast is a 1964 memoir belles-lettres by American author Ernest Hemingway about his years as a struggling expat journalist and writer in Paris during the 1920s. 

In November 1956, Hemingway recovered two small steamer trunks that he had stored in March 1928 in the basement of the Hôtel Ritz Paris. The trunks contained notebooks he had filled during the 1920s. Having recovered his trunks, Hemingway had the notebooks transcribed, and then began working them up into the memoir that would eventually become A Moveable Feast.

The memoir was published posthumously in 1964, three years after Hemingway's death, by his fourth wife and widow, Mary Hemingway, based upon his original manuscripts and notes. An edition altered and revised by his grandson, Seán Hemingway, was published in 2009.

The book details Hemingway's first marriage to Hadley Richardson and his associations with other cultural figures of the Lost Generation in Interwar France.

The memoir consists of various personal accounts by Hemingway and involves many notable figures of the time, such as Sylvia Beach, Hilaire Belloc, Bror von Blixen-Finecke, Aleister Crowley, John Dos Passos, F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Ford Madox Ford, James Joyce, Wyndham Lewis, Pascin, Ezra Pound, Evan Shipman, Gertrude Stein, Alice B. Toklas and Hermann von Wedderkop. The work also references the addresses of specific locations such as bars, cafes, and hotels, many of which can still be found in Paris today.

The title of A Moveable Feast (a play on words for the term used for a holy day for which the date is not fixed) was suggested by Hemingway's friend and biographer A. E. Hotchner, who remembered Hemingway using the term in 1950.

A Moveable Feast is a play on words for the term used for a holy day for which the date is not fixed.

I have always been curious about the phrase A Moveable Feast... and had long discussions about the origins of this term with a friend, so I was glad to find this last tidbit!

Opera Garnier learnings

I have been a fan of the Opera Garnier since I stumbled upon it early into my month in Paris in 2009. I was already blown away by the building when I looked up and first set eyes on Chagall's remarkable ceiling. I gushed at the time, and have since acquired a tremendous print of the ceiling (yet to be framed) and a book or two.

Yet, despite learning that construction began in the 1860's, I never really thought about how that Chagall got there.

Then, this morning, reading an old copy of a Sunday NY Times left over from a vacation (I buy a copy and read it front to back over a week, and unfinished sections set aside... one of which just surfaced), I had a major ah ha moment:

"Among the theater's most famous fixtures are the chandelier and the painted ceiling that surrounds it ~ originally by Jules Eugène Lenepveu, then replaced in 1964 with a new sprawling work by Marc Chagall depicting scenes from operas by Mozart, Wagner and more."
Behind the Curtain at the Paris Opera, New York Times, September 8, 2019

Of course!!!!

Balzac's home in Paris

Novelist Honoré de Balzac's home
Photo copyright Peter's Paris

Add this to your list of off-the-beaten-track sights to see in Paris, courtesy of my favourite Paris blog...

"The house where the novelist Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850) lived for some seven years (1840-47) has recently been reopened after some restoration works. This is where he finalised a large part of his famous “La Comédie Humaine”, some 91 stories, novels, essays… How many have you read? I have only read one, “The Père Goriot” (Old Goriot). Balzac always lived beyond his means and, as he now and then had some unwanted visitors, he was happy to live in a house with several exits, including to the small narrow street on the back side. We are in the Passy area of Paris, in the 16th arrondissement, and this old little house is now surrounded by fashionable apartment buildings..." [read more on Peter's Paris].

