You'll be Able to Visit the Louvre on One Channel...

I hope that, as a reader of this blog and, therefore, probably a friend or relative of mine you appreciate the title of this post. If not, go watch the movie “Cable Guy” no less than ten times and return to reading.

Seriously.

If you don’t have time to watch what is arguably the greatest movie ever created, you can just click here.

Enough about cinematic brilliance, this post is entirely dedicated to artistic brilliance in all its splendor. A couple weeks ago my brother and sister came to visit and we saw and scaled just about every Parisian monument one can imagine. The most tiring day, for me, was when we spent five hours in the Louvre, taking in hundreds of years’ worth of majestic artwork.

The first portion of the Louvre we decided to meander through was the sculpture rooms. This section of the museum, like the rest of them, was massive. One area, though, was somewhat troubling. Every single statue was missing something, though, between the three of us, we couldn’t name the attribute that each statue lacked. Then it hit us. Heads. None of them had heads. An entire room of statues…each one decapitated. While some families may stand slack-jawed in dismay at the room full of torso-topped legs, we Carricos are problem solvers.



From the sculptures, we moved on to observe all of the paintings that this museum had to offer. I grew to appreciate the minute details of each painter, as he or she added their own personal touch to each painting with a uniquely positioned stroke of the brush. There were little aspects of each painting that struck a small chord for a short time. The effect that these diminutive, dare I say lilliputian, additions to the paintings had on my enjoyment of the piece far surpassed their bantam stature.



While the next piece we viewed was certainly no large piece of artwork, it is perhaps the most recognized painting on the planet and a must-see for all those visiting the Louvre: The Mona Lisa. She has her own wall and no less than three security guards around her at all times, there is a huge crowd gathered around her, all pressing in to get as close to the roped off boundary 20 feet from the painting as possible. We made our way through the crowd in order to get the best, dead-center view of the masterpiece that we could. As the people parted and we neared the front of the pack, we were treated to a view of the Mona Lisa that will be permanently etched within the fibers of our art-loving souls for the remainder of our lives.



This museum is full of two things: the famous works of well known artists, and highly confused curators. One painting, in particular, showcased the uncertainty of the enterprise of labeling paintings crafted by the world’s most famous artists?



This next painting may not have necessarily caught my eye months ago, however, my French has reached the level that its title was enough to merit a second gander. I took a picture of both the painting as well as its title so that Abbey could confirm that either a.) my French had vastly improved or b.) I was still quite dumb. Though the result was a mixture of a.) and b.), I am proud to say that my rough translation: “kid getting his leg chopped off because he slapped his momma” was a fairly accurate rendering.





Finally, aside from the Mona Lisa, there was another piece that I needed to see. For purposes of entertainment and vindication we saved this 16th Century Bronze sculpture for the end of the day, capping off an exciting venture through a world renowned collection of art. This particular piece had great personal significance for me as it represents an early example of a contemporary work that utterly transformed my life. I am speaking, of course, of “Gnôme à L’escargot,” or “Gnome on a Snail.”



I earnestly hope that you enjoyed the Louvre as much as I did!

Thanks for reading.