VENI, VIDI, VAN GOGH

My first encounter with Van Gogh goes back to my young philatelist days. I started collecting les timbres in the late 60s. My collection had no particular focus and my approach was opportunistic: find an envelope with a pretty image, cut out the top right corner, soak and remove the stamp, let dry. Of course, bigger was better and I was always on the lookout for large commemoratives. La Poste regularly issued stamps in their Série touristique and I was especially fond of them: those miniature gravures took me to Le Mont Saint-Michel, Carcassonne, and Bort-les-Orgues long before I was old enough to visit the actual locations on my own.

My second favorite category was fine arts. Not so much because I was enamored with paintings but because these stamps were always oversized and they just looked stunning in my red album. A couple of school friends were collectionneurs as well and we traded our duplicates. I got my first timbre artistique from Laurent: it was La Baigneuse by Dominique Ingres. Van Gogh didn’t enter my collection until 1979 when the Post Office issued L’Eglise d’Auvers sur Oise. What a shock! I had never seen such a luminous stamp. It simply popped from the album page and made all other paintings look bland.

A visit to the musée d’Orsay in 1988 was a revelation: twenty-four of his paintings, in one room, bathed in natural light. I was transfixed by the richness of his colors, the depth of his blues in particular. I stared at Starry Night, a painting so powerful that I felt pulled into the deep water of the Rhône river.

A trip to Arles in 2017 cemented my appreciation for his works. My friend Raegan and I walked in Vincent’s footsteps, searching for the exact locations that he painted during two of his most prolific years.

While in Paris last month, Rick and I made a point of booking tickets to “Van Gogh: La nuit étoilée” at L’Atelier des Lumières, an immersive experience that runs through December 2019. Located in the 11th arrondissement, it is situated on the site of the former Fonderie du Chemin-Vert, a factory that started casting metal in 1835. The location had not been occupied since 2000; Bruno Monnier came up with the project of converting the space into a center for numeric arts. The first show opened in 2018 and was devoted to Gustav Klimt.

To say that Van Gogh: La nuit étoilée is a projection of the artist’s works on the interior walls of a building is inadequate. This is very different from the vacation slide shows we all endured in our parents’ living room during the 70s! To produce the exhibit, thousands of tableaux –and some of Vincent’s letters to his brother Theo– were digitized at a very high resolution. The images are set in motion to complement an inspired musical score that includes classical and modern pieces from Vivaldi to Miles Davis, from Mozart to Nina Simone. More than one hundred video projectors are used to broadcast the program on the walls and the floor of the Atelier; it’s custom-made to take advantage of the various surfaces, the angles of the walls, and the roundness of the pillars.

Each visual and musical sequence truly immerse you into Van Gogh’s universe: ten chronological scenes illustrate his painting style and technique, showcase his favorite subjects, and transport the viewers to his famous locales: Montmartre, Arles, Saint-Remy, Auvers. The images dissolve into each other and seem to be animated. Yet, the sequencing is not too speedy: it’s still possible to appreciate the richness of a given painting –and its details– but on a much larger scale than in a museum viewing. The photos on this post don’t do justice to the exhibit: they are just meant to convey the ambition of the show and the feeling of the space. I found the whole installation to be truly spectacular, almost magical. Planning a trip to Paris this year? I highly recommend you make time for Van Gogh: La nuit étoilée and plunge into the deep blue waters of the Rhône river.

Here are a few useful tips if you decide to go to L’Atelier des Lumières.

• Besides Van Gogh, the current exhibit features two other immersions: Japon Rêvé (excellent) and Verse, which made me feel like I was witnessing the Big Bang or traveling in space. All three programs are shown successively in the main hall; the whole experience lasts one hour.

• This show runs through December 31, 2019. Admission is limited and you must book your ticket online. The online calendar shows available days and time slots.

• Time slots are on the half-hour: depending on your scheduling, the program (for you) might start either with Van Gogh or with Japan/Verse.

• I don’t know whether all time slots sell out but there might be fewer spectators during the lunch hour or at the tail end of the day. There are nocturnes on Friday and Saturday nights. Predictably, weekends sell out faster.

• The place didn’t feel crowded to me or, at least, the crowds didn’t interfere with my viewing pleasure. There is a sitting area in the mezzanine and some circular benches scattered in the room. Many people chose to sit or even lie down on the floor; some preferred to stand but were considerate not to do so in front of those who were sitting down. You can wander around but the projected images are seamlessly repeated in different areas: you will not be missing anything if you just stay put in a particular spot. I didn’t feel there was one bad seat in the house, just slightly different perspectives due to the various shapes of the surfaces.

• Non-flash photography is authorized but I would recommend that you just allow yourself to take in the whole experience and not be distracted. If you absolutely want to take photographs, my suggestion is to stay for a “second round” as the whole program repeats on the hour and you will not get kicked out if you stay for a second viewing.

• Save some time for the gift shop: the selection and the quality of the items are worthy of the top museums I’ve visited.

