Day 27: Rendez-vous? Nope.

Listening to: "Happy Days Are Here Again" from Beautiful: The Carole King Musical

Do these look like a very abstract version of the eyes of T.J. Eckleburg? I think they do!

So it's hard to ruin my day on a Louvre day. Even when you completely miss your class...

To back up, upon consulting with some experts (I have a feeling he'll like that title), I can say that the Louvre does not look like Grand Central: Grand Central looks like the Louvre. Obviously, the Louvre was around before, and the train stations were designed after spaces like it. That seemed really obvious when it was pointed out to me. So my comparisons are not so clever after all. :/

As I came up the Metro Line 8 stairs, I saw the train stopped. No! I ran even as the flat tone sounded, and I was nearly crushed by the doors. Luckily, someone else as stupid as me also ran through, so we provided nice cushions for one another. Don't panic; I've totally done this in DC. Not that that should make it any less dangerous, but at least I didn't get my foot stuck in the door and had to stop the train. (Yes, that did happen, and I actually witnessed it.)

Anyway, I arrived an hour early, so I indulged in an opulent lunch at the Grand Louvre Café. I had this really, really awesome ravioli with truffles and a delightfully tangy cheese on top. So yummy. It was served in a small dish, and I was thinking, Wait, that's it? Except the French really understand food: you don't need to eat a ton of this stuff to feel full. I was feeling pretty winded (from eating, nonetheless) halfway through, but I decided that if I can keep down terrible "grape"-flavored cough syrup, I was definitely eating this whole dish. (It's kind of like in the first Hunger Games when Katniss is gorging on the food. She feels sick, but she's like, No. I've eaten mouse brains. I'm not barfing up this good food.) To cleanse my palette, I had two scoops of mangue sorbet. 

Now, I took a picture of my sorbet because A.) I had a similar dish at Harrod's in London with my parents and I was harkening back to that moment and B.) it's sad to take pictures of your food when it's at, like, Carvings. Not when your ice cream looks delectable like this:

While eating, I proceeded to spend $1.99 (incroyable!) and buy the Louvre app that is so heavily advertised outside in the Inverse Pyramid area (that's apparently what it's called). I received the bill around 1:50 pm, and I scooted off to meet my class.

Except... They weren't there. This didn't surprise me, as some kids arrive late due to inadequate commute time between classes, so I waited. And waited. And kept waiting. I waited with all verb forms of the infinitive "to wait." They didn't show up. I even plugged in my headphones and listened to my new app, which gives you bits of information on certain Must-See works, and even guides you on a tour for yourself. 

At about 2:45 pm, an hour after the class begins, I lost all hope. I couldn't send an email because there is no service in the Louvre: there's only enough WiFi for you to download their app. It's a cruel trick. So I felt sort of stranded, but in order to not waste the day away, I decided that as a cousin of half-Greek citizens, I could tour the statues myself. Plus I had my handy new app, so... It all works out?

This time was even more enjoyable because I actually knew where I was going. I ran into some rooms I had passed through before, but now I actually knew where I was in relation to the Main Entrance. So cool. 

Before figuring out I was in the wrong century wing, I snapped some shots. It's difficult to tell because artists just were not into changing from the Greek style, so all the statues start to look the same to me.

REALLY resisting the urge to make a "she sells sea shells by the seashore" joke. Except I did that thing where I mentioned what I said I wasn't going to mention... That was a rhetorical fallacy with a fancy name that I cannot remember...

Dragons are always cool.

I liked this statue because it looks like how the Muses do when they sing backup for "I Won't Say I'm In Love." (Wow, I need to think less about Disney.)

I circled through, making sure I hit the Greek statues on the Must-See audio guide: Aphrodite (known as Venus de Milo), Artemis with a doe (known as the Diana of Versailles), Captives (known as the Rebellious Slave and Dying Slave), Fighting Warrior (known as the Borghese Gladiator), and The Victory of Samothrace (my personal favorite). Taking on my eggbert personality, let me lecture you! 

So, you probably recognize this one: Venus de Milo. Admittedly, I thought of the Walt Disney movie Hercules when I saw it, when Herc throws a stone and breaks the statue. Anyway, it's called Venus even though it's Greek, so all you Percy Jackson aficionados should know that its name should technically be Aphrodite. And that's what the Louvre tries to call her, but it's hard to buck tradition. She had quite the crowd around her, and it took some patience (and elbowing) to get this close.

