a) Armelle. She's the little girl I tutor in English. I'm kind of obsessed with her. She's seven, and smart and very playful. We don't get as much done as her father would like, but we have a really good time. (I think she's kind of obsessed with me, too.) Today we spent quite a bit of time talking about what it means to be part of a global community. She told me that she thinks the world should be linguistically divided in two: half the world should speak French, the other half English, and that the two sides should never trespass on each other. I tried to explain to her that it was important for countries and regions and whatever to keep their languages because language is tied to culture and tradition, and that if we didn't share our cultures and traditions we'd all be the same. She replied that we'd all get along better if we were the same, and then said that when she's president, she's going to make a law that says that you can only speak French in France. "All the Americans who don't speak French - poof! - out!" She said. "This is OUR country. Poof! But you can stay, Betsie." (She spells my name like that.) "Your French gets better every time we have a lesson, so you can stay." Aw. Thanks.
b) If you need proof that I'm a baller, here it is: I had this huge medieval art dossier due on Thursday, and I really needed an extra day or two to finish it. After the exam on Wednesday, I went up to the professor and pointed out that the syllabus says it's due Friday. She asked if I needed the day, and I replied that it would absolutely help. She looked slightly taken aback (Betsy? Needing extra time? Not being on top of her game? Impossible!), but told me that she'd rather an excellent paper than one that was merely finished, and that I could take the week. Excellent!
c) No Finzi next week - the soprano exodus kind of xnayed that. But tomorrow we'll be doing the Mathais "God has gone up" and a really really pretty Nestor chant thing. In other singing news, though, I just got the music for this summer's tour with Bruce. Good stuff - a lot of Howells and Sowerby and Neswick (duh) and some Darke. Holla! Can't wait to look over it all.
Showing posts with label classes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label classes. Show all posts
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Monday, May 7, 2007
lions and tigers and bears, oh my!
(It seems I have used this as a blog post title before. That's either amazing or really, really sad.)
lions = allergies. France is crazy with pollen, kind if like DC, but with pollen that my body can't deal with. I've developed these super Nana sneezes that scare me with their violence.
tigers = finding a new apartment and finalizing my summer jobs. (More like a big, stuffed, fuzzy tiger from FAO Schwartz; I've both bound a new apartment and finalized my summer jobs. Details later.)
bears = the last week of Reid Hall classes.
It may seem kind of counter-intuitive, but every time the end of the semester rolls around, and I'm staring down freedom, I start wishing I had taken the semester off and swearing that I'm going to run away to the circus. Why? This is why:
Monday: grammar paper #4 rewrite, grammar paper #5 final, med. history paper, grammar exam.
Tuesday: bank holiday woohoo!
Wednesday: med. art exam
Thursday: med. art dossier, history of paris exam
Friday: death and destruction
I'd greatly appreciate emails and stuff in my time of travail. I'm starting to think that only Kate Chieco, Christine, and Nana still love me.
lions = allergies. France is crazy with pollen, kind if like DC, but with pollen that my body can't deal with. I've developed these super Nana sneezes that scare me with their violence.
tigers = finding a new apartment and finalizing my summer jobs. (More like a big, stuffed, fuzzy tiger from FAO Schwartz; I've both bound a new apartment and finalized my summer jobs. Details later.)
bears = the last week of Reid Hall classes.
It may seem kind of counter-intuitive, but every time the end of the semester rolls around, and I'm staring down freedom, I start wishing I had taken the semester off and swearing that I'm going to run away to the circus. Why? This is why:
Monday: grammar paper #4 rewrite, grammar paper #5 final, med. history paper, grammar exam.
Tuesday: bank holiday woohoo!
Wednesday: med. art exam
Thursday: med. art dossier, history of paris exam
Friday: death and destruction
I'd greatly appreciate emails and stuff in my time of travail. I'm starting to think that only Kate Chieco, Christine, and Nana still love me.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
summertime, summertime, sum sum summertime
It's in the mid-70s, the sun is shining, the breeze is doing it's thing - and I've officially checked out. This may be a problem, but one of the side effects to checking out is not really giving a damn.
Okay, I do care just a little bit. See, I've finished my major major work things: all three of my exposés have been turned in or presented. Reid Hall classes end on May 11, so I have just three midterms (that I can't start studying for until the last minute, obviously) and an art history dossier left. No worries. The Paris IV classes don't end till June 1, so that's going to be more of a poo. There's a 10 page paper due on May 7 on women in the "Lais" of Marie de France for my medieval class, which I'm looking forward to writing, and a final (not yet announced) paper for my Belle Epoque class. The pooey bit is that I only receive two grades from my fac professors, and Reid Hall required three per course, so my tutor is going to assign me an extra project or paper to complete in the next month. Awesome.
Really, though, life is otherwise too lovely to be gloomed over by homework. (Who can think about studies when she's spending an obscene amount of time strolling through Paris hand-in-hand with an adorable Brit? Not this girl.)
Okay, I do care just a little bit. See, I've finished my major major work things: all three of my exposés have been turned in or presented. Reid Hall classes end on May 11, so I have just three midterms (that I can't start studying for until the last minute, obviously) and an art history dossier left. No worries. The Paris IV classes don't end till June 1, so that's going to be more of a poo. There's a 10 page paper due on May 7 on women in the "Lais" of Marie de France for my medieval class, which I'm looking forward to writing, and a final (not yet announced) paper for my Belle Epoque class. The pooey bit is that I only receive two grades from my fac professors, and Reid Hall required three per course, so my tutor is going to assign me an extra project or paper to complete in the next month. Awesome.
Really, though, life is otherwise too lovely to be gloomed over by homework. (Who can think about studies when she's spending an obscene amount of time strolling through Paris hand-in-hand with an adorable Brit? Not this girl.)
