Today, Friday the 28th, was filled with variety. I straggled out of bed at 6:20 to set out the butter and jam for Denis, who needed to eat breakfast and leave by 7:00, but my efforts were not needed because Janie always gets up early and had already arranged breakfast for him. She then talked with him about church music in his congregation (while I went back to bed).
After showering, Janice and I set up breakfast for 6 (not including Neal and Janie) in the library, coffee and all, and then the Bloughs eventually joined us for a wonderfully leisurely time together over coffree, covering all kinds of things as people waited to catch the metro to get their train, etc. The conversation was so interesting, involving Mennonites from various countries but with very similar global perspectives. In spite of missions virtually screaming for funding, these people continue working in the most positive ways imaginable. None of them is in it for the money, that is clear, and they figure out how to get by on far less in expensive Europe than we ever would in North America.
I spent the remainder of the morning on photography, selecting several hundred of my photographs from France 2009-10, and putting them in a format Linda Oyer can use when speaking to people. Yesterday, I had offered to take photos if she ever wanted during our future visits (plural) and she confessed to following my blogs, enjoying my photography and thinking some of my present photos could be useful. Well! That was all I needed to hear, so I put three CDs together for her and Yves delivered them this evening. Meanwhile, Janice and Yves had a long and productive four hours in the library office going over classification problems, software challenges, discussing books which offer cataloguing challenges, and some theology. Janice tells me they made good progress. Yves’ ongoing weekly work is crucial to the Centre's library, and he is involved in other activities undertaken by the Centre.
After a salad lunch, I headed somewhat ambiguously downtown, no specific goal in mind. This was my first outing after getting over my cold and I had not thought things through. I just wanted to have fun shooting. I missed one métro stop which had crossed my mind, so I got off at St Paul (Le Marais), one of the old Jewish districts of the city.
First of all, I happened upon a fascinating book store which seemed to specialize in remainders and artsy things. It was obviously a low-overhead operation with young and dedicated staff. I simply had to take a photo of French books being displayed in French wooded wine cases--how wonderfully French. In retrospect, and with considerably more courage I could have taken a few pictures on the ground floor, though there were quite a few customers and laws say you need everybody's permission when shooting in private spaces. Anyway, this whole store was built into one of those old carriage entry ways that go through a building wall into an inner courtyard. Both the carriage way (tall and wide enough for a horse-drawn carriage) and courtyard were transformed into this book store, complete with the original cobblestone floor (just like the road outside), granite curbing--I never saw the like.
I saw an old window that interested me as the light reflected off the panes in different ways since the panes themselves were at differing angles. The windows' glass is structurally weak but what an interesting design. It would be worth being chilled all winter if I could see the day through windows like that.
Then I keep seeing all the chimneys and realize that each once serviced a fireplace, and that each chimney had to be cleaned by chimney sweeps for centuries, somehow scaling those steep slippery slate roofs.
I also enjoy the way Paris has cafés at the most narrow places, forcing pedestrians to walk around them and sometimes walk on the road. Doesn't matter, when you live in a city with virtually no grass or trees, block after block, your soul needs "fresh air" even if it is mingled with traffic fumes. This makes a difference to city life and Parisians clearly embrace their cafés, though I read that several thousand closed in France the recent downturn as some folks had to give up little luxuries. That was why the government lowered taxes on restaurant food--now that's Good Government.
Well, I must confess that I really do have enough shots of cafés, and of old buildings, narrow streets and the like, so I started thinking “I need something different”.
It was then that I heard a deep alto voice soaring over the city's noises, singing opera of all things, so I followed my ear, the one with the hearing aid still left in it. Paris, indeed France, at times gets its priorities right. They may not spend much on the military (Germans say that French tanks have five gears, four of which are for reverse) but they do know how to make city life fascinating and cultural. In my inimitable fashion, I had accidentally come across an unusual and fascinating cultural project—portable opera. The lead singer had a Baroque-style white wig and a dress that was so outlandish I first thought it was a guy in drag. The baby-C grand piano was mounted on car tires, along with the accompanist’s stool, so the piano/pianist could be pushed down the street while playing and suffer few bumps on the cobblestones. The pianist and pageturner were dressed for the caberet in the early 1900s. A large set of four speakers was mounted on a pole attached to the piano, broadcasting the miced piano and singer.
After a crowd gathered, the singer called out most invitingly, and perhaps 80 grade school children came marching out to the music in pairs, left-right left-right, big grins, parents all lined up with cameras and cellphone cameras (no picture, I couldn't get close enough). The next thing I knew, police had blocked off some of the very narrow streets in Le Marais and the opera procession was underway. We heard opera arias as the Pied Pipers wended their way down this street and that.
People in cafés were amused, or just ignored it all, but there was so much going on that I felt free to take pictures almost at will.
Finally, I had something to write home about, and I'll surely never see this sort of thing again. Amazing city, this Paris. And to think that they actually get enjoyment from their tax dollars. This is but the prelude to an entire weekend (next week) of arts, exhibitions, recitals, concerts--all free, all encouraging people to enjoy French art and culture, each other and life in the warm evenings as summer approaches.
With love from us both, Evan
1 comment:
What a sight -- opera on the street. Sounds like you are having a fantastic time.
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