L'opéra et L'église
On our slate for today, a visit to L'Opéra Garnier was built from 1861 to 1875 on the recommendation of Napoleon Bonaparte III to house the Paris Opera. In the lobby of the Hyatt, we again joined Sylvie who swore to forego the blah blah and so we started up Malesherbes Boulevard, us the children to Sylvie's Pied Piper. She set a brisk pace (which would prove to be detrimental to me) and we were soon at the Opera.
Designed by the architect, Charles Garnier, it was soon crowned the Palais Garnier due to its opulence. It was the primary theatre of the Paris Opera and the Paris Opera Ballet until 1989, when it was replaced by the Opéra Bastille which performed at the Place de la Bastille. It is probably the most famous opera house in the world at least in part due to its setting for Gaston Leroux's 1910 novel The Phantom of the Opera.
The opera was constructed in what Charles Garnier described as the "Napoleon III" style. (Probably a kissing of the royal arse to its highest degree.) This style was highly eclectic, and included elements from the Baroque, the classicism of Palladio, and Renaissance architecture. The 20th-century French architect Le Corbusier would describe it as "a lying art", perhaps naming it for what it was.
On our visit, the principal façade on the south side of the building was being overhauled and, thus covered in scaffolding and tarps. However, I was able to get a photograph of one of Charles Gumery's Poetry, one of two gilded figural groups, L'Harmonie (Harmony) and La Poésie (Poetry), which crown the apexes of the principal facade.
On entering I was immediately surrounded by corridors, stairwells, alcoves and landings, rich with velvet, gold leaf, and cherubim and nymphs and ornately painted ceilings, all characteristic of the Baroque style. After Sylvie used her silver ticket to by-pass the line and get us special entry we were on our way. We were immediately met by the large double Grand Staircase of white marble with a balustrade of red and green marble. The Grand Staircase proofed to be only the first of many staircases that would have to be traversed both up and down. At this point, I made the decision to take the abbreviated tour and save what remained of my complaining back for the remainder of our visit. (After all, this was but the first of eight more days of touristing.) Making my way through the ever present gift shop, I joined back up with Sylvie at her temporary office at the L'Entracte Restaurant just across the Rue Auber. Here she offered me a macaroon (I took chocolate of course) and we set and talked until all of her "children" had returned. Everyone scattered to their preplanned destinations while I decided to return with Sylvie to the Hyatt.
I rested up for about an hour and then decided that I might not have the opportunity to explore Paris again so I slipped on my shoes and hit the sidewalk. I had seen a large building just down the street and stopped to asked the attendant just what it was. He explained that it was L’église Saint-Augustin (the Church of St. Augustine). With that, I had my destination in sight.
Walking slowly but steadily, I made my way the several blocks to the church. The church proved to be quite large and I proceeded up the steps and passed through the heavy wooden doors. Doffing my hat, I walked to my right where a description and history of the church was displayed. Working hard with my sketchy knowledge of French, I started to reach for my phone for the translation program when I noticed the English text on the left.
Completed in 1868, it was part of a massive reconstruction of the center of Paris commanded by Napoleon III (of course). Designed by Victor Baltard, the structure uses cast iron ribs which permitted Baltard to utilize wide spans without the need for heavy external buttresses. The ribs are very visible and are designed to be part of the esthetic of the church. It sits on a site between two diverging roadways that results in a trapezoidal shape to make maximum use of the property. The alter is topped by a 200 foot diameter dome which rises 262 feet. It is said that Napoleon was inspired by St. Paul's in London when he lived there in exile.
Before I had entered the church, I noticed a statue of what appeared to be a knight on horseback raising a sword to heaven. It lay just south of the church on a triangular island between Malesherbes Blvd and Place Saint-Augustin. As I made my way across several cross walks, it began to dawn on me who the figure might be. And thus I found inscribed on it "Jeanne D'Arc, 1412-1431, who at the age of 17 endeavored to chase the enemy out of France, raised the seige of Orleans and defeated the English at Patay, crowned Charles VII at Reims, injured while trying to take Paris, she was captured at Compiegne and burned alive by the English at Rouen. She was 19 years old". I turned and walked away with a better understanding of her worth to France.
It being late in the afternoon, I felt it time to return to the Hyatt. However, as I passed one of the many sidewalk bistros, I decided to sit an have a bite. Ordering the croque monsieur (loosely translated as "I am an American tourist and don't know better") and a glass of Bordeaux, I am soon revived and continue back to the hotel.
After taking a few minutes to freshen up, I headed back to the lobby searching for a coffee. On the elevator when I mumbled some mundane words, one of the two elderly ladies asked where I was from. Telling her I then asked if she was from the States. She explained that her sister is from California and she is from Canada. Further conversation revealed that they came to the States from Scotland with their departed brother in the late 60s. He was a folk singer though not professional. I asked if they were familiar with Alex and they allowed as how they were familiar with the name but did not know him. They were also familiar with his brother Neil. We talked for a few minutes more and the proceeded on with whatever two little old ladies of Scottish descent to while in Paris.
With that, I had my coffee with a couple from Fla and Sue and Robin. He is half Italian so I had to relate the tale of my recently found Italian roots and then enquired if any of his female ancestors had lived in Chicago and if so, did the know any of the Pisano boys. A simple "no" resulted in a total change of subject and we turned to other mundane subjects until all of the wine and coffee was consumed. We then all headed to our rooms. Tomorrow we transfer to the S.S. Joie de Vivre where I will once again be united with Amy.
Before closing for the night, I admit that I attempted to absorb a little of the French language before arriving such as "merci", "s'il vous plaît" and "vin". The one phrase that I did commit to memory was "où est le bateau" which translates exactly to "where is the boat".
With that, I must again call it a night. As before, I will do the spell and grammar checking later and add pictures.
Bonne nuit.
To Day 3 - We Embark