The Less-Crowded Louvre

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, Bather of Valpincon, 1808

Since the most asked question at the Louvre is "How do I get to the Mona Lisa?", it follows that all the routes to Lisa are jam-packed with tourists. The upside of this, is that on the upper levels, relative tranquility may accompany your visit to the canvases from France, and northern europe. As one might expect, the collection of French paintings is vast. Writing about them after a spending a month living in Italy - where Italian painting dominates the museums and churches, I can't help but compare. In the French, Dutch and German galleries of the Louvre I was certainly awed by the mastery of skill and illusion in many of the paintings. In retrospect, however, I must admit it was a fairly rational experience. It was quite possible to remain cool while standing in front of these paintings...identifying, admiring and acknowledging their greatness. This experience seems to pale when compared, for example, to how a single face looking out from a crowd of faces in a Titian has the power to throw the viewer into an immediate existential crisis! It is disconcerting in the most arresting and fantastical way. But, I digress. I was intending to show you some of the paintings at the Louvre, and instead have somehow directed you to Italy if you seek paintings and sculpture that will tear at your heart and soul. I beg your pardon.



This is one of many French canvases of epic proportions that you might have all to yourself to enjoy. In fact, I had to wait a bit for the woman in the background to enter the frame, so that she could unknowingly provide some sense of scale. Merci.



A small oil sketch for the massive Raft of the Medusa by the French painter Theodore Gericault. Not to be missed if you liked the full size version downstairs. The drawing beneath the painting visible in this image reveals much about the artist's working method and his mastery of anatomy and gesture. If you click on the image to see it bigger you will see how the character with the red headscarf is holding a lifeless man. It seems as if he is waiting, with growing boredom, for Gericault to add some colour (life) to his poor pale shipmate.



In addition to seeing the often reproduced, Hall of Fame artworks in the flesh, another wonderful thing about these massive museums is discovering little treasures that were previously unknown to you. Like this one where you can literally follow the light as in travels through the window, hits the floor, then illuminates the underside of the mysterious staircase.


In this famous Gericault from 1821, long before the science of stop motion photography revealed the truth, we can see how some people used to think horses galloped.