Last minute makeup and costume adjustments:
Lots of musicians:
Dancers
Masks:
Spectators
and boots
I couldn't help thinking how tired those feet would be after several hours of this!
Why this blog?
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Carnaval de Paris
We weren't able to make it to Rio for Mardi Gras; so we did the next best thing - we went to see the Paris Carnaval parade on Sunday. The sun came out after several days of clouds and rain, although it was very cold. The cold didn't dampen the enthusiasm of the dancers and musicians, however.
Last minute makeup and costume adjustments:
Lots of musicians:
Dancers
Masks:
Spectators
and boots
I couldn't help thinking how tired those feet would be after several hours of this!
Last minute makeup and costume adjustments:
Lots of musicians:
Dancers
Masks:
Spectators
and boots
I couldn't help thinking how tired those feet would be after several hours of this!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Doisneau et les Halles
This week we went to the Hรดtel de Ville to see the new exposition of photos by Robert Doisneau of Paris' former wholesale market, Les Halles, which occupied the center of the city until 1969. Doisneau spent 40 years photographing Les Halles - the "belly of Paris" - from 1933 until his death in 1994. Here are a few of the 200 photos from the exposition:
Thursday, February 16, 2012
The Iron Lady
Patrice and I went to see the film The Iron Lady on its opening day in Paris. We left the theater with completely opposite reactions.
I was mesmerized watching Meryl Streep as she portrayed Thatcher's declining health and descent into dementia. I loved the nuance in her voice, her regard, her every movement. I remember the Thatcher years in government, but did not have strong opinions regarding her political philosophy. For me, the movie was more than politics, more than history, more than a woman with an iron will. For me the movie was about marriage and family life and the price that one pays for political power. It is also a reminder of the ineluctability of illness, aging and death. I was entranced by the acting and the moving making, and less concerned about the historical legacy of a powerful and controversial political figure.
Patrice had a very different reaction. He appreciated the movie but he detests Margaret Thatcher and her political philosophy which is diametrically opposed to his own. "It's as if someone made a sympathetic film about Hitler," he said.
Whereas I focused on the superb acting of Meryl Streep, he only saw Margaret Thatcher and her conservative, anti-labor policies. He was incensed all over again by her political decisions, her treatment of labor unions, and her actions in the Falkland Islands. It made for an interesting discussion, however, and reminded us of another biopic which we recently saw in which another despicable historical figure, J. Edgar Hoover, was brought back to life by Hollywood.
I was mesmerized watching Meryl Streep as she portrayed Thatcher's declining health and descent into dementia. I loved the nuance in her voice, her regard, her every movement. I remember the Thatcher years in government, but did not have strong opinions regarding her political philosophy. For me, the movie was more than politics, more than history, more than a woman with an iron will. For me the movie was about marriage and family life and the price that one pays for political power. It is also a reminder of the ineluctability of illness, aging and death. I was entranced by the acting and the moving making, and less concerned about the historical legacy of a powerful and controversial political figure.
Patrice had a very different reaction. He appreciated the movie but he detests Margaret Thatcher and her political philosophy which is diametrically opposed to his own. "It's as if someone made a sympathetic film about Hitler," he said.
Whereas I focused on the superb acting of Meryl Streep, he only saw Margaret Thatcher and her conservative, anti-labor policies. He was incensed all over again by her political decisions, her treatment of labor unions, and her actions in the Falkland Islands. It made for an interesting discussion, however, and reminded us of another biopic which we recently saw in which another despicable historical figure, J. Edgar Hoover, was brought back to life by Hollywood.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Crazy Horse
No, not Chief Crazy Horse of the Lakota Sioux, I mean the Crazy Horse Saloon in Paris.
Yesterday was Valentine's Day and Patrice wanted to do something special for the holiday. Neither of us had been to the legendary cabaret for decades. Would it still be the same? Would it be sexy? The answer to the first question: yes, the show and especially the girls are remarkably true to the image created by Alain Bernadin, who founded the show in 1951. The girls all look alike: all white, all 5'5" - 5'6" tall, small breasts, trained dancers. The show still opens with the same sequence . .
Lots of silhouette images - this one reminds me of early James Bond openings.
Other vignettes are reminiscent of Cirque de Soleil - but it's all pretty softcore.
And the high heels! Check these out. . . .
The verdict? Well, I think we'll wait another 30 years before we go back . . .
Yesterday was Valentine's Day and Patrice wanted to do something special for the holiday. Neither of us had been to the legendary cabaret for decades. Would it still be the same? Would it be sexy? The answer to the first question: yes, the show and especially the girls are remarkably true to the image created by Alain Bernadin, who founded the show in 1951. The girls all look alike: all white, all 5'5" - 5'6" tall, small breasts, trained dancers. The show still opens with the same sequence . .
Lots of silhouette images - this one reminds me of early James Bond openings.
Other vignettes are reminiscent of Cirque de Soleil - but it's all pretty softcore.
And the high heels! Check these out. . . .
The verdict? Well, I think we'll wait another 30 years before we go back . . .
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Chinguetti
On our last day, our guide Baba took us to see the historic texts that we'd heard so much about.
We were expecting a library of some sort, but it turns out the books are in the hands of private families who have cared for them for generations. Conditions are not always easy for adequate preservation.
Other texts are still in remarkably good condition.
A last look at the town with its shops and residents
Then back to Atar where our plane was waiting to take us back to the cold Paris winter.
We were expecting a library of some sort, but it turns out the books are in the hands of private families who have cared for them for generations. Conditions are not always easy for adequate preservation.
Other texts are still in remarkably good condition.
A last look at the town with its shops and residents
Then back to Atar where our plane was waiting to take us back to the cold Paris winter.Ouadane to Chinguetti
Imagine my surprise when we set off for Chinguetti by heading straight into the open desert. We were a convoy of about 35 trucks - mostly Toyotas - but once we started, all notions of staying together fell by the wayside. Our driver seemed particularly aggressive, driving as fast as possible and refusing to follow in the tracks of those in front of us. Boy, did we bounce all over! I sat in the middle seat in the back - no seatbelt, no room for my legs, but at least I had people on either side of me to cushion the shocks from side to side.
No roads, no maps, no GPS, no signposts or landmarks - just the (divided) opinions of the guides. . . This is no place to get lost!
Oops, no shovels either. Everybody out to push.
Some hours later, we made it to the oasis of Tenourcherte where the nomadic families cluster around a well.
After a break at the oasis, and at least one episode of backtracking when our route was blocked by the dunes; we finally found our way Chinguetti. We arrived at sunset and were happy to rest our tired bodies.
No roads, no maps, no GPS, no signposts or landmarks - just the (divided) opinions of the guides. . . This is no place to get lost!
Oops, no shovels either. Everybody out to push.
Some hours later, we made it to the oasis of Tenourcherte where the nomadic families cluster around a well.
After a break at the oasis, and at least one episode of backtracking when our route was blocked by the dunes; we finally found our way Chinguetti. We arrived at sunset and were happy to rest our tired bodies.
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