This week's photo essay. You are right--it IS long. You can read the whole thing, or you can read the whole thing. Either way I won't be offended.

This assignment was supposed to be on architecture, or religion, or culture, or change. I went to the market outside of my apartment because it's like architecture and change every thursday and sunday! I took pictures there, and then I tried to take pictures of traffic at huge roundabouts to show how the french just circle around their huge monuments without looking at them, and when a street would almost go through a monument, they would just build the street around the monument. That didn't work either. Then I took pictures of people waiting. Because you do that a lot in Paris--or any big city. Waiting for crossing the street, for trains, in obnoxiously long lines because there is only one person working at a cash register, and three other workers standing around doing nothing, and other times too. This led me to think about people being bored in Paris. Because you can't get bored in Paris, right? It's Paris.

Riiiiiiiight...well, I kept thinking about things I blogged about a few days ago, about everything being different when you live somewhere, and if you can really do everything that you wish you could do, blah blah blah, and well, this is kind of a response.

So then I asked myself, where is the greatest concentration of bored people in front of ridiculously famous things? And immediately, the answer came.

The Louvre.

here is my post on my class' blog:

I went to the Louvre yesterday to take pictures. I know, maybe it doesn't really make sense with the assignment, because most of the Louvre's collection hasn't changed for decades. What I wanted to show, however, was people's reactions to one of the most important art museums in the world. I wanted to show a part of culture that sometimes is looked down on, but that I think is ironic, funny, and human. So, here is what I see as part of the culture of the Louvre. (Excuse me. LU-vrah.)

The idea for this stemmed from the way I have been feeling these first few weeks here. It is hard to simultaneously take advantage of every opportunity in Paris, and not keel over. It is hard to know what will help me have the best experience while I am here, and at the same time, not have an American attitude of self-improvement--going somewhere to see what I can get out of it. So I went to the Louvre to see how people felt to be in the most famous art museum in the world, because somehow, it seems that no one should be bored in Paris with so many important, photogenic monuments to see, right? Shouldn't there never be a time where one is so tired that they can't see and appreciate the most famous painting in the world? I decided to show another point of view. Most people are mortal, and can't stay on their feet all day, even if they're looking at art that changed the world. So it's normal. Relax, everyone can get bored, or tired. It's part of traveling, and learning, and whether or not you want it to be, it's part of art museum culture.

These students are studying, facing the pyramid, and the Louvre. It's a chance that I know many people would do a great deal for. And still students are bored, looking around, looking at the camera, and talking to each other. It's impossible to stay completely attentive even in this world-famous place.

Red shirt has been at the Louvre way too long, and he probably hasn't even been here for more than a few hours. The sheer massiveness of the Louvre can be seen in his expression.

I took this picture in front of a covered window. These students aren't even looking at any art at all, while some of the most talented Italian artists from the 15th century's works are displayed behind them. But, they are here, they want to, or at least are being forced to see things that changed our world, and fatigue is getting the better of them.

The Victory of Samothrace is behind these bustling visitors, who don't look at this priceless piece of sculpture. Not that I condemn what they are doing (especially because they were all polite, apologizing for getting in my picture), just that it really isn't possible to take in all of the art in the Louvre all at once. But doesn't it seem that a work as precious as this, people should be gaping, open-mouthed and eyed and dead-silent at this ancient piece of work, reveling in the sheer glory and beauty, and antiquity of it? But they are not, because they are human. Perhaps these people have taken considerable time before to observe, and now a glance is only needed to remind them, or maybe they will do that later. Or maybe they won't.

This picture displays the popularity of the Mona Lisa with all of the camera screens and the backs of heads. But as one looks at this photo, the eyes drift to the two security workers at the left, who have really no interest in seeing the most famous painting in the world. They have seen it before, they have seen it everyday, and it is commonplace. How interesting that even the most important painting, the most sought after, the whole reason some people come to this enormous museum, can be commonplace enough that guards do not stand behind the security band, staring at the woman's mysterious smile. Does that cheapen the remarkableness of the painting? Isn't it the same piece, the same brushstrokes, the same colors, the same artist that people are taking photographs of?

A mother, letting one of her children rest on her lap, asks someone next to her a question about the layout of the Louvre in her map. Her children are not interested in paintings painted by the masters. It could be possible that they could care less about these paintings at the moment, and would rather be eating or sleeping right now. I remember as a child running through the halls of this very museum, racing to the next gallery to win the only available seat in the room, and telling my mom that these were all "just paintings" and I was hungry and my feet hurt, and that it was so boring to look at just art for four hours straight.

I am not writing this essay and taking these pictures to show the frailty of men, or condemning their inability to appreciate art in its full measure, or saying that people need to be completely focused on these important works of art for the entirety of their visit. I'm not saying that at all. It's just that, when these people return to their homes to tell their friends about their visit to Paris, (which I think to a certain extent is for basically universal reasons. Everyone here is paying a lot of money to visit Paris. We are all here for the same reasons as all of those tourists, and admit it, we all use maps, we all want to feel what we've read and heard and dreamed about Paris, just like the rest of the people visiting here. We're just lucky enough to be here longer...) they can tell everyone they visited the Louvre, they saw famous paintings, and perhaps they felt a connection, or maybe they didn't. But while they were there, it really was impossible to appreciate every single work of art to the extent of their fame. It's okay to rest while we are here, it's okay for things to be commonplace, it's okay to be hungry and need to use the toilets, these things are all human things, and lest we forget, the masters of art whose works are displayed in the Louvre were humans too.