The Show Must Go On ….. And It Did!!!
Bienvenue and welcome back to Musée Musings, your idiosyncratic guide to Paris and art. Like most of you, I watched the Opening Ceremonies of the Jeux Olympiques (JO) on television. In Paris, the ceremonies started at 19h30 (7:30 p.m.) and went on, and on and on until 23h30 (11:30 p.m.). In Paris, probably unlike most of you, I watched the ceremonies with very few and very brief commercial interruptions.
If you were lucky enough to score a ticket to see the ceremony, you were stuck in one place, in the rain, watching a monitor to see whatever was happening where you weren’t. Alas with the rain, some of the outdoor monitors stopped working. Tant pis.
It was raining where I was too, but I was inside and the cameras that followed the action for me, worked. I had snack and bathroom breaks as needed. And I stayed dry. Just saying.
There were months and months of discussion about whether, in this day and age, an outdoor ceremony covering the length of the Seine, the spine of the city of Paris, wasn’t just impossibly complicated but extremely dangerous. Pundits and prognosticators predicted doom. The risk of a terrorist ‘event’ in Paris has been as high as it ever goes, level ‘urgence attentat,’ for what seems like forever. The evening before the opening ceremonies, the fast train lines, the TGVs, were sabotaged. Train travel on France’s high speed trains ground to a halt - canceled or delayed or run on slower rails. People who planned to take the Eurostar from London to Paris for the opening ceremony couldn’t make the trip, at least not by train.
Was it, we all wondered, a taste of what was in store or had it happened because the country’s resources were focused on protecting Paris. Leaving the rest of the country and its infrastructure vulnerable. Then the second level of questioning began. Who had been able to pull off so many well orchestrated, simultaneous attacks. Some think it was the extreme left. Others are convinced that something as sophisticated as sabotaging the TGV lines could only have been carried out by a group with much greater knowledge than the extreme left has. Those people are sure that it was a foreign government. Maybe Putin’s Russia. We don’t know yet.
Back to the ceremony. Do you think an Opening Ceremony like the one we witnessed in Paris could have been held in any other city? It would have to be an old city, a photogenic city, a city with lots of monuments, fairly close to each other. A city that grew organically, along a river, before trains and airplanes dramatically changed how people get from place to place. One thing is certain, the bold thinking required to conceptualize such a tour de force happened in Paris, the City of Light.
The weather probably couldn’t have been worse. But as athletes and performers know, perhaps better than the rest of us, the show must go on! And it did.
One hundred boats carrying 10,500 athletes sailed along the Seine. (Fig 1) So many athletes, from every imaginable sport were invited to join the ceremonies. Many of you will recognize many more of those athletes than I did. Many athletes who weren’t affiliated with the Olympics at all, were there. For example, France’s beloved footballer, Zinedine Zidane, was one of the stars of the opening ceremonies. And at the very end of a very long procession of athletes assembled to carry the flame, there was a man who was born 100 years ago, in 1924, the last time Paris hosted the Olympics. An ancient Olympian, I hope he didn’t catch cold as he sat there in his wheel chair. (Fig 2) Cold, rainy weather is not recommended for the elderly!
Figure 1. The Opening Ceremony flotilla
Figure 2. The oldest living Olympian, born in 1924, a century ago
The professor in me was delighted to see that as the ceremony unfolded, the themes were identified. Fraternity, Sorority, Sportsmanship, Solidarity, Solemnity and Eternity. And through it all, there were ‘high’ art references and popular art references; historical references and cultural references. There was a raucous metal rock fashion show and a most solemn celebration of sorority. Feminism, gender fluidity and a joyful sense of diversity AND inclusion.
Lady Gaga’s song and dance routine on one of the quays of the Seine got the show started. (Fig 3) The song was Mon Truc en Plume (‘I have a thing for feathers’ or maybe plume here refers to pens - not sure). But there were definitely feathers galore! This song was made popular in the 1960s by Zizi Jeanmaire. Even though I didn’t know the song, I knew the name because of another song, ‘Where Do You Go To (My Lovely)’ sung by Peter Sarstedt that I first heard in Wes Anderson’s film, Darjeeling Limited. In that song, he sings about Zizi Jeanmaire dancing. Lady Gaga’s costume apparently replicated Zizi Jeanmaire’s when she sang the song. Since the Quai was so wet and slippery, the dancing was modified to fit the conditions. And even that couldn’t prevent one of the dancers from taking a fall. (Fig 4)
Figure 3. Lady Gaga singing (and dancing) Mon Truc en Plume
Figure 4. One of Lady Gaga’s male dancers fell, everything was so slippery
Other iconic songs and dances were performed along the Seine. A solitary accordionist played a melancholy tune. (Fig 5) A group of cancan dancers all dressed in pink, with the Moulin Rouge behind them, didn’t kick as high as they might have had the weather cooperated. (Fig 6) And ballerinas on stilts swayed back and forth to their own dance. (Fig 7)
Figure 5. Accordion Player at Opening Ceremony
Figure 6. Cancan dancers ala Moulin Rouge
Figure 7. Swaying on sticks in front of La Samarataine department store
At the end of the ceremony Celine Dion belted out l’Hymne a l’Amour, (If you love me, really love me), an Edith Piaf song from the 1950s. Standing erect on the Eiffel Tower, (Fig 8) Celine Dion’s appearance was a miracle, suffering as she has been for the past few years from a rare illness called Stiff Person Disease, which is both the name of the disease and its symptom.
