Remembering the November 2015 Terrorist Attacks in Paris

The conference center at La Villette hosting the Airbnb Open.

An article in the New York Times reminded me that today, November 13, is the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the Bataclan nightclub in Paris, France. This is, of course, a significant event, but particularly for us because we were there.

No, not at the Bataclan. We were in Paris for the Airbnb Open, a convention organized for Airbnb Super Hosts (those who had consistently excellent ratings from their guests). For several years we had been renting out a bedroom in our house in Los Osos on Airbnb. We are quite thrilled to receive the invitation, although we did have to pay our own expenses.

Still, it was a joy to be in Paris in the fall. Paula had suggested that we stay for a few weeks after the convention to see what Paris was like in the pre-Christmas season. We booked an apartment for five weeks, and settled into it a few days before the conference.

The convention was interesting, if not earth shaking. At the time Airbnb was focusing on how hosts could create an experience for their guests that went beyond a simple place to stay.  In the last session of the conference, on Friday the 13th, we were presented with a view of hosting that emphasized going beyond lodging to building a welcoming experience for the guests, creating connections with our homes and our hearts. We were shown a proposed commercial—which I don't think was ever made public—featuring a child wandering in a home with a voiceover about letting people sleep in your bed and dream your dreams. It was very touching, very human, very open hearted.

Filled with this joy of humanity, we arrived at our apartment in Paris about 10 PM or so.  And for no particular reason, Paula said let's turn on the TV!

We watched in horror as the TV host explained, over and over, about the attacks at the Stade de France football stadium (fortunately not successful), at the Bataclan nightclub, and at various restaurants and shops in Paris. We were horrified! I checked the map and discovered it had happened about a mile from where we were staying. About 2 AM, after watching the same news over and over, we went to bed fully on board with the suggestion from the authorities that we lock our door and stay inside.

The next day, the 14th, was Paula's birthday, normally a joyous occasion. But that day the weather matched our spirits: heavy and gray. We stayed in and washed clothes, festooning them around the apartment to dry. I went out briefly to get some flowers, and found the city very sad with few people out.

Scene of one of the many attacks.
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

The next day, Sunday the 15th, was bright and sunny. The crisis was over and we, like  everybody else in Paris, went out to enjoy the sun and see what was up.

Candles and flowers and signs of support. (Paris, 15 November 2015)

While we were all glad to be out, the mood was not festive. We came upon one crowd around a restaurant that had been attacked. I remember seeing a chair next to the door. Bullet holes in the glass. Sawdust on the ground to soak up the blood. Like a movie set. I could not get my head around the idea of the drive-by shooting that had happened here.

People brought flowers. People brought candles. The feeling was heavy, intense, somber. We moved on, refreshed by the clear sunlight. 

Laying flowers in grief.
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

That afternoon we visited the Place de la République, site of demonstrations after the Charle Hebdo attacks the previous January. (Twelve people were killed at the headquarters of the weekly magazine Charle Hebdo.) There were still some posters commemorating that attack, but now the base of the statue  was covered with flowers, candles, and, most significantly, signs of support.

Place de la République in Paris, with the statue of Marianne, symbol of the principles of the Republic.

At the base of the statue, more flowers and candles and signes of support and defiance.
(Je suis Paris—I am Paris—is a declaration of solidarity.)
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

People around the statue, reading—and leaving—notes of support.
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

Overall it was not a pleasant experience, but certainly memorable. So this posting is in memory of that day, and in memorial to those who died or were traumatized for life by this pointless attack.

And, if you're interested, here's the blog we wrote when it happened, 10 years ago:

click here for that older blog 

The motto of the city of Paris. It translates to something like "tossed but not sunk," referring to boats on the Seine. 
Amd, of course, the city of Paris itself!

Aix-en-Povence & Paul Cézanne

 

The traditional town fountain, in Aix-en-Provence.

Our last blog, here,  continued our trip to Corsica through Italy. This blog follows us to the town of Aix-en-Provence back in France, and a special exhibition about the painter Paul Cézanne.

The drive from Ventimiglia, on the French border, to Aix-en-Provence took only a couple of hours. As the name suggests,  Aix is located in that special region in south-east France know as Provence.  In fact, it is, at least by reputation, the quintessential Provençal city.

