The Commune

This year marks the 150th anniversary of the Commune, a government that held power in Paris from March to May 1871.  It's a period of history that no one much likes to talk about, perhaps because it was marked by so much internecine violence.  Or perhaps because no one, left or right, is willing to talk about the failures on both sides.  Whatever the reason, mementos about the period pop up around town, from the grafitti scratched into a wall in the 19th to a mural in the 7th, or streets in the 18th dedicated to the Commune's standard bearers.

Here's the Cliff Notes version as I understand it: 

In early 1871, France was at a low point, having just lost the Franco-Prussian War.  Paris had particularly suffered in this conflict; during the months long siege by the Prussians, there were severe food shortages and people were reduced to slaughtering pets and vermin to stay alive.  When the Germans finally left, the city was in tatters, social and economic conditions at a low point.  Discontent among the working class, that had been simmering for a decades, came to a head.

The future of Paris, however, lay not in their hands but with the national government which, like the kings before them, feared what Parisians might do if given the right to control their own city.  And so the workers took matters into their own hands, forming a new government called the Commune and immediately issued various decrees issued to improve quality of life:  educational reforms, separation of church and state, relief of debt for working men, and the abolition of night work.  The national government and its army retreated to Versailles.

And then from what I can gather, chaos ensued.  The revolutionaries were not fully prepared for the task of governing and the military powers were hell bent on breaking the revolutionaries at any cost.  No one was willing to negotiate.  Blood ran in the streets and fires burned, destroying many parts of the city including the Tuileries. At the end, the national government was triumphant, the revolutionaries shot or exiled.  And nothing much changed.

And yet the fight continues.  A conversation with friends who live in the 7th and 8th criticized a recent exhibit on the Commune at the Hotel de Ville as being predictably skewed towards the revolutionaries, the mayor of Paris being after all a Socialist.  In the 20th, the mairie sanctioned creation of a mural celebrating the anniversary. (To fully appreciate this mural, click on the picture below and it will enlarge.)

And opposite this wall, a billboard calls upon local residents to join the spirit of the Commune in carrying out unfulfilled promises for social and economic improvement.

Vive la Commune?  It's not for me to say.  But as for keeping history alive and using it as a tool for social progress, I'm all for it.

Seen in the 17th

Although I've given up on the idea of walking all the streets of Paris (or even all the streets on my Streetwise Paris map) before we part, that hasn't kept me from carrying the map with me and highlighting each achievement as I go.  And it continues to give me a construct for weekend wanderings.  If my husband is up for a walk, why not take on roads uncharted?

Last weekend we set off, map in hand, to explore hitherto unknown to us parts of the 17th arrondissement.  And along the way, we saw quite a few interesting sights.

A lady walking her dog while riding a bike.  You may have to look closely to see how this works.  I was struggling to get my camera out of my bag as she pedalled off into the distance.  Just above her right foot, notice the white horizontal piece of pipe.  The dog was connected by a very short leash to the pipe and that pup had to keep up a pretty good pace.

A confusing street sign.   Montenotte was a victory for Napoleon against the Austrians in 1796.  General Lanrezac led French forces during la guerre de quatorze (what we Americans call the First World War and after all we didn't get into it until 1917).  The name of the street was changed in 1927 but I guess no one had the heart to get rid of that beautiful mosaic sign.

A monument to the firefighters of Paris by Chinese artist Wang Du (who lives and works in Paris) .  Since there were fire trucks of every size parked in the vicinity, my husband suggested trying to capture their reflections in the monument -- a great idea which, unfortunately,  I was unable to execute.

An adorable little sign from time gone by.  I've since learned that while groom translates as bell boy, this sign actually refers to a hydraulic device that ensures that the door closes, not to an actual person.

Four Years in a Map

This map of Europe, a gift from my sister, hung on the wall of our apartment almost from the moment we moved in and very quickly became a living document of our travels.  It was virtually impossible to capture in a photograph and I'm afraid that my husband's visit to Svalbard in the Artic Circle and our family kayaking trip along the south coast of Crete didn't quite get into the frame.  Nor have we had the chance yet to mark the spots we'll visit on our upcoming vacation in Turkey (although Istanbul, the site of one of my husband's business trips, did make the cut.)

Looking at this map brings up memories of natural wonders and man-made treasures, great meals and mishaps in navigation, lovely hotels and quirky apartments, taxi rides gone bad and bracing boat rides, and lots of family time spent together.  The funny thing about travel, though, is the more places you visit, the more places there are to see.  Croatia, Ireland, Morocco, Slovenia, and Russia all beckon.  Berlin and Bologna, San Sebastien and the fjords of Norway, we'll get to you some day. 

Auvers sur Oise

After two passes through the town of Auvers sur Oise with my hiking group which offered little time to soak up the history of Vincent Van Gogh's final days there, I finally made the time to go back in early May.  With perfect weather and a great group of touring companions, it was certainly a day to remember.  And it's one that anyone visiting Paris can easily repeat themselves via commuter train from Gare du Nord in about 40 minutes.  There's just one change in Valmondois  or you can get off in Méry sur Oise and walk about 2.5 kilometers down the hill and across the river to Auvers.

And what to see when you get there?

There's the home of Dr. Gachet whose portrait by Van Gogh you probably know.

Views that inspired Cezanne which haven't changed too much since his day

The tiny room where Van Gogh lived during the last days of his life

A museum dedicated to absinthe, also known as the green fairy.

And of course there's the church immortalized by Van Gogh and the cemetery where you'll find his grave and that of his brother Theo.  I didn't take any pictures of those on this most recent trip but you can go back in time with me and see them here.   We didn't make it to the Daubigny museum nor to the chateau except to have an incredible picnic (yes, they actually let you sit on the grass!)

Art, history, country air, good friends, good food, and champagne.  Now there's a combo that's hard to beat.

 

Street Art

After all the sunny weather we had in April and May, it's not so easy to go back to the typical Parisian weather -- cool and gray being the order of the day, pretty much any time of year.  But after being cooped up in the house much of last week, I didn't care what the weather was when Friday rolled around.  My friend had promised to take me on a tour of street art and how could I say no to that?

Turns out that the tour was one prepared by Adam Roberts, whose blog, Invisible Paris, I always enjoy.  Adam's Paris rarely features fashion, chocolate or restaurant reviews. Thank goodness.  Instead, his focus is a mix of architecture, urban history, art, politics, and sociology.   This tour (which you can download for your smartphone at iTunes or in a .pdf if you're old school like me) wanders about the streets of Menilmontant and Belleville on the city's eastern edge.

But street art being what it is, some of it had disappeared since the last time my friend had done the walk. There were freshly painted walls in places, buildings demolished in others.  But there were also new works, and one series, featuring a lonely looking fellow on a ladder, particularly captured our attention. 

Every time we rounded a corner, there was another variation with moods varying from introspective to humorous to alienated.



At one point, we happened upon an entire wall populated with these figures.  Regrettably, I did not note the exact location.

None of these works were signed and certainly not explained.  So who is this mysterious artist and what does it all mean?  I shot an e-mail to Adam and very quickly he found the answer.  If you're as curious as me, you'll have to pop on over to his blog....the story continues here.

Thanks to Adam for his incredible responsiveness to my question.  And a thousand thanks to Karen for sharing the day with me.  Wherever you lead, I will follow.

The Forties

The forties.  Special numbers to me because these are the years I passed in Paris.

Back next Sunday with the fifties (which I hear are the new thirties.)

Metro Mishap

Technical incidents, strikes, sick passengers can all create havoc with the morning commute. But an animal on the track? Let your imagination run wild with this one.