Midnight in Paris (Minuit à Paris)

I loved the concept of this film. If I had a time machine, I would perhaps go straight to the Belle Epoque or Pre-War Paris. This time and (clearly) this place fascinate me. However, the execution of this film was far from credible. Owen Wilson, bless him, is a very one dimensional actor. Don't get me wrong, I think he has made some funny movies. But, each movie he plays the same character, facial expressions, voice tone, etc. So, putting him next to Hemmingway and Gertrude Sten was ridiculous, more ridiculous than I think Woody Allen was intending. The contrast was too jarring. The audience doesn't know when to laugh and when to take the movie seriously. I wanted to believe the environment, but the actors didn't mesh well and the story line was far too abrupt. 

The movie also promoted some not-so-subtle undertones glorifying adultery. Allen inculdes a superfluous scene, the sole purpose of which is to explain infidelity as "more evolved," as Wilson's character phrases it. Deep, Woody. Deep. This is followed by a scene in which Wilson's character attepts to steal his fiancé's pearl earrings to present to his 20th century lover. His fiancée (McAdams), malcontent and controlling, is sleeping around with an old friend she saw in Paris. She is continually portrayed as the antagonist, an anti-muse for Wilson's character. So, Woody is attempting to encourage the audience to condone theft? Good wholesome messages. 

I also felt that Rachel McAdams was placed in a immature role. There's not much she could have done with that character. Marion Cotillard had a fascinating personage, but the choppy plot line gave very little room for any character development for the roles of either of these actresses. 

Though I was disappointed with the execution and the political and moral agenda of the film, I found the idea of it somewhat fascinating. I enjoyed seeing the places I've come to know and love, and seeing Allen attempt to portray old Paris. There were beautiful aspects of this movie, but it was, à mon avis, a let-down.      

Normandy

Our first weekend here, ISA took us on our first group trip to Normandy. We left from Port d'Orleans at 8:00 am and rode the bus about 3 hours to Caen. There we saw the WWII museum. The museum itself was neat, but I've seen better ones. The one we visited at St. Mere Eglise last year had a lot more to see. This museum was more fact-focused. At the beginning, though, they showed a really great short film. It was footage of D-day preparations and operations. On one side of the screen they showed allies, and on the other, Germans. It was very well done. Worth the trip. We ate there, then headed to the beaches. 

We saw Omaha first. They didn't take us through the exhibit. We just explored the American Cemetery and the beach. Last year we didn't get to walk down to the beach, because it's a good 15 minute walk. The cemetery had French and American flags on every grave in honor of Memorial Day and the D-Day anniversary. There were also chairs set up along the memorial. The day was rather overcast and windy, which I guess is fitting for commemorating D-Day. After walking around the cemetery, Rachael and I took the path down to the beach, thankfully as the majority of our group was coming up. Less crowded. 

We then went to Pont du Hoc and saw exactly the same stuff as last year. However, they have finished the restoration of the cliffside, so we were able to get closer to the area where the Rangers climbed. I tried to restrain my inner WWII history geek to spare my friends' ears. I'm not sure many share the same enthusiasm. The family Normandy trip was definitely much more informative than this one with ISA. With the big group, we were kind of pressed for time, but it was great to go back all the same.

After visiting the beaches, ISA took us to an apple orchard for a cider tasting. They gave offered apple juice and hard cider which were delicious. I didn't care very much for the liquors, though. We also got Normandy cookies to snack on. Then we drove to Brittany for the night.  

Before our French class started, Lisa, Rachael and I tried to finish as much sight seeing as possible. We spent the last couple days of freedom roaming around Paris, getting café and pastries and seeing the sights. One thing to note, the first friday, the three of us went to the Catacombs. The ISA sponsored visit was on the day we wanted to leave for our free weekend. They were really neat! Very wet down there, but very interesting. It's a grave site where bones from church-yard cemeteries were interred to economize space and improve sanitation. Kinda erie, and a bit claustrophobic at times, but we enjoyed the visit. 

