Chapter 5

Impressions and Recollections

Flavia de Souza

Impressions and Recollections

Flavia de Souza


Chapter Five

Flavia de Souza ● Oct 27, 2021

The glass pyramid at the Louvre

I started to explore Paris on my own when I was free in the afternoons. My daily practice at the piano shop was from 9am to 1pm, it took about forty minutes by Metro to return to the Residence at no.12 Rue Monsieur, so after my solo lunch in the dining room, I could do whatever I wanted. I usually spent the afternoons writing letters to my parents or doing my laundry or cleaning my room. Other than these tasks, I was quite free until dinnertime at 8pm. 


I therefore decided to explore Paris armed with my trusted map of Paris and my student card which allowed me unlimited trips via the Metro or by bus and as a scholarship student, I had free entry at museums. Having visited the Museum of the Impressionists,
Musée d’Orsay, I decided to explore the Louvre. In those days the Louvre didn’t have the controversial glass pyramid in the main courtyard of the museum. All through its planning and construction this glass pyramid created a great buzz as it was opposed and reviled with disdain, with negative Press publications and brickbats hurled at the Chinese-American archietect, I.M.Pei. However, despite all the bitter opposition, the glass pyramid was opened on the 29th March 1989 by François Mitterand, the French President at that time. I suppose it was understandable that the construction of that glass pyramid could’ve caused so much public antipathy seeing that it was an extremely modern construction of glass and steel placed in the main courtyard of as stately and imposing a building as the Louvre, with all its historic past dating back to the late 12th early 13th century, but when I saw it, I thought that it wasn’t a jarring contrast visually. It was as though it bridged the past and the present and even the future. 

I’ve included a link below at the end of this Chapter should you wish to read more about the glass pyramid at the Louvre.


I remember being completely in awe at the mere sight of the Louvre from its exterior. As the Louvre was originally a king’s palace it was a beautiful building to be admired with its lofty ceilings and ornate decor. Uncertain as to where to start looking, the first room I visited at the Louvre was where the famous painting, Mona Lisa, was placed. I was surprised to see that it’s actually quite a small painting in reality. It was heavily guarded and protected electronically. I was to revisit that iconic painting a few more times during my student years in Paris. I was told that the mystery about the Mona Lisa is as though the eyes of that portrait follow you wherever you move in front of the painting. The artist, Leonardo da Vinci, had captured on canvas what is possible when a person is photographed looking directly at the camera lens. I found this to be true! It was a strange uncanny feeling as though you were being watched by someone.   


I visited the Louvre several times after that, sometimes daily, and bought a small booklet of the museum which served as a guide. It listed the different sections, the rooms and their artefacts from paintings to tapestries, each one depicting an event in vivid detail that one relived the emotion of that moment in history. Some of those paintings and tapestries were immensely large that only a single one covered an entire wall! I marvelled at the meticulous attention down to the smallest details. Visiting the Louvre is as though one walks through the History of the World. There are rooms within that immense musuem which house archeological artefacts, and even Egyptian mummies, the latter, not quite to my liking! I cannot quite comprehend until this day, Man’s morbid fascination with corpses! And to put those remains on display in a museum! 

Since I went on weekday afternoons, there were very few visitors and many times I was the only one in those vast rooms. Sometimes there were tour groups with their guides or groups of school children with their teachers but they never stayed too long in one room. 


I enjoyed walking through the landscaped gardens of the adjacent
Jardin des Tuileries (the Tuileries’ Gardens) betwen the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde where its obelisk marks the place of the infamous guillotine of the French Revolution. I stopped on the bridges that spanned the river Seine, the most beautiful being the Pont Alexandre Trois. When the weather turned warmer in late Spring I would sometimes take a walk below those bridges where there would be easels set up by artists or student artists who wished to paint. 


The small shops along the Rue de Rivoli each had a variety of items and their window displays were always enticingly attractive. I admired the window displays at the big departmental stores especially at Christmastime, where the decor in each window were like stage sets in a theatre, each window telling a different story. I just wished that I had had a camera to capture some of those really beautiful window displays, they were like giant Christmas cards! 


One thing which left a lasting impression on me was the way items were given to you once you paid for them at individual perfume shops. These were never handed to you in a paper or plastic bag. However small the purchase, it was always beautifully gift wrapped. Boxed items often had a couple of paper pleats on one side of the box, and then tied with a ribbon, its loose strands elegantly curled and topped off with a small piece of glittering tinsel at Christmastime. Such elegant finesse! It rubbed off on me and I became fascinated with gift wrapping ever since. 


I explored bakeries when I felt hungry and loved the
pain jambon, a ham sandwich which used a large portion of a newly baked baguette and a slice of jambon blanc. Equally tempting were the crisp buttery croissants and cream puffs oozing with fresh cream called choux à la crème.   


In sidewalk cafés I enjoyed the warm melted cheesy deliciousness of the
Croque Monsieur, the soft golden omelettes served like a roll, and the thin French pancakes called crêpes, drizzled with melted butter and honey. Seldom partial for sweet treats I preferred savoury snacks especially anything with fresh goat’s cheese which was really delicious.


