Day 18: Student in the History of Art? me: "...YES!"

Welcome to the heat wave is what my warm bedroom told me in the morning. For context, the first few days I was here, this bedroom was quite cold, cold enough for me to wear a sweatshirt and sweatpants to bed and be totally comfortable.

The 7ème arrondissement was on the agenda which essentially meant exploring in my backyard. None of it would be too far from the apartment nor from Reid Hall either. Besides thinking about this as a way to minimize energy exertion, I was looking forward to what needed to be done today.

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I scooted myself over to le Musée d'Orsay in a matter of minutes only to arrive, feel the heat, and have a daunting line in direct sunlight ahead of me. I asked a man working there how long he estimated the wait to take in the line. He turns and tells me: "You have to get in line to figure out how long it takes." Well, ladies and gentlemen, I did just that. Arriving before any of the other members of my new group, I stood in line alone...making their lives easier and my life sweatier.

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Finally past security and into the air-conditioned heaven, I had to get my ticket. Walking up to the ticket booth, I whip out my Reid Hall ID card that very clearly states at the top that I am "une étudiante en histoire de l'art" i.e. a student studying the history of art... Am I really? The answer the lady got was yes, yes for sure. This meant a beautiful free entry (whoop whoop).

Part of our necessary exploration included the exposition entitled Le Modèle Noir. I would look it up to have more information. Our class discussed the art and the play between necessity and the spectacle.

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I found, deeper into the old train station, an architectural exhibit on l'Opéra Garnier, detailing with a model how the building would look if it were sliced open down the middle. Holy heck the intricacy of the architecture astounded me. How can someone think/know that all those little pieces are so necessary?

Moving upstairs after exploring the resonating work of the temporary exhibition entitled The Fear of Loving, Orsay through the eyes of Tracey Emin, an array of statues lay before me. Maneuvering my way through them, I take in all the different materials they are made out of. As of late, I have a new interest in sculpture and the skill it would take to execute.

Then I walked into a room in which I saw a few paintings by Van Gogh. I immediately thought of my papa and how much he loves his artist. I took some time, looking both for myself (because I too very much enjoy Van Gogh) and for my dad.

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The next stop was le Musée Rodin which unfortunately was not air-conditioned, but also happened to be a free entry. The gardens were massive and serene with spaces to appreciate the sculptures whilst laying down on a bed of bright green grass. There was a house, too, which held the rest of the works of art as a part of the museum. Room upon room of sculptures were spread out before me. I was impressed by the shear volume of work which I know is not all since LACMA has some Rodin as well. There was only one room for Camille Claudel, which makes me sad after learning her story. Her work was quite delicate and I most enjoyed her pieces that played with onyx and bronze.

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Looking at all these sculptures gives one an appreciation for the human form and body. It has inspired me to try out sculpting, just for the hell of it. I want to try and understand what it takes to bring that form to life.

The walk to Reid Hall was a rather hot one. Still spilling out buckets of sweat but with much happier feet. The AC ended up being so strong in the classroom that I even ended up feeling cold..

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After class, a classmate wanted to go to Château Rouge (area and metro stop) in the search for safou, a food she had when she lived in Cameroon. We (classmate, Anna, and I) asked many people and stumbled through several streets looking for this avocado-esq fruit (?). Eventually she asks a lady who points her finger down a street. We start walking, the lady then comes up and tells us to follow her. We follow a couple more feet until we are standing next to a car on a busy street. She hands our classmate a bag with the presumed food inside. The secrecy was undoubtedly strange and it kind of felt like a drug deal for a fruit, but the lady was nice and we went on our merry way.

On the short walk back through the metro station, we stopped to buy a kilo of cherries for 4€ which Anna and I demolished over the course of the evening.

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The long metro ride back was utterly packed with sweaty bodies. Maybe I take back what I said earlier about the human body as being interesting and something to sculpt...

Dinner was a vegetarian lasagna with an aromatic white wine topped off with a plethora of cherries and work for the rest of the night.