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
exposé
So my second exposé was due yesterday, although I didn't have time to present it in class. It was for my medieval Paris IV course (which seems to switch titles every time I turn around; sometimes it's "Church and Society," sometimes "Power and Society," sometimes simply "The XI and XII centuries"). The topic was fascinating; the class was on the power of cities, and the text I had to commentaire was a notice from the cartulaire of Notre Dame de Chartres about a riot that occurred in that city in 1210. Here's a link to the text, if you want to check it out (it was, of course, originally written in Latin, and has only been translated into English, making my life a lot easier): http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/source/1210chartres.html
The only difficulties I had in writing the exposé was that I didn't want to stop doing background reading! I read two books on the 12th and 13th centuries, one on the medieval city, and one on Chartres itself. (Hannah: the authors were Theis, Barthélemy, Le Goff, and Chédeville, respectively.) I did way more reading than was necessary (despite Harry's best efforts to distract me, ha!), but it was so interesting. The text itself speaks very clearly to medieval procedures of justice and the hierarchies of power, among other things. (If you want a homework assignment, Nana, look at how the author speaks of the rioters. Very cool.)
Anyway, I was supposed to present yesterday, but we ran out of time. I guess I'm lucky, because while it's done I have the next two weeks - Spring Break - to edit it. Wish I had known, though; I wouldn't have stayed up all Sunday night working! Meant that I passed out at 9pm last night. Bah.
The only difficulties I had in writing the exposé was that I didn't want to stop doing background reading! I read two books on the 12th and 13th centuries, one on the medieval city, and one on Chartres itself. (Hannah: the authors were Theis, Barthélemy, Le Goff, and Chédeville, respectively.) I did way more reading than was necessary (despite Harry's best efforts to distract me, ha!), but it was so interesting. The text itself speaks very clearly to medieval procedures of justice and the hierarchies of power, among other things. (If you want a homework assignment, Nana, look at how the author speaks of the rioters. Very cool.)
Anyway, I was supposed to present yesterday, but we ran out of time. I guess I'm lucky, because while it's done I have the next two weeks - Spring Break - to edit it. Wish I had known, though; I wouldn't have stayed up all Sunday night working! Meant that I passed out at 9pm last night. Bah.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
la Bibliothèque Sainte-Genviève
Wasted an hour of my life today - but decided that, all things considered, I'd only count it as 30 wasted minutes.
A book I need to find for my exposé on the rise of medieval cities and the riots at Chartres in 1210, A. Chèdeville's "Chartres et ses campagnes," isn't at any of the bookstores that I've visited. It is, however, at the Bibliothèque Sainte-Genviève, which is steps away from my apartment.
Libraries are a cornerstone of the French university system; indivdual colleges don't have their own libraries, and internet access isn't a given in houses and apartments like it is in the States, so kids pretty much camp out in the libraries. Every time I've walked past the BSG, I've noted the ginormous line outside the door and the groups of kids milling around, smoking cigarettes and downing espresso during study breaks. I really need this book - the exposé is on Monday - so I juiced up my ipod and m'installed at the end of the line. Forty-five mminutes later...
Apparently, you have to be registered to get into the library. Apparently, there was another queue, which was empty, to get registered. Apparently, you need a passport and a photo to register. Apparently, God hates me; I had neither. I trudged back home, got my passport and a photo for my ID, waited in the empty line for another 10 minutes, and finally was admitted and registered.
It was worth about half the wasted time. The Salle de lecture is absolutely beautiful. (Check it out:) It's really intense; you get a receipt when you enter with the number of your assigned seat, and there isn't really any talking or anything. You have to request the books you want through the computer system, and can't check them out. I wasn't able to stay for more than 15 minutes as I had to meet Jed for coffee, but will plant myself there at 10am on Saturday morning.
Tonight: rehearsal and exposé work.
Tomorrow: Medieval Art field trip to Chartres. (Good timing, no?)
A book I need to find for my exposé on the rise of medieval cities and the riots at Chartres in 1210, A. Chèdeville's "Chartres et ses campagnes," isn't at any of the bookstores that I've visited. It is, however, at the Bibliothèque Sainte-Genviève, which is steps away from my apartment.
Libraries are a cornerstone of the French university system; indivdual colleges don't have their own libraries, and internet access isn't a given in houses and apartments like it is in the States, so kids pretty much camp out in the libraries. Every time I've walked past the BSG, I've noted the ginormous line outside the door and the groups of kids milling around, smoking cigarettes and downing espresso during study breaks. I really need this book - the exposé is on Monday - so I juiced up my ipod and m'installed at the end of the line. Forty-five mminutes later...
Apparently, you have to be registered to get into the library. Apparently, there was another queue, which was empty, to get registered. Apparently, you need a passport and a photo to register. Apparently, God hates me; I had neither. I trudged back home, got my passport and a photo for my ID, waited in the empty line for another 10 minutes, and finally was admitted and registered.
It was worth about half the wasted time. The Salle de lecture is absolutely beautiful. (Check it out:) It's really intense; you get a receipt when you enter with the number of your assigned seat, and there isn't really any talking or anything. You have to request the books you want through the computer system, and can't check them out. I wasn't able to stay for more than 15 minutes as I had to meet Jed for coffee, but will plant myself there at 10am on Saturday morning.
Tonight: rehearsal and exposé work.
Tomorrow: Medieval Art field trip to Chartres. (Good timing, no?)
Friday, March 23, 2007
etcetera
Turned in my first fac exposé for my Belle Époque class on Monday. Was supposed to present it orally, but kind of freaked out beforehand and the professor took mercy on me. It went something like this:
Betsy: I am so scared and I feel terribly unprepared.
Mme: Are you American?
Betsy: Yes.
Mme: Email me the paper after class.
Betsy: Vive la France.
So that made me life a lot easier. Unfortunately, I have another due on April 2nd - and I won't be able to wriggle out of that one. (It's for the medieval class, and will be on cities in France in the early 13th century. Exciting. Like, actually.)
