Candide, indeed

OK, so Candide isn't set in France and I'm not rehearsing it in France.
But Voltaire was French, and even though the story starts in the imaginary land of Westphalia and continues all over a crazy unexplained world, as far as I am concerned, this still connects me to France.

I had no idea what Candide was about when I was invited to audition, all I knew was that the choreographer was near and dear to my heart, and I was elated at the prospect of working with her again.

When I got the official call that I was being offered Candide, I jumped around my apartment like a jackrabbit on crack. OMIGOD! I get to be on stage again! And in New York! At Lincoln Center! And I get to work with Patty Birch again!

Wow, what can I say. The rehearsal process is over and we've opened the show (if you're in NYC, you still have time to see it before we close on April 2oth...)

This has been such a wonderful experience. Our cast is so talented, as is the creative team and the often overlooked stage management and technical crew. And did I mention the 30 piece orchestra and the singing chorus? And the extremely talented actors and actresses who are our covers/understudies (who will sit patiently on beeper each night... waiting to be called in to perform a role that they have studied and rehearsed that may never be seen by the public) ?

The tech week at City Opera is different from the typical 'Broadway/regional theater' process, since we only get 3 1/2 hours on stage per day vs 10-12 hours that the theater community is used to. And we didn't hear the orchestra until the day before our final dress.

Hearing the orchestra for the first time was mesmerizing. The music that Leonard Bernstein composed for this show is so beautiful and in rehearsals we only had a pianist (who amazingly played the whole orchestra). I think I practically swooned in our first orchestra stage rehearsal from the shear beauty of it.

to be continued.....

Au revoir, France...and some good news for 2008

Ending a great trip is kind of like leaving your dearest love....the one who you know will always be there, but you never know when you will get to see them again.

And departure is pretty much uneventful, you get up, you get some breakfast, you go to the airport and then 'phhffft'......it all becomes just a beautiful memory.

But fate did put one pretty good dent in our departure day. As we were standing in line to check in, we were all ordered to leave the terminal because of a bomb scare. OK, typical NY'er (and from what I observed, probably typical Parisienne also), we were more annoyed than scared. Everyone took their sweet time exiting and vied to be closest to the original check-in line once the evacuation was over. Eventually, we were all deposited on the sidewalks outside and tried to get a handle on the situation.

Well, at least I got some entertainment during our wait. A few feet in front of us was a woman conversing with a sock puppet on her hand. Oh, this was a full-on conversation mind you. She even had the puppet talking into her cell phone and posing and taking pictures. I really wanted to get a photo of this little farce, but never did.

So this whole bomb scare was the result of a briefcase that had been left unattended. Hordes of policemen, security guards, bomb squads all descended upon the sad and lonely attache.

And then they blew it up.

A little piece of advice for you......don't forget your luggage a CDG.....you'll never see it again.

Somehow, we still managed to board the plane on time.

As I settled into my seat, I pulled out my little box from La Duree and bit into what was left of my chocolate and pistachio macarons from two days previous. My husband looked at me aghast and said "are you eating again?"

I replied, "No, I've been saving these last bites for just before we left Paris! I don't want our trip to end, and this is my way of tasting the last three weeks all over again."

************

We've been back from France for nearly 8 months now. A lot has happened, and we still don't have cemented plans for our return this year. We still hold on to our dreams of owning a little gite or B&B somewhere in the south. This is ten to fifteen years in the future, but it's fun to think about it now. We've stayed in touch with Marie and Jerome and are looking forward to seeing them again. We've attempted to make Cassoulet (well, DH tried this, on his own...and we're still looking to perfect the recipe). I've cooked dinners from my Provence cookbooks, trying to recapture the magic of it all.

The exchange rate has gotten worse and airfares have gotten out of control. So, as of today, we are hoping to return in September.

In the meantime, even though I can't physically go to France...in a way, I am visiting there in my imagination.

I am in rehearsals now for the New York City Opera's spring production of Candide!

Paris- part 2

Our last full day in Paris.

We started off the day with breakfast at the cafe around the corner. The outdoor market was in swing again today, and as luck would have it, there was even a vendor selling cheap suitcases. Oh God, had we become that kind of traveller?