Our interest, though, went beyond sightseeing: Aix was the home of the noted painter Paul Cézanne, and the city was hosting a special exhibition of his life and work.

In addition to the town itself, there were three parts to the exhibition that interested us: the Jas-de-Bouffan, Cézanne's home; the studio he built a short distance outside town; and the museum that had gathered his paintings from around the world for this special showing.

Aix-en-Provence

We'd heard of Aix for, well, forever. After all, it's considered the "quintessential Provençal city," to quote our favorite travel author. But we just never got around to visiting it.

Our first stop in any French town is the tourist office, to get oriented and see what's up. Right in front of the office in Aix is this statue of Cézanne, off with his painting gear for a plein air session.

Now that we finally got there we found Aix to be elegant, clean, sophisticated, picturesque; and crowded! Granted, there was this special exhibition, but it was September, traditionally after the summer tourist surge. (Although tourism seems to have expanded into an all-year affair!) Every public square seemed filled, every street thronged. 

The "back side" of the clock tower, Tour d'Horloge. 

Place Richelme, just down the street from the clock tower.

The city is quite charming, with each square seeming to lead to another, equally charming, square. Rick Steves hit it right when he wrote "...its old center offers a postcard-worthy square around every corner." Indeed!

Our favorite patron saint, St. Roch. The train station in Montpellier is named after him! (Also, a church.) We saw him on Corsica, and now again in Aix!

An elegant building on Cours Mirabeau, the "Champs-Elysées of Provence," where the rich and well known of the 17th and 18th centuries would come to see and be seen.
The sign over the door says "Tribunal de Commerce" but who knows what purpose this building serves now!

Dinner time at cafes in the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville.

Eglise Saint-Jean-de-Malte, a 13th century Gothic church right near the Musée Granet.

Bastide du Jas-de-Bouffan

Paul Cézanne's father was a hat maker, and later a banker. His wealth enabled him to acquire a bastide, or county home, just outside of Aix. Paul grew up here, and later inherited the property when his father died. It was given the name Jas-de-Bouffan, perhaps a reference to a sheepfold (jas, in the Provencal language) owned by a Monsieur Bouffan which previously occupied the site.

A traditional (and so very French!) allée leading up to the house.

Our visit started with a walk through the grounds, where easels with reproductions of Cézanne's paintings were set up on the site where they had been painted. It was interesting to compare Cézanne's view—his painting—with the real thing today. Once inside we were lead through the various rooms, with a guide explaining the significance.

View of the main house, with a reproduction of Cézanne's paining.

Another painting (reproduction), of the pool.

Paul had apparently shown some aptitude at an early age, as he decorated the walls of the salon (living room) with his paintings of landscapes and portraits. These works were never destroyed; later, when he'd become famous (mid-20th century) they were carefully removed from the walls and preserved. This was explained to us while we were in the salon of Jas-de-Bouffan, with the paintings projected onto the walls. It was a real "you are there" moment!

Inside the house, in the salon, our guide talks about Paul's early paintings on the walls of the house (here reproduced by projecting the images on the now-bare walls).

Two more of Paul's early works from the walls of the house.

We also saw his bedroom and the kitchen, where the staff prepared meals from the food grown on the  farm next door, also owned by the family (and which is also still there, although no longer a working farm!).

The kitchen food preparation area: that's for warming food, the cooking oven was outside (much better on a hot summer's day!).

Kitchen table, and the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

Kitchen window, and a real French country sink.

And, finally, the studio his father had built for him on the top floor, with large north-facing windows for illumination.

Tall, north-facing windows in Cézanne's studio at Jas-de-Bouffan.

That's the farm back there that provided much of the family's food (and the peasants Cézanne often used as models). The buildings are still kept up but it is no longer a farm.)

      

The Studio

After the death of his father Cézanne sold the bastide and built a studio north of town. The studio has been preserved, and was part of the exhibition. So, of course, we had to visit it.

A photograph of Paul Cézanne in front of one of his paintings. (1904)

The studio and its surrounding property was just a bit outside the city—all uphill! Halfway there we began to regret our decision to walk to it.

But we made it, and were glad we did. The studio preserves many of the items found in his still life works, including a small statue and a vase.

It sat empty for long after his death, but this is how the studio probably looked when he was using it.

