The Jewish Section

It is a sad state of affairs that is highlighted as one walks into the Paris Musée d’art et d’histoire du Judaïsme: bullet-proof glass, a metal detector, and multiple locked doors to pass through. 

Pompidou

 
 At the extensive Pompidou Center, AM was delighted to discover two exciting and previously unknown artists, Simon Hantaï (an abstract expressionist type who folded his canvasses before painting them, and then opened them up, and/or wrote in small, minute detail over a period of a year on a single canvas), and Kupka (whose work is significantly earlier and whose colors and abstractions are particularly striking).

 

AM was especially interested in seeing the Dada collection, and MM discovered Picabia’s vast ouvré. Duchamp/R. Mutt’s urinal, sadly, was not on display, but many other interesting pieces and small press goodies were. We both admired the Chagalls, of course, and we argued a bit (an old argument) about Pollock.

MM was thrilled to see Matisse’s woman in a “Romanian Blouse.” But in the end it was too much: we didn’t even make it beyond WWII to the provocative contemporary art on the next floor. More photos here.

Laundry in Paris

We both adhered to the traveler’s principle of packing light, but since a week has transpired, it was time to do our laundry. The hotel was willing to oblige and we, being naïve, decided it might be expensive but worth the extra expense. At the last minute, however, AM receive a price list and we discovered that the cost of laundering would amount to twice the cost of the goods we had to launder. It was MM who suggested we hit the internet, and with the help of someone’s online finding-a-laundry-in-Paris how-to (since misplaced, sadly), AM was able to locate a wash-and-fold service within five blocks of the hotel.

The owner, Claude, was bemused that two guests from the Royal St. Michel (with that name, perhaps he thought it was a 5-star hotel) would walk five blocks to his small shop, but the price was much better and we left our one-load bag with him and in broken French/English arranged to pick it up in the evening–much better than hassling with our hotel’s exorbitant itemized laundry list.

TGV to Paris

Anybody who’s spoken with us about this trip knows how excited we were to take the new, improved bullet train, the TGV; MM had even brought along a recent article from The Economist on the network throughout France and connected countries and the European goal to have train travel be competitive rival to the airline industry. You can imagine our excitement at seeing the comfortable and arty seats–and our distress at discovering that the ones we’d been assigned would face backwards.

Back in Basel

Our evening was spent back in Basel, as we’ll be taking the bullet train to Paris in the morning. Since we only caught a few glimpses the other day on the way to and fro the Tinguely Museum, we were lucky to discover, through a leisurely (and increasingly desperately hungry) stroll through the old town and on the banks of the Rhein, that Basel is a beautifully laid-out city with understated but elegant residential buildings, verdant parks, an ageless church, and a lively quay and river life.

The Alsace

We’ve said goodbye to OH in Weggis (which we’ve learned, by the way, does NOT sound like Vegas–at least not if you want a local to understand you), and an early ferry to Luzern and then the train to Basel acted as portals into the French wine country. First, however, we had to walk to France:

Zürich’s Chagall Windows

We all met up again today in Zürich after our various adventures, and explored the old city in Zürich and window-shopped a bit a bit (not to mention visiting a fine antiquarian bookstore or two).

Trek Over the Klausenpass

Our Host took me (MM) on a day trek by car over the Klausenpass to Braunwald, a town perched above the highest alpine meadow in the Alps (check it out here). The lakeside road along the torturous waterway of eastern Lake Lucerne–a fiord-like experience–quickly gave way to slow, winding switch-backs. It was a white-knuckle road, with sheer drops of 1000 feet protected by a steel fence, creating an illusion of safety as convincing as a rubber band stretched across an inflated flat tire. The two-lane road progressively narrowed until two small opposing cars could barely get by each other, with intermittent pullouts offering a tempting solution, unless the oncoming vehicle was a Swiss postal truck with hierarchical authority-If no room exists for both vehicles, the private car backs down the pass until there is a pullout!

However, OH demonstrated extraordinary driving prowess and complete command of his high gears–although his usual loquacious persona transformed into an eerie silence on the tight curves. Passing motorcyclists had speed and agility, and the occasional brave bicyclist was saddled with inertia and fatigue.

Escape!

AM took the train up to Zürich for a little wandering and alone time. Stop #1: Cabaret Voltaire, dada’s birthplace (in the teens it was owned by Hugo Ball, but it fell into disrepair in the late 20th c., and apparently became a squat until it was re-dedicated by a group of art-history-minded entrepreneurs).

Steampunk Fantasyland in Basel: Musee Tinguely

“Switzerland: Where no view is a bad view.” We decided that this really ought to be the country’s tourism tag line as we watched the changing scenery on the train from Luzern to Basel.

The Tinguely Museum is simply a place one must go. Given MM’s experience, we might even say it is best if one knows nothing concrete about Jean Tinguely ahead of time. And since it is highly unlikely these pieces will ever travel in great number—a virtual army of highly conscientious dis- and re-assemblers would be required—it alone makes Basel well worth a trip. (Not that there aren’t other reasons, mind you.)