Balzac's statue in
the Cimetière
du Père-Lachaise

To visit
The Maison de Balzac is located in the 16th arrondissement at 47, rue Raynouard (nearest métro and RER stations are Passy and Avenue du Président Kennedy) - open daily except Mondays and holidays (admission free)/
Maison de Balzac - Paris Convention and Visitors Bureau
Maison de Balzac Profile and Visitor's Guide - Trip Savvy
Back to Balzac - Literary Traveler


To learn more
Balzac's Paris - a Guided Tour - University of California
Balzac's Paris: History and Modern Walking Tout

Review: Pictures at an Exhibition

Pictures at an Exhibition by Sara Houghteling
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The art world post WWII
I really enjoyed this book, and my only complaint was that it wasn't longer. Set in Paris on the heels of World War II, the story provides unique insights on what the city was like at the time when concentration camp horrors were just coming to light, and those who had gone underground for years were reemerging. Who had survived and who hadn't was still unknown. Owners were returning to the homes they fled only to find them occupied, abandoned after serving as Nazi facilities, or destroyed. I haven't encountered many books that captured this time so well. It is against this setting that the story is set. The son of an art dealer scours the city, looking for works that had belonged to his family, unearthing forgeries and family secrets as he goes. And, yes, re-finding his lost love and slowly learning of the lengths she went to save great works of art, disguised as an obedient clerk in the Louvre. A great listen for art and history fans.

View all my reviews

Review: The Paris Architect

The Paris Architect by Charles Belfoure
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Such a complelling book!
I loved this book, all while it broke my heart, and fed my soul. As soon as the book starts, wham, you are taken immediately to the horrors of World War II in Paris, as Jews are torn from their homes. This experienced through the words and eyes of a little girl, and how she tries to save the life of her little brother in a hiding place they used for hide and seek. Fast forward 3 or 4 years, and the theme of hiding continues, as we learn the story of the architect who risked his life creating places to hide jews in Paris. Fast forward to almost modern times, and the stories that unfold as a woman and her husband get ready to move into the home that was once that of the little girl who hid her brother. Many twists and turns, compelling characters, and insights into the stories from Paris in wartime. Brilliant.

View all my reviews

Review: L'Appart

L'Appart: The Delights and Disasters of Making My Paris Home by David Lebovitz
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Ah, an apartment in Paris! How lovely! Or maybe not...
David Lebovitz has a way with words. Maybe it was the thought of an apartment in Paris that grabbed me, but he even had me listening to recipes, with pleasure (and I don't cook!). Equal parts appalling and amusing, follow David as he buys and renovates an old flat in Paris. OMG! This should be MANDATORY reading if you are even thinking of doing the same. I swear you will be too frightened to do it, which is probably a good thing. For someone like me, however, I learned a lot more about the quirkiness of Paris, Parisians, and the French. Nothing is as simple as you can imagine. An enjoyable light read.

View all my reviews

Trip Reflections: Paris, Picasso and Heartstrings (a year ago)

A year ago today I was in Paris and in Picasso heaven.

That's where this picture was taken, in the sculpture garden at the Picasso Museum. I can still remember how excited and inspired I was that very day. To read my blog post from Paris on August 21, 2009 on my day with Picasso there, click here.

I feel so lucky to have seen the Picasso museum in Paris, as it is now closed until sometime in 2011. That's bad news for those in Paris, but it's good news for people around the world who will see some of it's 500 Picasso works in a travelling exhibition. I understand it has been in Helsinki and Moscow so far, and is still overseas. The exhibition is coming to the Seattle Art Museum in October and I think it just might be reason for a road trip (with some nudges from my sissy).

So... back to Paris. All told (or is that "all tolled"?), I was there about a month, and it was heaven. HEAVEN.

What great fun it was to have my niece Branwen visit me for my time there. And what a year it has been for her since then. She hadn't yet graduated from her jewellry program and we spent many an hour having cafe au lait and pain au chocolat - in our fav cafe - and talking about what she would do when that day came. How awesome is it that today she has her own studio, a website (branwenkemp.com) and her Chicadora line is a smash hit at art shows and at Favorites in North Vancouver. I remember going to a flea market in Paris with her where she was hunting out old silver spoons; she'd begun making them into jewelry... and today her spoon rings are constantly selling out. I love mine. And I still can't believe all that has transpired for her in that time.