Made Jed watch "Gigi" with me the other night. I love the movie, but Lerner and Lowe really were predictable. We spent most of the two hours gushing over the clothes; why don't men dress like that anymore? For that matter, why don't women? I'm not advocating corsets or anything, but turn-of-the-century evening gowns are stunning. For example: http://www.imdb.com/gallery/mptv/1337/Mptv/1337/1629_0002.jpg?path=gallery&path_key=0051658
Betsy: I am so scared and I feel terribly unprepared.
Mme: Are you American?
Betsy: Yes.
Mme: Email me the paper after class.
Betsy: Vive la France.
So that made me life a lot easier. Unfortunately, I have another due on April 2nd - and I won't be able to wriggle out of that one. (It's for the medieval class, and will be on cities in France in the early 13th century. Exciting. Like, actually.)
Made Jed watch "Gigi" with me the other night. I love the movie, but Lerner and Lowe really were predictable. We spent most of the two hours gushing over the clothes; why don't men dress like that anymore? For that matter, why don't women? I'm not advocating corsets or anything, but turn-of-the-century evening gowns are stunning. For example: http://www.imdb.com/gallery/mptv/1337/Mptv/1337/1629_0002.jpg?path=gallery&path_key=0051658
Monday, March 12, 2007
a field trip
This past weekend, my Medieval Art and Architrecture class took a fantastic trip to Bourgogne to visit several (mostly) romanesque churches. 
Friday morning we drove 4 hours west to the Abbey of Fontenay, a Cistercian monastery that was founded by a breakaway group of Cluniac monks, led by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who thought that the Cluniac order didn't follow the Rule of Benedict. Consequently, the monastery they built is austere and almost completely devoid of ornamentation. Here's the western facade of the church; notice how it lacks any of the decorative elements we're used to seeing on medieval churches. The interior of the church is similarly bare. (Fontenay bears the hallmarks of roman architecture: heavy, thick walls punctuated only briefly by small windows and an absence of flying butresses.) As the church was completely empty, save our small group, I sang a bit inside, and the acoustics were incredible. I must have echoed for nearly 30 seconds. It was pretty magical. Everything at Fontenay was laid out at right angles; the gardens and the buildings weren't supposed to distract the monks at all from their meditation and prayer. I'm a huge fan of more flamboyant design, but the effect of it all was pretty stunning.
From there we drove to Vézelay, stopping along the way for a yummy lunch at a restaurant where farmwives (sorry to be so un-politially correct) bring their homecooked goodness for weary, cold travelers. (We were weary. It was cold. It was raining. I have never been so glad to sit next to a fire in my life.) Expect recipes to be up soon. Vézelay is a pilgrimage church built at the top of a hill in the middle of nowhere; like Fontenay, it was built in the 12th century. However, although St. Bernard pretty much started the Second Crusade from Vézelay, it has ornamentation like whoa. The facade of the church isn't original, so I won't put up a picture of it, but here's a photo of the interior. Like most churches the held relics, Vézelay has an ambulatory and radiating chapels behind the choir to better direct pilgrim traffic. The nave is romanesque (see above description), but the east end is gothic, as you can see from the huge windows and rib vaulting. (See? I am learning stuff here!)
I'm including a view from the window of my room in the B&B in Vézelay because it was absolutely breathtaking. It poured on Friday night, but Saturday was brilliantly clear, so the other photos here are of the landscape looking down from the church and of the church and town taken as we were driving away.
Our last stop was the Church of St. Lazarus in Autun. It was built to house the relics of - shockingly enough - Lazarus. The architecture was really interesting because it was a mishmash of different styles, as you can see from the photos (the first shows some normal gothicness, the second an explosion of 15th century flamboyant design). This is the cool part: rather than including an ambulatory in the elevation of the church, the architects built a mini church inside the choir itself, which housed the relics. Pilgrims descended into the crypt below the mini church to view them and then reascended on the other side - like Lazarus himself. The symbolism of it all is pretty overwhelming... Christians are so creative! It really is cool, but unfortunately we can't see any of that anymore (except the crypt) because the enlightened thinkers of the 18th century destroyed nearly all of the mini church because they found it to... unenlightened. Good work, enlightened thinkers.
It took 4.5 hours to drive back - we got stuck in traffic for nearly an hour outide Paris - but the sunset over the countryside made it nearly worthwhile.
Friday morning we drove 4 hours west to the Abbey of Fontenay, a Cistercian monastery that was founded by a breakaway group of Cluniac monks, led by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who thought that the Cluniac order didn't follow the Rule of Benedict. Consequently, the monastery they built is austere and almost completely devoid of ornamentation. Here's the western facade of the church; notice how it lacks any of the decorative elements we're used to seeing on medieval churches. The interior of the church is similarly bare. (Fontenay bears the hallmarks of roman architecture: heavy, thick walls punctuated only briefly by small windows and an absence of flying butresses.) As the church was completely empty, save our small group, I sang a bit inside, and the acoustics were incredible. I must have echoed for nearly 30 seconds. It was pretty magical. Everything at Fontenay was laid out at right angles; the gardens and the buildings weren't supposed to distract the monks at all from their meditation and prayer. I'm a huge fan of more flamboyant design, but the effect of it all was pretty stunning.
From there we drove to Vézelay, stopping along the way for a yummy lunch at a restaurant where farmwives (sorry to be so un-politially correct) bring their homecooked goodness for weary, cold travelers. (We were weary. It was cold. It was raining. I have never been so glad to sit next to a fire in my life.) Expect recipes to be up soon. Vézelay is a pilgrimage church built at the top of a hill in the middle of nowhere; like Fontenay, it was built in the 12th century. However, although St. Bernard pretty much started the Second Crusade from Vézelay, it has ornamentation like whoa. The facade of the church isn't original, so I won't put up a picture of it, but here's a photo of the interior. Like most churches the held relics, Vézelay has an ambulatory and radiating chapels behind the choir to better direct pilgrim traffic. The nave is romanesque (see above description), but the east end is gothic, as you can see from the huge windows and rib vaulting. (See? I am learning stuff here!) 
