Paris, a working holiday
 

I'm planning a micro show in someone's gallery/coffeeshop in Paris during Paris Photo in November, and this week turned out to be the ideal opportunity to meet and discuss and so to Paris. Because it's my summer vacation, I decided to take a week, just to be able to loiter in Paris properly. D will meet me at the end of this week and then we'll have 4 days together until going back home.

Fortunately, Rotterdam - Paris is 2.5 hours by train for me, and to have so much "free" time is pure luxury. Seen all the sights, done all the things, so I didn't plan anything. I do have to work, which means photographing. I'm working on a B/W series, that's taking some form, and working on that series is my "secret asignment".

Arrived yesterday, the 29th at about 3PM. I decided on a hotel in the area between Gare du Nord and Gare de l'Est, for convenience and because I really love that area: Little India, not gentrifying, and in "transformation" as the Olympics are approaching and this area will be "revitalized" to a common International model. For now, posters are mobilizing residents to fight for their right to clean air.

Along R. Faubourg St. Denis, the area west of Bvd La Fayette is now markedly becoming more "acceptable" with cafes, bars and craft beer & burger places that take the place of mini markets. I walked around for a bit, also to get into the habit of shooting and also to visit old stand-bys, like Passage Brady. Renewed my Navigo, walked as far as La Chapelle on one side of the street, then walked back on the other side.

Had lovely dosa and a lime - mint cooler at Sravana Bhavaan, then called it a day. A hot evening and everywhere men around Paan sellers, socializing. Also saw someone sell pani puri, out on the pavement, so that's something to seek out today. One nice shot and a couple of runners-up/


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That is a lovely shot, menachem! Sounds like a lovely working holiday, and I hope you enjoy all of it!

I do have a question though -- do you need to get permission to take & publish photos of faces? I live in Germany, where it is a violation of privacy rights to take a recognizable photo of people. I'm asking for my next trip (though it has become a habit to just shoot around people).

Thanks!

s

As far as I know, going out on the public street forfeits your right to photographic privacy. However, public use of the photo (such as here) could cause the subject to request removal. Since there is not even a one in a million chance that the person will ever see this photograph, I don't think there is much of a risk, particularly since the photo is flattering.

Swandav, don't they have photobombing in Germany? There are so many millions of examples on the internet, I would have a hard time believing that none of them are German.

Lovely, Menachem.

I did a bit of the same this past winter in Morocco, though I cannot claim to have any photographic skill at all. It's all haphazard with me, and legal restrictions never crossed my mind, though they should have.
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Kerouac, of course it's possible. And I lived here and took photos for about 9 years before I knew of this rule...my guess is that the subjects just don't pursue it. Or that there is someone in the entourage to get the subject's permission. (But isn't it the bomber who is making an effort to get in the photograph, so that effort would constitute permission to use his/her image??) Anyway now that I know of this rule, I don't want to violate it -- I'm a guest not a citizen here. So I guess I can take photos in Paris without thinking of privacy.

Thanks!

s

swandav - you can always ask people's permission, after the fact for the photograph if you wish to publish or show it. You can get a standasrd consent form online and get them to read and sign it f you are at all worried.
The law does not cover people who are not the subject of a photograph but who just happen to be in it. Bombing implies consent.
It is the same in most countries, and I believe EU law now covers it in all EU countries.

In the case of Menachem's photo it would be deemed to be an artwork and permission would not be necessary.

Thanks hetismij2!

Let's get back to this stunning photo -- yes certainly art! Hope to see more photos!

s

Isn't it just bad manners to take close in pictures of people without their permission?

I never ask and I publish freely. I've never been in lawsuits either. France has similar portrait-legislation. My face is in many people's selfies: the people taking those never ask my permission either.

Depends. I photographed a couple of Deliveroo riders yesterday too, they were interested, and so I took some portraits and shared my instagram handle so they can grab them off there. I'm in many people's vacation snaps and videos, they never ask permission either. Think of the street photography images we now think are so iconic: all without permission. People had better worry about CCTV + face recognition.

Lots of bus travel across town today, to get to my gallery meeting and for a little excursion to the specialist bookshops on Rue des Écoles. l'Harmattan has always been a favorite of mine, for its many titles on the Arab world and Oceania. There are a few such bookshops in the area, for instance, one that specializes in Romanian literature, with a small lecture room attached. Briefly walked into Jardins de Luxembourg and was dismayed at the damage that the heat and drought have worked on the trees: leaves covering the paths as if it was late september, but it isn't even August.