Well, yes and no. We had tallied a good amount of wine to transport back to the US and were worried about packing it in our checked luggage. So the extra suitcase was our insurance in case anything might break en route...

But enough about the wine. We were still in Paris and I continue to fall deeper in love with this beautiful city each time we visit...and we didn't have much time left. Our favorite thing to do is just wander and experience, but we do try to do at least one 'cultural' thing each day. Today, we planned to visit the Musee de Picasso. We set off from the St Germain area towards the Musee, in the 3rd arrondissement. We eventually found the museum, bubbling with excitement in anticipation of experiencing this little treasure.....only to discover that it was closed on Tuesdays...and... it was a Tuesday. Yep. Got to do a little more planning and research for that next time in Paris. At least we weren't the only ones who didn't consult a guidebook. Two other couples arrived at the exact moment we did, and had the same reactions that we did. Merde! Zut alors! Eh, bien.


With open minds and open hearts, we continued our little stroll, trying to decide what our next option might be (as if the options in Paris might actually be limited, ha!). I would have been happy to wander all day. My husband is an eternal planner while I am happy to go with the flow. But somehow in France, my husband starts to relax and he can come over to the dark side of unplanned days.

As luck would have it, we stumbled across the Musee de Carnavalet. Our curiosities were peaked by posters for a photo exhibit, so we wandered inside.

Since there was no admission fee, this was a big hit with my DH, the self proclaimed 'cheap yankee'. The Carnavalet is a museum of the history of Paris and was a very pleasant surprise. My favorite room was the one dedicated to old shop signs, but a close second would be the gallery of impressionist to early 20th century paintings representing life in Paris.

After the Carnavalet, we continued our theme of wandering and with a brief respite to laze at Les Places des Vosges. Of course, I wanted to visit more shops. DH doesn't understand that even if I don't buy anything, that shopping is creative stimulation. I continued to find loads of creative stimulation and miraculously, my DH kindly indulged me.

Throughout the day, we exchanged phone messages with our friends we had met at Le Vallon in Provence, Marie and Jerome...setting up plans to meet for dinner that evening.

Plans were eventually settled to meet them at Cafe Metro, near the Bourse.

We had a lovely evening with Marie and Jerome. This is something I love about travel, that every once in a while, you meet people who become a part of your life. Good food (it was a fabulous meal, I can still taste the ravioli with truffles!) and good conversation with new friends...what else could we ask for???

I won't divulge our full conversation, in respect to their privacy, but something stuck with me when we started to discuss perceptions across the pond. I felt more akin to them than the pressures I felt from own culture. Could this be a sign of things to come?

Marie asked us if Americans perceived the French as lazy. Hmm. I had to admit that the American media does tend to portray them that way, but as far as we were concerned, the French have the right idea. In America (and especially in the career driven environs of NYC), I feel like our culture drives people to live to work- where as the French and the rest of Europe, in my small experience, generally hold to the ideal of working to live. Given the choice, I want the French option. I know these cultural norms are changing and unfortunately swinging towards the western values. Tres dommage.

When I returned the question, and asked about the perceptions of Americans in France I was not at all surprised by their answer. In general, they said the perception was not good. We all had a laugh, since we all knew that general perceptions are deceiving (no matter how true they can be), especially to those who have not travelled or experienced different cultures with an open mind.

It was bittersweet, bidding our new friends adieu. Not that we would never see or hear from them again, but that tonight was pretty much the end to our adventures in France for 2007.

Paris 2007

Paris photos, last two days 2007

Our last two days- in Paris

OK, it's been a really long time since our trip. My notes are sparse so I am trying to piece it all together.

It was pretty uneventful taking the TGV back up to Paris from Montpellier. On time, speedy and we had reservations at the same hotel in Paris.

Once we checked in to the hotel, it was off to see and experience more of Paris that we hadn't seen before. Well, maybe that's a little white lie. DH had actually acquiesed to my desire to SHOP in Paris this time. On our last trip, I had hoped to do a little shopping on our last day. Alas, we weren't thinking, and all the shops were closed when we arrived (tip for newbie travellers who like to shop- don't plan to shop on a Sunday in Europe) and hit me with a reality stick- last year we were even in Paris during the bi-annual soldes (sales). Lack of government sales and shitty dollar to the euro exchange rate be damned, I was still going shopping.

