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Posts tagged ‘Paris’

Nov 25

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No. 59: 29 avenue Rapp, Paris

29 avenue Rapp is one of my favorite buildings in Paris. How lucky I am to live right around the corner from it and pass it nearly every day when I’m out and about. It’s one of those building though, no matter how many times you see it, that still catches your eye and makes you wonder….

And wonder I have until today when, after years of wondering, I decided to find out the 411 on this whimsical piece of eye-candy.

It turns out to be the masterpiece of Jules Aimé Lavirotte, a famous French architect who, working in the early 1900s, designed nine (still standing) buildings in Paris, most of them in the 7ème arrondissement. Obviously he was a master of art nouveau. All of his buildings feature natural but stylized forms, arcs, oval and parabolas, wood, metal, glass, ceramics—mythical and ordinary creatures, realistic but abstract and unexpected.

29 avenue Rapp has all of the above and more. Lavirotte designed this madly decorated facade in 1901 along with his pal Alexandre Bigot, a ceramist. Together, and with the aid of Jean-Baptist Larrivé, a sculptor, this outrageously extravagant building came to life.

And one hundred and twelve years later, it is still teeming with life. The lavish entrance watches the avenue with two huge bug eyes, while a bust of a maiden with an animal pelt wrapped around her neck looks on. The green ceramic, oval windows, and balconies pulse. The shiny bronze lizards scamper and the wooden door sighs. This building has a rhythm—it’s hard to define—you must see it to feel it.

So the next time you are on your way to the Eiffel Tower, take a 10-minute detour and experience 29 avenue Rapp.

Nov 23

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No. 56: Applause

I love going to the theatre or a concert in France because the French are so splendid at showing their appreciation for artists and performances.

I remember the first performance I attended in Paris 4 years ago at the Opera Garnier. Granted it was the Paris Opera Ballet performing a tribute to Jerome Robbins (Westside Story, King and I, Pajama Game, Fiddler on the Roof…), and destined to be incredible; still I was amazed when the final piece ended and the dancers came out to take their bows. The audience roared with praise in the form of applause. Not just your regular run-of-the-mill applause, but loud and exceptionally long-lasting applause. As the performers came out for one bow after another, the clapping changed from spontaneous random clapping, to the entire audience clapping rhythmically in sync, not letting up until the dancers gave in and performed another short piece.

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Since then, this has been my experience at every piece of theatre I have attended in France, from top-notch professionals to student concerts, from Paris to small villages, from huge audiences to audiences of less than 25. It is not uncommon to clap through 4-5 curtain calls. I’ve clapped for over 15 minutes!

I thought of this very French way of showing appreciation last night when Superman and I went to hear Handel’s Messiah performed by the Paris Choral Society at the American Cathedral. It was a wonderful and very applause worthy performance. After nearly 3 hours, I was ready to give the choir and especially the soloists a good long round of applause.

But something weird happened…that is, it didn’t happen, not in the way I have grown used to. The audience just clapped normally and that was that.

And then it dawned on me, the Paris Choral Society is more than fifty-percent Anglo, and the audience was more Anglo than French. And, us Anglos, well we just don’t know how to do it the way the French do. And that made me a little bit sad.

As a mother of two beautiful girls trying to make it in the musical theatre world, I know how much blood, sweat and tears goes into each and every performance, and I appreciate when an audience appreciates that.

French audiences seem to get it. They recognize and value artists…and that is one more thing that I love about France.

Nov 17

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No. 50: The Sparkling Tower

Christmas_Eiffel_tower_sparkling_2009.jpbThose of you who know me well, know that j’adore la Tour Eiffel. No matter how many times I see it, it still sets my heart a flutter. I love it morning, noon, or night.

But what I really love about MY tower, as we call it chez nous, is when it sparkles every hour on the hour from sundown to midnight. Not only is it plain lovely to see, but it always makes me smile to hear the crowds who are seeing it light up for the very first time.

The communal “Ooooooh!” and gasps of surprise and awe make my evening trot around the Champ de Mars with Taz so happy, and reminds me that I am the luckiest girl in the world to live in the City of Light and Sparkles!

Vocabulaire

Champ de Mars: the expansive green area at the foot of the Eiffel Tower extending to École Militaire (literally the field of Mars)

chez nous: at our house

J’adore la Tour Eiffel.: I adore/love the Eiffel Tower

Nov 14

3 Comments

No. 49: Crisp Fall Days

I promise this will be my last post about fall…at least this fall. But I just can’t resist the colors of these crisp fall days in France. This desert-dry-climate-Colorado girl has never met a deciduous tree she doesn’t love.

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Even the cars have changed colors this autumn!

