Okay, Neo-baroque. Beaux Arts, Second Empire.
You get what I was going for. The Opera Nationale de Paris!
After perusing the finest dead people of Paris, we needed to take a break and calm our selves. You know. Not be so stimulated. That is why we trekked across town to the Opera.
Charles Garnier at the entrance. He wanted those who passed through the doors to think, "Stranger, you've entered another world."
Boy, did he get it right.
Not a single surface is left untouched by decoration. It makes Versailles seem pitifully plain by comparison.
In my head, I was totally planning our renewal vows for that giant 500 person wedding I never really wanted. I never was that girl. You know her. Planning her perfect wedding for years before she even met the guy. So not me. But this place makes you dream. You want to share history with it.
The Opera was having an exhibit of actors' costumes from some of their more memorable performances.
Sweet! I don't even have to look for a dress. They made one for me.
Gah. This place makes me feel like I've had a sudden onset of ADD. I almost got whiplash trying to see everything at once. It was hard to take it all in.
We entered the Salon de la Soleil. With charming paintings of salamanders on the ceiling and stars on the walls.
And that's when it happened. We exited into the Grand Foyer.
And my mind was scampering around my head like a bundle of kittens paying with a mouse. I was officially on beauty overload.
Stranger, you've entered another world.
Before I lost what is left of my mind, we escaped into the back halls, which we much more sparsely decorated. Whew.
And I, of course took the opportunity to act a fool.
Heeee. That wouldn't work with a short chick.
At the end of the hall, was a small, round reception room. It was tarted up in ceiling paint and needle point of the muses.
Outside, the city traffic churned. I had forgotten that a city even existed outside of these walls.
Refreshed form the break, we ventured back into the glittering assault of gilt and carvings.
The private booths on the balcony.
And posed for some shots on the stairs. Not being a fool for a change.
The view above us was spectacular.
One of the private rooms was open and we slipped inside for a view of the acutal Opera.
Here you can see a glimpse of the Chagall ceiling. It was etherial and bright. I'd have a hard time focusing on the performances. My gaze would always be drifting upward.
In one of the side halls, by the library. they had an installation of paintingsof some of the famous ballerinas and divas who have graced the stage of the Opera.
Love this last one. This Prima Ballerina disliked her portrait, so ten years later she had this one made to replace it.
And into the extremely crowded library.
We wanted one last look at the Grand Foyer and the Chrismas tree.
We headed back out to the staircase and made our way out.
Of course we had to take a turn of the gift shop before we left. I had to explain my scarf. Again. Heeee. I wonder if Twinkie Chan is wondering why she got so many hits from Paris on her website over Christmas.
Tomorrow is the last day!