Some fav moments and memories:

• Our sweet little apartment in the Marais, and how we would greet each other with "Bonjour Madame", calling out the window when the other came home and entered the courtyard below
• Paris Plages, and my meal on banks of the Seine - and the elderly man I met who told me all about his life in Paris - and the couple I gave my doodle of the scene before me to (more here)
• Throwing out my backpack and getting a suitcase on wheels!!! (what had I been thinking?!?!)
• The Kandinsky exhibit I went to at the Pompidou Centre
• Discovering the Opera Garnier, quite by accident, and how amazing it was (including the underground waters that gave birth to the Phantom of the Opera story) (more here)
• All my adventures exploring the old Paris Metro stations and the underground subway art... wow, wow, wow
• Wandering the covered passages (more here)
• The violin concert we stumbled on in a little church one day
• The day we got caught in the most tremendous rainstorm and ducked into a big 'ol bookstore... it rained so much that we had to walk around buckets... I left with a wee Picasso book - in French!! I figured it would help me with my language skills(I just came across it the other day)
• Getting lost and separated from Branwen and Maryanne at Pere Lachaise cemetery
• Hanging out with Marjorie
• Connecting with Shawn and Jessica from the states whom I'd met in Barcelona
• The day Branwen saw one car drive up and over another car at the Arc de Triomphe
• My first "stand and pee" toilet!
• The day I - for some confounded reason I still cannot explain - bought a fondue pot
• Discovering the teensy skinny Pilot G-TEC-C4 pens that I still draw with today, and my first doodle with such fine lines!
• And, oh, the fresh baguettes, the cheese, the pastries.... ooh la la!!

Oh, Paris, how you grabbed hold of my heart and didn't let go. I still feel it.

I actually went back to Paris again on my 51st birthday in January - story and pics here.

I'm sure I will return one day. Paris is one livable city.... would love to go back for a few months or even longer one day.... but, heck, I'd be happy with a few days, just to be there... (sigh)

The Perfect Pain au Chocolat in Vancouver

This morning I was transported back to Paris.

In that moment, it felt like I was sitting here. This was often my view last August Paris, after a leisurely breakfast at our fav local cafe. Crumbs, an empty cup and a doodle. And a feeling of joy and excitement and contentment all mixed together.
This was the view across the street that we looked up at every day. Took lots of pics of this church, in different lights. Oh, morning was often 10... that was, if I got up "early".... heh...

Pic of two local pals here who have been, like, me, seeking good pain au chocolat in Vancouver... That's my niece Branwen and my friend Marjorie.

A very special treat in Paris -- though it's so reasonable and so good that you might have it every couple of days -- is fresh fruit tarts. They are to die for!!! While they usually come in a simple plain white box, on my last full day there I went out to get tarts for the 3 of us , and they came in this amazing little parcel! I think there was a piece of cardboard underneat them, then the paper was wrapped in string with a bow.

Here they are, moments before they were devoured, along with some incredible decadent chocolate cream puffy things that we also tried to consume. Wine helped us in this endeavor.

This is evidence of this morning's jaunt back to Paris.... if only in my heart and mind. The tart is safely tucked in the fridge and the baguette won't last long, I'm sure....

I don't think I can describe this morning's experience any better that what I just wrattled off in an email to B and M, so I'll quote myself:

"Bonjour ladies, I found it! Chopain Boulagerie, 1165 Davie, across from Kin's market. i just had a to-die-for fresh pain au chocolat right off the oven cooling racks.... they didn't look at me weird when I ordered Cafe a lait (instead of a latte), and i walked home with two more treasures: a fresh baguette (still warm, though haven't tasted it yet, give me 10 minutes and I'll weaken) and a very French little raspberry tart in it's plain white box. ! yum ! "

I overheard the owner talking to ahother customer. Apparently this is the third location in Vancouver for Chopain, and he came to Canada when he was 18 (maybe in his 50's now?) is the . Visit and you will be in heaven.

I am really learning about the power of a photograph lately, when I see a pic taken on my trip I am truly transported back. Sometimes there is a moment of a heart tug, where I feel a little bit sad, that I'm not there anymore... but it shifts pretty quickly to just enjoying and savouring the memories.

Sometimes when I find myself going into my pics to find a certain pic to illustrate something I'm thinking or feeling when writing here, I find myself transported away, and I can get happily lost there for hours. That's very special to me.