Figure 8. Celine Dion singing Hymne a l’Amour on Eiffel Tower
In between Lady Gaga and Celine Dion, the mezzo-soprano, Axelle Saint-Cirel dressed like Liberty in Delacroix’s iconic painting, 'Liberty Leading the People,’ sang an eerily beautiful Les Marseillaise. (Fig 9, Fig 9a) As she sang the French national anthem on the roof of the Grand Palais, the theme Sorority unfolded. Ten golden statues arose from bases along the Seine. On each was a different French women, a tribute to the history of women in France. The women represented went from 14th century Christine de Pisan to 20th century Simone Weil. (Figs 10, 11) There were politicians and scientists, authors and artists, intellectuals and anarchistsf.
Figure 9. Axelle Saint-Ciel singing Les Marseillaise on the roof of the Grand Palais (dressed in Dior)
Figure 9a. Liberty Leading the People, Eugene Delacroix
Figure 10. Christine de Pizan (writer)
Figure 11. Simone Veil (politician)
As Juliette Armanet sang John Lennon’s song ‘Imagine,’ (Fig 12) the words “We Stand and Call for Peace” in both English and French appeared on a screen. Peace, along with diversity and inclusivity were the dominant themes of the JO. The particular performance of another song that I’ll tell you about in a moment, spoke specifically to what that means when it is applied in real time in front of you and me and everyone else who was watching the ceremony.
Figure 12. Juliette Armanet singing ‘Imagine,’ John Lennon
Did you notice the heads bobbing around on the Seine as the ceremony began? One was from a painting called “Gabrielle d’Estrées et une de ses soeurs” (1575/1600). A couple of nipple tweaking gals, one of whom was the mistress of Henri IV. (Figs 13, 14) Another bobbing head was from another painting, by Georges de la Tour, called, ‘The Cheat with the Ace of Diamonds.’ (Figs 15, 16) Then there was the woman depicted in Marie-Guillemine Benoist’s, “The Portrait of the Black Woman” (1800). (Fig 17) And also the page from Mohammad Qasim’s 1627, “The Portrait of Shah Abbas I and his page.” (Fig 18) They’re all at the Louvre!
Figure 13. Gabrielle d’Estrées et une de ses soeurs” (1575/1600), Fontainebleau School
Figure 14. Gabrielle d’Estrées et une de ses soeurs” (1575/1600) Fontainebleau School
Figure 15. ‘The Cheat with the Ace of Diamonds.’ Georges de la Tour
Figure 16. ‘The Cheat with the Ace of Diamonds.’ Georges de la Tour
Figure 17. “The Portrait of the Black Woman,” Marie-Guillemine Benoist
Figure 18. “The Portrait of Shah Abbas I and his page.” Mohammad Qasim, 1627,
The Louvre made a second appearance, this time in one of the pre-filmed segments. The Nike of Samothrace, the Venus of Milos and the Mona Lisa all took a bow. Actually the first two women looked surprised and Mona Lisa had already left the room. Other paintings, usually of people in landscapes had become landscapes only, when the figures in them took (I’m sure) a much needed break.