I'm including a view from the window of my room in the B&B in Vézelay because it was absolutely breathtaking. It poured on Friday night, but Saturday was brilliantly clear, so the other photos here are of the landscape looking down from the church and of the church and town taken as we were driving away.
Our last stop was the Church of St. Lazarus in Autun. It was built to house the relics of - shockingly enough - Lazarus. The architecture was really interesting because it was a mishmash of different styles, as you can see from the photos (the first shows some normal gothicness, the second an explosion of 15th century flamboyant design). This is the cool part: rather than including an ambulatory in the elevation of the church, the architects built a mini church inside the choir itself, which housed the relics. Pilgrims descended into the crypt below the mini church to view them and then reascended on the other side - like Lazarus himself. The symbolism of it all is pretty overwhelming... Christians are so creative! It really is cool, but unfortunately we can't see any of that anymore (except the crypt) because the enlightened thinkers of the 18th century destroyed nearly all of the mini church because they found it to... unenlightened. Good work, enlightened thinkers.
It took 4.5 hours to drive back - we got stuck in traffic for nearly an hour outide Paris - but the sunset over the countryside made it nearly worthwhile.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
adventures
LIFE. Yikes. You know that expression, "When it rains, it pours?" It's raining. Metaphorically.
Concert: actually, it wasn't bad. The church wasn't as far away as I had thought. We couldn't hear each other at all, but the acoustics were amazing. The concert itself was in honor of Jean Langlais' centennial (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean_Langlais), so we did his Messe en Style Ancien (which I very reluctantly admitted I liked by the end) and Duruflé's four motets.
Last night K took me to a wine tasting at the Ecole National Superieur. Apparently last night's dégust was a pretty big deal; K told me that two of the panelists were a legendary wine guy and the EIC of France's best-regarded wine magazine. The wines were from Mas de Daumas Gassac. We had four reds and three whites; my favorites were the 2005 red and a dark, exotic white. Everyone else sounded like they knew what they were talking about when they discussed wines, but I'm pretty sure some of the kids were faking it. Regardless, I had a really good time. Afterwards (11pm, yikes) we headed down to Alysia to hang out with some kids K had met on Birthright. Meeting Jews here is a really interesting experience. Like in Lyon, we talked about how France has mostly Sephardic Jews, while the States' Jewish population is mostly Ashkenazic. I've always told people that I study Christianity because I can be objective about it, but I've never actually tried to be anything but subjective about my Judaism. It's hard! Before last night, I had been pretty disenchanted about meeting "real French people," but I had a blast.
So spring in Paris is pretty whack. It was sunny and high 50s on Tuesday, yesterday was cold and rainy, and today is brilliantly bright again. I'm totally confused. When it's nice, though, the city is stunning. I actually walked through the Luxembourg Gardens today instead of around them, and envied all the carefree people lunching on the benches. It's 6pm, though, and it's still light out, so I don't care how confused the weather gets tomorrow.
That's a lie - I do care. My medieval art class is taking a field trip to Bourgogne tomorrow - we're staying through Saturday afternoon. I'm siked; we're going to see some incredible buildings. Plus, Laura's in my class and we haven't had much time to hang out lately. I have tons of work that I should be doing instead of going, but the bus ride is a couple hours each way, so I'll be abble to get some reading done.
You won't hear from me again until Sunday at the earliest because of the trip. I may not be able to post again till Wedesday or Thursday, though, because Dad and Granma are coming to visit on Sunday and I'll be busy
a) being filial
b) writing a grammar paper (Monday)
c) studying for my Itinéraires midterm (Tuesday)
d) studying for my medieval art midterm (Tuesday)
e) writing the rough draft of my Belle Epoque exposé (Thursday)
It's pouring. Metaphorically.
Concert: actually, it wasn't bad. The church wasn't as far away as I had thought. We couldn't hear each other at all, but the acoustics were amazing. The concert itself was in honor of Jean Langlais' centennial (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean_Langlais), so we did his Messe en Style Ancien (which I very reluctantly admitted I liked by the end) and Duruflé's four motets.
Last night K took me to a wine tasting at the Ecole National Superieur. Apparently last night's dégust was a pretty big deal; K told me that two of the panelists were a legendary wine guy and the EIC of France's best-regarded wine magazine. The wines were from Mas de Daumas Gassac. We had four reds and three whites; my favorites were the 2005 red and a dark, exotic white. Everyone else sounded like they knew what they were talking about when they discussed wines, but I'm pretty sure some of the kids were faking it. Regardless, I had a really good time. Afterwards (11pm, yikes) we headed down to Alysia to hang out with some kids K had met on Birthright. Meeting Jews here is a really interesting experience. Like in Lyon, we talked about how France has mostly Sephardic Jews, while the States' Jewish population is mostly Ashkenazic. I've always told people that I study Christianity because I can be objective about it, but I've never actually tried to be anything but subjective about my Judaism. It's hard! Before last night, I had been pretty disenchanted about meeting "real French people," but I had a blast.
So spring in Paris is pretty whack. It was sunny and high 50s on Tuesday, yesterday was cold and rainy, and today is brilliantly bright again. I'm totally confused. When it's nice, though, the city is stunning. I actually walked through the Luxembourg Gardens today instead of around them, and envied all the carefree people lunching on the benches. It's 6pm, though, and it's still light out, so I don't care how confused the weather gets tomorrow.
