Where's your banana from?

Bananas are a staple.  Much as one cannot live without sugar, flour, salt, ketchup and mustard, every pantry must also have bananas.  And a wonderful thing about bananas is that you can get them year round, and pretty much all over the world.

I don't know when I became aware of the country of origin on my banana stickers, but I remember starting a collection of stickers in the late 70s, affixing them to the wood frame of my bulletin board at work.  I was curious to discover how many different countries my bananas came from and I was surprised to discover that my coworkers thought I was kooky for collecting stickers.  I was shocked, I tell you!  Me?  Kooky?  Nonsense!  I was disappointed to discover though, that my bananas weren't as worldly as I had hoped.  I collected a boatload of stickers, enough to cover the entire frame, but they all represented three countries; Panama, Ecuador and Costa Rica.  And while I'm not entirely sure, I may have since had a banana from Honduras or Guatemala, and I'm pretty sure all of my stickers were from Chiquita, Dole or Del Monte.

I am tickled and intrigued that my Parisian bananas aren't from Central America.  They hail from countries whose stickers are unknown to me.  I don't recognize their colors or brands (except one), and the countries all have an exotic flair.  So naturally, I started collecting stickers.  I am going to presume that all ya'll will not think I'm kooky for doing so.  After six months, I have discovered 5 different countries of origin:

Guadeloupe & Martinique - actually two Caribbean islands, both of which are Overseas Regions of France

Cameroon!  African West Coast, former French/British territory

Colombia - South America

Antilles - judging by the French flag motif of the sticker, I'm going to guess this means French Antilles which includes Guadeloupe, Martinique, Saint Martin, Saint Barthélemy, Marie-Galante and La Désirade in the Carribean

Cote d'Ivoire - a former French territory in West Africa

Bananas have always been a part of my life, and until now, I don't think I would have classified them as comfort food, but they are.  No matter where you are, or where your banana is from, you can count on a banana to look and taste the same.  There's comfort in that.

So...where's your banana from?

The Gnomon of Saint-Sulpice

One of the wonderful things about our long stay in Paris and hosting visitors at different times is that I have the opportunity to revisit places I've been, and re-photograph them in different ways and at different times.  Returning to Saint Sulpice afforded one of those opportunities.  I have been to Saint Sulpice three times now - once with Ron, once with Beth and this time with Chris and Jeff and each visit was different. For this visit, I decided to focus on the gnomon.

The Gnomon of Saint Sulpice

The gnomon of Saint Sulpice has an air of mystery surrounding it thanks to the author Dan Brown and The DaVinci Code.  The Church of Saint Sulpice and this gnomon are featured in the novel as part of the search for the holy grail.  Due to the popularity of the novel and movie though, the church has posted a sign highlighting the fictional aspects associated with the church and gnomon.  The gnomon of Saint Sulpice is not a pagan astronomical instrument and it is not a vestige of an ancient pagan temple that stood in the same spot as the Church of Saint Sulpice (the pagan temple is also refuted) and the obelisk is not Egyptian.  The Saint Sulpice meridian is not a rose line nor is it the same as the Paris meridian as they are several hundred meters apart, so the zero longitude has never passed through the Church of Saint Sulpice.  That's the fiction.

The facts are:

1. The gnomon is an astronomical measurement device designed to cast a spot of sunlight on the floor in order to determine the position of the sun in the sky
2. There are three other gnomons like this one built in Italian churches
3. Gnomons were replaced with powerful telescopes
4. The Saint Sulpice meridian is a strict north-south axis marked by a brass line set into marble on the floor of the church
5. Sunlight passes through a small hole 25 meters high in a window in the south transept
6. At noon each day, as sunlight hits the hole in the window, a small spot of light is cast on the brass line
7. The brass line spans the width of the transept, starting at a plaque on the floor on the south side and ending on the gnomon on the north side
8. The spot of sunlight is cast on the plaque on the south side in summer, then moves along the line to a gold disk in the floor at the altar at the equinox and then continues along the line to a point high on the obelisk in winter