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Nov 13

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No. 48: Licking the Windows

An ideal way to spend these mild but crisp fall days is to lick the windows around town. Yep. That’s what the French call window-shopping: licking the windows (en français: faire du lèche vitrine). It’s absolutely the perfect phrase as the shop windows in France are so beautifully delicious, you almost want to eat them up, or at least take home a little taste.

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Nov 12

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No. 47: le Sandwich

IMG_2069I’m not a big fan of sandwiches in America unless it’s the day after Thanksgiving: juicy turkey, mayo and freshly ground pepper, or Boxing Day when the Christmas honey ham is cold and the Dijon mustard is flowing. Mais en France, it’s easy to become addicted to le sandwich, the Frenchie’s fast-food. Bien sûr, it has a heck of a lot to do with the warm, crusty baguettes, but for me, it also has a lot to do with the ingredients and the lack of traditional condiments.

I’ve heard that France’s national sandwich is the jambon-beurre (ham and butter), but frankly, you can do a lot better than that at any decent boulangerie in France. En fait on the way home from school today I had a Brie de Meaux et figues sandwich (Brie from Maeaux, fig jam, softened figs and walnuts—all on a just from the oven baguette.) C’était délicieux!

Here are some of my other favorites:

Chèvre & Miel: soft cheese, goat’s cheese rounds, baby spinach, honey and walnuts.

Parmesan & Poulet: roasted chicken, tomatoes, arugula, thyme, rosemary, and shaved parmesan.

Bleu & Pommes: blue cheese, fresh apple slices, arugula, raisins, blue cheese sauce.

Roblochon & Porc: Roblochon cheese, smoked pork tenderloin, , salted butter and hazelnuts.

3 Fromages: Brie, emmental, fromage frais (creamy cheese), mustard and honey.

Pont l’Évêque & Jambon: carmelized onions, pont d’évêque (a creamy soft cheese from in Normandy), country ham.

Brie de Meaux & Truffes; Brie, greens, mascarpone truffé, truffle balsamic vinegar.

…and of course, le Croque Monsieur…but that French standard deserves its own post!

Vocabulaire

bien sûr: of course

boulangerie: bakery

C’était délicieux! It was delicious!

en fait: in fact

jambon-beurre: ham and butter

Mais en France…: But in France…

Click here to find my favorite carry-out sandwich shop in Paris.

Nov 10

2 Comments

No. 44-45: Fermé le dimanche & dimanche midi

I love the fact that most shops and many restaurants are closed on Sundays in France. Having lived in the land of 24/7 most of my life, I really appreciate being forced to take a break from consumerism one day a week. However, as a temporary Parisienne, I apparently am out of sync with my fellow citizens.

Sunday has been a day of rest in France since the early 1900s, but according to a recent poll, two-thirds of the population is in favor of stores opening on Sundays (providing it is voluntary for employees to work). Still some see this open-Sundays-movement, like the proposed changes to French vacation and working hours, as an attack on the heart and soul of France, and the essence of what makes France, France.

While the government and the legal system have made it clear that they are not ready to budge or cave into the demands of an always-open world, several French businesses are openly bucking the system, most notable the home improvement chain, Bricorama. They are currently appealing the €100,000 per day fine that has been imposed, and many French families have become vocal advocates of this proposed change which they insist helps working parents, giving them more time to run errands on the weekends.

I am entirely in the other camp. As I’ve said, I’ve been there and I’ve done that. I love that our Sundays in Paris are not just a day of rest, but they are also a day to explore the city or to do something with friends…

…which leads me to another thing I love about France: dimanche midi, or Sunday lunch en famille.

Many French families still gather at their mother’s or grandmother’s house on Sunday afternoons for an old-style, four or five-course meal together. In the past, la maman ou la mamie might have done all the cooking, but these days the guests contribute their own culinary specialties. Which is not to say that they are all homemade, au contraire. Take a ride on the metro late Sunday morning, and you’ll be surprised by the number of travelers carting swanky to-go boxes filled with delicate desserts tied up with silky ribbons. Bottles of wine and bags swollen with cheese, charcuterie, pickled garlic and olives, warm, delicious smelling tartes, roasted chicken, and or course, fresh crusty baguettes, accompany the “déjeuner-ers”.

Our family has quite happily and easily adopted this French tradition, in great part because so much is closed on Sundays in France, and we aren’t distracted by commercial demands or tempted to go out and buy things. Instead, we actually have the time to sit down for a meal together and find out what is happening in each other’s lives.

Sunday lunch is a highlight of my week. My fingers are crossed that the French will choose déjeuner over faire du shopping, and realize the value of fermé le dimanche.

Vocabulaire

déjeuner-ers: déjeuner – to (eat) lunch;  déjeuner-ers—franglish for people who lunch

dimanche midi: Sunday lunch

en famille: with family

faire du shopping: to go shopping

fermé le dimanche: closed on Sunday

la maman: mom

la mamie: granny

 

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