Admittedly, I took this picture with the intention of shaming these dudes for taking pictures of a statue's buttocks. But then I listened to the audio guide, and it commanded me to take in a 360-degree view of this woman, so who was I to say no to a disembodied voice?

  

Yes, yes, I'm fully aware that the lighting in the second picture is crappy, but blame the sun and the windows, not me.

 The audio guide was quick to point out that while the front is very graceful and the pleats on her robe are exquisite, the back is not nearly as good. Apparently the worst view is the dark picture, and not because it's in bad lighting. It's because it shows the least amount of craftsmanship. Actually, that's probably why it's in the bad lighting.

Also, this statue is not as old as it looks. Experts think a later Greek sculptor wanted to pay tribute to the old style of sculpting nude, sensuous women (because who wouldn't?) while at the same time showing off his new skills of twisting the body all fluidly.

And yes, I did take a selfie. And I hated myself while doing it:

So here is Artemis with a doe, which you've also probably seen. I saw this one last week, but it was bronze and in the Italian painting section for some reason... This one was marveled at because of the action stance, rather than a rigid, posed position. She apparently also had a bow, which would have been AWESOME if it were still here. (Stupid iconoclasts and wearing down of things.) Apparently the doe might not be a doe, but I forgot what they think it is. It has something to do with a golden animal in mythology, but then again, doesn't everything?

Some idiot decided to sell this, which is why France has this sculpture. The foreign ambassador was like, "Yeah, I'm definitely buying this," and gave it to the king. (I can't remember which one; do your own research) Then it was moved here... And then to Versailles (because I guess King Louis was just greedy). And then back here, obviously.

These are the two Captive sculptures mentioned above. They were made by Michelangelo, and they took a long-ass time to make because the pope/king/person with the money was like, "Oh, we want these in a tomb-like thing... Except now you have to paint the Sistine Chapel. Oh, and now we're not doing the tomb thing, so we'll just put these rejects in the Louvre." These are supposed to be slaves that are being forced to die, and the audio guide person was really into the statue on the right. The words "chiseled muscles" were used--though maybe that's more of a pun than a Twilight-esque description. The statue on the right has given up and is succumbing to death nobly, while this other statue on the left doesn't get as much love because he's actually fighting it like any other normal human being.

As a tangent, I totally got kicked out of this room. And it wasn't because I flashed my camera (or myself, haha)! They just were like, "Everyone out." I don't know why. What a mystery...

Here we have the Fighting Warrior, another great example of how terrible people are at identifying statues. It's described as a "gladiator," but since it's in the Greek section (and was carved by a Greek sculptor), he's definitely not a gladiator. To drive this point even further, gladiators also wore clothes, because I'm guessing fighting wild animals/men naked is just...ugh, I don't want to think about it. (Castration!) Except they can't figure out who he could be, so I'm guessing demi-god? Anyway, once again, motion is the key to this statue's fame. This actually looks a lot like a sculpture featured in our textbook, except that dude was throwing a discus.

Now here's my favorite! I took a picture of it last time because it's so striking. It's an actual Greek sculpture, not some recreation the Romans were fond of. The educated guess is that the headless figure is Nike, and it is celebrating a victory (hence the name). The Louvre needs to update their app on this, actually, because it tells you that the statue is not on display, when this picture clearly contradicts that. It was under renovation for a year because the statue was all worn down from being on display since the 1980's. The main thing the restorers did was make the colors more contrasting. I know you're thinking, What contrast? It's marble. Except the human figure is a lighter marble than the "ship" underneath her. Her original color would've been blonde, while the ship would've been that more traditional marble that is also on my kitchen floor at home.

Forgive me, but I'm going to go all artsy fartsy on you with these pictures:

Favorite shot!

It's just so awesome! And there's steps to sit on and write in your journal like a total hipster.

Bonus round!

Patron saint of theater? Except that mask is rather frightening. Because it's so lifelike, the woman just seems like an unmasked Hannibal Lecter to me.

What game is she playing???

I believe this was Hermes? With Dionysus? Except why is he a child? (The more likely explanation is that I'm just wrong.)

This looks like an ornament that belongs on our Christmas tree. You know... If it weren't bigger than me.

Frankly, this reminds me of a Degas sculpture, which is why I love it. (The guy next to me was totally judging me for taking a picture of a naked statue.)

