Posts Tagged ‘Paris’

Paris, Pigeon, Poutres apparentes

Thursday, June 8th, 2017

The best of all places to begin a Paris sojourn: on a bench in the Jardin du Luxembourg. (But maybe without suitcases.)

Citroën…Then and Now

Wednesday, July 17th, 2013

Fr13-7.17Citroen

We’ll always have Paris

Monday, May 7th, 2012

My husband, a fellow artist, has recently launched a blog to show a selection of his art—photographs, drawings, paintings, and sculpture—and he is now permitting me to share the news. I encourage you to check out his beautiful and varied work. This is an image from today’s post.

ParisDiamonds

CakeBalloons2Karla

A Glimpse of Tolerance

Friday, April 13th, 2012

ParisMassChair

Today is the anniversary of  the enactment of the Edict of Nantes, a modest 16th-century attempt at freedom of worship. For a sketch and a mini-history, please see One Small Step for l’Homme.

Advent 2: Day in Autumn

Sunday, December 4th, 2011

The second Sunday of Advent falls on the birthday of Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926), and in celebration I post this seasonal poem in the original German, along with one of its numerous translations, and a painting. If you have a translation you prefer then please tell me about it.

For another Rilke poem, and a sketch, please see Holding up all this falling.

Acorn

Herbsttag

Herr: es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war sehr groß.
Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren,
und auf den Fluren laß die Winde los.
Befiel den letzten Früchten voll zu sein;
gib ihnen noch zwei südlichere Tage,
dränge sie zur Vollendung hin und jage
die letzte Süße in den schweren Wein.
Wer jetzt kein Haus hat, baut sich keines mehr.
Wer jetzt allein ist, wird Es lange bleiben,
wird wachen, lesen, lange Briefe schreiben
und wird in den Alleen hin und her
unruhig wandern, wenn die Blätter treiben.

—Rainer Maria Rilke (1902)

Day in Autumn

Lord: it is time. Great was the Summer’s feast.
Now lay upon the sun-dials your shadow
And on the meadows have the wind released.
Command the last of fruits to round their shapes;
Grant two more days of south for vines to carry,
To their perfection thrust them on, and harry
The final sweetness into the heavy grapes.
Who has not built his house will not start now
Who now is by himself will long be so,
Be wakeful, read, write lengthy letters, go
In vague disquiet pacing up and down
Denuded lanes, with leaves adrift below.

—Trans. Walter Arndt (1989)

Bastille Day

Thursday, July 14th, 2011

Radishes

In honor of the day I post this painting, featuring, among other things, our ratty yet beloved old Paris guide to arrondissements. This morning we hung from the porch our homemade French flag and put Edith Piaf on the CD player. For dinner I will make a soufflé (not exactly a dish suited to July, but definitely a family favorite) and we’ll watch “Casablanca” and sing along during the Marseillaise scene. Vive la France!

This image is available as a high-resolution print on 8.5″ x 11″ archival paper.

À la recherche du temps perdu

Sunday, July 10th, 2011

TableOverParis

Today is the birthday of Marcel Proust (1871-1922), and so I post this sketch, in remembrance of things past (his and mine).

This image is available as a high-resolution print on 8.5″ x 11″ archival paper.


Cats

Sunday, February 13th, 2011

Minou

This rather fierce-looking cat is Minou, the spoiled darling of the concierge, painted in our long-ago Paris days. Minou is undoubtedly long gone, but she pretty much ruled the roost while she was around. I post her portrait here, along with this poem, in honor of Eleanor Farjeon (1881-1965), whose birthday it is today. For a brief bio of the delightful Farjeon, another of her poems, and a painting, please see Morning Has Broken.

Cats sleep
Anywhere,
Any table,
Any chair,
Top of piano,
Window-ledge,
In the middle,
On the edge,
Open drawer,
Empty shoe,
Anybody’s
Lap will do,
Fitted in a
Cardboard box,
In the cupboard
With your frocks –
Anywhere!
They don’t care!
Cats sleep
Anywhere.

—Eleanor Farjeon

CakeDaisiesSara

Man of Steel (and Iron)

Wednesday, December 15th, 2010

TourEiffelRueJuge

Ah, Paris… The history! the art! the cafés! the romance of an evening stroll beside the Seine with the lights of the Tour Eiffel twinkling downstream! Unless, of course, you are among the artists, poets, and other French citizens of 1887 who were horrified to contemplete the erection of what one writer called “an odious column of bolted metal” that “even commercial America would not want on its soil,” and who together signed a paper protesting its construction.

Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (1832-1923) was born in Dijon, France, and after obtaining his baccalaureate came to Paris for further education. After the disappointment of rejection by the Polytechnique (take heart, aspiring applicants!) he obtained a diploma in chemistry from the École Centrale de Paris and launched a career in metallurgy, a fortuitous choice at this exciting phase of the Industrial Revolution.

Eiffel was hired first to manage, then also to design, the construction of bridges. Within ten years he became an independent consultant and started his own company for the creation and construction of new large-scale iron and steel engineering projects. Because he was gifted as an engineer and construction manager, and the economy was booming, Eiffel was soon successful, rich, and in demand. He designed not only bridges but train stations, churches, lighthouses, palaces, and the armature for Bartholdi’s new Statue of Liberty. When a competition was held to design an iron tower for the Exposition Universelle de 1889, the 100th anniversary of the French Revolution, Eiffel’s design was chosen from the 107 entries. Despite the aforementioned protests, Modernists and Republicans (as opposed to Monarchists) viewed the project with enthusiasm.

Construction began in January 1887, and the increasing fascination of the steadily growing tower foreshadowed its future popularity. It was completed in twenty-six months without a single fatality, and as the newly tallest structure in the world immediately drew crowds of visitors. (Amazingly, the weight of the tower per square inch is no greater than that of a man sitting in a chair.)

Eiffel went on to design other projects, including an ill-fated Panama Canal venture in 1887 that, through no fault of his, collapsed due to financial mismanagement. Discouraged, he turned from construction to experimental research (another of his passions). Eiffel had planned in advance multiple functions for the new tower, and he began a series of aerodynamic, meteorological and radiotelegraphic experiments to be undertaken from its height. In 1898 an antenna was mounted for radio transmission.

Originally planned for removal after twenty years, by 1907 the tower had become far too useful and admired. A new generation of artists now celebrated the Eiffel Tower in paint and literature. Who can envision Paris without it? Of all Eiffel’s work, this tower that bears his name is probably the most beloved. Happy Birthday, Gustave Eiffel! What a gift you have given to painters, photographers, filmmakers and lovers.

This sketch is from our old neighborhood in Paris.

Dans la rue

Thursday, November 4th, 2010

RueCardinale

Today is the birthday of Andre Malraux (1901-1976), writer, art historian, explorer of Indochina, anti-Franco fighter in the Spanish Civil War, member of the French Resistance, and France’s first Minister of Cultural Affairs, and it is in his honor that I post this sketch from his home town.

Youth is a religion from which one always ends up being converted.—Andre Malraux