I have thousands -- and I really DO mean thousandS - of pictures from my trip, and I've only just begun to sort them. But it's such pleasure when I putter away at this. It's going to keep me busy for a long time.

I've actually started to identify what I think are the top 10 pictures I've taken on my trip, from a "photography" perspective (not that I know what I'm doing!) and am up to 5. It's fun to ponder such things. It's compelling and it's much of what inspires me these days.

A birthday and a jet plane

I celebrated my 51st birthday in Paris with a trip to the Eiffel Tower. This is me in my sweet new red coat that I got at the "soldes" (sales) for 70% off. The scarf is from my stay in Berlin.
I timed my visit to go up at dusk, so that I could see the sunset, and the city of lights at night! I was rewarded with quite a spectacular sunset, that my camera skills can't really do justice to.

Twice while I was up there, the bright lights began popping. This happens for 10 minutes every hour. It's spectacular from the ground, but really quite amazing when you are standing among them.

It was CCCOOOOLLLLLDDDD up there, so much so that by the time I saw they had gloves and hats in the souvenier shop, I didn't care what they cost or what they looked like. Fortunately, they were pretty reasonable, in both cost and appearance.

I finally warmed up with a glass of champagne in one of the chi chi restaurants up the tower. My birthday splurge including a bowl of pumpkin soup. The soup arrived as an almost empty bowl with some veggies (pumpkin and ?') in the bottom, a huge dollop of thick cream, and a teensy Romain lettuce leaf in it... the soup was then poured around it. Unusual and very tasty. Good thing, as these 2 precious bits cost me 27E!

I began celebrating my birthday the day before with my friend Bill who lives in Boston, but has a flat in Paris, and just happened to be here at the same time as me. He took me out to lunch in a very French wine bar, then for a long walk in the city topped off with tarts and macaroons (my treat) and champagne (his treat - and very good!)

One of the stops on our walk was the Jardin de Palais Royale where Bill's favourite piece of public art has just been restored at a cost of 6 million Euros. I confess the piece of paper that Bill wrote the artists name down for me is packed (more on that in a minute), so I'll leave it at this for now: it's made up of tons of black and white striped columns and is very cool. This is Bill leaning on one of the columns.

This is me, of course, sitting on a column and swinging my legs. Made me feel like a kid (heh, my last day at age 50!), as I'm so tall my feet almost always touch the ground. There was swinging room!

Here are our feet, looking down to the water part of the piece down below the grill...

This is what the whole thing looks like in a wide shot. As I say, very cool.

Now back to the Eiffel Tower for a moment.... this is what it looks like when the bright lights start popping while you are up the tower....

OK, now to the bit about the jet plane... I am flying home to Canada tomorrow. Not a recent decision, but haven't said much about it until now. For the curious, here is how I decided to come home at this time... The below began as a journal entry this morning, then evolved into a story I could share.

Happy reading... and for those of you I know in Vancouver, will see you soon, I am sure....

_________________________________________________

I lie here in bed in Paris, the morning of my last full day here. In Paris. And in Europe. And I am a little surprised to feel sad. Sad, I suppose, because this has been such an awesome experience, but all things must come to an end. Well, sort of. This trip is coming to an end, but not my life ad a traveller.

I made the decision to come home two months ago, then slept on it for a month before altering my plans. But it felt right and it still feels right. Just wasn't expecting the sadness, it snuck up on me. But it's ok. I expect I will feel a range of emotions over the next few days and weeks. And months.

Speaking if months, I have been gone seven. Coincidentally, to the day. At least on this continent. I arrived on July 29 last year, and will list off tomorrow - homeward bound - on January 29.

So, why am I coming home so soon? Each time I have been asked that question, I burst out laughing. Seven months is a looooooonnng time!!! :-) heh.

I only attract this question from people at home who hear I am coming home, as when I left I said I was going for a year.

