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Wednesday, March 31, 2010
70 More Museums to Go (At Least..)
Just for kicks, and since it's a rainy day, I've made a list of the remaining museums that I know about in Paris. Send me a comment if you know of any more, or if you want to come along! Because, who can resist a museum devoted entirely to fans, or one that combines an aquarium with exhibits on the history of immigration, or one devoted entirely to tennis?
March 30: Institut du Monde Arabe (Institute of the Arab World) Take Two
When I wrote about the Institute of the Arab World last time, I said that I would give it another chance if I went to see a special exhibition. So I went, and… I’m still not sure. The exhibition, “Orient-Hermès,” combines lush showcases full of Hermes products and the traditional crafts from Morocco and India which inspired them with stations where craftsmen display their methods of glass-painting, saddle-making, mosaic, stone-carving, etc. On the one hand, it’s kinda like paying admission to see the equivalent of a really fancy Hermès combined with a tourist market in Marakesh (complete with icky locals who call you “pretty girl” and ask you if you would like to take a couscous with them) (not kidding); on the other hand, when are you going to have another chance to chat with the dude who makes Hermès saddles featuring embroidered gold lace?
March 25: Palais de la Découverte (Discovery Palace)
No sooner do I finish making fun of Paris for being so over-museumed that it has two separate Asian art museums than I discover that it also has two kid-oriented science museums: the City of Sciences and Industry and this one, the Discovery Palace. And yet, while the City of Sciences and Industry is far newer and shinier, I seem to remember dissing its “pervasive lukewarm hotdog smell” and uninspired, uninteresting displays. The Discovery Palace, by contrast, is pretty awesome. The displays are engaging – you learn about sensory perception from tanks of electric fish or physics by sending pendulums crashing into one another. Most importantly, the museum avoids the blind leading the blind phenomena by having lots of talks and demonstrations in every subject area throughout the day. It’s all in French, but worth checking out if you’re a science-museum fan.
March 24: Fondation Cartier pour l’Art Contemporain (Cartier Foundation for Contemporary Art)
You know those ridiculous and hilarious Japanese game shows, where contestants run around dressed up as, I don’t know, Lego blocks while trying to swim through ponds of pudding and sing karaoke at the same time? Imagine if the twisted genius responsible for that kind of thing also made paintings and sculptures on the side. Now slowly open your eyes… and your dream has come true at the Cartier Foundation! Beat Takeshi Kitano, who manages to be both a silly physical game-show comedian and an award-winning serious filmmaker, has filled the Cartier Foundation with hilarious… well, I’m not sure if they deserve to be called “artworks,” so let’s say “fun stuff which occasionally attempts to parody the contemporary art world.” Paint a giant dinosaur with a machine-gun-style spray gun! Learn about Kitano’s theories on why the T Rex went extinct (e.g., because it couldn’t brush its teeth)! Watch French toddlers frolic amidst his paintings of cartoonish and yet sexually suggestive tomcats! In short: both fun and extremely, extremely random.
March 24: Fondation Henri Cartier Bresson (Henri Cartier Bresson Foundation)
Aside from a couple of photographs, drawings, and cameras of Henri Cartier Bresson’s on the top floor, the rest of this small building is devoted to special exhibitions of other photographers. It’s like a gallery – neutral walls, a teeny bit of wall text as you enter the room. There seems to be a commitment to period prints made by the photographer instead of modern reproductions, which is nice, but… the whole thing is a bit blah. Maybe that’s because I’m not such a fan of the work of Robert Doisneau, currently on display. Soooooo many photographs of bleak factory landscapes. A must-do if you’re toting a vintage Leica around Paris; otherwise, meh.
March 22: Musée des Collections Historiques de la Prefecture de Police (Museum of the Historical Collections of the Police Prefecture)
So promising in conception and yet so disappointing in execution. This museum, displaying the history of Paris’ “guardians of the peace,” has crime scene photography! burglary tools! murder weapons! In my mind, my visit was going to be like making out with Sherlock Holmes while McGruff the Crime Dog brought us brandy from a cask around his neck.
The first blow to my fantasy came when I had to work my way though about four rooms detailing the history of the museum. Sure, it’s mildly interesting that it began as a display in a late 19th century Universal Exhibition. But do I need to know about its moves to new display spaces during the 1970’s? Not so much.
When I finally hit the crime-fighting rooms, I found that the crimes were pretty old news (mostly 19th century) and also not chosen to illuminate the methods of the police. In fact, one of the cases which gets the biggest display space was “solved” only because the killer sent a confession to the police in remorseful old age. Yawn. At least I understood what went on in that case – others lack any labeling whatsoever, with just some coils of rope and dark lanterns jumbled together under glass.
