Because I Have No Camera...

So the last few days have been quite nice, low-key but full of learning and camaraderie. Our friend Grayson happened to be staying with us before she heads off to India for a few months. My friend Sasha who is also studying here is a good friend of Grayson's (as well as an amazing photographer). She said I could post some of her pictures, and I think they perfectly capture the simple beauty of the last few days.

Grayson made us a beautiful meal of tomato, mozzarella and basil salad, toasted baguette with goat cheese, honey and raisins and then goat cheese and spinach wrapped with fried eggplant. Amazing.

View of my room from the living room.

The next day started at 11am at my apartment, where I made omelettes for everyone. I've learned how to make the perfect french style omelette and I am very proud of it, I've always found eggs hard to get just right. Sasha and I had our Paris Monuments and Political Power class at 1pm, but Thursdays we visit monuments, and this time it was the Pantheon. The buiding is right around the corner from my house, maybe 5 minutes walk. It's been a church, then secular temple devoted to the great men of France, then a church again, then secular, too many times to count (look up pictures of the building, I'm not going to taint this post with anything other than Sasha's amazing photos). We headed there at about 1pm.

That hand is that of amazing Christina Von Koehler, the smartest professor in all of Paris. And though I can't be sure, she looks as though she has the softest skin in the city as well.

View of our apartment from the courtyard

That night was more of the same, wine and talk and general easy good time. Then Benj, Molly and Grayson headed off to Amsterdam! What fun. And since I know you now want to see more of Sasha's photos of Paris, her blog is 'Hour of Departure' linked there on the right.

Sister, Sister, He's Just a Play-Thing, We Wanna Make Him Stay Up All Night

Above are lyrics from one of my favorite Talking Heads songs, and here's I love it and it is relevant:

First of all, because it is about babies. I love 'em and I want one. And let me tell you, they do babies well here in Paris. Actually, kids in general. They dress them well and if they need glasses when they are four or five, they don't mess around. Little round red frames. Imagine the American Girl Doll Molly's glasses, but in red. So cute!

Secondly, I miss my family so it is a shout out to my sis, Annie.

Thirdly, because I like to stay up late. Which brings me to last Saturday evening, Nuit Blanche in Paris. It translates literally to "white night," but in French that is the term for an all-nighter, for a sleepless night. Don't know why. *PAUSE* Just did some research and I think it might be in reference to 'white nights' in places of high latitude where the sun is out all night. But anyway, the french Nuit Blanche:

It is a huge arts festival meant for community building here in Paris. Museums stay open until 7am, they have exhibitions all around the city and the young and old of Paris take to the streets for the fête, for the soirée, for the festival, for the party. Right in my neighborhood there was a bunch of stuff, I live right around the corner from a fine arts college. Plus in the park by house they had a 25 foot disco ball (what?!) hanging from a crane above the fountain.

After a little pre-party in my courtyard, my friends and I decided to go to a few bars and make our way to another neighborhood that had stuff going on. We did make it to the bar, then to another, then beautiful Erin and I decided to split off and go with her two french friends while the other 3 went another way. Our time at the next place (a club) lasted about 2 minutes, Erin and I split.

What to do? FRENCH ONION SOUP of course. Erin and I sat down and watched the crowds. This would seem like the end, as everyone was wearing out. Our other friends ended up having Metro troubles and ended up going home, as did Erin. But on my way walking home, I figured, why not just keep going?

My first impromptu stop was the beautiful Jardin du Luxembourg with the HUGE disco ball. It was absolutely dazzling and lit up the entire surrounding neighborhood. By the time I got there, about 4am, there was no line to get into the park, but it was still full enough to enjoy the atmosphere and the many people hanging out.

There was also a huge dream carousel, like those things one might put next to a child's bed. I sat in those wonderful moveable chairs in the garden for a while and watched that. But then I went home.

And as I was walking up the stairs, I said to myself WHY NOW? I poured myself some more wine, then went around the corner where I proceeded to watch a woman strategically command 6 record players playing bird calls, changing the timing and record to make the sound into music in the courtyard of the school. She had a rack of clothes on the back of the platform which I thought was a little curious, but for some reason completed her scenic design.

I sat there on the edge of a fountain listening to and watching her for about 45 minutes. Every once in a while she would look at me or another person nearby after making sure a record was playing right at the moment she wanted. Her face said 'that is the right spot, no argument.' She was a stern and focused woman of 50, and had her character for the performance down.

After that 45 minutes she grabbed a dress of the rack, having never acknowledged them until that point. Absolutely thrilling. She reset two more records and left the stage. There was no way I could leave now. Would she come back having changed from her cream colored Chanel-esque suit into the long black silk dress with the large flower on her breast?

I could only wait, which I did. For twenty minutes. I gave her five more minutes to return. After that five, I granted her five more. Then I did it again. After 35 minutes she returned to her work, no differently than before, except for the black dress. I loved it.

I had an amazing Saturday night both with my friends, then roaming alone until 7am. But of course that lead to a very short Sunday for Evan.

The Opera

Tonight was my first opera. I have a wonderful roommate Molly, whose grandfather was in town for a few days and refers to opera as "the highest form of art." He treated us to The Barber of Seville at the Opéra Bastille. It was a totally new experience for me, for many reasons. The pressure of being a part of such an audience is immense. First of all, we were Americans in France seeing an Italian opera that is set in Spain.I understand none of those things, except mainly how to be American. Luckily I read a plot synopsis before I went.

In my opinion opera culture is a different world. I am not going to say it is a lost art, but it most definitely one which has it's niche market. As much as theatre is not an art form for the masses anymore, opera is even more so. I hear about little new opera, everything seems to be classics in repertoire. Not to say that is a bad thing. When that famous overture started tonight I got chills. The amazing recognition I have for these pieces, never even having seen any is amazing. But as I was sitting there watching this piece of art from 1816, I wondered what makes an opera popular and lasting.

I think the opulence of the art form has a great deal to do with its reputation. Even at the point where I gave up trying to read the french subtitles and abandoned the story, I was amazed by the sets and costumes and grandeur (confidence?) of the actors. When Rosina tore apart her guardian's room in a fit of fury, it was too long, felt to calculated and just seemed absolutely ridiculous. But what made me lean forward was this performer's total devotion and non-doubting attitude that it just HAD to be done.

I will say, I think that this production tried to do some different

things, even though we didn't understand it. Though it was set in 1400 moorish Spain, at the end the main character tore off his jacket and had on a modern soccer jersey. He was tossed a ball by a chorus person and fumbled with his opera singer feet to try handle it. Funny and I am guessing referential. If only us Americans new anything about all of Spanish history, especially current 'football' news.

I have class early tomorrow, but there is more about the night that I must get to! Goodnight!