I had a few errands to run before my meeting, so planned out a walk that would get me from R des Écoles to where I needed to be near MEP. I needed to buy a Chöd drum for a student, and before leaving, had thought that Trésors de Tibet might have one, and indeed they had. But it was a tourist quality drum and it was already warped from having been in the shop window so long. I played it, but the drum heads would never be tight. It had a beautiful brocade case though, and that is why tourists usually buy them. Looked at the thangkas but the Dorje Pagmo thangka they had on their site and that I had wanted to see and maybe buy was sold. Still, nice being there, and the owner is a gracious host always. Then on to the Marais and my meeting. Afterwards had lunch at Chez Hanna, one of the many Israeli-type restaurants on Rue des Rosiers. Humus ok, but not stellar, friendly service and great coffee.

I did a fair bit of wandering around but hadn't slowed down enough for the shooting to be any good. Fondation HCB on Rue des Archives has a show on HCB's first two photo travel journeys, one with a plate camera, one, after he bought the then hyper advanced Leica that would become his trademark. Didn't go in though, as I'm saving the shows I want to see (Sally Mann at Jeu de Paume and HCB) for tomorrow, wednesday. After lunch back to my Gare du Nord hotelroom for an online meeting (the only one this week, couldn't be helped).

I decided to take the bus to Anvers and do a circuitous walk around Montmartre. Tourism makes cities the same everywhere but it did speak to my interest in people who are outside their usual surroundings and then act a certain way. I sat for a while in the little park behind Sacré Coeur, then followed a longish, winding route down towards R des Martyrs. Not many people venture beyond Place du Tertre, weirdly, even though the streets leading away from it lead to wonderful, village-like streets that are much more evocative of "Bohemian Paris" than the sketch artists on Place du Tertre.

Eventually I ended up at Killiwatch to browse their excellent "espace vintage". There's an Episode vintage store nearby, but Killiwatch is the more thoughtfully curated of the two. Prices though! However, I saw a few interesting indigo haori (shortish "male" over-kimono) that looked quite good. And if anyone is into vintage, moleskin "vestes de travail", Killiwatch has those.

And so back to the hotel to look at today's "rushes". A couple of nice frames, but overall a mediocre shooting day. Shows tomorrow! I'm especially excited to see the Sally Mann show.
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Not everybody is happy in Paris.

menachem, I think a working trip report is a new one for Fodor's. We rarely know much about people who write a trip report, but knowing a little bit about the writer--their interests, skills, profession, and in your case your vision--adds a lot to a trip report. This is fascinating and I look forward to following along.

I am enjoying your report and pictures very much. I would love to know your Instagram name so I could see more of your work.

I am going to Paris in October, and I am considering just taking my small mirrorless camera instead of my DSLR.

Take it! You'll move more easily and you'll have more freedom to photograph. But for many people, their smartphone will be the best camera. I think the one "mistake" many people make is that they are afraid to get close to the "action" as it were. When I'm working I'm always conspicuously "there". "zoom with your feet", as the saying goes.

Anyway, Yesterday was the day for the one photography show I wanted to see: Sally Mann at Jeu de Paume (on until September 22nd). For those who are only fleetingly familiar with her work: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sally_Mann

Morning began with coffee at the bakery at the corner of R Dunkerque and R La Fayette, the perfect vantage point to sit and see the cigarette sellers at work. This is a hardworking area! Then some housekeeping and emails to attend to and a lengthy whatsapp conversation with my son who is traveling around South East Asia at the moment. One aspect of staying near "the two stations" is that public transport is excellent. I did buy a navigo weekly pass, so that makes it easy to hop on any bus, which I did with abandon. Going to "the good part of town" is as if one is crossing a border.

Readers, I cried in the Sally Mann show. Not even because of the content of the images, which speaks to me in its depiction of time passing, history, memory, everything on the cusp of passing into history, or history revealing buried memories, so to speak. But mainly because of the prints, that hold all of this. Mann employs a collodium process that adds its own layer of meaning to her work. Also her use of lens: another layer. A very moving experience that stayed with me for the rest of the day. And immediately had me question my own little work of course. On at the same time, Marc Pataut, an activist photographer in the gritty realism style.

Afterwards, the Marais, which I visit mainly out of "jewish nostalgia". Because the shooting yesterday was so labored, "trying too hard", I told myself to slow down and just stay put in a place. Slowing down usually brings the results, but I caught myself moving too fast all the same. On the way there: the trio of Freepstar shops along Rue de Verrerie, for vintage, but these disappointed slightly.

