ONE of the great divisions in the western world is whether the Louvre pyramid is an affront to civilisation or one its glories.
Functionally it is quite superb. The vast glass edifice with its elegant geodesic construction opens up the underground reception of the museum into a huge and airy vault, full of light and clean air which sucks up and dissipates the din of the unwashed hordes shuffling below.
One of its merits is its transparency which makes all four sides of the courtyard visible. But there is no time when one can be unaware of this vast great, modernist protrusion rising from the ground and where as today it might not be to offensive, can we say that in 20 years it will not be? One of the glories of the Louvre is that it came to pass by a series of accretions of almost syncretic diversity which all conform with classical concepts of architecture. I M Pei's pyramid does also but in quite drastically different materials.
I doubt we will ever see it as part of that integral whole of central Paris, from the Place de La Concorde with its 3,000 year old obelisk from Luxor to the elegant coolness of the Tuileries or the gracious spaces of the Rue de Rivoli.
Materially disconsonant The Eiffel Tower, of course, is materially disconsonant from classical Paris but then it is not part of it and seems an odd, whimsically vulgar imposition when viewed from the Tuileries. It is there, and imperishably part of Paris, but only because it does not violate the rules of the area which it in habits.
A decade or more will tell whether the Pei pyramid is appropriate. It certainly will never be the reason why people visit the Louvre, which is one of the great and most lustrous diamonds in French civilisation.
No doubt much of the contents is booty from empire, tut tut tut but is it so bad that the artefacts of Assyria or Babylon can be seen in the centre of Paris rather than dear old downtown Baghdad? And anyway, what claim have today's Iraqis over items from a civilisation with which they have nothing in common, other than geographical accidence? A standard cliche about the Louvre's most famous item is how disappointing it is. I did not find the Mona Lisa the least disappointing quite the reverse.
Found breathtaking, full of wondrous subtlety, the famous smile almost moving on the face as her eyes followed me. No wonder it's the most protected item in the Louvre.
In the history of the world, there has probably never been a more sublimely crafted object than this, transcending the human skills of mundane genius into something almost unearthly. The Mona Lisa is one of the wonders of the world, if not the greatest wonder of the world it alone is worth a trip to Paris.
It draws huge crowds, seemingly at the expense of the Leonardo nearby the painting of the Virgin, the child Jesus, St Anne and the lamb.
That I found as quite as transfixing and transforming as the Mona Lisa its beauty is ethereal, elegiac, almost supernatural.
Love or fear of God has produced some of the greatest works in creation and this is surely one of them. Because of the divided focus of the four figures, it is not as singularly captivating as the Mona Lisa, but the smiles are individually as haunting, and the whole is infused with an extraordinary sense of sanctimonious worship. It is pure genius.
To view this work is to experience a genuine spiritual liberation. Ray and caviar It is worth visiting Paris for it alone. It used to be the case that the restaurants of Paris were a reason for a visit. Generally speaking, this is no longer the case. Irish restaurants have so improved and their prices are so moderate that it is only in the area of haute cuisine that Paris remains sui generis.
Since most of you are unlikely ever to eat at Guy Savoie's, allow me to run through the little dinner I had there the other night. We began the meal with an amusing little Moet et Chandon rose as an aperitif, accompanied by tiny amuse gueules. A tiny cup of carrot scented warm cream followed, mouth watering and light.
The first substantive dish was a confection of ray and caviare in a cool oyster sauce which miraculously retained the zingy freshness of uncooked oyster.
Quite superb but not as superb as the salmon which followed, which was cooked crisp brown on the outside yet slightly underdone inside, as is right, and bathing in a sauce made from pureed parsley. In composition a simple enough dish, but in execution quite astounding. A brief pause before lobster, simply cooked and dressed in a sauce made from lobster entrails and accompanied by crisp mange touts. Too many people ruin lobster with cheese sauces and garlic butter and other rubbish. But lobster is a delicate meat which benefits from lobsterly delicacy.
Fruity notes We drank a strikingly hand some chablis, deeply structured with late fruity notes, with the above, but at this point began to move into rouge territory, accomplished with the aid of a Pommerol of rare complexity and finish. Veal sweetbreads in a nest of wild mushrooms provided the first of the meat dishes. They were close to perfection crisply sizzled on the outside, soft and tender within, and the mushrooms reeked of wild woodland.
Then came the piece de resistance, layered breast of duck in its own sauce, cut thinly and cooked rare, accompanied by slices of foie gras that vanished in the mouth like mousse, accompanied by spinach in a vinegar dressing and thin cut potatoes, fried deep brown. Astounding. What next? Ah yes. Cheese. A vast cheese board whose inhabitants smelled of cholera and typhus, Wanderers' changing rooms and bad feet. Quite wonderful. Then a dessert of creme caramel, with toasted slices of apple in a green apple coulis, followed by another dessert, this time of chocolate ice cream in a little, accompanied by chocolate sauce.
Followed by coffee. Followed by the bill. Eeque. Followed by men with big hammers to widen the doorway so that we could leave. Magnifique.