Château Versailles: Experiences as a modern day courtier

Château Versailles: My experience as a modern day courtier

[The gilded front gate of the Palace Versailles]

     The château of Versailles is one of the most remarkable displays of wealth in the modern world. Situated a modest distance from the French capital city, this world-famous destination represents the epitome of decadence – which is incredible considering it is over three centuries old.  Even in today’s world, which is filled with glorious architecture and overwhelming displays of wealth (see cities like Dubai and Shanghai) Versailles and its grounds continue to amaze the thousands of tourists who walk through its gilded gates every day. If we consider the fact that today’s society still marvels over this aging European spectacle, one can only imagine the effect it had on those who lived and functioned within its walls during the palace’s time of prominence.

[An artist's depiction of Versailles during the reign of Louis XIV (photo courtesy of The Met. Museusm of Art.)]

     Versailles is probably best known as the royal dominion of the French monarchy under Louis XIV. Beginning in the mid-17^th century, Louis XIV and his court of more than one thousand courtiers lodged at the decadent château Versailles, which contains more than seven hundred rooms. Despite the abundance of money, servants, and “the royal treatment”, life here was extremely stressful for just about everyone except the le Roi Soleil. In fact, like the sun itself, the days at the palace Versailles virtually rose and set around Louis. Each of these thousand courtiers stumbled hands over feet to please the king’s every whim. Throngs of nobles, eager to gain royal favor, waited in line outside the royal bedchamber every morning to catch a glimpse of the lever du roi (for non-francophones, that’s literally the moment the kings gets out of bed.) Courtiers also watched him go to sleep, eat, play billiards, and even go to the bathroom – all while staying within the strictest lines of etiquette. However, many nobles struggled to keep up with ever-changing trends in manners, daily routine and even fashion. To falter outside these guidelines meant exclusion from the castle, loss of noble title and perhaps even forfeit of possessions. Despite the immense amount of pride and wealth that comes with being a staple at Versailles, many men lost their fortunes and livelihoods chasing the dream of acceptance. When one subtracts the decadence, ornate architectural features and priceless artwork that adorn every inch of usable space, the walls of the palace take on a repressive, almost demanding demeanor. While standing in the accessible rooms of Versailles as an easy-going tourist with a camera, it’s necessary to remember just how incredibly taxing it would have been to live here for a single day.

[A decadent corner piece, surrounded by priceless paintings, is just an example of the detail that lines every inch of Versailles.]

     Fortunately, Versailles offers an equally luxurious place to escape these daily tribulations – the world-famous palace gardens. These gardens, which stretch miles beyond the bounds of the main building, are equally as ornate and perhaps even more impressive than the chateau itself. A man-made water feature (which is deceptively immense) is surrounded by a maze of property including thousands of decorative topiaries, more than four hundred marble statues, two mini-châteaux, and several additional private gardens. In this historical period, palace gardens served as a place for nobles to stroll and walk during the beautiful spring and summer months whether it be with their families, mistresses, or both. Speaking as one who has now twice visited these grounds, it would be nearly impossible to see everything in one visit. As such, a stressed courtier could spend an afternoon decompressing in the gardens for a month and never visit the same spot twice. Considering the insurmountable pressure of trying to keep up behavioral codes inside the chateau, these gardens became a priceless refuge for the many courtiers fighting that cyclical battle for royal favor. Inside the walls, every facet of life was subject to the most minute scrutiny. However, a simple stroll in the gardens allowed one to breathe deeply, listen to the sounds of the fountains and birds, and forget the tumult that awaited you upon your return.

[The château seen from the palace gardens.]

As I sat on the sweltering RER train en route back to Paris, I couldn’t help but realize how closely my experience at Versailles mirrored the lifestyle present there in the mid to late 17^th century. Touring the inside of the château is breathtaking. However, due to the immense crowding and meticulous security, the tour is also quite overwhelming. Once your self-guided tour begins, there is only one route for visitors to take – a single path that leads from room to room to room until the end of the tour. This elegant one-way street is often cornered off with retractable barriers to remind the curious wanderer of the correct path. Any guest who attempts to reverse into a previous room after leaving (perhaps to gaze again at a beautiful painting or take another look at the elegantly staged furniture) is sternly reminded by a château employee that il faut avancer – keep moving forward. There is such an employee reminding all guests of the correct etiquette stationed in just about every room. Towards the end of the tour, visitors have the option to stop by café Angelina for some world famous hot chocolate. Yet even at this small watering hole, visitors must sit down and finish their drinks or meals before heading back into the halls of the château. Once finished with the entire tour guests are funneled down a beautiful stone staircase, through the giftshop, and out the door. By the time I made it to the bottom floor, I had had just about enough of the interior of the castle.