The plaque on the south transept floor and the meridian line leading to the gnomon

for the nutation of the earth's axis and the obliquity of the ecliptic

The decorative rail of the altar, making it difficult to see the equinox marker

A brass disk in the center of a brass semi-circle marks the equinox

The brass line continues from the altar to the north transept

The brass line moves up the wall and is embedded in the midline of the obelisk; text mentioning God, the Kings and his Ministers were deleted during the French Revolution. The top left text says, "To determine precisely the Paschal (Easter) Equinox"

The brass median line embedded in the obelisk

The top of the obelisk

And finally, an alligator detail on the obelisk <shrug>

So it seems that the gnomon is really just a clock.

Jean-Baptiste Languet de Gergy, a parish priest at the Church of Saint Sulpice, wanted to establish the exact astrological time so that the church bells could be rung at the right time of day.  I guess that could be sort of important if the people around the church used the ringing bells to determine what time it was.  I mean, it would be pretty cool to have a much longer lunch hour in the summer and all, but I can see where it would be rather confusing for the bell ringer when there are only 8 hours of daylight in December and more than 16 hours of daylight in June.  So to ensure the church bells rang at the appropriate hour, Languet de Gergy commissioned Henry Sully, an English clockmaker who lived in France, to build the gnomon.  Unfortunately for Sully, he died in 1728, and was only able to complete the meridian line in the floor of the church.

The meridian line and the little hole in the south transept window were enough to allow Languet de Gergy to ring his bells on time.  But he was vexed by another problem.  When in the sam hill is Easter?  Since Easter falls on the first Sunday after the full moon following the vernal equinox in the Northern Hemisphere, Languet de Gergy had another pesky date and time problem  because Roman Christians were using a Julian calendar then, not a lunar calendar.  By the Julian calendar, Languet de Gergy would be celebrating Easter about 10 days late.  What's a priest to do?  It just wouldn't be right for a church that can ring it's bells on time to celebrate Easter on the wrong day.  So In 1742, Languet de Gergy commissioned Pierre Charles Claude Le Monnier, a French astronomer, to complete the gnomon project and include the ability to properly define the Easter Equinox.  Problem solved! 

I find it fascinating that a gnomon was built and all kinds of sciency stuff was carried out in a church at the same time that Gallileo's works were still censored and prohibited by the Pope in Rome.  Being about 700 miles from Rome must have had its privileges, but I would bet that Paris being the center for the Age of Enlightenment had a much bigger influence.

And once again, I couldn't resist the candles!

After our tour of the church, it was time for a coffee break!

We had intended on coffee but ended up with a fabulous hot chocolate instead!

Soaking up the atmosphere at a sidewalk cafe

Chris and Jeff at Cafe Conti

Musee Rodin - Paris

We had the pleasure of hosting visitors again - Chris and Jeff!  They spend a week with us and although Ron had to work, I got to be a tourist for a week again!

Jeff and Chris - Convention Metro Station

I have to say - being a tourist is hard work!  When your time is limited and your to-do list is long, the days are long and busy and tiring.  I am somewhat amazed at how exhausting it is to sight-see and be on your feet and carry a heavy camera for 6 days in a row.  Nevertheless, that's what I got to do!  The four of us had been in Paris together in 2000, so the to-do list was entirely Chris and Jeff's - all the stuff they wanted to do that they didn't do last time or wanted to do again.

Our very first stop was the Rodin Museum - which made me happy because I hadn't been there since 1995 and that was the year Hillary Clinton and the U.S. Secret Service got us into the Rodin Museum for free!   

Part of the Musee Rodin facade - the old entrance

The entrance to the museum has changed since I was here last, and sadly, the change is such that I don't think Mrs. Clinton could get us in for free again.

