Where is Home?

One of my "homes," the Upper West Side of Manhattan, as seen from the Central Park Reservoir running path (practically another one of my homes) on a hot sticky July day.  

That does sound like I'm about to start a laundry list of summer, winter, ski, beach, European, Asian, Hawaiian, Caribbean, etc., abodes that might appear in Architectural Digest as among the numerous residences of the rich and famous.  No, that's not it (because if it was, the sticky July summer home would most certainly NOT be in Manhattan).  

No, again, it's that this morning (from the comfort of my air-conditioned apartment), I watched a TED Talk by Pico Iyer entitled "Where is Home?"  And it really (as the theater folk say) landed.  It has caused me to think about aspects of my life upon which I never focused, being as wrapped up as I was in living it.

Let's give it some thought together, shall we?  Born where?  Parents from where?  Grew up where?  Attended school/college where?  Married where?  Early adult working years where?  Spouse/partner from where?  Raised the kids where?  Working/living now where?  Happy place(s) where?  Ethnic group influences?  Religious group influences?  

If the answers to the above questions are more than a few, like I realized they are with me, then you'll begin to understand Pico Iyer's point.  One of the beauties of his presentation is that home is wherever you take yourself, and that these movements, somewhat "outside" yourself, allow you to find yourself.  He does it much better than I, and that's why he gives the TED Talk and I am then so moved by it that I write a blog post.

And thus, the more time I am away from the place I've called home for over 30 years, and the more I find "myself" elsewhere (and for me now, that's primarily Paris), the more I, too, realize that home is me.  And that all of my life, my residences past and present, my children, my friends and family, my passions and interests, make up my home, wherever I am.  

I also realize that the people I meet who have lived likewise, even if so many other aspects of their particular backgrounds do not mesh with mine, are immediately recognizable to me.  

On a macro level, of course, I begin to see how this globalized culture is changing, and will continue to change, how we see the world, how we choose our friends and mate, where we choose to live, what we choose to do in our lives.  It is a very exciting thing to me, though it might simply elicit a shrug of the shoulders of those in the generations younger than mine.  It's just normal for them - kids born of parents from different parts of the world or of different religions or backgrounds, and then living in a few places and perhaps speaking two or more languages as a native, going to college with people from all over the world and, thus, moving so fluidly (and enviably to me) among their peers, similarly raised.  

Home - the place we come to feel secure and safe, but now also the place we learn and grow and expand our horizons and stretch our comfort zones.  That is quite a definition change, but not if home is "us." 

My favorite New York app

...is The Scoop, from The New York Times. 

It's like having an in-the-know friend in the city, and it's free.  As the easy-to-use home screen (example above) shows, there are specific categories that are updated regularly containing short reviews from Times reporters and often a link to the longer review that appeared earlier in the newspaper itself.

I love the great GPS locator in it, so that if I'm somewhere and looking for (more often than not) a coffee bar, it will tell me where to go - you'll find something new and never get lost. 

And speaking of coffee bars, this app is a wonder if you're anywhere below 34th Street, but the Upper West Side?  Oh, I wish.  Where are you, great coffee places, in my neighborhood?  Besides Joe, of course.

It's super for finding out what's happening in art, music, theater, dance and all things cultural in New York.  And I love the ideas for day trips out of NY, most of which can be reached by train or bus, if a car isn't in the cards.  The "Only in New York" section is perfect with its suggestions for out-of-town visitors (and for the weekend "tourist" that I so enjoy being even though I've lived here for so long).

Check it out and go somewhere new!  As you do, you can even feed your competitive soul, if you have one like I do, by check marking the spots you've been to.  Email, Facebook, web links, etc., are also easy to access from each of the posted items.  It's full of great ideas.  Even if you're a jaded New Yorker, you'll find something you never knew or thought about before.

Get out this weekend and do something new!

