Paris Journal 2010 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com

Photos and thoughts about Paris

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Getting the PDF file for our return trip tickets from Agen next week nearly drove me out of my mind. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that SNCF (the French national train company) and their web site leave a lot to be desired. But we now have our tickets, and we’re going, for two nights. In the meantime, last night we walked up to the ancient Ile de la Cité and had dinner at Le Caveau du Palais on the charming Place Dauphine with John and Linda. It was a great success, and it was fun to spend an evening with these dear friends. The restaurant and its quirky hyperactive patronne were the same as always, serving great food, with officious servers. Tom and I started with green salad and Burgundy escargots, and then three of us had the special of the day, slices of delicious, tender mignon de porc stuffed with plums and served with a nice, rich demi-glace sauce. Each plate’s outer edge was lined with little slices of sautéed zucchini. John had the sautéed veal and vegetables, which looked great. Tom and I shared a baba au rhum for dessert. We highly recommend Le Caveau du Palais. The food is very good (not inexpensive, though), especially if you order the daily special, and the setting is historic and charming as can be. The only weird thing was that someone’s medium size dog was roaming about the restaurant, and the staff didn’t do anything about it except for when the dog started to eat a steak tartare that was sitting on a side table. I gasped in horror, the bartender noticed, and he grabbed the plate and took it back in the direction of the kitchen. The dog followed him. The patronne didn’t seem to be agreeing much with the officious server about anything. The bartender seemed to enjoy listening to our conversation at our table (his English was perfect). After dinner, we went back through the Place Dauphine, crossed the Seine on Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris, and went down the rue Dauphine until we reached the Hotel Aubusson with its Café Laurent and Christian Brenner’s live jazz. We explained to John and Linda that we wanted to stop and listen for a while, and that they’d be welcome to join us. They did stay for a little while, but they are off early today for a trip to Bonn to see a museum. So we stayed longer. The “café,” which serves only drinks (no food) is named for the server, Laurent, who is more of a butler than a server. His profile in caricature graces each paper coaster in the café. He also serves drinks to people in the hotel’s swishy lobby. When we showed the likeness of Laurent on the coaster to John, then pointed to Laurent himself, John laughed and Laurent noticed. Laurent smiled and put his finger to his lips, as if to say “now don’t tell anyone that’s me!” Funny guy. When Christian saw my big, dangling clef note earrings, he smiled. He also allowed an extraordinarily talented young pianist to take his place for the first part of the last set. It became clear that Christian didn’t know who this young man was at all. He simply allowed him to play. It was a good decision, as it turned out, but I marveled at Christian’s generosity. Most musicians in charge of a group would not have taken such a risk when playing at a place like Hotel Aubusson. Christian also smiled benevolently when the young man started to play. As usual, Christian had different invitées playing with him. These are young musicians whom he does know, and with whom he arranges to play on particular nights. A heavy-set young man was playing the bass very, very well. A young, swarthy drummer played in the newer, linear fashion that makes it hard for many people to hear the beat. But it is fascinating. And I do hear the beat. My right foot tapped right along on 2 and 4. I could have played the high-hat for him with my right foot, and I might as well have because he didn’t play the high-hat much at all, with his linear drumming. There was a huge amount of improvisation going on, and Linda said she just gets lost in that. She used to play piano. But she cannot hear the melody when the jazz musicians are improvising as they were last night. I always hear the melody in my head, no matter how much these guys improvise. Tom says it is because I have a “good ear.” I don’t think it is necessarily good or bad, it is just different. I think different people’s brains are wired differently, and some musicians can improvise while some can’t, and some people can still hear the melody through the improvisation and some can’t. I don’t think this has anything to do with talent, necessarily, but rather it is some sort of pre-programming that we cannot change much. It is great to hear jazz so well appreciated and played so well in Paris. Sometimes Tom and I worry that it will die. But as long as there are musicians like Christian Brenner in great cities like Paris performing in prime locations like the Hotel Aubusson, it will not die. Christian’s generous encouragement of young musicians helps a lot, too. Sign my guestbook. View my guestbook. Note: For addresses & phone numbers of restaurants in this journal, click here. And here’s the 2009 Paris Journal.

Friday, September 17, 2010 Altar at the Saint Merry church near Beaubourg in the 4^th arrondissement. Carved wood pulpit of the Saint Merry church. This church, unlike the nearby St. Jacques de la Boucherie, was not destroyed in the Revolution. I think the reason is that the members of Saint Merry were not as well-to-do as the members of Saint Jacques. Also, the welcoming spirit of Saint Merry’s, which is noticeable today, may have had something to do with its survival. ← Previous Next →