That night we met up with Vlad and Sean to eat a nicer dinner at Chez Clément. It's a bit touristy, but the food was delicious. We got in around midnight and I went straight to bed.     

Photography

This has been exactly what I wanted out of a photography class. No one expected me to know what I was doing at the get-go, and the grading is based on improvement. We have class 3 days a week from 2-5pm, and our professor splits the time between studying the history of Paris photography, critiquing our work, and dragging us around his favorite places in Paris to shoot. It's marvelous. 

The early photographs of Paris are my favorite. The works of Atget and Kertesz beautifully document that early 20th century Paris which fascinates me: the world of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Stein. I would love nothing more than to experience the "moveable feast" that those celebrated expats knew so well. The old Paris is still alive, but sometimes it's difficult to search out. My professor tries to channel my romantic sentiments for the past into modern times. My impressions of the past are, of course, inaccurate and grossly exaggerated. Life in the early 1900's was, of course, as quotidien for them as the woman with the neon fanny pack is for us, right? Though delusions they maybe, I still try to portray my dreams of old Paris in many of my 2011 photographs.   

When it comes to shooting, our teacher lets us do whatever we please. He'll take us to an area of the city, perhaps give us instructions on some technique to try, then let us loose for a couple hours. Our first day in the city, he took us to an area where pre-Haussmann Paris is still intact, and told us to wander. Our troop of girls set off in different directions, but a bunch of us started out taking pictures of the fruit in the market. As collateral for swarming their stand with SLR cameras, I bought some cherries. Our group, including my professor, enjoyed some before we fragmented further into the windy medieval streets. I wandered into a park beside a church, taking pictures of flowers and such. I passed a homeless woman sitting on a bench. I decided to ask her permission to take a picture. So, I did, explaining that I was a photography student. She nodded and looked at me just as you see in the picture. She had no misgivings and no pretenses. Her face conveyed pride and honesty, but her eyes held enough stoic tristesse to fill a Russian novel. I took only one pictures, for which I was chastised later. Our professor always says you should take as many shots as you can, while your subject is willing. I took the one I wanted though. I didn't want to inpose in any way. I told her thank you and moved along. It occurred to me a minute later that I had cherries and she was probably hungry. So, I returned to give them to her. After thanking me, she told me very earnestly that she was from Romania. We had been speaking French, and she found it very important to tell me where she was really from. She offered me as small piece of her story. Every time I look at her picture, I wish I knew more. 

These are the experiences of Paris that I cherish. The tourist attractions are neat, to be sure. Notre Dame, Montmartre, Eiffel Tower, etc. all have their merits. But I am thankful that my photography class pushes us out of the American comfort zone, seeing Paris in a way we never would have on our own. 

At the beginning of every class, Claudio encourages us to "meet someone new."








Here are the other photos I presented at our first critique: 

The upper story of Shakespeare and Company. Notre Dame overexposed in the background.

Seagull flying over the dock in St. Malo

St. Malo at Dawn.

St. Malo

St. Malo 

Rue Mouffetard 

Temple du Marais

This morning I attended Temple du Marais: a reformed church in Paris. It's held in a beautiful building built in the 17th century. The service was in French. I understood most of it, but not all of the sermon. The congregation was very small because of the bank holiday this week, and the sanctuary is not very large. There were maybe 50 people there. The music and liturgy were beautiful. The British couple who welcomed me invited me to the common meal following the service. There I met women from North Carolina, Russa, and Morocco. There isn't a dominant ethnicity in the church. The congregation is from everywhere. It offers 3 services in French, 1 in Japanese, and 1 in Arabic: a great picture of the Kingdom of God at work in a city full of churches, but rather averse to the gospel.

 It was a wonderful experience. I'm very sad this is the only Sunday I'll be in town. 

Just know, if you ever go to Paris, I have a great church to recommend.