Changing the Air

As I write this morning, I manage to avoid a few minutes (hours?) of hitting the books to study for my final exams tomorrow (oral - 15 minutes) and Saturday (written - 3 hours!!).  

My French classes at the Sorbonne Cours de Civilisation Française just ended yesterday, marking for me a full academic year of studying French as a living language right in the heart of academic Paris.  It's been a dream come true, in fact, much more than that, as I could have hardly dreamed up the pleasures, challenges and surprises this experience has brought to me.  My life has changed as a result and, probably more importantly, my perspectives on life, on my life, that is.

Of course, I expected many things, such as new food, new surroundings and challenges in communication on a daily basis, for just a few examples.  But the sweetest pleasures have been the nuanced cultural differences I'd hardly have known about in my American life.  There are too many to list or briefly describe - perhaps someday a book on that, but one that arose each and every class day made me smile, for no particular reason, just because it was so obviously different and occurred in every classroom, without fail.

The change of air.

Upon arriving to class, I always found the window(s) wide open.  In winter, that meant the room was many degrees colder than the hallway and the door to the class often hard to push open because of the pressure against it from the wind rushing into the open window.  In rain and humidity, a bit of a damp, rainforest-like presence, unusual for an indoor sensation but equally refreshing in its own way, would greet my entrance.

And then, once the professor has arrived, the windows are quickly shut, to return the temperature to the appropriate indoor range and to permit the students to remove coats and sweaters and begin work.

This marks every class change.  Is it for health reasons, perhaps to rid the air of accumulated aerial residue of the dozens of students who enter and exit every couple of hours throughout the day?  Perhaps.  I have no idea.

I have grown to appreciate the practice, and I have found myself doing the same every time I arrive back "home" in Paris.  I fling open the two French doors to the air, no matter the temperature, no matter the precipitation, for a few minutes of what the French professors called "changing the air."

In addition to my conscious efforts to learn something here, namely, the French language, I realize I'm learning unconsciously, too.  These things, small as they may be, continue to open my eyes to a different world.  And for that, I continue to be enormously grateful.

May 1 - Lilies and Labor

Odd combination that it may appear, it is even odder (to me) in practice.  Today was my first May 1 in France.  It was a public holiday - May Day: La Fête du Muguet, La Fête du Travail.  It is a day to campaign for and celebrate workers rights.  It is also an occasion to present lily-of-the-valley or dog rose flowers to friends and loved ones.

The two have nothing to do with each other (as far as I can tell), but because it was a perfectly gorgeous day, and because of the upcoming Presidential Election here next Sunday, May 6, it was the perfect storm of manifestations (political marches), large public speeches by the candidates (as well as the candidates who didn't even make the cut after the first round), and the gifts of a sprig of lily-of-the-valley, which seemed to be carried around by everyone.

The story goes as follows:  King Charles IX of France was presented with lily-of-the-valley flowers on May 1, 1561. He liked the gift and decided to present lily-of-the-valley flowers to the ladies of his court each year on May 1. Around 1900, men started to present a bouquet to women to express their affection. The flowers are given between close friends and family members these days.

Some images of my May 1 in Paris:

 A little street music.

 A little afternoon wine to watch the march go by.

 Street sales of the flowers, which are permitted without license on only May 1.

 Posters for Presidential candidates and their "meetings" (use of the English word to describe rallies).

 Certain political leanings are manifested through the use of strategic vandalism.

Full evidence of spring, neither requiring the buckets of lily-of-the-valley or political speeches or parades.  But in Paris, on May 1, they all happen together.

Bibliotheque Centre Pompidou

Very little about the first few days back in Paris and my experiences here resemble the pattern of my days, in school or otherwise, of the first "semester" I spent here last fall.  And that's just fine, because the new of Paris coming at me even after a few months living here reminds me that, really, I'm just a short-term visitor, trying to make the most of my days here.