But never fear – the Orsay Museum has come (temporarily) to the rescue. A special exhibition, “Crime and Punishment,” just opened there, and it features a healthy chunk of objects borrowed from the Police Museum. They are displayed with signage which puts them in historical and artistic context, so that you actually know what you’re looking at.
So, if you need me, I’ll be in the Orsay Museum, telling Sherlock how hot I think he is when he smokes that pipe. Oh yeah.
March 21: Fondation Pierre Berge-Yves Saint Laurent (Pierre Berge and Yves Saint Laurent Foundation)
Dear Fashionistas;
I know you’re sick of people like me thinking that high fashion is an airheaded, substance-free heap of shiny ridiculousness. So, good for you, setting up an exhibition space to show the works of designers and clothing collections (although charging 7 euro to see two rooms of stuff is just going to solidify your reputation as the type of people who expect us to pay $300 for a pair of underwear).
But… you’re going to have to do a little better. For example, in your current exhibition, which shows off traditional Indian clothing, it sure would help me to take ou more seriously if you included any information about, oh, say, the dates of the clothes, what regions they came from, who owned/ wore them, who made them, etc.
Good job with the spooky rotating manikins, though! Very shiny.
xx, A Paris Museum a Day
March 19: Musée de la Publicité (Museum of Public Relations)
Yes, ads get their very own museum in Paris. Unsurprisingly, it’s sleek, shiny, and (judging by the current exhibition) heavy on the visuals, light on the intellectual/historical analysis. There’s no permanent collections; instead, the whole space (about 10 rooms) is devoted to special exhibitions. The current one is on public service ads – posters of famine victims, digital projections of commercials about domestic violence, employment discrimination, drunk driving, etc. The poor guards are huddled in the hallway, trying to avoid hearing the looped audio for the five thousandth time.
There are English translations of the signage, but unless you understand the French of the ads themselves, it’s probably a frustrating visit. The ads themselves are interesting (admittedly, I’m someone who watches the Superbowl for the commercials), and sometimes revealing of French culture. For example, there’s been a government-sponsored public service campaign since the ‘50’s to encourage people not to drink between meals. Also, French “use condoms!” ads take a far different approach than their American cousins: one notable commercial I watched featured, thanks to the miracles of computer animation, a buxom naked woman crouching inside of a giant condom, riding around in a sea of swimming penises. Ummm… awkward.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
March 13: Musée National d’Histoire Naturelle: Ménagerie du Jardin des Plantes (National Natural History Museum: Zoo of the Plant Garden)
This small-ish zoo, part of the Natural History Museum, merits a solid “meh.” If you like zoos in general, you’ll like this zoo, but you might wonder why you’re spending your time in Paris on it. The animals seem happy enough, but there aren’t a whole lot of them. The only moment of zoo-keeper genius I saw was putting the tree sloths and the giant tortoises in the same enclosure, with a convenient bench in front of it for resting on while saying “so slow, so cute!” over and over again.
If you go, spend some time with the ostriches. Despite prominent signs saying “do not feed us,” hope springs eternal. The male followed me around the edges of the fence, scanning me and my pockets, and at one point enthusiastically consumed a pile of his own droppings in a “hint, hint” manner.
March 15: Centre Historique des Archives Nationales: Musée de l’Histoire de France (Historical Center of the National Archives: Museum of the History
I’m an extremely organized person, so there’s no way that I would have visited the National Archives shortly after the closure of the special exhibition I wanted to see. No way! The reason that I’m not going to describe that special exhibition is that, ummmm… it was so life-changingly awesome that I can’t even find words to describe it.
If you happen to visit when there’s not a special exhibition, there are a few rooms open to the public (no charge). These are 18th c. reception rooms, with carved wooden paneling and sculpted plaster and one Boucher painting. If your life is not complete without carved wooden paneling, check it out. If not, just east a sandwich in the courtyard – a lovely, symmetrical private lawn with nice benches.
March 15: Musée d’Art et d’Histoire du Judaïsme (Museum of the Art and History of Judaism)
One of my Jewish French friends says that there’s a general ignorance among her French acquaintances about Judaism’s religious traditions, history, and so on. Sort of like “Purim? Is that a brand of soap?”
