Le Grand Palais et "Le Grand" Courbet

Friday, October 26. I wake up at the crack of dawn without having set my alarm clock, probably because I'm anticipating Lyn's arrival. Shower. Change sheets on the bed. Make coffee. At about 8 a.m., the First Way driver calls to say that he has Lyn in the car and he expects to be at my apt in about one hour. He then asks for directions! Oh, la. So I'm able to tell him it's in the 4th, near Hotel de Ville and at the corner of r. du Renard. All in French! Lyn arrives at about 9:00. So good to see her. We stagger up the 63 steps with her luggage! We have the traditional French petit-dejeuner of cafe au lait, croissants, confiture et du beurre.

Lyn is ready to boogie so we hop on the metro to Champs-Elysees/Clemenceau and walk to the Grand Palais to see the Courbet exposition. Unfortunately, we have to wait in line for an hour before getting inside. Fortunately, it's not raining, and we have lots of time to start catching up.


Le Grand Palais. This fabulous building has undergone an extensive cleaning and renovation, and it is magnificent. I saw some postcards at the Hotel de Sully bookstore of "les travaux" and it was amazing. Would like to find out if it's ever possible to visit the main hall.


Gustave Courbet (1819-1877). Ok, so here's a guy with no self-esteem problems whatsoever! The entire first room is filled with his "auto-portraits" and, for better or for worse, they set the tone for the rest of the exhibit. This guy had one heck of an ego, although I guess that's what it takes to be a rebel. His work broke with the contemporary academic style of painting (Romanticism and Neoclassicism) and, along with the work of Honore Daumier and Millet, became known as Realism. He believed that painters should portray the life around them, as the Dutch masters had done, and he was criticized for portraying the harshness in life and the irregularities of nature.

Some of his works are monumental, such as Burial at Ornans (where the gaping grave is front and center) and L'Atelier du Peintre (where the artist himself, along with a nude model, is front and center!). My favorites are, however, the more modest subjects such as La Fileuse Endormie or The Sleeping Spinner (Lyn's comment: "Hmm, asleep at the wheel!") and Les Demoiselles des bords de la Seine. Towards the end of his career, Courbet scandalized the art world with L'Origine du Monde (1866) which was shocking for its time. In showing how this painting anticipated things to come, the exposition very effectively displays next to it a drawing from the 20th century.

As radical in politics as he was in painting, Courbet was placed in charge of all art museums under the revolutionary 1871 Commune of Paris and saved the city's collections from looting mobs. Go, Courbet! Following the fall of the Commune, however, he was accused of allowing the destruction of Napoleon's triumphal column in the Place Vendôme, was imprisoned for six months and condemned to pay for its reconstruction (323,000 francs payable over 10 years). He fled to Switzerland where he continued to paint until his death at age 58 (of liver disease aggravated by heavy drinking), on December 31, 1877, one day before the payment of the first installment was due. Courbet's revenge!

By now, we are totally done in and hungry. We walk down the Champs-Elysees to find some lunch and fall into a huge transport exhibit all along the avenue. Among many other things is a display of little electric cars that anticipate a future where you could hop into one of these things, tell it that you want to go to Place de la Bastille (par example) and it will automatically take you there. No driving, no being distracted by cell phones or children and no accidents because the car can sense when something is in its path and stop! OK, I'm all for this. Another great urban transport system. Kind of like Velib but with little cars (AutoLib?) Unfortunately, it's a number of years away from being a reality.

We cross the Place de la Concorde and continue down r. de Rivoli to Angelina's where we share a Croque Monsieur, Salade Potager et Tarte au Citron. Pop into bookstore next door. We look in the windows of the little shop that sells lead soldiers and then into the garden of the Palais Royale. On the other side, we head east, cross the Place des Victoires and continue down R. Croix des Petits Champs to r. Coquillere to Dehilleron, the kitchen store. I have to pee so ask to use "les toilettes." I'm directed to a door and a bathroom that is clearly meant for employee use only mais c'est urgent! So for the first time in a very, very long time, I use an "arabian" toilet. There's just nothing quite like it!

We visit St Eustache which this time is without the art exposition that was here when I visited before. Continue walking through Les Halles, commenting on unsuccessful urban renewal projects and speculating as to what the city might do to salvage this space.

Back to the apt to rest our weary feet. We read some of Sarah's book and laugh our asses off. This would be my goddaughter, Sarah Walker (NB: also Lyn's daughter!), who has written a book called "Really You've Done Enough", a self-help book for parents whose grown children still need their money but not their advice!)

Dinner tonight right around the corner at Le Brise-Miche, overlooking the Niki de Saint Phalle fountain on the Place Igor Stravinsky. Lyn has moules frites which are great. My poulet roti is good but not great. We have a very sweet young man as our waiter. The restaurant is not at all full. We share profiteroles for dessert. Puff pastry, vanilla ice cream and a gallon of chocolate sauce. Fantastique!

Our post-prandial stroll consists of a walk to the Atelier Brancusi to see when it's open and a stop in the bookstore at the Centre Pompidou. Home to bed.