I can hear the bells*

Each church we entered, I anointed myself and lit a candle.

It was in deference to many things—out of habit of the ritual, out of respect to my mother and her beliefs, and out of deference for entering a place in order to interact with it contrary to its purpose, as a spectator and secular observer.

Nonetheless, the ritual was familiar and I even managed a ‘hail mary’—it seemed the least I could do.

As with so many other places in Paris, when you find yourself up against one of the most significant spectacles in the western world and one of the greatest cathedrals in Europe, you try to find something to ground you—for me I feel grounded when I can spot the flaws and absurdities. Just like Dorothy, I follow my dog and look for the man behind the curtain. Not that I think there is anyone particular individual responsible for the madness that flocks around Notre Dame, though undoubtedly there is someone benefitting from the gains of the gift shop.

No matter how strange it felt to shuffle past those seated for prayer in Notre Dame, it didn’t feel like nearly as great of an intrusion as it did as the some of the smaller churches we visited. There was no longer the din of the crowd to cover the sound of our footsteps and the clack of our shutters; though we may have not been the only visitors, our presence was undeniable. I thought a bit about the church I attended when I was growing up, modest with its wood pews and abstracted stain glass, architecture diluted and muted for the practicality of a working class town. Though the churches were free and open to the public, it seemed contrary to enter a space as if it were a platform for investigation while it was still being used as a place of worship and prayer. But yet, I went in and marveled at the architecture and construction, in deference to the engineering achievements and visions of man.

 

Perhaps the guilt is ritual as well.









*cause life isn't complete without musical references

Ironic Tourist Activity and the iPhone Selfie as Self-Perservation

What started as a personal joke, quickly turned in to a trend amongst my fellow trip-goers, and even Chris started participating.  Observing the strange activities of tourism over the course of the first few days, I noted an activity I had never previously experienced in tourist culture: the selfie.  Arms extended out, iPhones or cameras in air, maneuvering the object to make sure a flattering angel is achieved.  I watched as groups of people thrusted their cameras in front of them, confronting a lens head on, placing themselves in the the same frame as a famous monument or work of art.  

It was hilarious.

And then I tried it.  My first selfie was at Notre Dame on the first official day of activities in Paris.  The irony was not lost on me.  I knew that I looked just as ridiculous as others taking part in the same activity, and several dozen selfies later, others picked up on the activity, and I wasn’t even laughing anymore.  I wanted align my image with these places.  I watched as others began to shamelessly take part in the same activity, and the absurdity developed.  It begs the question: is it more ridiculous to pose in front of an object or space that you wish to be depicted within, or to take matters in to your own hands?  At the Louvre, we collectively sighed at the sight of a tourist posing for a picture in front of images of death and violence, smiles stretched across their faces.  Their naivety only made me want to emulate such a ludicrous act, understanding all of the implications.  

In terms of contemporary culture, the selfie has made a lasting impact, so much so that the gesture has its own Wikipedia page (I do recommend viewing this.)  Digital photography has enabled the trial and error of this mode of self portraiture by allowing image makers to review their work and try again, and again.  

We all want to remember all of the wonderful places our bodies have inhabited.  Memory and legacy are topics of a majority of artworks (see: Portraiture, Representation), and function integrally as desires of humanity.  Images allow us to reflect on these important moments, and better yet, depictions of our own bodies in these spaces remind us of our temporary presences in that time or place. Growing up, both my father and mother were rarely photographed, living in rural 1960’s and 70’s culture.  I remember digging though drawers of my grandparents house, searching for shreds of their past, to inform my own disposition.  I always wonder if they feel as though they’ve lost some part of themselves, unable to reflect on their physical presence in the places and times which meant a lot to them.  Our culture is obsessed with images of self, because we’re trying to hard to hold on to the past, for benefit of the present.  

This is not simply vanity, the selfie gives us control of our own personal memories, and archives moments which were hardly possible to preserve even 10 years ago.  I am beginning to imagine my old children, digging deeply in to the internet, looking for a tiny bit of self in the images of my experiences.  While the selfies I am taking are still laughable at this moment, I truly think of them as valuable records of this incredible first experience outside of my American comfort zone.                  

I haven’t even taken a selfie at the Eiffel Tower yet. 

Day 4 - CHURCH AND RADICAL ENLIGHTENMENT: Re-birth of Philosophy

   While we were walking to Ste. Chapelle I saw a sign that looks just like Oakland Gyros. Same color and text in both signs are the same. I laughed and just though that Milwaukee gyros must be just that good.

   So then as we walked down the street I saw building after building that jetted out to form a covering over the shops on the bottom floor. The buildings look very skewed and messed up. If I saw a drawing of the buildings like this I would think that the drawing wasn't drawn to scale.  

   At the end of the day, we finished off with the Pantheon. The beauty is just unbelievable. The details of the whole building are breath taking. But when you go down stairs the roman arches are just beautiful. The curves of the arches let sound carry up and over across the room. I would love to just watch a movie down there.

Gothic Architecture: a brief summary

Architecture never struck me as particularly interesting until I came to France.  All of the buildings are old and beautiful, even someone like me has to appreciate them.  The architecture that stuck me the most was the Gothic churches we looked at.  This was surprising because the images I’ve seen before coming were never able to hold my attention.  The have a totally different experience in person.  The scale and detail are impressive.  Both the interiors and exteriors were great to draw because there was interest from far away and in detail.

