Old news now, but watching Cadel Evans ride up the Champs-Elysees at the conclusion of the 2011 Tour de France led to a wave of fond nostalgia for the grand old city. Following pics are from a visit for a week in September last year.

Every day and night for the last 125 years at least someone has prayed in this place. Outside, the masses are photographing the view, buying souvenirs and watching buskers making music or pretending to be bronze statues of pirates. Inside the temple, however, money changers are not allowed, and the camera police loudly enforce the rules. They also ensure that people who would like quiet time to ponder are accommodated in peace. A lingering, thoughtful, tranquil experience, till again passing through the milling throng doing the rounds of the side chapels.

On the way down the hill from Sacre Coeur to the nearest metro station, walked Rue Poulet, a street absolutely full of hair shops. Mainly selling wigs for women and skeins of stick on hair. Also shops that do those hairdos with dozens of long fine plaits – afro sort of thing – notice that in the crowded street there are only a couple of white people. Everyone else is a very dark shade of black. In my increasingly hairless state, might have been a bit confronted, the hairiness rather than the colour of course. Did feel a tad conspicuous, but it was an interesting street. Outside a plaiting shop a couple of cute little girls were doing a sort of clapping song/game. Big black momma inside the shop was anxiously watching me smiling. Sternly came out and shooshed them inside, was having none of my smooth grandpa talk, Ah well, the sad gulf of culture difference.

In the name of pottery some people do strange things

Then down to Sevres about a half hour out of town on the metro. This was where they established a shed to produce the massively in-your-face ceramics for the royal court. Funnily enough, the national ceramics museum is a grand building now located in front of what was the kiln shed. A special exhibition is currently running. The best in the world were invited to get involved and show what they could do. It is indeed very impressive. Three Australians involved, Greg Daly, Gail Nichols and Janet Mansfield.

There were a couple of confronting installations, one with about 20 large terra cotta pots of various shapes strangled with leather belts. The other made up of thousands and thousands of pieces of smashed white porcelain tableware, neatly stacked in piles. The 3 impacts, what lovely porcelain it was, what a disaster, but how neatly stacked. Apart from the avant garde stuff there were rooms and rooms of technically and artistically impeccable work.

in the grounds of Versailles

Above all, Versailles was intended as a showpiece. It remains a showpiece, the current management are at pains to point out that the monarch of the day was always an up to the minute patron of the arts, presenting the best possible current development of art, sculpture, music and architecture in the world.  So with this in mind, this year, they invited Takashi Murakami to stage an exhibition in the most prominent places in the grandest rooms of the palace.

Showing virtuosity and familiarity with precious materials he has created new imagery, drawing on traditional Japanese sources as well as Manga cartoons. He says “I am the Cheshire cat who greets Alice in Wonderland and chatters on as she wanders around the Chateau. With my playful smile, I invite you all to the wonderland of Versailles.” The sculptures are bright, gaudy, plastic, and so at odds with the traditional older works, however ornate, pompous, grand and glittering they may be. Murakami does make interesting comment. His piece “the simple things” in the Peers salon shows a giant mouth hungrily consuming glitteringly spangled everyday things like Pepsi, Ketchup, popsicles and the like. Outside, in pride of place, on the Water Parterre at the top of the stairs leading down to the Grand Canal stands an absolutely enormous garish glittering golden “Oval Buddha”.

The 2006 film Marie Antoinette starring Kirsten Dunst described the situation at Versailles fairly well. The court at Versailles, overblown with in-your-face excess on all fronts, left Louis XIV in need of somewhere to entertain a few friends with light refreshments, so in 1700 he had The Grand Trianon built.

afternoon tea setting Grand Trianon style

Louis XV gave Grand Trianon to his mistress of the time, Madame Pompadour. He also  built Petit Trianon for her, a sort of retreat/love nest/house with an adjoining hobby farm. Alas Mme. P. died before completion, but the next mistress Madame Du Barry undoubtedly enjoyed both Petit Trianon, the nearby French Pavillion and the Belvedere, a sort of up-market gazebo for gentle afternoon music from the minstrels.

the Belvedere

Meanwhile the Dauphin who was to become Louis XVI married the 15 year old Austrian, Marie Antoinette, who was given as a coronation present Petit Trianon, the French Pavillion, the Belvedere and the model Farm including cutesy animals, dairy and mill as playthings, semi rural bliss. This then was the 19 year old Marie Antoinette’s domain. Personally, I think that Marie Antoinette was not so bad. Think of all the touchy feely stuff in the love nest, the farm and the modest little mansionette. Probably just had the misfortune to have a careless press secretary. Later, back at Henri IV, hostess Chantal, who is a keen historian, broadly agrees with my theories about Marie Antoinette, however she insists “But no sex – remember that she was a devout Austrian”.

Had to peek in at Galleries Lafayette to see what I would buy if I had money. Settled for a black polo neck like Norman Foster wears and a glass of juice hand squeezed from three choice ruby grapefruits by the most charming young squeezer imaginable.

The D’Orsay Museum is always a must, but on this occasion it was to be a short visit as half of the museum is closed for repairs, with some of the collection in Melbourne. With all that action, for the last 6 months, photos have not been allowed in the D’Orsay. What a great incentive to start sketching. Sitting quietly, furtively, sketching in an incospicuous corner provides a good way of overcoming mental ‘museum clog’ or ‘cathedral clog’.