The statue of the boy, the blue ginger pot, and the green vase are all elements seen in various of Cézanne's still lifes.

He only had this studio for six years before his death (in 1906), but did some of his most significant works here.

The large, north-facing window in the studio lets in plenty of light.

Models of human skulls, similar to the ones Cézanne used in some of his works.

During his lifetime Paul Cézanne was not well appreciated in Aix. In fact, the director of the local museum, Musèe Granet, categorically stated that no work by Paul Cézanne would ever be displayed. Ironically enough, this was the museum that hosted the recent Cèzanne exhibition!

Immediately after his death no one really knew what to do with the studio. It was closed up and left untouched. Eventually an American donor  bought and preserved it.

Paul Cézanne leaving his studio.
The caption reads:
PAUL CÉZANNE DEVANT L'ATLIER DES LAUVES 1906

The Museum

The final part of our exploration of Paul Cézanne and his works was a visit to the Musèe Granet, which had borrowed Cézanne's works from other museums and private collectors around the world. The collection, in roughly chronological order, gave a good overview of his works and his development as an artist.

Jas-de-Bouffon, the family home in Aix. Looks just like that now! Oh, except for the landscaping.

"Man in a Blue Smock"
Cézanne often used the peasants who lived on the farm next door as models.

La Table de cuisine; aka "Still Life with Fruit Basket"
Painted in the studio just outside Aix. Some of the items in this painting are still in the studio. (But, ah, not the fruit!)

Cézanne's contemporaries were the impressionists, with whom he studied in Paris. But impressionism was of little interest to Cézanne. His still life paintings, with the objects looking a bit unsettled and almost tumbling off the canvas, are seen as an introduction to cubism. So, Cézanne is considered one of the first "modern" painters.

The skulls. Similar to the ones we saw in the studio.

Not part of the museum exhibit! A poster for a film on Cézanne.
He's depicted in plein air, painting one of his favorite subjects, Mont Sainte-Victoire. Visible from outside his studio, it figured in some 80 of his paintings.

We enjoyed the city of Aix-en-Provence, and will no doubt come back again. We also learned quite a bit about Paul Cézanne, both as an artist and personally. Overall,it was a very satisfying visit!

Whew! That's the end of our trip through Corsica, Italy, and Aix. We're settling in to Montpellier for the fall; our next planned excursion will be to Rome in mid-December, and Seville for Christmas. Although our next blog may well be on architecture in Montpellier; we're learning some fascinating things about the growth of the city.

"The Card Players," one of Cézanne's most famous works. It's the final in a series of paintings of two men playing cards.
The models for the men were workers from the surrounding area. The man with the pipe has been identified as the gardener at Jas-de-Buffon.

 

Piazzas, porticos, and pasta: we're in Northern Italy!

Lucca's Chiesa dei Santi Giovanni e Reparata, the Church of Saint John and Reparata.

In our last blog (you can find it here) we left Corsica, after a week of beach-going and exploration, on the ferry to Livorno in Italy.

    Lucca

Paula had planned this trip very cleverly. She realized that once on Corsica we were very close to Italy. And, since we were almost there, why not continue? It was a short hop from Bastia on Corsica to Livorno in Italy. So we got the car to Italy mostly by ferry, with very little driving!

The somewhat famous Torre Guinigi. 
There are lots of towers in Italian towns; in centuries past, it was a sign of great wealth.

Under our original plan the ferry would arrive in Livorno in the afternoon, too late to do much else. So, we'd spend the night, then move on to Ravenna in the morning. But the revised schedule left us in Livorno around noon with no particular reason to hang around: the city seemed seemed industrial, a port town; not very interesting. 

The justifiably famous Duomo di San Martino (remember, in Italia duomo means cathedral, not dome!)

Close up of the also famous, finely-carved façade of the cathedral.

Lucca, though; now that was a town worth (re-)visiting! Initially we hadn't planned to stop there. Debra, who had her own plans for Italy, had already booked a couple of nights in Lucca, but with the extra time we had after the schedule change, we figured we'd spend a night there, too.

Entrance to the duomo. The stripped effect of the dark and light marble is strongly reminiscent of the church we saw on Corsica, the Èglise Saint-Michel de Murato (which, in fact, was built by craftsmen from Pisa, just down the road from Lucca).