That's a lie - I do care. My medieval art class is taking a field trip to Bourgogne tomorrow - we're staying through Saturday afternoon. I'm siked; we're going to see some incredible buildings. Plus, Laura's in my class and we haven't had much time to hang out lately. I have tons of work that I should be doing instead of going, but the bus ride is a couple hours each way, so I'll be abble to get some reading done.
You won't hear from me again until Sunday at the earliest because of the trip. I may not be able to post again till Wedesday or Thursday, though, because Dad and Granma are coming to visit on Sunday and I'll be busy
a) being filial
b) writing a grammar paper (Monday)
c) studying for my Itinéraires midterm (Tuesday)
d) studying for my medieval art midterm (Tuesday)
e) writing the rough draft of my Belle Epoque exposé (Thursday)
It's pouring. Metaphorically.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
etcetera
Oh my God, guys, I haven't really posted since Saturday, and it's Tuesday today. I bet you're all wondering if I'm deathly ill or in love or something.
Nope. I spent most of Sunday recovering from Saturday, and yesterday was Monday (day of poo, for those of you who haven't read previous posts). So. Sorry, I guess.
Saturday night Jed and I went to Chez Omar, a Moroccan restaurant in the Marais. My flatmates have been there several times, and it's gotten rave reviews from other friends, so I was totally siked. We got there at 7:30 - way earlier than the cool kids, but it turned out to be a good decision, since all the cool kids come at the same time (9pm) and have to wait an hour to get a table. Jed had steak au poivre, which was good but not terribly original, and I had couscous merguez, which was amazing. Merguez is a long, thin, spicy sausage, and every couscous dish comes with a tureen of veggies in some sort of delicious broth. So good. We also had an Algerian wine called Medea, which went really well with both our dishes. There was a full lunar eclipse on Saturday night, so after dinner we walked down to the Seine to check it out. It had been raining earlier in the day, but the sky cleared up just in time for us to catch the show. It was amazing; the moon, all except a little sliver on the left, was red. Not harvest moon orange, but deep blood red. Kind of spooky, but definitely cool.
AmCath Sunday - I'm making friends! I sit next to Sarah often, so we're becoming friendly; she's a first, but I'm the swing soprano and have been on first most of the time lately. (Sarah's the Brit I said mean things about. I take them all back. She's really good. Sorry, Sarah.) Another soprano, Susannah, is also tons o' fun, but she's going back to the states at the end of March. Plus I pal around with a couple of the tenors before and after rehearsals/services. So this makes me happy.
Monday... Monday. 'Nuff said. Wait, who am I kidding? It's me, and I always have more to say. Was the last day of grammar classes. We'll have individual tutoring sessions with the prof once a week from here on out, which will be much more helpful, but we had a good vibe and I think the class is kind of bummed. Still totally lost in my medieval history class... I'm going to be totally screwed when I have to do my exposé. Went to Gilbert Joseph after classes to get some of the background books I need, and felt very native browsing the shelves of French history.
Concert tonight. The music isn't bad - we're doing the Duruflé motets and Langlais' Messe en Style Ancien - but it's a Tuesday night and the church is all the way out west. I'd rather stay in and read about laïcité during the Belle Epoque. No, that's not sarcastic. I really would. Shmeh.
Nope. I spent most of Sunday recovering from Saturday, and yesterday was Monday (day of poo, for those of you who haven't read previous posts). So. Sorry, I guess.
Saturday night Jed and I went to Chez Omar, a Moroccan restaurant in the Marais. My flatmates have been there several times, and it's gotten rave reviews from other friends, so I was totally siked. We got there at 7:30 - way earlier than the cool kids, but it turned out to be a good decision, since all the cool kids come at the same time (9pm) and have to wait an hour to get a table. Jed had steak au poivre, which was good but not terribly original, and I had couscous merguez, which was amazing. Merguez is a long, thin, spicy sausage, and every couscous dish comes with a tureen of veggies in some sort of delicious broth. So good. We also had an Algerian wine called Medea, which went really well with both our dishes. There was a full lunar eclipse on Saturday night, so after dinner we walked down to the Seine to check it out. It had been raining earlier in the day, but the sky cleared up just in time for us to catch the show. It was amazing; the moon, all except a little sliver on the left, was red. Not harvest moon orange, but deep blood red. Kind of spooky, but definitely cool.
AmCath Sunday - I'm making friends! I sit next to Sarah often, so we're becoming friendly; she's a first, but I'm the swing soprano and have been on first most of the time lately. (Sarah's the Brit I said mean things about. I take them all back. She's really good. Sorry, Sarah.) Another soprano, Susannah, is also tons o' fun, but she's going back to the states at the end of March. Plus I pal around with a couple of the tenors before and after rehearsals/services. So this makes me happy.
Monday... Monday. 'Nuff said. Wait, who am I kidding? It's me, and I always have more to say. Was the last day of grammar classes. We'll have individual tutoring sessions with the prof once a week from here on out, which will be much more helpful, but we had a good vibe and I think the class is kind of bummed. Still totally lost in my medieval history class... I'm going to be totally screwed when I have to do my exposé. Went to Gilbert Joseph after classes to get some of the background books I need, and felt very native browsing the shelves of French history.
Concert tonight. The music isn't bad - we're doing the Duruflé motets and Langlais' Messe en Style Ancien - but it's a Tuesday night and the church is all the way out west. I'd rather stay in and read about laïcité during the Belle Epoque. No, that's not sarcastic. I really would. Shmeh.
Oh my God, guys, I haven't really posted since Saturday, and it's Tuesday today. I bet you're all wondering if I'm deathly ill or in love or something.
Nope. I spent most of Sunday recovering from Saturday, and yesterday was Monday (day of poo, for those of you who haven't read previous posts). So. Sorry, I guess.