Why did I say a year? I don't know, but I learned quickly that "I'm taking off for Europe!" would evoke "For how long?". Even if by fluke, or by design, I managed to just talk about the trip and not give a firm response, I would invariably get "How long will you stay?". So I said a year.
I said a year, but truth be told, I really didn't know. My focus was on going. Going, going, going! I am going to Europe! Whoopieee! Heh. So it was an answer that left me a lot of time to figure out what I really wanted to do.

So.... The idea to return when I am came from a period in Rhodes, Greece in November (my 1st trip to the island), when I was unwinding in the sun, not caring if I ever saw another museum (a clear symptom of museum burn-out, also referred to as one being "museum 'd out), and thought back over my trip....

I had had SUCH amazing experiences by that point (only about 1/3 made it onto this blog). I cherished each one.

As I rolled each mmemory over in my head, I had this satisfying sense of richness and satisfaction. My cup was full. My cup runneth over. I was full, and I needed time to digest.
I found myself trying to write a list of my top 10 experiences - not as easy as it sounds, when you have so many. And it struck me as the kind of thing one might do to mark closure. Ah, oh, so.... maybe it's time to head home?

As I said, I didn't rush my return, as that was two months ago. But I realized I was ready. There were other factors as well.

One was the Olympics. The only thing that had dissapointed me about the timing of my trip was it appeared that I would miss them :-(.... unlike those who can't wait to get out of town, I crave to be there, in the buzz of the excitement, enjoying all the free stuff. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I didn't want to miss.

Plus.... I felt like I'd had enough idleness, enough aimlessness, I needed something for my mind to wrap itself around again. Plus.... I want to see my sweet mom, who let me go with such grace, but for whom I know in-person visits would be such a joy (I am giving her my presence as her birthday present next month :-).... Plus, there was one more reason.... let me think.... Oh yeah. I'm broke !!!! Or, better said, I'm B.R.O.K.E. Heh. So earning some money again would be useful. Now there's an understatement! :-)

So.... it's just time to return to the "real world".

I have no doubt that I will travel again. This will be a time to reflect on this trip, and to begin planning the next one.

So there you go. I began to write this as a journal entry (on my iTouch in bed), but then realized it could become the blog entry I wasted to make today. I wanted my "I'm heading home" post to tell the story, so I won't have to tell it over and over again..... If someone asks I can point them to the answer.

Now, time to get up, get some coffee, and plan my lady day in this fair city and this fair country. And continent.

btw, the sadness lasted as long as it took for me to write that. I'm cool, though still a bit surprised that the day has come....

A week in Paris

I am in Paris for the second time this trip. While not as warm as it was in July (I'm just glad it isn't snowing this week), Paris has this ability to warm my heart and make me feel instantly at home. I. Adore. Paris.

Yesterday I went out for a bite to eat late afternoon and found myself amidst the Sunday afternoon brunch crowd at Cafe Charlot. I tried to be sneaky with this pic... Look at the 2 guys at the low table by the door.... yes, that's a puppy looking up at them. Adorable, and so French!
Today I was in the area of Gare St. Lazare train station and was taken by the interesting clock sculpture just outside.

There were men hawking goods on the corner, two selling flowers - and a third one sadly out of my shot, selling avacados.

The clock theme was picked up in the chairs of the cafe where I had a late lunch. Here is the view looking over my crepe fromage to the street beyond...

... then a sight more commonly seen elsewhere, there were strange people wearing strange clown wigs walking down the street. Hardly Paris high fashion, but spotted in Paris nonetheless:

I am in Paris for a week and am staying in Marais (the 3rd) only 3 blocks from the flat where I stayed in August. Again I have a flat, very cute, and very teensy. Perfect for one! It is nice to be in a familiar area... had a beer after shopping today and was recognized by the waiter, which was a nice feeling (for the benefit of my niece, that was the spot where we would watch the motorcycles flying by!).

I am laying low, recovering my energy after my intense but fabulously enriching week at Pueblo Ingles in La Alberca last week. Tomorrow I have lunch with a friend and Wednesday I celebrate my birthday. A birthday in Paris, what a fabulous idea... I am having fun thinking about what I will do that day...

Lost in du Pere-Lachaise cemetary in Paris

You can learn more about du Pere-Lachiaise here.