And then Rue des Rosiers with its falafel places, which I skipped. My favorite anyway is Mi Va Mi, mainly because I've been going there for years. Saw that the Falafel powers that be are now also offering Sabich, which is a Thing, so I'll have a go during the weekend maybe. I come from an "old Chabad" family and I had mixed feelings at the sight of the "kiruv" missionary activity going on in Rue des Rosiers: groups of Chabad Shluchim, inviting people they think are Jews to lay tefilin and say the blessings, in an attempt to bring them closer to judaism. I was surprised too to see that this part of the Marais is on the itinerary of "jewish tours". Many British Bais Ya'akov girls about, crowding Korcarz and buying Rugelach.

I hung around there, at the "Pletzl" for a good while, then walked back to the hotel along R des Francs Bourgeois and Place des Vosges and via Canal St Martin. Late afternoon when I got back, and I decided to shower and rest before going for dinner.

Dinner was at Chennai Dosa, on R Faubourg St Denis, and I must say, it puts it well known neighbour to shame. Chose their South Indian thali just to sample what their cooking is like: well, it is excellent. Also: very hospitable people. Sravana Bhavaan is business-like and efficient to the point of rudeness, here there is almost a family feel to the restaurant. When you walk past the row of them, it's instantly clear where the cooking is good: those places will have large Indian families eating together. Chennai Dosa is such a place.

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Summing up: seen a wonderful show, shooting is going in a direction that's "better", lovely dinner. Loved the walking I could do and I did a lot of it.

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menachem, I'm really enjoying your report. Wonderful pictures!

And back again, after an exhausting yesterday (no photos, I had other things to do) today was much better. And I got contacted out of the blue by an old friend, and we'll meet for coffee on Monday. Wonderful.

Before I left, D, my beloved, gave an assignment to me: I had to show her things she hadn't already seen in Paris. Did a lot of thinking and walking around (which was yesterday) and settled on a self-rolled circular walk, roughly around Belleville. That walk is here: https://ridewithgps.com/routes/30727993 The start and end points are not entirely accurate, because the plan is to start at R. Faubourg St Denis. D will have the choice of going clockwise or anti-clockwise and this walk has: Little India, a semi-failed post modern housing project, canals and locks, Jewish Paris and a lot of "village": Le Mouzaïa, near Parc des Buttes Chaumont, and Belleville itself, with a beautiful view of Paris. And a good helping of Bvd de Belleville of course. There are a couple of places where I want to sit and have a drink, or have lunch, and we can cut the walk short if we feel lazy or bored.

The other walk I prepared is around the Montmartre vineyard, and there I walked this afternoon. Although it's less busy there, compared to Place du Tertre, still there are many tourists about. But it has the Montmartre Museum and Renoir's studio and garden. So that is something. The third option is an expedition to the house of Honoré de Balzac, just reopened, in the 16th. Really wondering what D will choose and whether the walks will be any good for her. Walked only part of the first route yesterday, so not entirely sure about the boring parts.

Anyway, on to today. Today was a day for riding the metro. I do a lot of that in Paris, and photograph along the way, changing lines many times, getting off one train, taking the next one on the same line etc. I feel that Paris has more interesting characters in its metro trains than London for instance. I don't know why, it's just a feeling, but a strong one. And I love being up close to people. I am a short lens type of person, and I use pretty extreme wide angle lenses. My shortest lens is 12 mm, but the shots I've shown here are all with a 28 mm lens. For my way of working and process this is ideal. I love tension in photographs, and lots of space, with things happening in the corners and at the edges, and I also like directing the eye around the photograph, and wide angle lenses give me all this. Also, it's kind of a photographic trick, to give all photos a similar "look".

Off I went, after a coffee at the bakery further observing the cigarette sellers. My first ride was the #5 metro. And immediately I met Snow White! She was there with her mother and looking rather bored and disgruntled. One of my teachers used to say, that as you get more experienced as a photographer, you get better luck. And this is generally true. He also said that only one element needs to be sharp in a photograph, but you need to consider which element that is going to be. I had a vague plan that I wanted to stroll around the Pernety metro stop. Especially R des Thermopyles. I had it on my list for "village Paris", but it is pretty isolated and so was not really suitable for a walk. So I changed lines and took the metro to La Motte-Piquet Grenelle and walked to Pernety from there, after a coffee. Basically you follow the overground metro line, a remnant of the old circular railway line, I believe.