More "I Won't Say I'm In Love" figures.

I really like headless sculptures. John Green says, "The arms are the first to go. Then the nose!" But it's definitely the head. And "to go" means to be somehow lost to us, resulting in a figure that Sir Nicholas of Gryffindor would be pea-green with envy over.

Support the arts, man!

I told myself I was totally going to remember all these statue names when I got home. Needless to say, I was wrong.

They're watching me! I can feel your judgment!

Just...awesome.

This is a Hogwarts fireplace. End of discussion.

When I return, I would like this throne made so I can watch TV like a boss.

Even grounds of temples were cool.

A satyr! But I think he plays flute better than Grover can...

This is a prime example of when _____ tourists just photobomb because. They stand very close to these statues. Do they want to hug them? In the case of this specific statue, do they want this guy to breastfeed them?

Everyone gets so caught up in looking at what the tour groups are looking at. They forget that there are beautiful sculptures like this around corners.

Please don't report me. I'm not a pornographer. I'm just sharing some art! But headless statues are hot. Just saying. (I'll fully admit that I may have a problem.)

I think this is cool, but I can just Matt gasping, "That's animal cruelty!"

I'd like this table made. No, I'm not kidding. I refuse to use a nightstand that doesn't have scary creatures' faces for legs.

Is headlessness-liking a fetish? It's not like I want someone to chop my head off. I especially don't want to promote that idea here in France, where the last person executed via capital punishment in the 1970's died by guillotine. Maximilien Robespierre would've been proud, and I have a feeling he'd want to buy this statue for himself.

The sign said this was a sphinx. I'm guessing this would be something you would find for sale in the ancient equivalent of Chinatown for $10 (or a bushel of grain, I guess).

You might not be able to see it, but these children are SCARY. Look at those eyes! Actually, don't look at them. They may steal your soul.

This is a statue of Hermaphrodite. Once again, a fact that should've been obvious to me: Hermaphrodite was the child of Hermes and Aphrodite. (Man, is there any Greek god another Greek god wouldn't skoodilypoop with?) The Japanese tour group here was extremely fascinated with this sculpture. Perhaps too fascinated.

For my ashes, someday.

My terrible memory tells me this is some variation of a "Venus and Eros" sculpture.

Well, I don't know what to say. It's a naked man. The end.

Extremely creepy, though mostly because of the fractured state.

Where did all these heads go? Did they fall off naturally, or were people just so enamored with the faces that they stole just those???

Now we've got multiple naked people. So a nudist colony?

So weird because it's a ferocious lion playing with a ball much like my cat Emma.

Life is just too hard today, man. Today I'm not doing anything. I am not getting out of bed today.

Introducing the confusing part of the Louvre: the fact that they have the same statues in different sizes in different places. 

And you thought a double plot at the cemetery was romantic. This is Etruscan, not Greek, and the audio guide pointed out interesting things like that they probably were holding jugs of wine. Oh, and she had pierced ears.

Stretch!

I didn't quite know what to make of this.

Go forth! Boldly go where no other man has gone before. The die has been cast. Veni vidi vici. (I'm running out of original sentiments, just a consequence of living in this postmodern wasteland of life. Wow, that got very deep. My Modernism professor would be proud.)

This sculpture has a great deal of sass. Like, "Don't you walk away from me! Don't make me snap my fingers in a Z-formation!"

Yes, that's a chicken. Why? I don't know. So why am I showing you? BECAUSE IT'S A CHICKEN.

Now, you all know that I am clueless, but that point was really driven home with the fact that the Mona Lisa certainly isn't hiding. I had walked right past it last week. Like, you can see the painting from the hall I was walking through. Wow...

These paintings don't get any love because they're in the room before the Mona Lisa.

Then this one gets even less love because it IS in the same room as the Mona Lisa. Seriously. There are a ton of paintings in the room. I thought it must've been blank. Nope. Thankfully, the crowd was thinner today.

La Jocunde in all her glory.

The story behind this painting is actually really boring. It was probably made to celebrate either the birth of another son or the fact that the family moved into a bigger house. Oh, okay. Wait, what?

Side view.

And the obligatory selfies. You can see how I tried to do the same enigmatic smile but kind of failed.

Eh, "slightly deranged" does the trick.

So I'm clearly not the only one...

I have more to say (as always), but I'll save it for tomorrow, since I only have one class.