Another of the pre-filmed segments was much longer and kept reappearing. It was the journey of the flame through the city to the cauldron which had to be lit so the Olympic Games could officially begin. We came back to it again and again throughout the evening. One of the segments included Zidane handing the flame to three children (Fig 19) whose journey took them through the fabled catacombs where rows and rows of skulls stared vacantly ahead. Then the children handed the flame to a masked, hooded and costumed torchbearer/stuntman. (Fig 20) The inspiration for his costume? Maybe Belphégor from the Iron Mask, or Fantomas from the “Phantom of the Opera,” or Ezio from “Assassin's Creed.” Or even Arsène Lupine. The daredevil flame carrier shared billing with the famed rooftops of Paris along which he scampered. (Fig 21) And when he was through running, he gave the torch back to Zidane. (Fig 22)
Figure 19. The hand of Zidane passing the Flame to the Three Children
Figure 20. The Three Children about to hand over the flame to the masked and costumed runner
Figure 21. The Assassin’s Creed running high above Paris
Figure 22. The Masked & Hooded runner handing the flame to Zidane
Along with the bobbing heads from paintings, there was another series of heads, not floating this time, but held by the person upon whose neck they had once sat. They were in front of the Conciergerie, where Marie Antoinette was imprisoned and from where she was transported on a cart to be guillotined. All of these headless women wore the same blood red dress. At one moment, streaks of blood splattered everything. A not very discrete reminder of France’s own bloody past. (Figs 23 - 25)
Figure 23. Headless Marie Antoinette holding her head, Conciergerie
Figure 24. The windows of the Conciergerie filled with Headless Marie Antoinettes holding their heads
Figure 25. Blood streaming and a boat passing in front of the Conciergerie
But most of France’s bloody history was not referenced, the battles won and lost by Napoleon, the 1848 overthrow of Louis Philipe, the 1871 Prussian Occupation of Paris, the more recent occupation of Paris by the Nazis. Perhaps the horrific decapitations during the French Revolution and the downfall in 1830 of one king (Charles X) (referenced by Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People) only to be replaced by another (Louis Philipe) whose own downfall happened only 18 years later, was enough to sum up France’s violent history.
Another historical (?) event that was not alluded to was Christ’s Last Supper. Maybe the scene was over the top, but Bacchanalias are, as you can see in this example by Rubens. It was definitely Bacchanalian, not Christian (Figs 26 - 28).
Figure 26. Philippe Katerine, singing during a Bacchanalia
Figure 27. Bacchanalia, Peter Paul Rubens, 1615
Figure 28. The comparison you could find everywhere on the internet which wasn’t very convincing …
Finally, for the past few months there has been considerable controversy surrounding the probability that a French singer, Aya Nakamura. who was born in Mali, was going to be performing at the Opening Ceremonies. She wasn’t French enough the critics cried. You’re being racists, the rest of us replied. On Friday, those who doubted were offered a Lesson in Civics. The theme was Inclusivity. As the Republican Guard Band in their dress uniforms, (Fig 29) walked in one direction, playing their instruments, Aka Nakamura and her back up dancers, dressed in gold, made their way in the opposite direction, singing and dancing (Fig 30). When they met on Pont des Artes, they meshed. Instead of conflict there was conviviality, instead of confrontation there was cooperation. The uniformed guardsmen began boogying. The leader of the band definitely had the moves. At the very end, Aya and her dancers saluted. (Figs 31, 32) The critics were outraged, Aya’s fans and everybody on Tiktok was overjoyed. The military band members confirmed that they hadn’t been told who they would be meeting for the dance moves they were practicing. People are calling for the bridge to be renamed Pont Aya. Which just proves if you are receptive to difference, it will embrace you. If not, well that’s just too bad for you.
Figure 29. Republican National Band
Figure 30. Aya Nakamura and her dancers
Figure 31. Aya Nakamura & Republican Band meeting
Figure 32. Aya Nakamura & Dancers saluting
Responsible for all of this was a 42 year old actor and director, Thomas Jolly. A fellow for whom the word ‘NO’ is probably not used much or maybe at all. He worked with the choreographer, Maud le Pladec, six years his senior. Bravo tous les deux.
Gros bisous, Dr. B.
Thanks so much to those of you who have taken time to send a Comment. They are much, much appreciated.
New Comments on Parisian Potpourri &/or Horsing Around
Hi, Beverly, Well done! Just to say I think your last musings were the best I have seen. The mix of food and culture was just right. I would like to say that when the kids lived at home I used to make excellent lemon meringue pies, but now there is just the two of us I rarely bake. Polly, Paris
Dr. B- Your Essay of Today. Rather too long….do consider lengths for future essays.
Enjoyed the story about the Phd dissertation examination IDing stamps….🤣
And all five male professors …., Bill, Ohio
New comments on Man’s (original) Best Friend:
This looks a fascinating exhibition. Thank you for giving us this insight into all things horse. I only wish they'd added a maquette of the amazing Sequana riding down the Seine too. Katherine, Oxford
Dr. B, thanks for the shots of Paris pre-JO and for the tour of this exhibition. It’s one I’d never think of visiting, but you made it so very interesting …felt I was there ! Nikki
New comment on Measure of Man, Critical Mass II:
Thank you so much, Ekaterina
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