Thus, the purpose of this museum is to educate the public. Sort of like “Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Judaism, But Were Afraid Would Be Too Boring to Ask About (And Guess What – You’re Right!)” Not that Judaism is boring, but seriously, if you have even the slightest exposure to Jewish culture (e.g., if you’ve been in New York City for more than ten minutes), most of the exhibitions will be painfully basic. Even more disappointingly, there is little focus on French Judaism in particular, with the exception of some medieval tombstones and a display on the Dreypus affair.
In short – go to the Holocaust Memorial instead.
March 15: Mémorial de la Shoah (Holocaust Memorial)
Wow. This place is amazing. In fact, my only complaint is that its name doesn’t do it justice – it’s a complex composed of several memorials, a research and documentation center, and a museum with space for both permanent and special exhibitions.
The permanent exhibition takes a wide view of the Holocaust, going from the position of Jews in pre-war French society to repatriation or emigration choices after the war. The emphasis is on information rather than heartstring-yanking. There’s a fantastic mix of text, objects, and video which combine general historical overviews and personal stories.
The current special exhibition is on the special units, comprised of film directors and technicians, who filmed the just-liberated camps. There are fascinating comparisons between these directors’ Hollywood movies and their choices on how to document what they say, as well as interesting meditations on the role these films played as evidence in the Nuremberg trials.
So: go.
March 14: Musée Nissim de Camondo (Nissim de Camondo Museum)
The de Camondo family, prominent 19th c. bankers, built this mansion and filled it with 18th c. French furniture and decorative art, then donated the whole shebang to the French state. It’s named after Nissim de Camondo, the donor’s son, who died fighting in WWI.
Almost all of the rooms are open, so if you want to see top-of-the-19th-c.-line kitchens and bathrooms, here’s your chance. And I guess you would be happy if you like 18th century decorative arts, by contrast to me, who starts to have fantasies of running amok with a crowbar when confronted with this much twee cabinetry. Also it’s 18th c. art screened through Victorian morals, so don’t expect much of the coy eroticism which makes the period bearable. (Ok, ok, there is one erotic engraving featuring an enema, but that’s obligatory for any 18th c. collection.)
The de Camodo family was Jewish, and about a decade after their donation to the French state, the state returned the favor by rounding up the remaining decedents of the donor and turning them over to the Germans. Their deaths are mentioned fairly casually in a small plaque, and made me so angry that I’ll go to Paris’ two Jewish history museums tomorrow.
March 14: Musée Cernuschi (Cernuschi Museum)
It’s not fair. Paris is totally hogging all of the culture. Does it really need not one but two Asian art museums? Well, it does: the Musée Guimet (which I visited back in January) and the Musée Cernuschi. Both are named after the 19th c. collectors who put together the nucleus of the collections (and, in Cernuschi’s case, donated his swank mansion to hold it). So, how do they compare?
- Mission: The Guimet is comprehensive, displaying many different types of objects from man different cultures. The Cernuschi is selective, featuring a carefully chosen few Chinese and Japanese objects.
- Acquisition policy: the Guimet is vintage, since almost all of the objects on display there were purchased in the 19th c. The Cernuschi is evolving, with most of the displayed works having been purchased in the 20th c. from the art market. If you’re worried about authenticity and looting, you know what that means….
- Visitors: The Guimet is filled with book club ladies. The Cernuschi seems to have a total of three visitors at any one time, at least one of which got lost on the way to the Louvre.
- Money: The Guimet has an admission charge, while the permanent collections of the Cernuschi are free, free, free!
And the winner is… wait, I still don’t know. Make up your own damn mind. Unless youre a cheapskate who only wants to see a little bit of Asian art before jogging in the Parc Morceau, in which case the Cernuschi is the museum for you.
March 14: Jeu de Paume (Tennis Court) (it’s an exhibition space in a former tennis court)
A small 19th c. building in the Tuilleries gardens, near the Louvre, with space for two medium-sized special exhibitions of modern or contemporary art. Painfully hip – for example, you leave your coat and bag in a transparent locker in the lobby, so that nobody misses a moment of your totebag from a Swedish book bindery. It’s like P.S. 1, for those of you who comprehend the world by comparing it to various locations in New York City (I’m raising my hand here, while my other hand holds my totebag from a Swedish book bindery). Anyway… go if you’re excited about the special exhibition – otherwise, eh.
March 5: Grand Palais
The Grand Palais, which functions mainly as a space for special events and exhibitions – currently, one about the English painter J.-M. Turner and his contemporaries – is also one of the main habitats for a fascinating French species, the Exhibitionist Retiree.
- Habitat: the Exhibitionist Retiree appears year-round in buildings dedicated to special exhibitions, such as the Grand Palais.
