All I wanted from my trip to Paris
All I wanted from my trip to Paris, other than the chance to play, was to sit in a cafe by the Seine, look out at beautiful old buildings, and drink cappuccino.
In the past I’ve come to see the art in the museums and galleries, the clothes in the shops, the women everywhere.
Now I just want to walk down the streets of a place where, over the course of a hundred years, people cared so much about beauty they created a whole city as a work of art.
Photographs can’t reproduce it. A movie can’t capture the feeling of what it’s like to be here, surrounded on all sides by these bewitching buildings. It’s an experience of being fully immersed, the perfection of each interlocking piece of the artwork shifting in perspective as you move through it.
It’s beyond architecture. To me, the city itself is my favorite form of art, even better than nature. We expect exquisite things from nature. But to get such all-encompassing beauty from humans — the same beasts that wear themselves out hating and killing each other — is a surprise and inspiration.
The old state buildings are lovely in their proportions, sumptuous and grand without being oppressive. And even in its broken condition (or perhaps because of it), Notre Dame draws a tear and a mental gasp at the level of artistry in its ornamentation.
But my favorites are the apartment buildings. Block after block, neighborhood after neighborhood, the ravishing six story Haussmanns stand with their graceful union of form and function, decorating the world with their presence.
The French perfected the apartment building 150 years ago. I wonder if they expected the rest of the world to simply acknowledge their mastery and adopt their model.
I can picture a contemporary developer saying it would cost too much to build in that style now. But how much does it cost us to live with ugliness every day?
Paris, darling, I wish I could stay here forever…
See you next time.