L’Atelier des Lumières
38 rue Saint Maur
75011 Paris

Vocabulary

Le timbre: stamp
La Poste: French post office
La Série touristique: touristique series
Le collectionneur: collector
Le timbre artistique: fine arts stamp
La Baigneuse: Female Nude, Bather
L’Eglise d’Auvers sur Oise: Church at Auvers
Le tableau: painting

CURIOUS

Paris is filled with architectural wonders: Notre-Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Grand Palais, Pei’s Pyramid… Whether medieval, contemporary or anywhere in between, the city offers enough structures to fill your time for weeks. After hitting the must-see monuments and museums, those of us who are lucky enough to visit Paris frequently become flâneurs: we just wander around, looking up and looking down, taking in the little details that regular guidebooks do not cover. We start noticing the different designs of heurtoirs and chasse-roues, niches in stone walls that used to contain oil lamps, public horloges and cadrants solaires, old wells with their iron pulleys, street signage that preceded the familiar cobalt enamel plaques, bullet marks that remind us of turbulent times, the occasional boîte à sable, perhaps even the boule aux rats at the church of Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois.

Sundials. There are 120 of them scattered around Paris, including this monumental one on rue Perrée, 3rd arr.

Four years ago, I picked up a copy of Curiosités de Paris from éditions Parigramme. They specialize in Paris-centric titles and I own almost all of them. It quickly became my inseparable travel companion. I refer to it for explanations about odd architectural discoveries I make during my walks. Sometimes, I comb the book ahead of my trip to identify unusual sights and objects I will encounter in the areas I plan to visit. The book is organized by categories but also features an index by arrondissement that cross-references hundreds of small treasures. Here are a few samples gleaned from my various scavenger hunts.

Corner guards. Ubiquitous at the entrance of old doors, they can be made of stone or cast iron. So many different designs, all made to protect the corners of a building from the wheels and axles of carriages. Rue Notre-Dame de Nazareth, 3rd arr. To the left, a leveling marker.

Street corner religious statues. Former oratory niches with statuettes of Mary, Madonna and Child, or various saints. Maison Bleue, across Notre-Dame-des-Victoires used to sell religious objects. 2nd arr.

Guild signage. To identify trades and occupations. A cast iron Graphic Arts panel replaces a window on rue Crussol, 11th arr.

Measuring instruments. Thermometers and barometers are less common than clocks but this one in passage Bourg l’Abbé is particularly stunning. 2nd arr.

Tombs. Strolling the cemeteries yields fascinating discoveries such as the Pigeon family grave in Montparnasse. He patented a portable gasoline lamp. 14th arr.

Vestiges of gas lighting. Before la fée électricité, street lighting used gas and fire stations had their own distinctive lanterns. Rue du Château-d’Eau, 10th arr. 

Ceramics and mosaics. On floors, ceilings, storefronts, building entrances… sometimes, the whole street is a visual feast. One of eight arcades of mosaics featuring wild animals at passage Rauch, 11th arr.

Architectural oddities. A drive-through château? Why not? Château des Ternes in the 17th arr.

Clocks. Old public clocks abound but this one at the 24-hour Central Post Office on rue du Louvre sticks out on a bracket to improve visibility: essential to make sure your tax return is stamped before midnight. 1st arr.

I was thrilled when this book was translated into English last year. The publisher sent me an advanced copy and I promptly added it to our catalog selection. It is a fantastic compendium of exciting, unusual finds.

My French and American copies

But I’m still curious about something. Did you ever notice that the spines of French and American books read in opposite directions? Anybody knows why? Please, post your theories in the comments section.

Vocabulary
Le flâneur: someone who strolls aimlessly
Le heurtoir: door knocker
Le chasse-roues: corner guard
L’horloge (f): clock
Le cadrant solaire: sundial
La boîte à sable: sandbox (used in case of icy streets)
La boule aux rats: ball of rats
La fée électricité: electricity fairy

PASSAGE TO INDIA

I’ve already confessed my love of outdoor markets. One of the bright sides of living in the Central Valley is local availability of bountiful produce. Nevertheless, a stroll through a French market yields many pleasant surprises. Not just because of the different varieties of fruits and vegetables: cultural preferences in regards to size also play a part. I always know that I’m in France when the stalls brim with slender poireaux, tiny fraises des bois, diminutive aubergines… or huge balls of céleri rave without knobs. In Paris, I’m particularly fond of Marché Bastille: the aisles are not too narrow and the selection of ingredients and prepared dishes is quite extensive. If you wish, you can even purchase a plate of chucked oysters and a glass of Muscadet to enjoy sur place.

In July 2011, I met a vendor whose offering was not of the edible kind but turned out to be the highlight of my day. He was selling leather-bound notebooks. They all looked different and varied in size, thickness, and color. Some covers were smooth, some were a bit rugged, others were stamped but they all showed an unmistakable antique patina. Each one was hand-made and tied with two or three feet of black string. He explained that he had bought a pallet of accounting ledgers from India. He unfolded one of these ancient leather books and unveiled yellowed pages filled with Sanskrit. He would cut pieces from their long covers, wrap them around a folio of white paper, and saddle stitch the whole thing together to create new books. They were beautiful. I purchased four of them, intending to keep one for myself and give the others to friends who would use them to sketch or journal. As I was relishing their smooth buttery texture between my fingers, I wondered whose hands had stroked that same leather a long time ago, in a land far, far away.

Vocabulary
Le poireau: leek
La fraise des bois: wild strawberry
L’aubergine: eggplant
Sur place: on the premises