For example, last Friday, when a fellow student told me about the large library in the Pompidou Center, I was confused.  Of course, we all know about the contemporary art museum.  I had no idea there was also a library.  So I walked over (in the below-freezing temps) to check it out for myself.

The entrance is on the opposite side of the building from the museum's entrance with which most Paris visitors are familiar.  The library itself is on a bit of the ground level and the entirety of the next two floors up.  It's enormous, and there is media of every kind located there, including many internet terminals for public use, television sets tuned to broadcasts from various countries around the world, a large music department with CDs for listening and recorded performing art works for viewing, world periodicals, and books on academic as well as practical topics, such as finding jobs and living in Paris.  And there are many, many communal tables for sitting, reading and studying.  Food isn't permitted inside the library, except for a small cafeteria on one of its levels.

I'm told there is most often a long line to get into the library; hence, the rope maze out front resembles the waiting area for security clearance at an airport.  But, perhaps because it was an unusually cold day, there was no one waiting outside when I visited.  Inside, however, you do have to cue up to register to use a computer terminal.

It's a spare, open space, with large windows on all sides, sun streaming in on the rare sunny days, and  with wonderful views of the neighborhood in which the Pompidou resides.

Much more information can be found on the BPI link here, such as hours, speakers and events.  The museum is open to all and is worth a visit.

Chante France

A new French radio station from Paris for my iphone and ipad!  To compliment my classical favorite, Radio Classique, I have just added Chante France.  Check out the internet link, and if it's a hit, you can add it as an app through itunes to your iphone, etc. (gratuit - free).

This station plays popular songs in France, old and new.  I've found that many popular radio stations in Paris play as many (or more) songs that are sung in English (like American hits) as in French.  This one is all French!  I discovered it by receiving the station in Paris through the old-fashioned radio on my très basic French cell phone. 

It's great as a running companion, and I can try to mouth the songs as I run, which must be quite a sight.  My French teacher keeps telling us to join a church choir to améliorer our spoken French, but since I don't see me singing at Notre Dame any time soon, this is my next best thing. 

Vaux-le-Vicomte

So many options abound for a day out of the center of Paris that it's almost numbing to decide what to choose.  It just about paralyzed me, so much so that, other than my "randonnée" in a nearby pastoral suburb a while back, I just couldn't pry myself out of Paris for even a moment.  Of course, being tempted by all that Paris itself has to offer makes it just that much harder to leave.

However, finally prodded by friends to move out of my comfy surroundings, Vaux-le-Vicomte was the choice for a Saturday in the country.  Vaux-le-Vicomte is a chateau (one of many) that exists within a short train ride from Paris.  It was a perfect day trip on a perfect late-fall day. 

 

There is great history to this chateau (isn't there always?), and inside the chateau itself, they do a good job (kid-friendly, too, with some animated life-size figures in the decorated rooms) of presenting it.  In fact, the chateau and the gardens were designed by the architect and garden designer who later designed Versailles, and it is referred to as the "inspiration" for Versailles.  The good news is that it's not only much more manageable than Versailles to take in as a visitor, but the whole world isn't there with you on the day you're visiting!

For me, the real treat was the garden that seemed to go on and on, which in its time was so sophisticated in its design that the view changes throughout one's stroll through it, providing optical illusions and points of interest that are unseen until reaching various points along the way.

We brought sandwiches with us that we'd purchased at the train station, and so one goal was to locate just the right spot for our picnic.  That worked out well because, even though there was food for sale on premises, we didn't have to succumb to tourist site prices and quality.

Practical tip: the chateau runs a shuttle service to and from the train station closest to the chateau (Melun), but only in season.  My visit was OFF-season (check the website) and the shuttle was no longer running.  Getting to the chateau from the Melun train station after the 25-minute train ride from Gare de Lyon in Paris was no problem, but the return was an issue.  We waited almost an hour by the side of the road, along with others who'd called the same lone taxi service for the town, which appeared to have a total of two drivers and two taxis on staff.