Well, R des Thermopyles didn't disappoint. What a lovely spot! Having seen it, I took the metro back into town from Pernety, getting off and changing trains a few times, to end up at the Chemin Vert stop for a little walk into the Marais and lunch. I then saw the second show on my list, the Henri Cartier-Bresson "peregrinage" show at Fondation "HCB". This show contains photographs from two journeys he did with a friend in the early 1930s. One to central and eastern Europe, carrying unwieldy cameras, one of which took glass plate negatives. And the second journey, to Spain, that he did with a then bleeding edge Leica 35mm rangefinder M camera. The mobility, unobtrusiveness and light and silent handling of that camera remade his photography into the familiar HCB "decisive moment" style.

But the absolute surprise for me was the work by Wright Morris. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wright_Morris
Impressively stunning, like photographic archaeology, the poetical of the mundane, uncertainty, the found object. And the exploration of everyday objects irrevocably lost, or rather: in the process of being irrevocably lost. In one of the accompanying prose pieces, Morris observes how on a farm, everything gets worn down - repaired - worn down - repaired - worn down even further. He observes how the sun bleached and patched up clothing that his uncle Ed wears make him into a farm implement himself, the man converging with his labor. Like in the Sally Mann show, remembrance and awareness of the presence of death are activated by "the landscape" of objects. Morris' catalogue of empty chairs, beds of which the mattresses bear the impression of the bodies that have lain in them, the combs with teeth missing, the pin cushions, manifesting in gorgeous silver-gelatin print of these objects, has maximal emotional impact.

Outside was August-Paris, dozing in the sun in the mid-afternoon. I wandered around, many shops closed because of the summer "congé", but inside, behind the façades buzzing with the sound of renovation going on. I popped into the little "secret" green space off R de Blanc Manteaux, wandered some more, then emerged at R Etienne Marcel to take a bus, first towards Opéra, then from there, the #95 to Montmartre, in search of the "village on the hill".

From Rue Lepic I climb the hill, past the Moulin de la Galette, towards "Dalida's House". She has a popular, but also very ugly, grave monument in the Montmartre cemetery, which was the goal of another excursion for D and me a few years ago. And if you climb the "Butte" towards the Clos de Montmartre, you'll pass her former home and another memorial, marked by a very ugly bronze portrait, the bust worn shiny by years of fans' adoring hands. I circle the vineyard, then make my way to the little park behind Sacré Coeur for a little rest in the shade. It's nearly 6 PM when I leave and I make my way down the side of R du Cardinal Dubois via the "rustic" path towards "Au Soleil de la Butte" for a drink on the terrace. The "rusticness" of that path is evidence of the work of Jean-Charles Alphand, the same architect who designed the Buttes Chaumont park, and the parklet off Bvd Wilson. The telltale signs are there: crumbling bannisters of concrete made to look like rough wooden branches.

I walk down some more, down the street that has all the materials to make spectacular dance costumes and then emerge at R Seveste on Bvd de Rochechouard to take the bus back towards Gare du Nord and the paan sellers, who are in full business at this hour. This is maybe a nice little walk for the afternoon, today, when D arrives by train from Rotterdam. On whatsapp we've started counting down.

Two days of delicious wandering, and finally the photographing I'm looking for: a state of relaxed concentration. Dinner is delicious rava dosa and lovely dal with some coconut rice and a lime-ginger cooler. And so to bed.


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Supplemental:

Dalida:

And Soolking vs Dalida

And this, really heart-breaking, considering her life story

(english subtitles)

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dalida

Today was the day that D would "meet me in Paris" and to kill time until 2.30 PM I did a lot of hanging around in Jardins de Luxembourg. Although many people get as far as the basin, it is an extensive park, with tennis courts, a creche/atelier for kids, some basketball courts and many paths for the joggers. I nursed a coffee for over an hour at the buvette, then wandered back towards the basin where nautical manoeuvres were in full swing already. €4,- buys you your own yacht, that you can own for 30 minutes and is a "thing" fathers like to do with their children. Also some lone captains about, running around the basin. I used to do this with my own son, when he was about 8 and a very energetic child. The shifting wind directions had him running around the basin at least 10 times when the wind was up. But today it was a lacklustre affair, but great fun nonetheless. The yachts fly the flags of many nations, and friendly races were going on between the US and Denmark, all in good cheer. When I looked at my watch, it turned out I even had to hurry to make it on time, and I took a bus to the St Michel station and the RER from there to Gare du Nord, the fastest option.

