Table Tuesday

 

 

Early morning lineup of tables on Place du Tertre before the throngs arrive.

Midnight Monday

 

 

Le Lapin Agile, at night.

 

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It's midnight in Paris, and had this been the 1860s, this quiet Montmartre venue, once a lively cabaret, would be in full swing, with patrons reveling both inside and out. When it first opened its name was Au rendez-vous des voleurs ("Where Thieves Meet”) and then, about 20 years later, its walls adorned with portraits of notorious murderers, earned it the name Cabaret des Assassins. Legend has it that this name arose after a gang of robbers broke in, killing the owner's son during a failed robbery.

 

Was Pablo Picasso a patron, as the title of Steve Martin's play, "Picasso at the Lapin Agile" suggests? An oil-on-canvas by Picasso (Au Lapin Agile) dated 1905 and painted during his Rose Period, includes a contemplative self-portrait of young Pablo - he's the harlequin - who was a regular. The work fetched $40.7 million at Sotheby’s on November 27, 1989, making it one of the priciest paintings ever. By 1905, the Lapin Agile’s owner, Frédéric Gérard, tapped the 25-year-old artist to paint something for the club’s walls, offering him free meals and drinks as payment. Picasso, never one to say no to a deal, whipped up Au Lapin Agile - and the rest is art history. - BPJ

Sunsplashed Sunday

 The old Marais district is the place to head on a Sunday, especially on a beautiful spring day.

Above: from a café on Place des Vosges

Sit-down Saturday

 Sous le Chapeau (Under the Hat) at the Institut Liszt Paris / Hungarian Cultural Center.

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A life-sized bronze created by Hungarian sculptor Márta Lesenyei, known for her expressive works that often depict human figures in contemplative or emotional poses.

Floral Friday

 A flowering tree at the Jardin des Plantes.

 

Rain shower

  

The sun emerges and tabletops glisten in an ancient passage where time slows down with every drop.

 

Travel Tuesday

 

Shirts, jeans and a cheeky pair of red undies sway in the breeze while a potted plant seems to cheer them on.

 

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In many narrow village streets all over Italy stone buildings lean in for a gossip, as laundry hangs like a vibrant parade of flags. Below, a parked car waits patiently, resigned to a lifetime of dodging stray socks. But most are in agreement: fresh-air-dried washing is always superior to machine-dried, which explains those silk shirts flapping from the balconies of sumptuous palazzi that dot the Italian countryside.

 

As a golden sunset casts a warm glow, a neighbor wonders, isn't that red pair theirs, and could this trigger a new (laundry-inspired) friendship, or even romance? - BPJ

 

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3 hours (or less) from Paris

 

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