The first time we visited the Louvre, we had one of those great tickets--all the museums you could squeeze into three days in the middle of high tourist season. It really is a great deal for the first-time visitor. But for us, one of the results was having about an hour or so at the Louvre in July. Analogies are hard to come by here, but that's kind of like getting just one of those little taster spoons and saying you have a good idea of what Baskin & Robbins has to offer. Yesterday we took a different approach--four hours on the first floor of the Richelieu wing. No, we still haven't seen the whole Louvre, but we have a better idea. First, the building itself is fantastic, not only in size but also in detail. Rooms like this make me just want to find a clear space on the floor and lie on my back with my mouth wide open. But that would be uncool.
The collection itself is immense. Only a small fraction of it is on display, but the beauty of that small fraction is breath-taking. This piece, for instance, standing about four feet tall, just exudes energy. It also tells a story. I couldn't find it written down anywhere, but I'm pretty sure the guy is saying "I lifted you over this horse and now you want to go over THERE?"
Opposite the Richilieu wing is the Denon wing. Of course, the only way to get there on the first floor is to walk all the way around. So why would you want to? Because of this lady:
The first time we were here, getting such a picture was out of the question due to the crowd packed in front of her. This time (off-season, reduced tourism) it was much easier.
After the Louvre, we headed over to the evening's entertainment, passing this metro entrance along the way. I mean, it's eye-catching and all that, but I'm afraid that if I worked nearby I'd take the bus rather than have to walk into that thing every day!
The evening's entertainment was at Ste. Chappelle, the chapel built by Louis IX to house the Crown of thorns, which he had bought for a sum that excedeed the cost of the chapel that took thirteen years to build. If you attended St. John's UMC on the first Sunday of advent, you may recognize this panoramic view of its vault:
We were there at night, so we couldn't get a good picture of the stained glass. But in a darkened chapel, with soft lighting of the front of the room, Les Soloistes Français had a lovely place to perform. Opening with the Pachelbel Canon, and using Albonioni's Adagio as a segue, the centrepiece of the program was Vivaldi's Four Seasons. I never realized six stringed instruments could produce such power. It was a magnificent ending to a very nice day.
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