As the weather became warmer and the cafés came alive with tourists, I found it amusing to see that everyone preferred to sit
outside the cafe and turn their chairs to face the road to watch the traffic and the pedestrians! Very few like myself preferred to sit indoors where it was less dusty and enjoy whatever we chose to eat. There was less restriction in those days for smokers so I only sat outside if there were too many smokers inside the café.

On Sundays when I couldn’t practise at the Residence I went to the Notre Dame Cathederal. I remember the first time I saw it when I stood at its front entrance. It was quite breathtaking in its immense height and whenever I revisited that Cathederal as well as other cathederals, I still marvel, until this day, as to how they were constructed. I was told that all the building material was carried up by sheer manpower! This was truly a labour of love and of faith of all those people who wanted to give their best to God hence their desire to build upwards as high as possible, almost as though one was reaching towards the skies. 


To enter the Cathederal the side doors, which were beside the massive main doors, were used, as the latter were immensely heavy and therefore only opened during important state occasions. Even the smaller side doors looked huge enough! I always felt as though we were all like ants as we stood in the inevitable queues to enter the Cathederal. Once inside, it took a few minutes to adapt to the darkness of the interior but this gloom only enhanced the beauty of the immense stained glass windows lit by the sunlight outside. These windows were remarkable works of art featuring a religious story or event or saintly persons from the Bible. Each piece of glass was individually crafted and coloured when molten, and then pieced together when cooled to form the completed window. I was told that during the world wars, to preserve this artistic heritage of these stained glass windows from the devastation of falling bombs and explosives, the people removed the entire window and painstainkingly dismantled each piece of glass which was carefully numbered and stored in the crypts below the cathederal and later reassembled when the wars were over. I have included a link at the end of this Chapter, on how these stained glass windows were made.

On Sundays when I couldn’t practise at the Residence I went to the Notre Dame Cathederal. I remember the first time I saw it when I stood at its front entrance. It was quite breathtaking in its immense height and whenever I revisited that Cathederal as well as other cathederals, I still marvel, until this day, as to how they were constructed. I was told that all the building material was carried up by sheer manpower! This was truly a labour of love and of faith of all those people who wanted to give their best to God hence their desire to build upwards as high as possible, almost as though one was reaching towards the skies. 


To enter the Cathederal the side doors, which were beside the massive main doors, were used, as the latter were immensely heavy and therefore only opened during important state occasions. Even the smaller side doors looked huge enough! I always felt as though we were all like ants as we stood in the inevitable queues to enter the Cathederal. Once inside, it took a few minutes to adapt to the darkness of the interior but this gloom only enhanced the beauty of the immense stained glass windows lit by the sunlight outside. These windows were remarkable works of art featuring a religious story or event or saintly persons from the Bible. Each piece of glass was individually crafted and coloured when molten, and then pieced together when cooled to form the completed window. I was told that during the world wars, to preserve this artistic heritage of these stained glass windows from the devastation of falling bombs and explosives, the people removed the entire window and painstainkingly dismantled each piece of glass which was carefully numbered and stored in the crypts below the cathederal and later reassembled when the wars were over. I have included a link at the end of this Chapter, on how these stained glass windows were made.

One Easter Sunday, just by chance, I went with friends to attend Mass at the Notre Dame and we were in for an unexpected treat because excerpts from Handel’s famous oratorio, The Messiah were performed live during the Mass which explained the reason why there was a huge press of people.

The central nave of the Cathedral was cordoned off for those who wished to pray or attend the religious services on Sundays or on weekdays at specified times. There were no pews, just plain wicker chairs neatly arranged in orderly rows. Meanwhile tourists and other visitors were allowed to walk all around the interior of the Cathedral in silence under the watchful eye of security personnel, and signs reminded one that this was a place of worship. I returned several times to the Notre Dame, both to pray as well as to view its vast interior where there were several smaller side chapels. 


On designated Sundays there were free organ recitals from 5.45 to 6.30pm by either visiting organists or by students who needed performance practice. The pipe organ loft was positioned quite high above the ground so no one ever saw the organist. One sat in the pews at the central nave and listened as the great pipes of the organ spoke, flooding the whole Cathederal with their sounds which bounced off the stone walls to echo into the vast ceiling above.  It was the first time I had heard a real pipe organ and was struck by the tones that rang out from its pipes which, when in full volume, just engulfed one in swirling reverberating sonority.


One Easter Sunday, just by chance, I went with friends to attend Mass at the Notre Dame and we were in for an unexpected treat because excerpts from Handel’s famous oratorio, The Messiah were performed live during the Mass which explained the reason why there was a huge press of people.