This was our, er, third trip to Lucca, and we knew there would be no problem filling an afternoon and evening wandering through the narrow streets among the architecturally-striking churches and public buildings.

The Torre Guinigi, nighttime version.

We emerged from a wonderful dinner at a small restaurant into a light rain, which ended up not impeding our evening stroll in the least. 

Love these doorways in Lucca!

After our nighttime passeggiata we returned to our rooms at the converted monastery (chosen because they offered a place to park the car!). The next morning we had a very satisfying breakfast, loaded the car, bade farewell to Debra, and set course for Ravenna.

Seen in the streets of Lucca, the family name on a flooring van: a reminder that our grandfather came from this area, where the name Menconi is common, over 100 years ago. 

On our several previous trips to Italy we'd found the turnpikes (like freeways, but with tolls) a bit claustrophobic.

 

Oh, the roads are great, smooth and wide and well-designed for high-speed travel. But there's no shoulders! (Every kilometer or so there is a wide spot for emergency stops.) Unlike France and Spain, both sides of the Italian roadway are crowded by guardrails, And, in places where trucks are likely (often!), the guardrails extend to above the roof of our car! It feels very hemmed in, unlike France where a generous shoulder opens to green fields and trees.

We left Tuscany, with its soft hills and valleys, olives, grapevines, and centuries-old cypresses, and entered Emilia-Romagna and the Po Valley. Here the land is flat and low, with gently wooded slopes; excellent farmland, and home to some of Italy's most famous foods: ham from Parma, excellent aged  vinegar from Modena, and, er, what is Bologna known for?

        Ravenna 

I was not overly impressed by Ravenna, as a city. The big attractions, certainly compelling, are the 6th-century churches with byzantine mosaics. Oh, and Dante's tomb. Dante Alighieri, author of the Divine Comedy and other notable works, spent his last years in Ravenna. 

Ravenna: The Basilica di San Vitale, built in the 6th century. 

Inside the basilica. An amazing interior!

Interior of the Basilica, from another perspective.

Very fine 6th-century mosaics inside the Basilica.

Ah, Dante. Very popular in Ravenna! This decade was the 700th anniversary of his death (14 September 1321, in Ravenna), and his image was all over the city.

A small portrait of Dante seen on the wall of a public building, taken from a posthumous painting by Sandro Botticelli from 1495; in mosaic, of course!
(Thanks to the extensive and extraordinary Byzantine mosaics, Ravenna has become a center for mosaic schools and artists.)

Dante's tomb, built in 1781. There was some controversy over his place of rest: he was born in Florence, so that city wanted his remains, but Ravenna kept the bones and eventually built him this tomb.

For his 700th birthday a local museum, the Biblioteca Casa di Oriani, hosted a collection of modern interpretations of Dante.
(Hey, don't ask me, I just took the photos!)

Ah, but we're not done with the mosaics! These are from the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia (5th C.)

Apparently it was built for an empress, although details have been lost. The mosaics themselves have been well preserved, and are full of Christian symbology. 

No, we're not burning books, this is Saint Lawrence who was martyred by fire; the cabinet on the other side of the flaming gridiron contains the Gospels, symbols of faith. The window is of translucent alabaster.

The ceiling of the vault, a starry firmament. Saints Peter and Paul frame the alabaster window.

    Bologna

We spent only a single night in Bologna. (And, no, baloney does not come from this city, although the region does produce quite a number of sausage-like prepared meat products. Oh, and tagliatelle; let's not forget the tagliatelle!) One of Bologna's claims to fame is the world's oldest university, established in 1088. (That beats out Montpellier's oldest medical school, which only got started in 1220.)

A sun-lit portico on the Via Santo Stefano.

The other big attraction, perhaps more significant for us visitors, is the porticos. There are literally miles of these arcades in the city, some with very decorative tile work. Need to pop over to a shop in the pouring rain? No problem, you can plot out a course that stays mostly under cover the whole way! (On this visit, though, I found a downside: noise. Traffic noise is enhanced in those porticos!)

Further along the Via Santo Stefano, buildings with porticos.

On this trip we only had one night in town, so our time was short. We were entranced by tightrope walkers high over the city. Apparently a week-long conference was just ending, and the aerial display was part of the closing ceremony.

