It was blindingly sunny today in Paris today, a welcome relief after the days of overcast skies that seem to be characteristic of this time of year. Just for fun, I wore shorts today, which, I confess, was probably a mistake, even though shorts and a short-sleeve running shirt were perfect for my lope around the park.
I had decided to visit the Palais Garnier, which is one of the two famous opera houses of Paris, as well as the Madeleine, which is a colossal church. It was a beautiful day, the distance was a good 90 minutes by foot, so I split the difference and took the RER to Chatelet/Les Halles, which brought me over to the right bank, and then walked west. On my way out, I hit one of the surprise Metro-ticket checkpoints; I showed my ticket to the guard, and moved along, but the girl behind me, who had just thanked me for letting her follow me through the barrier (which I hadn't done intentionally) got busted.
I made my way past the Louvre and the Tuileries, and then saw a rather large and old-fashioned-looking domed building in the distance, which I guessed was the Palace Garnier (it was). The dome is one of the most remarkable features of the opera house, wider than it is tall; constructed under Napoleon III, it was designed in order to resemble the Empress Eugenie's crown. I thought that the Palais was only a couple of blocks away, but as I approached, it turned out that I was wrong; I kept on approaching, and the building kept on growing and growing to fill my field of vision: the Palais Garnier is simply huge! It's a solid 69 meters high, making it the equal in stature of the towers of Notre-Dame de Paris, and truly dominates the whole neighborhood. The golden statues on the facade were blazing brilliantly in the sunlight, and I eventually fond my way indoors.
The Palais Garnier is ostentatiously decorated with lots of gold, and golden chandeliers, and well-furnished with marble busts of famous composers and singers. For all of the show, though, there is really very little information; the free pamphlet is one of the thinnest I've ever seen, and the guided tours are available only with reservation and (high) payment. I stopped to listen, for about ten minutes, to one of the guides, who was leading a tour of thirty or forty seniors. He was describing the history of the building of the opera house, and Degaz's (and playboys') visits to the ballerina's dressing rooms; when he stopped to move on, he noted that there was a young man who had begun to follow the group, reminding everyone that the group was already at its maximum size. I scrammed, and the tourguide lost one interested audience member.
In the Opera House, there is one absolutely overwhelming hallway; the grand foyer, which challenges even the Hall of Mirrors of Versailles in its opulence. I thought back to my time attending the ballet at Versailles, and about the reception hall full of suits and dresses: this is hallway, no doubt, where wealthy opera-goers have been promenading during intermissions, since 1875, in order to see and be seen. For all of the opulence of the wall paintings, the ceiling mosaics, and the chandeliers (the largest one of which weighs eight metric tons), the Opera Garnier succeeds at being flashy without being interesting.
I'd like to thank Nick for suggesting that I visit the Madeleine, a colossal church just a quick jaunt away from the Palais Garnier. Built in the likeness of a Roman temple, the Madeleine dominates the entire neighborhood, and, in addition to welcoming tourists, is also a functioning parish: I'd say that I was in the minority when I visited, most of the people there being engaged in prayer, etc (I was as respectful as possible). The construction of the church was rather haphazard, having been inaugurated by Louis XV, but suspended by the National Assembly in 1791. Napoleon wanted to turn it into a temple dedicated to the glory of his army (i.e. himself), and the architect he appointed demolished virtually everything, but saved the Corinthian columns. During the period of Restoration, Louis XVIII succeeded in turning the building back into a church, but the building in the decoration was only finished in 1842. Unfortunately, it seems as if even in the 21st century, the church is still under construction, and tourists were blocked from strolling around the periphery; moreover, there was a concert scheduled that night (Friday), and technicians had roped off half of the church, in order to set up the musicians' equipment. That being said, the domes and the fresco that adorned the apsidal dome was very well done (photos will soon be available on FB).
I strolled back, to my dorm, stopping at the library and at the student cafeteria, and after some readingm went to bed early that night.
~JD
"Il est indéniable que le XVIIIe siècle a vu, au point de vu réglementaire, une amélioration du sort des prisonniers… l’arrêt du 18 juin 1717 accorde aux prisonniers 1.5 livres de pain de bonne qualité par jour et ordonne qu’on leur fournit de la paille gratuitement" [It is undeniable that the 18th century saw, from the point of view of the law, an amelioration of the fate of prisoners, and the decree of June 18th, 1717, granted the prisoners 1.5 pounds of bread of good quality per day, and ordered that they be furnished with straw, at no cost] (Garnot, Benoit, Crime et Justice aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siecles, p. 192).
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