Reflecting the Palais de Tokyo

The Palais de Tokyo is an art gallery in Paris' 16th arrondissement dedicated to modern and contemporary art. It was built in 1937 for the International exhibition dedicated to art and technology. It was conceived as a gallery for the modern-art collections of both the French state and the city of Paris. The monumental stone-clad building is composed of two wings. The Eastern wing is home to the Modern Art Museum of Paris, the western, state-owned wing, has had a more troubled past.

Superceded in its' original purpose by the Centre Pompidou in 1976, it fulfilled a number of roles until, in the early 1990s, the culture ministry decided to install a cinema museum under its roof. €12.2 million were spent gutting the interior only for the project to be dropped following a change of government in 1997. The structurally weakened building envelope/shell stood abandoned until in 1999 the ministry announced it would become home – provisionally – to a ‘centre for contemporary creation’.

I was there last week visiting the Philippe Parreno exhibition, as part of my research for a lesson I planned to give to my students. It was dusk when I came out of the museum. The light and reflections, in the formal pond to the south of the museum were beautiful.

Throw in a few leaves and the reflections look even better.

Then add some flood lighting.

As a final touch add 1 x No. Eiffel Tower.

Hello Paris. You're so beautiful!

Fifty Shades of Red

So many beautiful reds at this time of year. 

The Montmartre vineyard.

An apartment block overlooking the Saint Vincent Cemetery. Looking up.

Looking down.

Zooming in.

Perfect red berries.

A perfect raspberry macaron.

Magical Monday - An Autumnal Monster

Every Monday, Magical Monday, I post a photo that is hopefully puzzling, fantastical or unexpected.

More photos from the Magical Mondays series can be found here.

A Magical Monday - An Autumnal Selfie

Every Monday, Magical Monday, I post a photo that is hopefully puzzling, fantastical or unexpected.

More photos from the Magical Mondays series can be found here.

The last of the falling leaves

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

...

Extract from sonnet 73 by by William Shakespeare (1609)

As I walked up Rue Caulaincourt on Sunday I marvelled at the pavement which was strewn with fallen leaves. These small green leaves have been clinging on much longer than most, but now it's time to let go. The last of the leaves are falling. Winter is coming. Sigh.

Red leaves in the Montmartre Cemetery.




Red leaves and a cat.

Orange leaves in Oxford.



Yellow leaves.

Yellow leaves and a crow.


Yellow leaves and some spikes.


A beautiful tree in Parc Monceau.


A carefully swept pile of yellow leaves in our street.

This morning when I passed this tree I noticed that somebody has been playing with those carefully swept up leaves. The work of a Parisian road sweeper is never done.

Red? What's not to like?

Here's a little colour to brighten up these grey, grey days. 

Here's a portrait of me, drawn by the 6yo, when he was 5. 

More red can be found here (thumbnails) and here (slideshow)

Rain

It's been raining here in Paris. Raining, and raining. With extra rain. Yes, yes, I know we've been very lucky so far this autumn, we've had beautiful weather, lots of sun, not too cold. But now we have rain, relentless drizzle. It's getting me down. In an attempt to cheer myself up I set myself the challenge of finding beauty in the rain. This is what I came up with.

Puddles of course, lots of puddles.

Wet leaves. Yellow.

Wet leaf. Red and orange.

Gathering droplets. I think these are my favourite.

More droplets, with inverted images of the surrounding buildings.

Oh, there's a bug on this one, maybe that's why the plant is dying.

Here is Bruce reflected on the balcony decking.

A spider web catches the rain.

Wet pavement. Green light.

Wet pavement. Red light.

Green. Go!

And the rain stopped. For a bit, at least.