Saturday night Jed and I went to Chez Omar, a Moroccan restaurant in the Marais. My flatmates have been there several times, and it's gotten rave reviews from other friends, so I was totally siked. We got there at 7:30 - way earlier than the cool kids, but it turned out to be a good decision, since all the cool kids come at the same time (9pm) and have to wait an hour to get a table. Jed had steak au poivre, which was good but not terribly original, and I had couscous merguez, which was amazing. Merguez is a long, thin, spicy sausage, and every couscous dish comes with a tureen of veggies in some sort of delicious broth. So good. We also had an Algerian wine called Medea, which went really well with both our dishes. There was a full lunar eclipse on Saturday night, so after dinner we walked down to the Seine to check it out. It had been raining earlier in the day, but the sky cleared up just in time for us to catch the show. It was amazing; the moon, all except a little sliver on the left, was red. Not harvest moon orange, but deep blood red. Kind of spooky, but definitely cool.
AmCath Sunday - I'm making friends! I sit next to Sarah often, so we're becoming friendly; she's a first, but I'm the swing soprano and have been on first most of the time lately. (Sarah's the Brit I said mean things about. I take them all back. She's really good. Sorry, Sarah.) Another soprano, Susannah, is also tons o' fun, but she's going back to the states at the end of March. Plus I pal around with a couple of the tenors before and after rehearsals/services. So this makes me happy.
Monday... Monday. 'Nuff said. Wait, who am I kidding? It's me, and I always have more to say. Was the last day of grammar classes. We'll have individual tutoring sessions with the prof once a week from here on out, which will be much more helpful, but we had a good vibe and I think the class is kind of bummed. Still totally lost in my medieval history class... I'm going to be totally screwed when I have to do my exposé. Went to Gilbert Joseph after classes to get some of the background books I need, and felt very native browsing the shelves of French history.
Concert tonight. The music isn't bad - we're doing the Duruflé motets and Langlais' Messe en Style Ancien - but it's a Tuesday night and the church is all the way out west. I'd rather stay in and read about laïcité during the Belle Epoque. No, that's not sarcastic. I really would. Shmeh.
Nope. I spent most of Sunday recovering from Saturday, and yesterday was Monday (day of poo, for those of you who haven't read previous posts). So. Sorry, I guess.
Saturday night Jed and I went to Chez Omar, a Moroccan restaurant in the Marais. My flatmates have been there several times, and it's gotten rave reviews from other friends, so I was totally siked. We got there at 7:30 - way earlier than the cool kids, but it turned out to be a good decision, since all the cool kids come at the same time (9pm) and have to wait an hour to get a table. Jed had steak au poivre, which was good but not terribly original, and I had couscous merguez, which was amazing. Merguez is a long, thin, spicy sausage, and every couscous dish comes with a tureen of veggies in some sort of delicious broth. So good. We also had an Algerian wine called Medea, which went really well with both our dishes. There was a full lunar eclipse on Saturday night, so after dinner we walked down to the Seine to check it out. It had been raining earlier in the day, but the sky cleared up just in time for us to catch the show. It was amazing; the moon, all except a little sliver on the left, was red. Not harvest moon orange, but deep blood red. Kind of spooky, but definitely cool.
AmCath Sunday - I'm making friends! I sit next to Sarah often, so we're becoming friendly; she's a first, but I'm the swing soprano and have been on first most of the time lately. (Sarah's the Brit I said mean things about. I take them all back. She's really good. Sorry, Sarah.) Another soprano, Susannah, is also tons o' fun, but she's going back to the states at the end of March. Plus I pal around with a couple of the tenors before and after rehearsals/services. So this makes me happy.
Monday... Monday. 'Nuff said. Wait, who am I kidding? It's me, and I always have more to say. Was the last day of grammar classes. We'll have individual tutoring sessions with the prof once a week from here on out, which will be much more helpful, but we had a good vibe and I think the class is kind of bummed. Still totally lost in my medieval history class... I'm going to be totally screwed when I have to do my exposé. Went to Gilbert Joseph after classes to get some of the background books I need, and felt very native browsing the shelves of French history.
Concert tonight. The music isn't bad - we're doing the Duruflé motets and Langlais' Messe en Style Ancien - but it's a Tuesday night and the church is all the way out west. I'd rather stay in and read about laïcité during the Belle Epoque. No, that's not sarcastic. I really would. Shmeh.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
etcetera
As this weekend is turning out to be less spectacular than I had planned, I'm posting again. (I think I'm addicted to Blogger: I can't go online without updating. Thank God my apartment doesn't have internet!)
I've been trying to write my Medieval Art paper for a couple days now, but I keep hitting a horrible wall called "the French Style of Paper-Writing." Papers here are very, very strictly formatted: the paper starts with an introduction in which you preview everything you're going to say in the body of the work. It then follows with three (always three) sections of text that are rigidly styled, and ends with a conclusion that repeats, pretty much verbatim, what you said in the introduction. Yes, the format is similar to our American papers, but there's absolutely no flexibility here. American students typically have so much trouble with this kind of writing that we're given a five page outline on how to do it. That's five pages of explication for a two or three page paper. Jeez.
Complicating things is that my professor for this specific course doesn't want us using any negative terms to describe the art we're analysing. I get that we shouldn't use words like "ugly" or phrases like "the artist used a style reminiscent of kindergarden finger-painting" in our papers, but she deems comparisons negative. For instance, when we went to Cluny and were asked to analyse an 11th century statue of the Virgin and Child in respect to a later Virgin and Child we had seen, I was scolded for calling the earlier work "less fluid." Apparently, "less fluid" is pejorative. I realize that maybe the sculptor wasn't trying to achieve fluidity when chisling Mary's robe, but that doesn't mean that the robe is not not fluid. Again, jeez.