Even though I have an extreme aversion to large department stores, we ended up at Les Galleries Lafayette (Macy's in NYC gives me hives). I've never done research on shopping or anything else for that matter regarding Paris (except for hotels and restos) before our trips, so I had no idea where to begin looking for interesting boutiques/shops. And, dear reader, my husband has an extreme aversion to shopping. So a one stop smorgasbord was deemed to be the best solution.

Now, when in France- I pretty much want to buy everything. OK, my consumptionist side is revealing itself. But hey, I only get to visit here once a year...and there's a bit of the safari mentality cursing through my veins. No I don't have a budget to buy everything, or even several things. But this girl is a girl and she likes to be a girl. And the French like to make a girl feel like a girl.

My husband lasted about 15 minutes in the store (a record for him) before he announced that he was going to visit the Paris Opera while I shopped. He had worked there years ago, while on tour in Europe. While it was tempting to join him...I decided it would be better to remain at Les Galleries- ogling one pretty frock and the next and the next and the next. I eventually found a sundress that satiated my ooh-la-la french envy, plunked down the CC and did the virtual ostrich head in the sand thing regarding the actual price in dollars vs euros.

On to the next item on my agenda. It was time to head to La Duree for macarons. If you've been oh so patiently following this blog from the beginning, you will remember I was on a bit of a macaron treasure hunt- courtesy of moi and my friend Cynthia's sometime obsession with them. DH kindly escorted me to the La Duree on the Champs d'Elysee. Once I entered the golden gates, he noticed the glazed look in my eye and promptly said, "Take your time, I'll be waiting for you across the street in the pub.". Ooh! The choices, beckoning and calling my name. All those pretty little pastries, so lovingly coaxed into being, dressed in their finest to beguile a sucker like me.

There were too many choices in front of me. If I were lucky enough to live in Paris, I would probably have insisted on returning at least once a week, to sample the divine pastries available for the choosing. But, the macaron mission kept me on task. I selected a dozen minis to take back to NYC for Cynthia (and moi) to taste test. Chocolate, Violet, Lemon, Strawberry, Mocha, Pistachio,...ooh lah lah. For myself, I selected two full sized macarons, to be consumed in France. I chose a chocolate and a pistachio. After choosing my treasures, I patiently waited in line, while the shopgirls prettily boxed them, I paid my tab and then joined my husband across the street.

Too shy to break into them right in the store, this was the moment I had been waiting for- were they worth it? Well, honies, let's just say that the first bite was all of heaven and the best part of hell combined. If my husband had asked me to choose between him and the macaraons at that point, it would have been a hard decision. Yes Virginia, La Duree macarons are worth every cent you spend and each inch you travel to taste them.

Having fed the girl kitty, it was my turn to be the big man. DH suggested we go to La Defense and see the Eiffel tower from a new view. A quick hop and stop on the Metro and we were there. Neither of us was awed by La Defense. We were both amused/intrigued by the gypsies trolling for scams. The view of the Eiffel tower was lovely. And then we were done. I'm sure we're missing some huge significance here, but these were our impressions.

It was getting to be that time of day, so dinner options were discussed. I was all in favor of a nice dinner at a local bistro of cafe, but my husband was heavily leaning towards a picnic. Since the saintly spousal points were leaning towards my husband, we both agreed to assemble a picnic.

We amassed at bevy of food from the tiny grocer around the corner from the hotel Studia. And of course, I needed a little more sustenance (some calamare some gigantes), so supplemented from a Greek vendor in the neighborhood. Grabbed a bottle of wine and headed down to the Seine, right in the shadows of Notre Dame.

I've wanted to picnic on the Seine since I lived in Europe over ten years ago. Never got around to it, tonight was the night.

