date: Sun, Feb 15, 2009
subject: My last Sunday à Lyon . . .
Good Morning Everyone,
I’m sitting at Madame’s computer in her very large bedroom with the tall window facing la Saône on my left. The window begins at chair level and rises up at least 10 feet. To open it you turn the handle in the center and the two tall panels open towards you. There is a redish gate just outside the window made of iron with lots of nice curly-cues.
I suppose it’s to keep you from falling out (though the other day when I was doing laundry and I opened the similarly designed though smaller window off the bathroom–it’s right next to the john–to hang my wash outside, Lily jumped up and was about to jump out of the window!!–on to the 5 or 6 lines that run parallel with the window; but I grabbed her!!!
You have to be REALLY careful not to drop your clothes when you hang the laundry. Remember, I’m several flights up! Hopefully it would land on the neighbor’s little contraption for hanging their wash below, but if not, I’m not exactly sure how you’d get to the bottom of this tiny courtyard! I’ve already lost two clothespins . . .).
Madame left early this morning for Paris for 3 nights. She’s on a two-week holiday from work/school. She’s staying with a friend she hasn’t seen for about 10 years or so but with whom she talks regularly. Interestingly enough, this friend is German and is teaching German in Paris. According to Madame, this woman’s French is almost as good as hers (Madame’s).
—-T just called . . . I said good night and he said good morning!
It’s a beautiful day outside (though cold, maybe between 25 and 30° F, warmer than when I arrived ages ago) and I think later I’ll go out for an exploratory bike ride before and after visiting the museum about THE war. Did you know that Lyon was the most important city for the resistance? I’ve been twice in (I think this is what they are called) les traboule. They are underground passages that were used by the resistance for moving through the city, the Germans didn’t either know about them or didn’t know where they went exactly . . . they couldn’t look it up on the internet then, of course.
But for now I wanted to write a couple of emails that are in my head.
The first one’s subject line is: Wow! Wow! and again, WOW!!!
The second one is: The most incredible weekend.
SUBJET: Wow! Wow! and again, WOW!!!
Thursday night I passed dining with all the gang to go to a Vernissage à Musée D’Art Contemporain de Lyon. The Saturday before while exploring I deliberately went to two different galleries in the middle of the largest construction sight I’ve ever seen.
It reminded me of the no-man’s-land in Berlin that is now the hip place that it is with shopping centers très chic and hotels, etc. But this construction in the very south portion of the center of Lyon (called the “Island Lyon” in the many ads I saw) is incredibly vast. I managed to perservere (how in the heck do you spell that word??? Looked it up, perservere is an alternate spelling of persevere) and find these two galleries. I loved the first one.
The second one . . . it was cool too.
The artist is Stéphane Braconnier,
born 1958, lives and works in Lyon.
There were an assortment of colorful chairs with these black “twigs” dressed around each one. I was told by the very nice receptionist Chloé that they represented legs. Some were more masculine, some more feminine, etc. The artist’s name is Georges Verney-Carron. Chloè told me about the Vernissage to be held the following Thursday evening.
I thought it was going to be a talk about the art exhibit, which was opening the next day. Okay, I thought, I won’t be able to understand it all, but it’ll be a cultural experience, so I went. Boy, was I ever in for a treat. After waiting an hour in the cold (yes, an hour. I don’t know why they didn’t open at the advertised time, but I had a pleasant time talking to a woman named Claude who works as a food expert for lunches in Lyon . . . in the schools, I believe. Remember, if I can get 50 percent on the conversation, I’m doing well! For all I know she might actually be the person who makes the mayors’–there are many in Lyon–lunches each day) I entered the museum with what was now a THRONG of people. After 3 very fine speeches on the importance of art by 3 very distinguished gentlemen, we gained admittance into the museum, for free!!! And here’s the kicker. We were allowed to take pictures for this night only. So, I took ALOT! I thought of you Dan as I looked at the perverted (though very well done!) graphic comics, and I thought of you BJ while looking at all KINDS of things. And Jocelyne, there were some really fascinating sculptures.
The exhibit is composed of 3 parts: 1) Quintet, art by Stèphane Blanquet, Masse, Gilbert Shelton, Joost Swarte and Chris Ware. It’s all very modern and interesting.
2) N’Importe Quoi, I don’t know why it’s called nothing of importance but it was all pretty fascinating. There were works by MANY artists.
My favorite was a series of photos (maybe 20) of the same scene, a kitchen. But in each photo there was something in the foreground out of focus. It had been tossed up in the air (or perhaps dropped) and captured at the instant it was in front of the camera. Maybe I liked it best because I know how hard that is to do . . .
The third exhibit was not open. Hopefully it will be when I return with the school next week. This third area is focused on young artists . . .
I took LOTS of photos. You can look at them someday when we put the thousands (and I do mean thousands) of photos on the net.
SUBJET: The most incredible weekend. (6.02. 09 à 8.02. 09)
After writing to you all last week Friday, I walked home in the DRENCHING rain. Along the way I stopped at a store and bought chocolate powder for making hot chocolate. It was that kind of moment.
When I got back to the apt. and removed my wet clothing, I found that my feet had been dyed blue to match my socks (which I had swiped from Dad, by the way, he gave me permission last November . . . I like wearing his socks. Now, 9 days later, my little toenails are still blue . . . :) That night I dared to venture forth and meet my new friend Monika. She’s from Switzerland and is all of 35 years old.
Monika from the back . . . we were exploring Lyon
and discovering lots of wonderful graffiti.
We had several fun excursions together. Alas, she departed for home yesterday after 3 weeks of school. (There are lots of saying goodbyes, and hello!, here . . . :) et :( .
Last week Friday night Monika and I decided to forego the party at “the” appartement.
