Well, I went to visit some old friends last night. And can you believe it? I sat alone beside Winged Victory of Samothrace for several minutes! For me, this IS the Louvre and my absolute favorite (so far) display. (The Louvre stays open later on Wednesday and Friday nights; and 5:30 PM is evidently a break in the action. An hour later when I passed the Daru stairway, over which Winged Victory dramatically looks, there were many more people climbing up to see this treasure.)
Victoire de Samothrace, a marble sculpture of a winged woman poised on the prow of a ship, was unearthed by a French archaeologist on the island of Samothrace (Greece) in 1863 and has been at the Louvre ever since. She once stood on a hilltop to commemorate a naval victory possibly by Rhodes, which would date the statue between the period 220-190 BC. The sculptor is unknown. Her head and arms were never found; and some of the parts, like the right wing, have been reconstructed. Her open right hand, however, was found in Turkey in 1950 and is displayed in a glass case near the statue.
The Louvre (inside as well as outside) has a totally different feeling in the evening. Many rooms, especially those with sculptures, are well-lit; this draws your eyes to all the artwork in different corners of the room. In other passages and sweeping stairwells, the lights are kept very low allowing you to focus more on the ornate woodworking, painted ceiling murals, and gold decorations. Not only that, but in the darkened rooms on the museum’s perimeter, you’re drawn to the windows for a view of the lighted main pyramid in the front courtyard (the above photo was taken from an upper inside window).
When I. M. Pei designed the pyramid (as commissioned by President Francois Mitterrand and built in 1989), it caused much controversy because its modern look contrasted sharply with the classical architecture of the Louvre. Built entirely of metal and glass, it consists of 603 rhombus-shaped and 70 triangular glass segments (a total of 673, not 666, segments—an urban myth). I believe the French now accept and like it as a landmark for their capital city. I think it is magnifique!
Venus de Milo now has her very own room in which to pose and hold court. Thought to be a portrayal of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, she was discovered in 1820 on the Greek island of Melos. The statue was discovered in two pieces, the upper torso and the lower draped legs; her arms and hands have never been found.
And of course, since I was so close and she always deserves a visit, I had to enter the crazy room which displays Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. (Never a quiet time in this room.) There are no photos allowed anywhere where paintings are displayed (not even without the flash); and the Louvre staff has finally become very serious about this. The young lady in front of Mona wouldn’t even let a goofy (not American, for once) young man take her photo next to the sign depicting this rule. She yelled at someone else who aimed a camera at Mona—the yelling so vulgar in such a beautiful setting. Mona surprises you--mostly, I think, because she is very small—not at all the huge spectacle that you imagine. But she is Mona and she requires your presence. My favorite painting in this room (no, Mona doesn’t have her own room) is Paolo Veronese’s enormous painting, “The Marriage at Cana.” Very fun. It was sprinkling when I left the Louvre so most of my outside pictures, alas, have rain drops on them. But here’s one parting shot; there will be others. Mary, this one's for you: Antonio Canova's Pysche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.
By the way, when you’re tired of walking around the Louvre, this is your favorite sign.
Victoire de Samothrace, a marble sculpture of a winged woman poised on the prow of a ship, was unearthed by a French archaeologist on the island of Samothrace (Greece) in 1863 and has been at the Louvre ever since. She once stood on a hilltop to commemorate a naval victory possibly by Rhodes, which would date the statue between the period 220-190 BC. The sculptor is unknown. Her head and arms were never found; and some of the parts, like the right wing, have been reconstructed. Her open right hand, however, was found in Turkey in 1950 and is displayed in a glass case near the statue.
The Louvre (inside as well as outside) has a totally different feeling in the evening. Many rooms, especially those with sculptures, are well-lit; this draws your eyes to all the artwork in different corners of the room. In other passages and sweeping stairwells, the lights are kept very low allowing you to focus more on the ornate woodworking, painted ceiling murals, and gold decorations. Not only that, but in the darkened rooms on the museum’s perimeter, you’re drawn to the windows for a view of the lighted main pyramid in the front courtyard (the above photo was taken from an upper inside window).
When I. M. Pei designed the pyramid (as commissioned by President Francois Mitterrand and built in 1989), it caused much controversy because its modern look contrasted sharply with the classical architecture of the Louvre. Built entirely of metal and glass, it consists of 603 rhombus-shaped and 70 triangular glass segments (a total of 673, not 666, segments—an urban myth). I believe the French now accept and like it as a landmark for their capital city. I think it is magnifique!
Venus de Milo now has her very own room in which to pose and hold court. Thought to be a portrayal of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, she was discovered in 1820 on the Greek island of Melos. The statue was discovered in two pieces, the upper torso and the lower draped legs; her arms and hands have never been found.
And of course, since I was so close and she always deserves a visit, I had to enter the crazy room which displays Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. (Never a quiet time in this room.) There are no photos allowed anywhere where paintings are displayed (not even without the flash); and the Louvre staff has finally become very serious about this. The young lady in front of Mona wouldn’t even let a goofy (not American, for once) young man take her photo next to the sign depicting this rule. She yelled at someone else who aimed a camera at Mona—the yelling so vulgar in such a beautiful setting. Mona surprises you--mostly, I think, because she is very small—not at all the huge spectacle that you imagine. But she is Mona and she requires your presence. My favorite painting in this room (no, Mona doesn’t have her own room) is Paolo Veronese’s enormous painting, “The Marriage at Cana.” Very fun. It was sprinkling when I left the Louvre so most of my outside pictures, alas, have rain drops on them. But here’s one parting shot; there will be others. Mary, this one's for you: Antonio Canova's Pysche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.
By the way, when you’re tired of walking around the Louvre, this is your favorite sign.