Lent I today. Totally forgot that the Lenten season begins with a never-ending litany. At AmCath, however, unlike at Washington, we kneel for the whole thing. And by "we kneel" I really do mean WE kneel: I think the mean soprano I don't like told on me, cause Ned took me aside and asked me to kneel with the rest of the choir, and I doubt he noticed on his own. I don't mind doing it, because I get that we - the choir - are leading worship, but jeez, lady, are you five years old? (Side note: John Wieking, who used to be at the cathedral in Washington, sang with us today. This is the smallest wolrd ever.) Also, I discovered that we aren't a volunteer choir; there are volunteers, and then there are staff singers who are paid. My self-confidence is somewhere around my ankles right now.
Okay, I'm done whining for the day. Promise.
I've been keeping a mental list of the rediculous things I find comforting about Paris, and decided today to jot them down. Enjoy?
- Starbucks doesn't have wireless. McDonalds does.
- Even though the metro station Châtlet is Paris' version of the New Jersey Turnpike, the klezmer band that plays there is fantastic.
- Days that start out sunny never stay that way. Days that start out cloudy never stay that way.
- Professors are consistently late to their own classes.
- "Savez-vous trouver (wherever/whatever)" is a pickup line.
- Coffee is espresso.
- Skim milk doesn't exist.
- No one pushes on the métro; if there's no room, people wait for the next train.
- Women don't really wear nailpolish. They do, however, wear these amazing double-breasted Tinman coats that button all the way up the neck.
- A day without a café visit is a day wasted.
I've been trying to write my Medieval Art paper for a couple days now, but I keep hitting a horrible wall called "the French Style of Paper-Writing." Papers here are very, very strictly formatted: the paper starts with an introduction in which you preview everything you're going to say in the body of the work. It then follows with three (always three) sections of text that are rigidly styled, and ends with a conclusion that repeats, pretty much verbatim, what you said in the introduction. Yes, the format is similar to our American papers, but there's absolutely no flexibility here. American students typically have so much trouble with this kind of writing that we're given a five page outline on how to do it. That's five pages of explication for a two or three page paper. Jeez.
Complicating things is that my professor for this specific course doesn't want us using any negative terms to describe the art we're analysing. I get that we shouldn't use words like "ugly" or phrases like "the artist used a style reminiscent of kindergarden finger-painting" in our papers, but she deems comparisons negative. For instance, when we went to Cluny and were asked to analyse an 11th century statue of the Virgin and Child in respect to a later Virgin and Child we had seen, I was scolded for calling the earlier work "less fluid." Apparently, "less fluid" is pejorative. I realize that maybe the sculptor wasn't trying to achieve fluidity when chisling Mary's robe, but that doesn't mean that the robe is not not fluid. Again, jeez.
Lent I today. Totally forgot that the Lenten season begins with a never-ending litany. At AmCath, however, unlike at Washington, we kneel for the whole thing. And by "we kneel" I really do mean WE kneel: I think the mean soprano I don't like told on me, cause Ned took me aside and asked me to kneel with the rest of the choir, and I doubt he noticed on his own. I don't mind doing it, because I get that we - the choir - are leading worship, but jeez, lady, are you five years old? (Side note: John Wieking, who used to be at the cathedral in Washington, sang with us today. This is the smallest wolrd ever.) Also, I discovered that we aren't a volunteer choir; there are volunteers, and then there are staff singers who are paid. My self-confidence is somewhere around my ankles right now.
Okay, I'm done whining for the day. Promise.
I've been keeping a mental list of the rediculous things I find comforting about Paris, and decided today to jot them down. Enjoy?
- Starbucks doesn't have wireless. McDonalds does.
- Even though the metro station Châtlet is Paris' version of the New Jersey Turnpike, the klezmer band that plays there is fantastic.
- Days that start out sunny never stay that way. Days that start out cloudy never stay that way.
- Professors are consistently late to their own classes.
- "Savez-vous trouver (wherever/whatever)" is a pickup line.
- Coffee is espresso.
- Skim milk doesn't exist.
- No one pushes on the métro; if there's no room, people wait for the next train.
- Women don't really wear nailpolish. They do, however, wear these amazing double-breasted Tinman coats that button all the way up the neck.
- A day without a café visit is a day wasted.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
gird your loins, my friends...
for this is going to be a really long post. Mostly because it's going to be about my really long Monday. What's really long, you ask? Let me tell you. Really long is 6.5 hours of class and 2.5 hours of transporting myself to and from class. Really long is leaving my house at 8:30am and not getting back until 6:30pm. (I know the math doesn't add up; I have a couple minutes here and there in which I catch my breath/buy coffee.)
So. The day starts off with grammar, which could potentially be horrible because, well, it's grammer. However, two of my best friends, Laura and Maria, are in my grammar class, and our professor is fantastic. So that's cool.
I then trot off to my medieval CM (reminder: CMs are lectures, TDs seminars... ish), which is totally confusing. Like I said before, it's the second half of a year-long course, and the professor teaches as if we were all there last semester. (I guess that's his perogative, but it doesn't make things any easier for me.) Plus, he has a penchant for speaking while writing on the board and facing away from us. Awesome. It only lasts an hour, though, and since we don't get homework or grades for the CMs I don't think it really matters.
I then hop the subway to go to one of the Sorbonne's other campuses for the medieval TD. Last week it took me 30 minutes to find the place; I thought I was da coo'est and so tried to get there on my own, without a map and without asking for directions. The experience so humbled me that I asked for directions right after getting out of the subway. The TD was fascinating. First of all, I'm the only American in the class (I think, although there's a British girl who's been here all year). Second, I got to see my first exposé. I almost cried in fear. You're supposed to speak for 20-25 minutes. The girl who was presenting spoke for about 17, and the stuff she had prepared she knew cold Apparently, though, she hadn't prepared enough; the professor grilled her for 20 more minutes after she finished. The rest of the class we spent analyzing another text. It was very cool. Afterwards, since I had missed the first session, I spoke to the professor. He seemed very impressed that I was taking the class, and told me that if I ever had any questions I should email him or talk to him after class. He assigned me an exposé - he said it would be a good opportunity to practice my French. Woohoo. I love practicing my French.
