Père Lachaise

So I woke up super early this morning to snag a baguette at Biatrix (they open at 7am and I had to be at Metro Père Lachaise by 9am). I quickly fixed myself 2 sandwiches that fit nicely in my new tupperware along side some apple slices and Italian white grapes.

At Père Lachaise, my photo class met up with Philippe who proved himself to be even crazier than the last time we saw him. For example, Philippe saw a poster that said "Finet Art" and noticed that the marble behind it was cracking. He thought it would be a great photo to show words that said, "fine art" in front of a clearly damaged background. Instead of doing this in photoshop, Philippe got a pair of sissors out of his pocket and then wedged the T off of this poor person's building. He says, "See! I don't even need photoshop! I photoshop in real life! And no one will know the 'T' is at my house when they go looking for it!"


Example 2: Philippe opened up the top of a grave to look inside. Seriously, he lifted up the top part of the grave to get a closer look at the dead family 6 feet under. I was almost hoping the zombie attack would provide appropriate Karma.

Needless to say, I love my photography teacher.

Some beautifully destroyed flowers on graves at the entrance to Père Lachaise.

A statue overlooks a family tomb.

Philippe showed us some great spots in the cemetary. We first stopped at a tomb dedicated to two brothers who died together due to a large fall. Their sculpted bodies seemed to cry out in agony as they clutched eachother's hands atop the tomb. The bronze that once was has now turned a seafoam green that couldn't have looked more immortal next to the fall leaves, whose transition into old age was marked by their loss, rather than gain, of colour.

Brother #1

We continued on to the most famous resident at Père Lachaise (no, not Jim Morrison): Oscar Wilde. I took the risk of contracting every STD known to man and kissed the tomb. Philippe thought I looked very cute and insisted on taking a video of me puckering up. I settled for a picture. "Here lies the greates man that ever lived." How could I not give him a farewell kiss?

The man in the background taking photos is none other than the Philippe Vermès.

After wiping the disease-ridden lipstick off of my face, I noticed a cat hanging out by a grave and some other interesting sculptures by tombs. Philippe wanted to take us to another legendary grave that is famous because the man's crotch has been touched by so many people it has returned to it's shiny bronze colour. I guess the legend goes that the way in which this man died caused him to die with an errection, so many people make pilgrimage to his grave to give the thing a final rub.


After leaving the cemetary, running back to school for a meeting, scarfing down lunch, and returning to Philippe's studio, I finally got to work on some of my photos. There's so much to do! I can't say I've altered any of these to the point of being "done" (and certainly I haven't even gotten around to the Père Lachaise photos yet), but I'm very much enjoying myself in the process. For your viewing pleasure:


Tomorrow I'm going to meet Alicia at her train staion and pick up some lunch! Got tons of homework to do, an apt to find, and a city to fall in love with all over again.

Totally damages today:
baguette from biatrix: 85 centimes