Musée d'Orsay and Reno, the French Boy Toy

OK, our second favorite museum is, of course, the Musée d'Orsay, the giant Beaux Art building, converted from a train station from the turn of the last century, which is home to some of our favorite Impressionist paintings, as well as works by Van Gogh and Gauguin. 

There is something powerful about the Musée d'Orsay, about how its giant cavernous expanse, a spectacle of France at the height of its imperial power prior to the dark days of the early 20th Century. It's open and beautiful and you can easily spend a good hour just wandering the main floor or sitting on a bench relaxing as the bright yet diffused glow of the daylight bathes the giant atrium.

And then, off in galleries off the main arcade is the history of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist art that is just breathtaking; Manet, Seurat, Millet, Monet, you can't walk into a gallery without being confronted by a masterpiece.

Sadly, any photographs I've taken, or even those of professional photographers, can't capture the magic of the real thing; especially for my favorite, Vincent Van Gogh. His "Starry Night Over the Rhone" just shimmers with expectation and hesitancy; as if he spent his life attempting to capture the vibrancy of life, or at least how his fevered mind perceived it.

I can't look at this painting without feeling my heart well up in my chest; the energy of the brush strokes, where the stars just shimmer off the canvas and the reflections off the river seem to set the current and its ripples into motion. It is, quite literally for me, a moving picture.

And, of course, here is the master himself, in a quiet moment. I often wonder, when he did his self-portraits, was he also trying to capture the immediacy of his emotions? In this one, he appears so at ease, it's almost like a vocational portrait of a saint you would see in a church. Yet there is consternation in the arch of his brow; as if he knew the respite wouldn't last.

And then there is the view from the museum itself, through one of its magnificent clock faces, across the Seine and there is the Louvre. We never get bored of Paris. We just don't.

And how could we not, what with the locals being so friendly.

On Tuesday morning, September 10, I woke to the following funny message on Facebook from Communications and PR person extraordinaire Janine Iamunno: "If you're still in France, I want a birthday present: A video of a Frenchman saying my name. No one says it better!  "ZHA-neen." A hot one would be a bonus, obviously ..."

So, after Musée d'Orsay we jumped into a cab and headed to the Jardin botanique de l'Université de Strasbourg. As we walked into the park, I told Bob about Janine's request, and as if sent by divine intervention there HE was: Reno.

You couldn't miss him, really. He was reclined on one of the folding chairs, denim shorts, 5 o'clock stubble at 1 p.m., shirtless. 

"You should ask him," said Bob.

Viola!

Well, here ya go, Janine!