An aerialist above the Piazza Maggiore; his tightrope is anchored to the Torre dell'Orologio (the clock tower, but it sounds better in Italian).

It seems Italy as a whole, and Bologna in particular, has become a mecca for "food tourism."
A recent article in the NYTimes referred to scenes like this—pasta making in a restaurant window—as "zoo-like simulations of Italian grandmothers." (And here I thought it was charming...)

Nighttime view of Basilica Santuario Santo Stefano (also, conveniently enough, on Via Santo Stefano).

A spiral fluted column in yet another portico.

    Padua

This was not our first time in Padua, quite. Some years ago we parked the car here so we could take the train into Venice (parking is much cheaper here than on the outskirts of "La Serenissima"). On that first trip we visited the Scrovegni Chapel with Giotto's magnificent fresco cycle, but saw nothing of the city itself.

Since this was our fourth Italian city in a week, comparisons were inevitable. Architecture. Arches. Carved stone doorways. Churches. Frescos.  And art. An accumulation of art spanning 2000 years or more (although, admittedly, the older stuff is rare.)

And it's easy to say it begins to run together... because it does! Padua has porticos, it has arches. And it has frescos...

One night, walking back to our lodgings, we came upon an open doorway that lead to a cloister with some pretty nice frescos...

They were a bit hard to see, being faded with age; plus, it was dark!

But it was a thrill to find them!

Palazzo della Ragione

The Palazzo della Ragione is a remarkable building. Finished in 1219, it is the largest medieval hall still in existence. Today the lower level houses shops and market stalls, much as it did in the 13th century. The upper floors were the town hall and the palace of justice. Today, however, the upper level is a huge museum,  80x27 meters (260x89 feet).

The portico surrounding the upper levels of the Palazzo della Ragione.

The walls are decorated with frescoes depicting the trades of working people, ordinary life, and character traits, all related to signs of the zodiac. Originally created and painted by Giotto, a fire in 1420 required them to be re-done. 

Inside the Palazzo della Ragione showing some of the 500 frescos that decorate the interior.
The "overturned boat" roof is 27 m (89 ft) high.

Another view of the frescos.

Detail of one of the frescos.

We spent an extended time in this room, sitting and contemplating its enormity. We also moved about examining the walls, working to identify the images and how they related to the associated zodiac sign. Or, for that matter, identifying the zodiac sign! (In that, at least, we were somewhat successful.)

Also on display at the Palazzo della Ragione was this massive wooden horse (no, not from Troy), apparently made in 1466.

It was a stunning experience! I'm very glad Paula wanted to go in; from the outside there is no hint what the interior walls hold. And it's not the kind of thing we are normally drawn to. But, totally worth while!

The Piazza delle Fruti market place, just adjacent to the Palazzo della Ragione . For 800 years farmers and vendors have been coming to this square and setting up their stalls. That's impressive!

And now, finally, one of the top sights of Padua, the Basilica di Sant'Antonio da Padova. The spires rise over the surrounding buildings, and we saw them every time we left our lodgings, but did not actually get to the building for several days. It's impressive, particularly at night.

The Basilica of Saint Anthony of Padua, the second-largest church in Padua, finished in 1310.

The main altar of the basilica. There are numerous chapels inside, as well.

We first saw the basilica at night. It's quite imposing!

Three nights, that's all we had in Padua, then it was time to move on. We were up early in the morning and on the road headed west, all the way to Ventimiglia, on the border with France. That last third was nasty: a twisty road through the coastal mountains,  moving from bridge to tunnel, tunnel to bridge, and then, oh, another tunnel!

On our way home after our last night in Padua I was just a touch hungry. 
We popped into this snack bar and had a wonderful tomato and mozzarella panini...

We were glad to finally arrive in Ventimiglia and plunk down in our rental for the night (a very nice place on the side of a hill overlooking the Sea). After resting, we went into town to meet with our friend, Debra, who was rejoining us for the next leg.

In the morning we were up early again, and on the road (again!) for the 2-1/2 hr drive to Aix-en-Provence and the special exhibition on the painter Paul Cezanne.

        But that's all for now. We'll talk abut Aix in our next blog...

Basilica di Sant'Antonio da Padova. Impressive at night!