[Versailles' famed "Hall of Mirrors"]

     However, what awaited me outside was beyond spectacular. The freedom that I found in the boundless gardens was an absolute breath of fresh air compared to the stifling, regulated pace of the château’s interior. After a delicious lunch, I decided to follow a random footpath that circled long and wide around the sparkling pond. Along my stroll, I encountered a family of cranky swans, some heat-subdued ducks, and spent a mile or so walking with the sun on my face. This short stroll brought me to a completely secluded knoll where I stretched out to read. Without realizing I had fallen asleep, I awoke shortly thereafter to find myself gazing across a beautiful vista and pond – no stressful château in sight. On my return to the palace, I (and about a hundred strangers) stopped to marvel at the one of a kind fountain which was exploding streams of water at full force – a treat that, as I later learned, only happens several days of the year. Soon the day began to pass and I decided it was high-time to head back to Paris.

[The gilded fountain of Versailles in action.]

     As I elbowed my way through the crowds surrounding the chateau exit, I felt the pressure and sensation of frustration rise in me again. Why are more than ¾ of the rooms here inaccessible? Who made it so one isn’t allowed to explore at their own free will? And what’s with all the selfie sticks? Luckily, all I had to do was remember my relaxing day in the gardens to bring myself back town to a reasonable level of calm. Just about three hundred years ago, only the noblest of the noble could lay eyes on these grounds. Today, I woke up refreshed and relaxed on the very same lawns, surrounded by good friends and serenity. Take that, authoritarian monarchy!

*all photographs (unless mentioned otherwise) are property of the author and will be treated as such*

The Impressionist Rebellion: My visit to the Musée d’Orsay and Giverny

The Musée d’Orsay: Rebels on the fifth floor

[View from the fifth floor of the Musée d’Orsay]

     It can sometimes be difficult to imagine art as a form of rebellion. For example, modern society often associates “painting” and especially “painters” with the attitudes of the refined upper-class and all things prim and proper. Thankfully (for me), this is not always the case. In my studies, I have learned that art has transformed from the perfect image of society to its antithesis. I am writing today to tell you about the impressionist rebellion on the fifth floor of the Musée d’Orsay.

      Beginning in the mid to late 19^th century, a new form of art began to take form. This new style of art came kicking and screaming into the world to the sounds of staunch criticism, mainly due to its stark contrast with the “academic style” of art which was globally accepted as “good” painting.” At this time, paintings deemed to be “acceptable” (accepted by an academy or presented for royalty, for example) focused mainly on realistic imagery such as historical scenes or religious depictions. Images were lifelike, mimicking the human form as closely as possible They also included intricate details and precise color choices. Artists sought to remove themselves from their work leaving few traces of personality or intended craft – as if their work was being seen by the human eye itself. Painters of a new “impressionist” style, such as Claude Monet  and Edgar Degas (perhaps the most famous in the Musée d’Orsay) have since become some of the most celebrated painters in world history – all because they decided to bend the rules a little. Monet, while likely not the first, is well-credited as the founder and most celebrated painter of the “impressionist” movement. This new style of art took the accepted foundations of “academic painting” and turned them on their heads. For the first time, artists began to forego the conventions of historical and biblical subjects and realistic imagery for real life. The result was jarring. Monet, and his contemporaries, were immediately rejected from the Academy of Arts. This did nothing to quell the rising rebellion in the world of painting. Soon, impressionism began to take hold and artists enjoyed the freedom they found in exploring real life subjects such as landscapes and living people. 

    The Musée d’Orsay holds the largest collection of impressionist paintings in the world. Here, one can find most of the pre-and post-impressionist paintings an amateur art scholar is familiar with – Monet’s “Les Nymphéas” (water lilies), Degas’s famous “Dancer” paintings and sculptures, and even some of Vincent van Gogh’s

famous pieces such as “Self Potrait” and “Bedroom in Arles.”One of my favorite paintings in the world "L'absinthe" by Edgar Degas is housed at the Musée d’Orsay. It depicts a lone woman sitting at a table staring despondently into a glass of milky green absinthe. Though it appears innocuous to the modern eye, it was ridiculously controversial at the time of its creation due to its risque subject matter: a lone, lower class woman and drug use. I believe this to be a near perfect example of impressionistic painting. It gives their viewer an eye into the underbelly of society while also eliciting strong emotions - in my case, loneliness. For the first time, artists such as Degas began to produce work that rejected the idea that beauty could only be found in high society.