That bit of inconvenience was quickly forgotten when we decided to check out the spectacular (and also historic) Le Train Bleu in the Gare de Lyon upon return and sit for a while in the cushy leather chairs of its "Big Ben Bar" contemplating our out-of-Paris day.

"La Source"

I was so overcome by my first ballet evening at the Opera Garnier that I jumped at the chance to buy a ticket to see another classical ballet performed there by the Paris Opera Ballet.  The ballet is La Source, and the ballet and its music were marvelous, but the memorable standout (for better or worse) were the incredible haut-couture costumes designed by Christian Lacroix.  

My curtain call photos don't do these costumes justice, but the New York Times also made note of Lacroix's recent efforts and much more detailed photos are here.

Of course, I cannot pass up another opportunity to display a few more photos of the iconic Paris Opera house.  No matter what is playing if/when a visit to Paris is on the calendar, this is a place not to miss for a theater lover (that is, a lover of the theater space itself).  Like many in Europe, the Opera is to theater what Notre Dame Cathedral is to places of worship.  

Well, that's my view anyway.  Here, decide for yourself.

Gertrude Stein Lived Here

27 Rue de Fleurus, an excellent location, if I do say so myself, very close to the Luxembourg Gardens in the sixth arrondissement, is the address of the residence of Gertrude Stein in Paris for 35 years.

I had no idea, until a local from the neighborhood who's lived here for a lifetime pointed it out to me.  I've been walking/running in front of that building, probably twice a day on average, for almost a month!  And I never noticed.

This is the home within which she and her brother, Leo Stein, started and developed their collection of paintings of the painters of that era whom they befriended; and the address itself, which became known as "27," is renowned for the Saturday evening "salons" that were held there by the Steins.

As I previously posted, that collection is now on view at the Grand Palais in Paris, through January 16, 2012.

"I have lived half my life in Paris, not the half that made me but the half in which I made what I made."

- Gertrude Stein

Sunday in the Parks

Just outside of the center of Paris...

Homework, and the double commencements two days ago of les conferences (2-hour lectures on French civilization) and phonetics classes of one hour per day have made it impossible to sit at the computer and contemplate my fabulous environment this week.  I'm now fully immersed in the student life, including homework at 1am following dinners out with visiting friends. 

But I did get out on Sunday, for my first organized randonée, which is basically a walk in the country that can vary in length and focus of the group (from fast nordic walking in a park, to more traditional hiking, and in my case on Sunday (about which I really hadn't read properly in the French - bien sur - description of the walk), water-coloring!  No, if you're wondering, I don't watercolor, paint or do anything artistic of that sort, though I have great admiration and envy for those who do and can.  So it was worthwhile on many levels, not least of which was the necessity to speak in French the entire day. 

Of course, where I got to walk and what was on view throughout the day was the main event.

Bois de la Malmaison

my fellow aquarellistes

I can't paint, but I can take an impressionistic photo?

Interesting residential architecture along the way

Chateau de Malmaison

Parc des Impressionnistes

up close

The group who organized this walk is Randoneurs de l'Ile de France, which is commonly referred to as RIF (pronounced "reef").  I learned that they are the largest membership organization for randonées in the Paris region; they organize dozens per week, all over the Paris region, all of which are accessible by train from a Paris train station or métro stop.  The walk I took was my free sample, and from now on, if I wish to do more, I must join (annual fees and other information appear in their website, which is also available in English).  My walk was relatively small for RIF (12 of us) and of a short walking duration (about 10km, and they usually average 18-25 km) because we sat for an hour at a time, twice during the day, for the watercoloring.  For me, those periods became a chance to walk alone, write and enjoy the quiet and sunshine.  You bring your own lunch and beverages in your back pack.  We shared the lunch hour together, sitting and chatting as the sun became warmer, while a couple of the more experienced randonneuses passed around cookies and chocolates they brought along for everyone.  