The central nave of the Cathederal was packed to capacity leaving only standing space next to the huge pillars so my friends and I squeezed ourselves wherever we could. I found myself at a vantage spot right where I could see both the magnificent Rose stained glass windows as well as the main altar, a real bird’s eye view! The Mass was officiated by the Cardinal of Paris himself, as well as his entourage of bishops and priests and the music of Handel’s famous Messiah was cleverly planned into the usual Liturgy of the Mass itself. That Easter Sunday remains forever etched in my memory. There were two choirs, a boys’ choir and an adult choir, an orchestra and the pipe organ! My favourite aria has always been, I know that my Redeemer liveth, and I can still recall that soloist’s beautiful soprano voice soaring and echoing into the lofty heights of the Notre Dame. And after the final Blessing by the Cardinal himself at the end of the Mass, the wonderful Hallelujah Finale rang out in jubilation and the voices of both choirs rose above the orchestra and the pipe organ and the pealing bells of the Cathederal. I can still see in my mind’s eye, that part of the Cathederal awash in beams of myriad shimmering colours from the stained glass windows as the full sunshine outdoors, streamed in. I remember sitting there completely mesmerised by the radiance of those huge Rose windows, and engulfed by the music from the singing of both the choirs, the orchestra and the pipe organ and after the last notes ended, the sound of the pealing bells of the Notre Dame Cathederal. For me it was a taste of Paradise.

On Sundays when I couldn’t practise at the Residence I went to the Notre Dame Cathederal. I remember the first time I saw it when I stood at its front entrance. It was quite breathtaking in its immense height and whenever I revisited that Cathederal as well as other cathederals, I still marvel, until this day, as to how they were constructed. I was told that all the building material was carried up by sheer manpower! This was truly a labour of love and of faith of all those people who wanted to give their best to God hence their desire to build upwards as high as possible, almost as though one was reaching towards the skies. 


To enter the Cathederal the side doors, which were beside the massive main doors, were used, as the latter were immensely heavy and therefore only opened during important state occasions. Even the smaller side doors looked huge enough! I always felt as though we were all like ants as we stood in the inevitable queues to enter the Cathederal. Once inside, it took a few minutes to adapt to the darkness of the interior but this gloom only enhanced the beauty of the immense stained glass windows lit by the sunlight outside. These windows were remarkable works of art featuring a religious story or event or saintly persons from the Bible. Each piece of glass was individually crafted and coloured when molten, and then pieced together when cooled to form the completed window. I was told that during the world wars, to preserve this artistic heritage of these stained glass windows from the devastation of falling bombs and explosives, the people removed the entire window and painstainkingly dismantled each piece of glass which was carefully numbered and stored in the crypts below the cathederal and later reassembled when the wars were over. I have included a link at the end of this Chapter, on how these stained glass windows were made.

The central nave of the Cathedral was cordoned off for those who wished to pray or attend the religious services on Sundays or on weekdays at specified times. There were no pews, just plain wicker chairs neatly arranged in orderly rows. Meanwhile tourists and other visitors were allowed to walk all around the interior of the Cathedral in silence under the watchful eye of security personnel, and signs reminded one that this was a place of worship. I returned several times to the Notre Dame, both to pray as well as to view its vast interior where there were several smaller side chapels. 


On designated Sundays there were free organ recitals from 5.45 to 6.30pm by either visiting organists or by students who needed performance practice. The pipe organ loft was positioned quite high above the ground so no one ever saw the organist. One sat in the pews at the central nave and listened as the great pipes of the organ spoke, flooding the whole Cathederal with their sounds which bounced off the stone walls to echo into the vast ceiling above.  It was the first time I had heard a real pipe organ and was struck by the tones that rang out from its pipes which, when in full volume, just engulfed one in swirling reverberating sonority.


One Easter Sunday, just by chance, I went with friends to attend Mass at the Notre Dame and we were in for an unexpected treat because excerpts from Handel’s famous oratorio, The Messiah were

performed live during the Mass which explained the reason why there was a huge press of people. The central nave of the Cathederal was packed to capacity leaving only standing space next to the huge pillars so my friends and I squeezed ourselves wherever we could. I found myself at a vantage spot right where I could see both the magnificent Rose stained glass windows as well as the main altar, a real bird’s eye view! The Mass was officiated by the Cardinal of Paris himself, as well as his entourage of bishops and priests and the music of Handel’s famous Messiah was cleverly planned into the usual Liturgy of the Mass itself. That Easter Sunday remains forever etched in my memory. There were two choirs, a boys’ choir and an adult choir, an orchestra and the pipe organ! My favourite aria has always been, I know that my Redeemer liveth, and I can still recall that soloist’s beautiful soprano voice soaring and echoing into the lofty heights of the Notre Dame. And after the final Blessing by the Cardinal himself at the end of the Mass, the wonderful Hallelujah Finale rang out in jubilation and the voices of both choirs rose above the orchestra and the pipe organ and the pealing bells of the Cathederal. I can still see in my mind’s eye, that part of the Cathederal awash in beams of myriad shimmering colours from the stained glass windows as the full sunshine outdoors, streamed in. I remember sitting there completely mesmerised by the radiance of those huge Rose windows, and engulfed by the music from the singing of both the choirs, the orchestra and the pipe organ and after the last notes ended, the sound of the pealing bells of the Notre Dame Cathederal. For me it was a taste of Paradise.

Detail of the Rose window at Notre Dame


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