Paris Journal II: Sous les toits de Paris

photograph by Hallie Cohen

 Triangulation is what neurotic/oedipal people tend to enact. Rectangulation is the essence of Beaux Arts classicism, the epitome of whose expression is the Jardin du Luxembourg. It you take a left off the entrance on the Rue de Vaugirard next to the Musee Luxembourg you will soon come to an oxidized bronze bust of Delacroix and below engraved in the pedestal “Les Admirators” flanked by two sylphs. You turn and stare down the long grid which might recall Alain Resnais’ L’Annee derniere a Marienbad (1961). The rectangles lead to an arbor of chestnut trees whose branches have been trimmed to accentuate the lines, with nature mimicking the order of architecture. But along the way on a sunlight October afternoon are concentric circles of purple and green coleus and pink geraniums. The colorful flowers are surrounded by another circle of equally colorfully attired strollers and runners. The landscaping is fixed; it’s the people who are the wild card. In the distance the roofs of the Latin Quarter recall another movie Rene Clair’s Sous les toits de Paris (1930) But what it’s really like is the illustrations from Ludwig Bemelmans' Madeline, a picture book come to life. Walking through the gardens is the experience of an idyllic remembered past in the present. On the other side of the garden facing the Lycee Montaigne on a street named after another classicist figure, the positivist philosopher August Comte, a woman sits under the russet leaves of a tree, reading in front of a bust of Baudelaire. Walking towards the Rue d'Assas you pass an espaliered apple orchard where at least a hundred species are each carefully named and wrapped for protection. Maintenance is hardly the word to describe the love that goes into the upkeep of this immortal landmark.

Delacroix, David and Revolutionary France

Here’s a curatorial quote about Ingres’ Studies for the Turkish Bath (1859-60),one of the collection of drawings hanging in show Delacroix, David and Revolutionary France currently on display at the Morgan. “In this large preparatory sheet, the eroticism of the Turkish Bath is anticipated in a series of lushly rendered figure studies drawn from life. The sheet seems to summarize Ingres’ ongoing fascination with the female body and reveals a more vigorous richly modeled approach than is typical of his drawings.” The austerity of the portraits of Madame and Monsieur Louis-Francois Bertin, publisher of the Journal de debats and a major cultural figure during the July monarchy of Louis-Philippe, testifies to the polarities of sensuality and severity within the character of Ingres. David Hockney once propounded the theory that Ingres used an optical device and the question with Ingres is always whether the lines are copied or found. Odalisque and Slave from l839, mounted in a separate exhibit of just Ingres drawings simultaneously on display at the Morgan, of course, poses another question entirely, how is it possible to produce a drawing that has the detail, depth and dimensionality of a painting? Two studies by Delacroix on the Death of Sardanapalus, one of his murders and the other of his spoils are brilliant exemplars of how the handmaiden to painting often exhibits a brilliance, modernity and freedom that, in the hands of a master draftsman, can outdo the painting itself. Gericault, Daumier are amongst the other artists whose works are on exhibited in the Delacroix, David show and it's an exhibit that's a testament to social as well as artistic revolution. Apparently Ingres said that the plaque above his studio should read Ecole de dessin.