- Description: It is difficult to distinguish between the male and the female of the species, as they have identical coloring (white hair and beige coats) and dimensions (five feet tall). The easiest way to sex the Exhibitionist Retiree is to observe their behavior: females cluster in an inner ring around an exhibited painting, while their mates form a defensive outer ring. This herding pattern means that the painting in question is completely protected from the view of any outsiders. Any attempts to penetrate the circles will result in muttered insults or crushed ribcages (the Exhibitionist Retiree is fragile).
- Species Differentiation: The French Exhibitionist Retiree is different from the New York Exhibitionist Retiree, which is much rarer and also has a much shorter attention span. Thus, the New York Exhibitionist Retiree will show herding behavior only for paintings in the first few rooms of a special exhibition, leaving the other rooms visible, while the French Exhibitionist Retiree will not wander away from their posts so easily. Oh, no.
In short – I hate special exhibitions in Paris.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
March 9: Musée Bourdelle
Antoine Bourdelle was a sculptor, a pupil and then collaborator with Rodin. This museum – his studio plus modern extensions for displaying his work plus special exhibitions – provides you with plenty of opportunity to get to know his style, which is basically Rodin meets Art Deco.
The museum is OK, I guess. There’s a resident cat in the gardens, there are Bourdelle’s personal collections of “antiquities” to sharpen up your forgery-spotting skills, and the special exhibitions seem ambitious (the current one is on Isadora Duncan).
But… it’s hard for me to make an unbiased judgment, considering just how much I hate the style of Rodin and, by extension, Bourdelle.
I’m sorry – I know that’s like saying that I hate crepes and Leonardo da Vinci (or a Leonardo da Vinci made out of crepes). But Rodin and Bourdelle were uneasily negotiating between classical realism and modern abstraction, and ended up with realistic subject matter – “Look, I’m sculpting a woman!” – but made with thumbprinty, lumpy, semi-abstract surfaces – “Look, her nipple is just a big hunk of clay I stuck on there!” Ironically, I love this type of transitional style in paintings (see my ravings about Monet’s late style), but it makes me cry on the inside when it comes to sculpture. Also on the outside. Just a little. Only the cat saw…
Saturday, March 6, 2010
March 5: Musée National de la Marine (National Museum of the Sea)
If the City of Architecture and Patrimony is an example of a museum taking a somewhat boring subject matter and turning it into a fascinating visit, the National Museum of the Sea, just across the street, is an example of the opposite. Man’s relations with the sea are pretty freaking fantastic – pirates, warfare, exploration, colonialism, ocean liners, storms, and whales, all with a hornpipe soundtrack! But this museum turns all this into displays that make you want to gouge out your own eyes. Have any questions about the social context of the displayed objects? You’ll leave without any answers. Are you slightly confused about just what it is that we are fighting for in any of the innumerable paintings of sea battle scenes? Hang your uneducated head in shame! If you’re lucky, the label will tell you the name of the battle, but that’s it. Would you like to know the name of this type of sample rope? or the model number of this cutlass? or the exact number of trips Napoleon set foot in this boat? Then you’re in luck. Yep – another Rain Man museum, with endless discussion of trivial details instead of answering interesting questions. Sigh.
March 5: Cité de l'Architecture et du Patrimoine (City of Architecture and Patrimony)
I am not usually very compelled by architecture, and the most intense spatial analysis I perform is trying to answer the question “I wonder where they put the bathroom?” But the City of Architecture and Patrimony can change the mind of even the most architecture-adverse visitor with its carefully selected and well-signed collection of casts and models of characteristic (and weird) bits of French architecture from the middle ages to the present. Educational, visually compelling, and you get lovely views of the Eiffel Tower out of every window. Just go.
March 5: Cité de l'Architecture et du Patrimoine (City of Architecture and Patrimony)
I am not usually very compelled by architecture, and the most intense spatial analysis I perform is trying to answer the question “I wonder where they put the bathroom?” But the City of Architecture and Patrimony can change the mind of even the most architecture-adverse visitor with its carefully selected and well-signed collection of casts and models of characteristic (and weird) bits of French architecture from the middle ages to the present. Educational, visually compelling, and you get lovely views of the Eiffel Tower out of every window. Just go.