It was all so genteel and of another time, for this truly jaded New Yorker.  I hope I can go on another soon, before it gets too cold for wimps like me (although I have been told winter is the best time to hike - fuggedaboudit!!).  

But I hear Fontainebleau is a must, so I might have to rethink my natural New Yorker reflex on that one.

Seen at Café de Flore

I know I'm new to Paris and there's still a lot that I've not yet seen.  But I could have spent years here and never seen this, so I must share.  It's just simply too cute. 

 

This little guy was in his perch on his master's motorbike parked on the sidewalk of Boulevard Saint Germain right in front of the Café de Flore (whose history is described so completely and creatively on its website).  Isn't he just the épitomé of Parisian doggie style, nonchalance and je-ne-sais-quoi? 

Even jaded Parisians who've seen it all were laughing and taking pictures from their own perch at the prime café tables of the Flore.

Cézanne's Big Fall Season

Two important impressionist art exhibitions are opening in Paris this month, and Cezanne gets top billing in both.  

Cézanne and Paris opens at the Musée du Luxembourg next week, and from the looks of the preparation outside the museum (construction of temporary shelter for those waiting to enter), it's going to be big.

And this week marked the opening of the blockbuster show at the Grand Palais of the collections of the Stein family (that of Gertrude Stein) of Matisse, Cézanne and Picasso.  This show was already presented in San Francisco and, after leaving Paris, will come to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.  More information here.

If a trip to Paris is in your plans, these both will be hot tickets.  Best to try to get them online ahead.  I'm one to talk.  I've seen these posters for a week and have done nothing yet about it.  But, now that I have found the websites...

Election Coverage

With the French Socialist primary coming up this weekend, and the third of their debates just held last night (not to mention all their related political scandals and the European Union's many troubles), this front page headline and photo, garnering the above-the-fold location, caused me to do a double-take at the grocery store yesterday.

"The Republicans search for an identity."

By contrast, I wonder how much coverage our newspapers are giving to the French elections right now.  Or perhaps it's just that looking across the ocean at our political issues is a needed respite from France's own.

A Night at l'Opéra

I took the tour many years ago but I never actually sat in a box and watched a performance.  I did tonight.  It was a feast for the eyes.  In every direction, gold, sculpture, chandeliers and, oh yeah, that Chagall on the ceiling!  And that's just the performance hall.  The preliminaries are also every bit the worthy appetizer before the main course.  I had to stop every few feet because I kept looking up and around and otherwise would have likely fallen down one of the dramatic staircases.  

There was champagne for sale before and during the fairly long intermission, which was long enough to even step out on the front balcony terrace and watch Paris unfolding before you - cars circling the building, symmetrical buildings all around, and people sitting on the steps below.  It felt very special to be inside the theater for a performance, just imagining all the history (and all the gorgeous gowns and tuxedos) that must have gone before.  There were definitely no gowns and tuxedos in 2011 tonight, but most appeared to have polished up a bit for the occasion.

The occasion was the Paris Opera Ballet, one of the best ballet companies in the world.  Tonight was a performance of two ballets, the second being a new ballet by Alexei Ratmansky, who is currently Artist in Residence at American Ballet Theatre.  Because I have seen some of his beautiful choreography there, I was very interested to see more.

I bought my ticket online through the Paris Opera Ballet's web site just a few days ago.  It was very easy.  It doesn't let you select your exact seat but you can pick the general price location.  Picking up the ticket was confusing.  I followed the signs to what I think is the box office, in the back of the building.  But they sent me back around to the front of the building, where I eventually figured out that I had to wait in a line for a will-call desk just inside the front doors.  The line moved quickly, especially since ticket-holders mistakenly placed themselves in the same line.  You are given an order number during the online purchase.  It's important to bring that with you to pick up the tickets.

I really lucked out, too, in my seat location - just off the center, first row in a box which had a door that had to be unlocked by an attendant.  How elegant, and how perfect for my very first evening at l'Opéra.