We spread out the blanket, laid out our meal and uncorked the wine. There were several other couples partaking in the same lovely experience. As the tourist boats sped by, it was fun to be toasted by the people on the boats and even more fun to pretend that we were 'real Parisiennes', raising our glasses and wishing a bon soir in return. But eventually, the way we started our trip, was the way our trip would draw to and end. Ah yes, as Fanny Brice sang in Funny Girl, it started to "Rain on our Parade". We huddled underneath the bridge with about a six other couples, as the rain came down and we waited to make our hasty retreat back to Hotel Studia.

One more day, and then we would have to leave our dear France.

Photos- Montpellier 2007

Montpellier photos

Adios Spain, we're heading back to France

Hopefully the trip part of this blog will be finished before the next trip.....

We left Spain, bidding adios to our hosts Martha and Katie and headed back up to France. Since we would be taking the TGV back to Paris from the south, we had decided to spend the night in Montpellier. A second option would have been driving back to Avignon and heading north, but we wanted to see a city we hadn't visited before. So Montpellier it was.

Katie and Martha had warned us that driving in and out of Montpellier was a nightmare. Of course we heeded their advice, but we had no idea what we were in for. DH was prepared with all the necessary maps, carefully organized into the official "TRIP FOLDER", including detailed printouts from mappy.com. But as the old saying goes...the one about best laid plans of mice and men....

We spent over an hour and a half trying to navigate the streets of Montpellier, desperate to arrive at our hotel, maybe even get to sleep in the room we had already paid for and drop off the car before our train was to leave the next morning. I can't count the number of times we ran into dead ends, streets on the map disappeared from the reality of our fruitless navigation or one way streets forced us into a drive of slow and painful water-drip torture death where we would end up at our starting point over and over again.

Somehow, we managed to finally arrive at our hotel, the Hotel du Parc. The hotel was very pretty and our room was spacious and charming. After hauling our suitcases to our room, DH took off to return the rental car. Thankfully, the concierge gave him concise driving directions to the train station and advised him on which tram would bring him back to the hotel.

Travel busy-business over and done, it was time to explore Montpellier.

We left the hotel and began our explorations at the Place du Comedie. By now, it was 2pm on a Sunday afternoon, so even if we had wanted to go gangbusters, it just wasn't going to happen. We wandered through the pretty Jardin des Plantes. There was an odd art installation which we didn't find visually appealing. But once we realized that it was in honor of a wine rebellion that we had read about in Narbonne, we were amused and a wee proud of ourselves for being able to know about a little obscure (to us) piece of the history and culture of southern France.

It was a wandering kind of day. I think we pretty much covered most of central Montpellier. We took time to visit the Antigone district, which reminded us both of Battery Park City in NYC. Seen it, done it, next. Exploring historic Montpellier was enjoyable. Most shops and sites were closed, but the architecture, the pretty white buildings and white-washed cobblestone streets were pleasant. We seemed to keep meandering back to the same little square, where we took a time out at a cafe to soak it all in (and rest our weary legs...). Regathering our momentum over wine and little snacks, the atmosphere was nice and relaxed. Most of the patrons seemed to know each other and the waitstaff. Nearby, some preteen boys attempted to practice a bit of soccer greatness.

Next, we promenaded our way over to the Promenade du Peyroux. From a distance, it looked quite eloquent. Up close and personal, this seemed to be the rastafarian and bohemiam-stoner-student-trustafarian hang out section of Montpellier. Nothing wrong with that...I can appreciate an alternative view of life. It's just that there was so much trash and so many broken bottles strewn about. It seemed a shame in light of the beautiful monument and how beautiful park could be if it were kept cleaner. Peace out dude, but put your trash where it belongs.

We did alot more wandering, and eventually came to the dinner hour. We chose to eat at Bistrot Gourmand, which had the most interesting menu in our budget for the evening. I had some kind of salad with duck breast and DH also had a salad, based around goat cheese. Our meal was quite lovely and and we got to sit outside in a quite square under pretty lights.

Our vacation was drawing to an end. Each time we know we are about to leave southern France, we get a little sad. There's just something so magical about this region. Neither of us wanted to leave.

After dinner, we headed back to Hotel du Parc, and shared one last bottle of wine in the courtyard (hell, we had to, we couldn't take all of our travelling cave back to the US.) before falling into bed.