(It ended up being a good idea I think, to skip the party, that is; sounds like it got rather wild because all the school got a good talking to on Monday morning, pretty classic really . . . but I don’t mind that I missed it, I’ve been there literally and metaphorically before many times . . . )
I met her at her side of the river beside la passerelle saint vincent.
We wandered uphill towards the region called Croix Rousse to hear some blues. It was great! It was a trio, female singer/guitar player who could hold her own, a male guitar player and male bass player. She had the quality of voice similar to Janice Joplin. We stayed for over 3 hours, it was that good.
Then Saturday I read in bed until 12:30 p.m.! I just couldn’t put down the book Lisa had given me, so decided what the heck? Why not finish it? It was miserably wet and cold outside. The title? “The Guersey Literary Potato Peel Pie Society.” You can search online if you’d like to know about it. I’ve sent it on to Mom to read.
Looks cozy, doesn’t it? Even Lily the cat joined in the fun.
Then, after crawling out of bed, I went out into the cold (but not cruel at least!) world happy to find that it had stopped raining, well, mostly stopped. At least I wasn’t concerned about dyeing my feet again. I found a nice place for a very proper lunch of salade chevre chaud (warm goat cheese on toast and salad) and saumon avec haricot vert et riz (salmon, rice and green beans). I topped it off with a warm chocolate cake a lot like the ones I make (and love!); and then to be really proper, I had an espresso, albeit decaf. Afterwards I made it my mission to find some art galleries. They make it fairly easy with a brochure with a map of broad strokes. And as I already mentioned, I perservered and found the 2 galleries in the boonies.
Needless to say, afterwards I dug into my purse for one of the many metro/bus/tram tickets I had purchased for the long ride home.
That evening I took advantage of Madame being away and watched some Simpsons en francais with some pasta I whipped up (bow ties with spinach, garlic, butter and a slight sprinkling of Uncle Mike’s fab salt). Afterwards I climbed the hill to Croix Rousse and found yet another gallery on the main boulevard. When I stepped into the warm bar my glasses immediately fogged up. It was just as well because I found myself yet again in the world of the 20 something year olds. On another night I might have ordered a cocktail and joined the fun, but that night I chose just to check out the art as my glasses defogged, and bounce to the techno music for a bit. When I stepped outside, the cool air was actually a relief. I found a new way home and yet another view of la fourvière (elephant on its back) and Lyon’s answer to the Eiffel tower.
I began the next day (Sunday) like the previous day and finished yet another book. This one though was in French and quite basic. It was a fun read about a journalist Alex Leroc who works in Brussels . . . I’ve read 3 of these little books already. They come with a CD and I was able to have a listen since B was away visiting her parents. I plan to do the same later this evening.
Then I spent the afternoon at the theatre!!! I read about this play in the weekly journal and thought it’d be just right for me and it was. It was in a tiny theatre on the same street with loads of art galleries (rue Burdeau if you feel like checking it out on google earth).
This particular theatre is called Production Espace 44–44 for its street number. The tiny space reminded me a little of the small theatre on Kaua‘i, in that the seating was on 4 rows of benches in what felt like bleachers. However, the benches abutted the tiny space, probably the size of our dining room straight through to the couches. The play was “Un Roi sans divertissement” (a king without distractions). The star, and lone performer, was Jean Giono, a funny little bald man with a very flexible voice. The stage was simply a table and bookshelf (sr) covered with dusty objects one might find on travels to Africa or the far east . . . The actor entered the stage, took his time taking off his hat and coat, dusted a few objects, sat down and then realized we were there . . . he then opened a portfolio and took us on a journey of a tale from long ago . . . at least that’s what I think happened. Maybe it was something all together different, but I enjoyed the ride anyway. Along the way he transformed into the different characters in the story. I especially loved it when his voice boomed into something completely different and funny . . .
I topped the experience off with a scoop of Haagen Daz (yes, HD; there’s a little shop next to Hotel De Ville).
I got a flavor I’d never seen before, very European. Chocolate with hazelnut and toffee. Yep, it was delish.
When I returned I had about 3 to 4 hours of really intense study. It was great! It was the kind where you have an objective, you meet it and get completely lost in what you’re doing. I was quite content. I was wanting to have the tenses that I’ve studied clear in my head because the next day I was starting my first week in the harder class. I did just about all I could stand and then it was 9 p.m., just the right time to go out to dinner in France . . .
Since I’d eaten my “dinner” for lunch I decided to check out the restaurant I’d noticed several weeks before and have a pizza made in a wood fire . . . and lots of conversation with the adorable waiter. Yes Tony, he was, adorable that is. Believe it or not I haven’t met that many adorable people, so I indulged in fun conversation. Then it ended up that the chef has a little business in Honolulu (yes! honoruru!) with his brother. He proceeded to come out and chat with me for over 20 minutes. I noticed that no one was served their dinner while we spoke! Seems he and his brother have a year contract to sell French chocolates to Japon Air; it’s called Padovani’s Chocolates and is based out of the Dole Cannery area close to Sam Choy’s . . . . and yes, he knows Sam Choy. It is indeed a small world.
Writing about all this now, I’m not sure it comes across as nice as it was for me . . .
blues with a new friend
reading in bed (with my new friends on Guernsey)
lunch out
art galleries
the simpsons
late night walk with a view
reading in bed again (this time with Alex Leroc)
followed by listening to the CD of the same
au theatre en francais
Haagen Daz
several hours of intense studying
pizzeria with fun conversation
So, now it’s time to get up off my tuff and explore Lyon.
I thank you all for being so kind and taking the time to read my rantings . . . it’s so cool to know I have so many friends literally all over the world traveling by my side . . . merci beaucoup.
à bientôt,
Susan