It was great seeing each other after a week. We dropped D's bags at the hotel, had a quick coffee at the bakery on the corner, then took the bus to Montmartre. We retraced my own walk from yesterday, but now we went to the Musée de Montmartre. When you stand in front of it, it seems nothing out of the ordinary, but it hides treasures inside: the recreated artist's studio of Susan Valadon and the gardens, which also offer a wonderful view of the vineyard below. We wandered about the garden, smelling the Damascene roses, admiring the views and sitting in the little arbor at the far end of the gardens. "Exit through the giftshop", push open the door to the street and you emerge from a different world into the present again. We took the bus back to Gare du Nord, showered and went out to dinner. A "tiffin" meal set for D, Ghee Masala Dosa for me, finished with coffee for me and "the best masala chai I've ever had" for D.

As D installed herself in the hotel, I went out for some night shots. In the previous days I had decided against this, as this end of the R Faubourg St Denis is pretty on edge. "Precarité" is a very real thing here, and everything is on the razor's edge, no margins, and you see it in people's faces. It also means, tempers can flare up, easily and quickly. Yesterday night, one of the cigarette seller's wares was so obviously fake, that a group of customers complained after buying a package of "Marlboros". The sellers work in groups, with a "patron" doing the coordination, supplies and also security. Quickly two groups of men were shouting at each other. The decisive factor was that the shopkeepers decided they'd had enough of the cigarette-wallas and brought in their own security who chased the sellers to the end of the street. Rest restored.

I have a way of photographing unobtrusively and quickly. Nevertheless, I felt the rush of adrenaline as I walked around the block, well aware that I would be chased to the end of the street as well if I was too "in your face". This is an incredibly hard-working area, much of the work just or entirely outside of the law. Earlier, when we had coffee, we observed a good number of police vans going by, filled with men. Probably the result of a mass arrest of refugees in the area. In many ways Gare du Nord is a city "gate". Well guarded and a tactical demarcation line between the Paris that's kept out of sight of most tourists and the Paris of the left bank and the Marais so to speak. Every once in a while, riots break out in or around Gare du Nord if the police's grip is too tight, things relax somewhat and the cycle begins again. This area too will in all likelihood be cleaned up for "2024" and I really wonder how that will go down. There's an economy here, and social structures, even if they're not the structures the French state or the Paris Municipalité find desirable.

Got a good shot of the pani puri man and that pleased me the most tonight. He saw me working, but endured. And his pani puri are lovely. A late night snack.

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Gladly done, Nikki

I coach a few people with their photography, and the question always is: "what shall I photograph?". Always I tell people to photograph what they find interesting and move towards that, bodily. To me the camera is an extension of the body, not of the eye and photography is mainly gesture and timing. Another reason why long lenses, and photographing from afar are not for me. When we travel, we inhabit places, we connect to other people's personae through our own, even if briefly and only once. Photographing then becomes performative gesture, a tracing, a line of sight, but not sight itself.

It's a pretty common platitude that a photograph can be a window, or a mirror. To me what differentiate "snapshots" from photographs is that the latter are mirrors, not just windows. At least, that's the ideal, and sometimes I make photographs that reflect, rather than show.

I love Snow White in the Metro with "Theatre" all over the wall.

Yesterday a day devoted to Art-as-strategy and today a day for hanging out and buying books.

Art was had at Musée Nissim de Camondo and at Jacquemart-André.

A side note: D's father died late October last year, and my mother early November. Previously in 2018, I had buried two very good friends, and in early 2019 we buried my mother's one brother, my uncle.

Which was why NdC resonated immensely with us. I had seen it before, but, more as a museum. This time around, the house declared itself as an expression of deep mourning and depression. The entire Plaine de Monceau, with its 10 or so houses, spread across 59 street numbers bears the imprint of the families who lived there, at one time "Monceau" serving as a synonym for "Jewish Parvenu". Just like "vitrines" became covetable for collectors who needed them to best display their priceless "bibelots", so NdC itself is a "maison vitrine" of a jewish emigré banker-collector, who drew much antisemitic vitriol as he bought up the furniture and art stemming from crumbling chateaus. In "The Hare With Amber Eyes" Edmund de Waal describes this milieu of interrelated Jewish banking and trading families. In his case the Ephrussis, grain merchants from Odessa, just like the Camondos settled in Paris from Istanbul.