     

[Orsay from the Seine river - note the
multiple archways (former train entrances/exits.)]

    Interestingly the museum itself was previously a train station, making the architecture an interesting choice for its current purpose. A look from the Seine river reveals the names of major French cities over archways – train destinations from a previous time. A ook from the fifth floor vista reveals an arched ceiling and, with eyes closed, a bustling railroad station plays out easily before the sense (see header picture.) The walking paths of the exhibits, however, hide this original structure entirely. Modern marble staircases, removable walls, and elevators have replaced the technology of yore. The impressionist paintings are located up your choice of escalator or elevator on the fifth and uppermost floor of the museum. As one could expect, this is where most visitors are found.

After visiting the prestigious exhibits in the Louvre and finding myself entranced by the realism and

[“Paysage à Éragny” - Pisarro]

minute replication of human form that is displayed in classical paintings, it is almost difficult to find impressionism as the same form of art. While classical artists sought to remove themselves from their work, impressionist painters made no effort to hide their technique. Lines are blurred, figures are imperfect, and the subjects themselves may be “nobodys” – they could even be animals. In this painting, “Paysage à Éragny” by Camille Pisarro, the brush strokes used to create the sunset are visible, as are the multiple layers of paint. This, for me, is one of the most realistic sunsets I have ever seen depieced in painting because of its relative obscurity.

[“Les Dindons” - Monet]

I loved this painting – “Les Dindons” – Claude Monet for this exact reason. When compared with the triumphant aura of grand format paintings by people such as Louis David and Eugene Delacroix, “Les Dindons” looks like it could have been painted by a toddler. Many of the features of these turkeys are unclear, out of focus, perhaps even incomplete. For me, this renders the painting approachable and believable. Who really encounters turkeys in nature and is so close that they can examine every minute detail of their face and feathers? Nobody. Monet decided to paint these turkeys as we all seem them – fast moving, blurred shapes darting across your field of vision for only half a minute before they disappear back into the road. It may be less than anatomically correct, but its infinitely more allied to the human experience than a perfectly depicted turkey.

Giverny

     On Tuesday, I visited the luscious gardens in Giverny, France – about 50 miles northwest of Paris - the former home of Claude Monet himself. While winding my way up to the Monet house, I passed a small group of students taking in a quick lecture before entering. Their professor was asking them to reflect on what their “dream location” to live and work would be. What would you want there? How would you live? Oftentimes, questions like these amount to nothing but daydreaming. However, they are not without purpose. Claude Monet was already an established painter when he found his “dream location” in the countryside town of Giverny. For the latter part of his life, he set up shop here with his family and continued to paint outdoors in his gardens until his death in the early 1900s. But why Giverny, why here?

    Though it is a bit hard to imagine in its modern setting, Giverny must have been an absolute parricide while it was the private property of Claude Monet. The grounds are a sprawling expanse of well kept lawns, colorful flowers and buzzing bees. The Japanese bridge and pond are present as well. They are subjects of several famous Monet paintings, "Les Nymphéas" for example - a painting I had seen just a few days ago behind glass in a museum. Unfortunately, I must have arrived on field trip day or something. The grounds were absolutely crawling with school age children who filled the walkways skipping and screaming with glee. This, in and of itself, is not a bad thing. I was only hoping for a bit of peaceful meditation. Obviously I underestimated the popularity of this particular tourist destination. I followed the paths (and little feet) outlined on the cartoon map. The Japanese bridge and all paths around the lake were extremely crowded, but I had to stop and reflect in a silent spot once or twice. Monet was long gone, but he was here - I am seeing exactly as he was seeing. Despite the crowds, I am in nature and I feel at home here. Regardless of what I see when I open my eyes, it is important to imagine that spots like this – quiet, serene, outposts of nature’s beauty were not always the artist's workshops. It slowly developed that way through a series of small, artistic rebellions. No longer did painters feel they had to shut themselves inside a studio for hours at a time painting people they didn’t know or lives they had never seen. For the impressionists, it was out to the world: bars, train stations, fields, farms, where inspiration and the true human essence could be found and depicted as it exists in reality.

I like that we can think of impressionists as the first “rebels” of the art world. They destroyed the academic, claustrophobic confines of “accepted” art and paved the way for millions to follow them for generations to come – there is no way Andy Warhol or Jean-Michel Basquiat would have been able to create the jarring and ground-breaking works they have become famous for had it not been for this small circle of painters in the late 19^th century. The impressionists opened the doors of creativity  so others could enter. For that, we can all thank them.