March 3: Cité des Sciences et de l'Industrie (City of Sciences and Industry)
You know how some types of places are alike, no matter where they are located? Like airports or cheap Chinese restaurants. Well, science museums are like that, too: the world over, they have the same exhibitions, the same crowds of screaming children and exhausted grandparents, the same IMAX theaters. Some science museums do a slightly better job at being educational or interesting, but Paris’ City of Sciences and Industry is not one of these (e.g., the only kid I saw who appeared to be actually engaged in an exhibition was, on closer inspection, just leaning on the exhibition and playing his Gameboy). No need to waste your time in France on it and its pervasive lukewarm hotdog smell.
March 3: Musée des Egouts de Paris (Museum of the Parisian Sewers)
Remember the old joke about the pessimistic little boy and the optimistic little boy? When the pessimistic little boy gets a pony for his birthday, he starts to cry and says “It’ll just shit everywhere!” And when the optimistic little boy is told that his birthday present is a huge pile of shit, he gleefully leaps in the pile and starts digging around, shouting “All this shit means that there’s got to be a pony in here somewhere!”
I am a museum optimist, happily digging through heaps of… whatever to find pony-equivalents. But today at the Sewer Museum, my optimism was tested to the limit. Here follows a record of my hopes and how they progressively shrank towards pessimism:
- Hope level 1: The Parisian sewer system must be really complex and interesting to deserve a whole museum! Reality: Waste water exits buildings via small sewer pipes which join up into medium sewer pipes which join up into large sewer tunnels – just like you would design with a crayon if you were five years old. The only complex part of the system are the waste water treatment plants, but their workings aren’t explained here. Different union and thus, theoretically, different museum.
- Hope level 2: Ok, so this museum is mostly about ways of cleaning out accumulated debris from the sewers. But hey - maybe that process is really cool – like, what it there’s a huge boat that sewer workers ride in the biggest tunnels, like sewer pirates, lords of the shit sea! Reality: Yeah, there is a huge boat, and, at my count, approximately two other interesting things in the entire museum. Not really enough, given the smell (for which, see below).
- Hope level 3: Well, fine. Even if the objects in the museum aren’t that cool, maybe the space itself is still awesome – after all, the galleries are in real, working sections of the Parisian sewer system! Reality: The smell. Oh, the smell. Try maintaining your interest in signage about developments in 18th century sewer technology while standing on a grate over a rushing river of waste water. Seriously. They threw some grating over 15-feet-wide sewer tunnels and called it an exhibition space. At last, someone more optimistic than me.
Actually, I didn’t think that the smell was that bad (optimism again – plus I grew up on a farm), but my friend was wrapping his scarf around his face and sprinted up the exit steps. So, in conclusion… I can’t decide whether this place is just terrible or if it’s so terrible that it’s worth a visit. Guess it depends on your odor tolerance…
February 28: Catacombes de Paris (Catacombs of Paris)
The City of Paris calls it a museum, so I went to give a big American “howdy!” to the bones of an estimated 6 million Parisians, moved here from overflowing city cemeteries in the 18th and 19th centuries. The itinerary is a 45 minute walk through deep-down underground tunnels, and includes both a tour through empty disused quarries and the catacomb, boney parts – which is a strange combination of the tedious and the bizarre, like going out to dinner with both Alan Greenspan and Marilyn Manson.
The catacombs are stuffed full of bones – so many that you’ll be thinking that 6 million is an underestimate. It’s not really gross, since these are old, dry bones, all stacked in neat OCD arrangements with considerable decorative use of skulls. Guards will point out the more creative assortments, such as a heart made out of skulls (WORST JOB EVER, by the way). The grossest part is the dampness, which results in death-water dripping down from the ceiling (keep your mouth closed).
And… that’s about it. Quarry, bonesbonesbones, quarry. Go and satisfy your inner Goth.
February 27: Musée du Thé (Museum of Tea)
Mariage Frères is one of the oldest tea companies in Paris. The upper floor of their shop in the Marais district features a little museum of tea. It’s a fairly non-fascinating collection of tea cups, caddies, chests, and scales. The real action is downstairs, where ridiculously attractive men in linen suits inquire about your deepest tea desires (e.g., “do you want to drink this tea in the morning or afternoon?”) and then gently shake giant canisters of tea in your face so that you can smell the amazingness. It’s like being in a porno version of a Joseph Conrad novel.
February 25: Château de Versailles
Just a little note to say that it will always start to rain when you get to the point of the gardens farthest away from the exit. That’s the magic of Versailles.
Partial List of Closed Museums
Just for those of you as obsessive as I am, here’s a partial (and evolving) list of museums which are currently closed for renovation or for non-specified, mysterious purposes:
Museum national d'histoire naturelle – Grandes serres (Jardin des Plantes greenhouses)
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