Dear Mother,
I see that I have a few more photos from the Fête de la musique, photos that I took while we walked around looking for a place to eat. We left St Eustache and immediately heard musicians at work and young people gathering, getting ready for a full evening of partying.
There was no shortage of drink available during the Happy Hour. In spite of all the drinking, I never saw a sign of trouble anywhere.
Couples also met on the impressive stone stairs descending to the River Siene.
This gentleman was quite the singer of English blues (with a delightful French accent).
There were groups all over the place. Most were located in front of the
cafés who helped to sponsor the music groups. She was utterly energetic, jumping around, even getting patrons to stand from their meals and dancing.
Other patrons enjoyed the music as background, as did we, but resolutely focused on conversation, drinks and meals.
I saw several local residents listen to music below (actually, they had no choice).
The music we heard during supper came over a wall from a boat on the River Siene. After supper, we walked over to listen (and photograph).
Police could occasionally be seen, and wanted to be seen, but they were not needed. This one even took time to photograph the musicians.
I almost don't want to return to the downtown. The area will seem so normal, with people going to and from work, sipping coffee at this café and that, but the sense of festivity will be missing. We were lucky to experience it.
All for now, with love from us both,
Evan
Monday, June 22, 2015
Fête de la musique, singing on Pont des Arts
Dear Mother,
The highlight of yesterday's Fête de la musique was, appropriately enough, enacted on the Pont des Arts. This pedestrian bridge was perfect for music making, but one group in particular attracted attention. Two accordion players and a clarinetist had about twelve chairs set up for people interested in hearing/singing some oldie goldies. In fact, I could barely see the seated in the audience. There were far more people gathered around, joining in the songs. A lady handed out excellent booklets with the song texts, but some people waived them off. I could read their lips--they knew the songs by heart. Indeed, everybody seemed to enjoy singing along. The sun was setting, it was about 10:00 p.m., and once again, I enjoyed photographing while people enjoyed singing.
A bit farther on the bridge was this brass-woodwind ensemble that played easy jazz.
I walked Janice to the métro, but stayed on to walk elsewhere and observe other groups. But the light faded quickly and proved insufficient for photography. Some started reading their texts by the lights of the mobile phones.
By midnight, I too returned to the métro and headed home.
We slept in, not setting the alarm. A real treat after a full day.
With love from us both,
Evan
The highlight of yesterday's Fête de la musique was, appropriately enough, enacted on the Pont des Arts. This pedestrian bridge was perfect for music making, but one group in particular attracted attention. Two accordion players and a clarinetist had about twelve chairs set up for people interested in hearing/singing some oldie goldies. In fact, I could barely see the seated in the audience. There were far more people gathered around, joining in the songs. A lady handed out excellent booklets with the song texts, but some people waived them off. I could read their lips--they knew the songs by heart. Indeed, everybody seemed to enjoy singing along. The sun was setting, it was about 10:00 p.m., and once again, I enjoyed photographing while people enjoyed singing.
A bit farther on the bridge was this brass-woodwind ensemble that played easy jazz.
I walked Janice to the métro, but stayed on to walk elsewhere and observe other groups. But the light faded quickly and proved insufficient for photography. Some started reading their texts by the lights of the mobile phones.
By midnight, I too returned to the métro and headed home.
We slept in, not setting the alarm. A real treat after a full day.
With love from us both,
Evan
Eglise St Eustache, Festival 36h
Dear Mother,
Yesterday (Sunday) was the first day of summer, so Paris celebrated with an evening of music. Music groups could be heard almost everywhere we went--bridges, cafés, parks, the river--everywhere. The evening was warm enough if you brought a sweater, and the crowds were out like I have not seen for years.
We began the late Sunday afternoon as usual, by going to the Eglise St Eustache to hear another organ recital. We went at what we assumed would be 30 minutes ahead of the recital so we could get seats, but I had not done my homework. The recital began at 5:00 rather than the usual 5:30, and the enormous cathedral-like church was filled, with people sitting even on the cold stone floor. I later learned that St Eustache had either live music or a Mass scheduled, back to back, for 36 straight hours! All kinds of groups, from the classical organ repertoire to rock, gospel to choral music and jazz.
Since I couldn't sit, and since the organ works were transcriptions of orchestral compositions (a bit on the popular side), I listened casually while strolling where I could, taking photos of people listening. There was standing room only throughout the church, and nearly everybody remained there for the full 45 minutes.
People tried to catch a glimpse of the organist, craning around pillars and pulpit.
The cool floor likely felt fine on the warm afternoon.
The organist always has a page turner who stands. The man in the blue sweatshirt was one of the volunteers who helped to organize the crowd as it moved out at the west end of the church so that the next crowd could enter at the southern transept.
Some volunteers were stationed so that nobody approached the altar or the choir stalls. Things were set up for the 6:00 Mass which followed.
The organist played the console at ground level, but the thousands of pipes are up quite high.
A photo of a photo.
For Ravel's ever-popular Bolero, someone played the snare drum ever so steadily. Its rhythmic pattern, once established, never changes. People love it.
Not many organists can dream of such large enthusiastic audiences.
More later, with love from us both as we are in count-down mode,
Evan
Yesterday (Sunday) was the first day of summer, so Paris celebrated with an evening of music. Music groups could be heard almost everywhere we went--bridges, cafés, parks, the river--everywhere. The evening was warm enough if you brought a sweater, and the crowds were out like I have not seen for years.
We began the late Sunday afternoon as usual, by going to the Eglise St Eustache to hear another organ recital. We went at what we assumed would be 30 minutes ahead of the recital so we could get seats, but I had not done my homework. The recital began at 5:00 rather than the usual 5:30, and the enormous cathedral-like church was filled, with people sitting even on the cold stone floor. I later learned that St Eustache had either live music or a Mass scheduled, back to back, for 36 straight hours! All kinds of groups, from the classical organ repertoire to rock, gospel to choral music and jazz.
Since I couldn't sit, and since the organ works were transcriptions of orchestral compositions (a bit on the popular side), I listened casually while strolling where I could, taking photos of people listening. There was standing room only throughout the church, and nearly everybody remained there for the full 45 minutes.
People tried to catch a glimpse of the organist, craning around pillars and pulpit.
The cool floor likely felt fine on the warm afternoon.
The organist always has a page turner who stands. The man in the blue sweatshirt was one of the volunteers who helped to organize the crowd as it moved out at the west end of the church so that the next crowd could enter at the southern transept.
Some volunteers were stationed so that nobody approached the altar or the choir stalls. Things were set up for the 6:00 Mass which followed.
The organist played the console at ground level, but the thousands of pipes are up quite high.
A photo of a photo.
For Ravel's ever-popular Bolero, someone played the snare drum ever so steadily. Its rhythmic pattern, once established, never changes. People love it.
Not many organists can dream of such large enthusiastic audiences.
More later, with love from us both as we are in count-down mode,
Evan
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