Musee Rodin - 79, rue de Varenne in Paris - the new entrance

Actually, what I don't like about it is the modern change to the facade and ticketing.  In 1995, you entered the museum from the old courtyard doors and there was a ticket booth that was just outside the doors.  You bought your tickets and then entered the garden in front of the Hotel Biron (the mansion in which Rodin lived and is now the museum) through the courtyard doors.  Now you enter a modern glass anteroom, have to pass security and there's a snazzy bookstore/gift shop and...well...it's progress I know but I liked the old entrance better.  I'm not a huge fan of mixing modern glass and steel with the baroquerococoartnouveauneo-classichaussmanian mix of ornate architecture throughout most of Paris. 

Still, once inside the gates, Hotel Biron is quite beautiful!

It would be much prettier without the giant aluminum nuggets though!

We toured the museum first and saved the gardens for later.  The Age of Bronze is one of my Rodin favorites.  I even have a small replica at home.  It's no wonder I spent an inordinate amount of shutter/sensor time on this sculpture!

The Age of Bronze is tucked into a window-filled room and you can view the sculpture from every angle

In this view you can see a little more of the room - although I love this sculpture, I'm equally in love with the history of this mansion and it's worn but-still-beautiful architectural details

The Age of Bronze again...but viewed through the mirror seen in the above photograph.  The bright sunlight highlights the patina and oxidation of the antique mirror

detail of mirror

aged beauty

Two right hands

Lovely flowers near the staircase

As you wander through the museum, the floor creaks and moans beneath your feet

A window with a front garden view

A window with a back garden view

Balzac

The Colossal Head of Pierre de Wiessant - a Burgher of Calais

Chris and Jeff on the front porch

A path in the back garden - there's an outdoor cafe on the right

The Hotel Biron from the back garden - and a most beautiful sky!

Astilbe in the garden!  One of my favorites - it looks like a bursting firework!

I don't know what the stickers are for, but many people stuck theirs to the railing on the steps leading to the back garden

The Thinker

The Thinker and a beautiful sky

The Burghers of Calais

In 1347, King Edward III of England laid siege to Calais and King Philip VI of France ordered the city to hold out at all costs.  After 11 months, starvation forced the city to discuss surrender conditions and Edward offered to spare the city if six of Calais' leaders would surrender to him, presumably to be executed.  Eustache de Saint Pierre volunteered first, and five other burghers followed.  Stripped down to their breeches and with nooses around their necks and carrying the keys to the city and castle, Saint Pierre led the starving volunteers to the city gates.

The Burghers of Calais is probably one of Rodin's most famous sculptures.  In 1880, Rodin was commissioned by the mayor of Calais for a monument for the town square to pay tribute to these six heroic men.  Rodin's design was controversial and innovative in that it presented the burghers at viewer height instead of on a pedestal and the burghers are portrayed as vulnerable, defeated and heroic in a profoundly moving moment of self-sacrifice as they leave the city and believe they are going to die.  And although King Edward intended to kill the burghers, his pregnant wife, Philippa, convinced him to spare their lives because she believed their deaths would be a bad omen for her unborn child.

Jacques de Wiessant and Jean de Fiennes

Pierre de Wiessant

Andrieu d'Andres

Eustache de Saint-Pierre and Jean d'Aire

 The Burghers of Calais are all over the world now - in addition to the original in Calais, there are twelve casts of the sculpture; in Paris, Copenhagen, Belgium, London, Philadelphia, Switzerland, Washington D.C., Tokyo, Pasadena, Brooklyn, New York City and Seoul.  If you're even in one of these cities, look them up! 

One thing I find interesting is the juxtaposition of this incredibly emotional sculpture and the surrounding gardens.  It doesn't get much prettier than this:

The Hotel Biron and view of Napolean's Tomb from the front garden

And, just because you never know what you'll see on the streets of Paris, two fun photos!

That's me taking a picture of me whilst looking at a reflection of me in a mirror in a shop window

A color-coordinated flower shop - all the blossoms were shades of purple and white!