We looked at three different Gothic churches from three different time periods: Notre Dame, Church of Saint-Julien-Le Pauvre, and the Church of Saint-Séverin.  These had three very different scales and different places in the Gothic architecture timeline. Church of Saint-Julien-Le Pauvre was the smallest and the oldest.  It was a local, modest church. Notre Dame was the largest and took place in between Saint-Julien-Le Pauvre and Saint-Séverin.  It was massive, and beautiful.  People still attended mass there, but with all of the tourists that come in, it might be overwhelming.  The last, Saint-Séverin, was built post-Notre Dame and was moderate in size.  It wasn’t as intimate as Saint-Julien-Le Pauvre, but didn’t attract the tourism and craziness that Notre Dame did.

While I can’t choose a favorite building of the three, I can choose a favorite feature that they all shared: the stained glass windows.  Not only did they let in light from outside, so they were practical, but they were unique pieces of art.  They have unique history (some were replaced to look old, some were replaced to look modern) and really set the churches apart.

Natalie_Latin Neighborhood

Latin Neighborhood

Natalie 

We ventured to the latin neighborhood for Day 4 which was to see the oldest area of Paris. It is called the Latin neighborhood because it was once where all the scholars lived and learned. At the time of the medieval period this learned people spoke latin. We were able to see the exposed beams from the medieval building period which still hold up many buildings in that area today. We traveled from the Latin Quarter through two chapels which still showcased a majority of their original medieval bones. To end our day we passed the Paris University, followed by their Library which just from the outside was gorgeous, and then moved onwards to the Pantheon.

Some points on the modernization of the medieval Paris and its buildings by Haussmann between 1853 and 1870.

• ground floor and basement with thick, load-bearing walls, fronts usually parallel to the street
• mezzanine with low ceilings
• second floor with a balcony;
• third and fourth floors in the same style but with less elaborate stonework around the windows
• fifth floor with a single, continuous, undecorated balcony
• mansard roof with garret rooms and dormer windows.

 

The brown beams on the cream house in the center of the photo are the beams that were original to the medieval structure. 

Inside the chapel Saint Séverin

After all our exploring we went to Café de Flora

Café Créme

 

The Latin Quarter

On the 4^th day, we went to a number of different places within the Latin Quarter. I enjoyed this day in particular, because I was able to digest the city in a different manner than we had been in the last couple of days. I was completely overwhelmed by the Louvre and really exhausted from getting to know the metro, getting accustomed to walking around so much, and this city in general. But, the Latin Quarter was really nice because it felt a lot more eclectic than any other part of Paris that I’ve seen so far. There were two things in particular that I really enjoyed on Day 4. Saint Severin Church, and The Pantheon.

            I normally am not extremely attracted to churches-I think that they are beautiful, particularly in Paris, but I can only stay in them for so long. At Saint Severin, I found that to be a completely different case. This church was filled with beautiful architecture-amazing, amazing architecture filled with the most beautiful stained glass, fan vaults, and gothic arches. I was attracted to one room in particular though, that felt and looked a lot different than the rest of the church. Set aside on the left part of the building, was a small chapel called, “The Chappelle du Saint-Sacrament.”

The light throughout the church as a whole was particularly dark-very moody, beautiful, quiet light moving through the stained glass. But, the light within this room was warm, bright, and radiating a different kind of energy. It might have been the time of day that we were there that caused this room to be so beautiful to me, but once I entered into the space there was a muffling, a quietness to it that wasn’t found in the rest of the church that echoed every sound you made. What really allowed me to connect to this room was the fact that there were Gardenias next to the altar-that scent in particular reminds me of family and nostalgia-so I felt connected almost immediately. I spent awhile sitting within the space and enjoying the chance to reflect/be quiet for a minute. The light, smell, and space were extremely conducive to look back on the last couple of days and decompress.

The second thing in particular that was of interest to me was The Pantheon. It was absolutely beautiful. I have no words for what it feels like to approach the building and stand under the massive columns, to see the intricate detailing hundreds of feet up from you on the ceiling, and the beautiful sculptures that live within this space. But the part that I enjoyed the most was the crypt downstairs. We almost left without seeing it, and I’m really happy we didn’t. The idea of keeping your country’s most beloved, highly regarded, and well-known members of society within the basement of this building, open to the public to come and visit you after your death, is beyond me.

Some of these people that were within this underground, yet aboveground burial have been there for hundreds of years. How do you acquire these bodies? Why do you keep them? How does one get nominated to be permanently “buried” there? I found the whole concept absolutely intriguing but extremely challenging, coming from a culture where the norm is to bury your loved ones underground, or cremate them. Seeing how people still come today to bring flowers, objects and different artifacts to people they admire or care about is absolutely beautiful. I think that its interesting to give the public a space to come and meditate, re-live history, and allow yourself to be connected/re-connect with a part of your culture.

I think the overall theme for Day 4 was mediation-I was still extremely overwhelmed visually/mentally/physically and finding these little spots of surprise mediation was really beautiful and necessary.