Tucked away in a corner of the 18th arrondissement, just steps from Sacré-Cœur and la Place du Tertre, lies one of Paris’ lesser-known gems, the Musée de Montmartre. This picturesque museum, built in the 17th century, is surrounded by gardens that begin charming visitors before they ever step indoors. Such…
I’ve covered stories about the Eiffel Tower on this site perhaps more than any other topic. This week I thought I’d serve up depictions of the famous monument by some of France’s renowned painters and illustrators. To liven things up, I thought I’d offer readers a challenge. Below, I’ve listed…
Last week, I wrote about the importance of art during times of oppression, focusing on how art has the power to expose society’s flaws and portray a better world. However, art is also a source of pleasure-laden escape. I recently discovered a French textile artist, Sandrine Torredemer, whose work provides…
Until reading Barbara Kingsolver’s fictional novel La Lacuna, I would never have envisioned Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky, French surrealist author André Breton, and Mexican muralist and painter Diego Rivera as part of the same squad. Their commitment to Marxism drew these three extraordinary men together and, for a brief period,…
I clearly remember my first exposure to Edgar Degas’ wax sculptures of ballerinas. As a high school graduation gift, my parents sent me on a student trip to France. At 18, I’d heard of the word Impressionism and, being an avid student of dance, I’d seen some of Degas’ behind-the-scenes…
December being a month for merrymaking, I thought it was a good time to introduce the great printmaker and caricaturist, Honoré Daumier, to my blog. I look at his work as an early precursor to comic strips like The Lighter Side of…, by Dave Berg of Mad Magazine. As you’ll…
This week I’ve been looking for something to celebrate and a particular milestone related to this blog stands out. Last Friday’s post was my 200th, a bicentenary of sorts. You may have wondered (as I have) why I maintain this random assortment of loosely coupled brain dumps. The answer isn’t…
While reading Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast last year, I began to seriously ponder the amount of time the Internet sucks from my life. Learning about this great American author’s early days as a starving artist in Paris, I was struck by the simplicity of his existence. With a bare minimum…