There is one photograph of Moîse de Camondo, after the loss of Nissim, ill and depressed, born down by mourning. He had sought to become "plus royaliste que le Roi" through his collecting and displaying, and had given his son to France. NdC is evidence rather of art as a strategy for assimilation, a mania for Ancien Regime art that is as much aspiration as it is admiration. To his daughter Beatrice, who thought that having hunted with Goering would protect her and her two children, it turned out that the Camondo dream of assimilation by means of art and philanthropy, was just that, a dream. Wandering to the house with its fluid succession of room after room, we descended again to the ground floor and the kitchen and were quite startled to discover the two, separated sinks in the scullery: clearly, keeping kosher was not something Moïse de Camondo had jettisoned, witness also his gorgeously bound "machzorim", the special prayer books for the High Holidays. Touching as well is the little cabinet with the photos that we made in 1936 when the house was to open as a public museum. Moïse stipulated that nothing of the furniture was to be moved in any way, except "a few small pieces like chairs and stools to enable the public to circulate freely". Something the curators have abided by up to this day.

Resting in the shade in Parc Monceau we reflected that there is a direct connection between this house and the artists' studios we saw at Rue Cortot. Isaac de Camondo collected the impressionists and it is his collection that is the backbone of the Musée D'Orsay collection. The Ephrussis, likewise, collected the then avantgarde artists, and I meditated for a bit on this connection between such different parts of the city.

Next was Jacquemart- André, an altogether different proposition. This museum too is a "maison vitrine", but the ambiance couldn't be more different from Moïse de Camondo's tasteful and harmonious arrangements. We had tea on the terrace (and a very nice terrace it is), then found ourselves outside again on wide, empty and rather boring Bvd Hausmann. Weirdly, this corner of Paris can be quite problematic in its public transport offerings. Which made it rather late in the day when we returned to our hotel across from the Paan sellers. One day left of our Paris vacation.

Onwards to today and the last day of my and our excursion. It's tempting to cram everything one wanted to have done in that last day before leaving, so we needed to forcefully act against that impulse. Which we did by hanging out, first in the Marais, then crossing the Seine to the left bank, where I bought some books at Shakespeare & Co, also to show the bookstore to D, who'd never been there. We walked to Jardins de Luxembourgh via R. des Écoles and the Pantheon and then sought and found two chairs under the trees and read.

Today wasn't a day for long photography sessions, even though I photographed at NdC with the iPhone, and was able to cram in a little detour by bus this morning.

And that was it: a working holiday in Paris. This week produced at least 2 good photographs, and afforded us ample opportunity to do what we like doing: hanging out in a city we know well and love. Thank you for following.

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Thank you very much for an interesting report and for your photos. I too feel great sadness at Musée Nissim de Camondo. It's a heartbreaking story.

Great report. Looks like you also need to visit the Albert Kahn museum and gardens in Boulogne Billancourt. The gardens reopen this September, but we will have to wait until 2021 to visit the amazing rebuilt museum. We will never see all 72,000 of his autochromes, but even the old presentation of his "planetary archives" from the beginning of the 20th century was remarkable.

With all the English speakers' interest in the Nissim de Camondo museum, collection, story, I remain amazed that the book by Pierre Assouline, Le Dernier des Camondo has not yet been translated into English.

Indeed.

BTW, I feel that the Musée Guimet likewise is a "companion museum" because of its location but also for its focus on the Asian art and "Japonisme". Fortunately, that museum is not being renovated.

Interesting you should mention that, for I bought a copy today at Gibert Jeune. Also good to see that so much by Assouline is still in print and on the shelves, so I also bought his "Golem". I also see that a pretty good monograph by Beatrice Philippe on Jewish life during the Belle Époque is also only available in English.*https://www.albin-michel.fr/ouvrages...-9782226061300

But an expansive view of the jewish milieu of this era can of course also be found in Marcel Proust's A la Recherche du Temps Perdu. Charles Swann is, after all, closely modelled on Charles Ephrussi. My own family is (very) distantly related to the Weil family from which Proust stems, and it makes this era and milieu all the more interesting to me.*

What I feel is slightly disappointing about the NdC presentation is that it downplays the function of 18th century art, to the Camondo's and similar families, as a strategem to simultaneously assimilate "Frenchness" and be assimilated into it. I feel it speaks highly to our own times and circumstances, especially because all of it turned out to be so illusionary.*