My last class of the day is the TD for thhe Belle Epoque course. The professor is kind of scary. Not academically scary, just scary. (Nana, you'd love her... she yelled at a kid for saying "ouais," which is the French equivalent of "yeah.") We spent the first hour talking about Hector Guimard, and the last hour looking at slides of Art Nouveau works. (http://lartnouveau.com/) I fell in love with this lamp: http://lartnouveau.com/oeuvres/lampes/l3.htm (hint, hint)
Since I had had an eventful weekend, 11 Victor Cousin had a roomie night in. We got an amazing rotisserie chicken from a boucherie around the corner, made sweet potatoes and a colorful salad, and watched the newest Grey's. It was exactly what I needed.
So there's an upside and a downside to these crazy Mondays. Upside: I get all the hard stuff done and over with. Downside: I am totally unmotivated for the rest of the week. Excellent.
So. The day starts off with grammar, which could potentially be horrible because, well, it's grammer. However, two of my best friends, Laura and Maria, are in my grammar class, and our professor is fantastic. So that's cool.
I then trot off to my medieval CM (reminder: CMs are lectures, TDs seminars... ish), which is totally confusing. Like I said before, it's the second half of a year-long course, and the professor teaches as if we were all there last semester. (I guess that's his perogative, but it doesn't make things any easier for me.) Plus, he has a penchant for speaking while writing on the board and facing away from us. Awesome. It only lasts an hour, though, and since we don't get homework or grades for the CMs I don't think it really matters.
I then hop the subway to go to one of the Sorbonne's other campuses for the medieval TD. Last week it took me 30 minutes to find the place; I thought I was da coo'est and so tried to get there on my own, without a map and without asking for directions. The experience so humbled me that I asked for directions right after getting out of the subway. The TD was fascinating. First of all, I'm the only American in the class (I think, although there's a British girl who's been here all year). Second, I got to see my first exposé. I almost cried in fear. You're supposed to speak for 20-25 minutes. The girl who was presenting spoke for about 17, and the stuff she had prepared she knew cold Apparently, though, she hadn't prepared enough; the professor grilled her for 20 more minutes after she finished. The rest of the class we spent analyzing another text. It was very cool. Afterwards, since I had missed the first session, I spoke to the professor. He seemed very impressed that I was taking the class, and told me that if I ever had any questions I should email him or talk to him after class. He assigned me an exposé - he said it would be a good opportunity to practice my French. Woohoo. I love practicing my French.
My last class of the day is the TD for thhe Belle Epoque course. The professor is kind of scary. Not academically scary, just scary. (Nana, you'd love her... she yelled at a kid for saying "ouais," which is the French equivalent of "yeah.") We spent the first hour talking about Hector Guimard, and the last hour looking at slides of Art Nouveau works. (http://lartnouveau.com/) I fell in love with this lamp: http://lartnouveau.com/oeuvres/lampes/l3.htm (hint, hint)
Since I had had an eventful weekend, 11 Victor Cousin had a roomie night in. We got an amazing rotisserie chicken from a boucherie around the corner, made sweet potatoes and a colorful salad, and watched the newest Grey's. It was exactly what I needed.
So there's an upside and a downside to these crazy Mondays. Upside: I get all the hard stuff done and over with. Downside: I am totally unmotivated for the rest of the week. Excellent.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
the rorschach entry
I learned something new in Medieval Art and Architecture today: triforiums are so named because originally they had three arches. Tri = three... who knew?
I survived my first real full Monday, but I'm going to write about it tomorrow. I'm still so glad it's over that I don't want to ruin the magic by remembering it.
The NCS Annual Fund Cochairs sent an email today thanking me for my donation to the school; in the email they included a link to a slideshow from the website. I watched it, and maybe because I'm in a Mood (capital M required) or maybe just because I loved NCS it made me really homesick. Not homesick, exactly, but me-sick. I hate blogs that wax philosophic about whatever just because their authors feel Angsty and Deep (again, capitals required), but it kind of got me thinking about all the mes - that's me, plural - out there. I mean, you're not the same you that you were ten years ago or last year or even yesterday. So what happens to all the old yous? Do they build up, like a million Flat Stanleys all glued together to finally make a 3-D Stanley? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flat_Stanley) Or do the old yous get completely subsumed by the new you? I guess it's kind of irrelevant. The point is, I miss some of the old mes.
(For those of you who love me and read this blog often, yes, I deleted a paragraph. Sorry. Deal with it.)
I promise I won't write an entry like this again - at least, not for a long time. I just needed to indulge the bit of me that was feeling Angsty and Deep.
I think tomorrow I should walk the long way around the Luxembourg Gardens, just to remind myself where I am now.
I survived my first real full Monday, but I'm going to write about it tomorrow. I'm still so glad it's over that I don't want to ruin the magic by remembering it.
The NCS Annual Fund Cochairs sent an email today thanking me for my donation to the school; in the email they included a link to a slideshow from the website. I watched it, and maybe because I'm in a Mood (capital M required) or maybe just because I loved NCS it made me really homesick. Not homesick, exactly, but me-sick. I hate blogs that wax philosophic about whatever just because their authors feel Angsty and Deep (again, capitals required), but it kind of got me thinking about all the mes - that's me, plural - out there. I mean, you're not the same you that you were ten years ago or last year or even yesterday. So what happens to all the old yous? Do they build up, like a million Flat Stanleys all glued together to finally make a 3-D Stanley? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flat_Stanley) Or do the old yous get completely subsumed by the new you? I guess it's kind of irrelevant. The point is, I miss some of the old mes.
(For those of you who love me and read this blog often, yes, I deleted a paragraph. Sorry. Deal with it.)
I promise I won't write an entry like this again - at least, not for a long time. I just needed to indulge the bit of me that was feeling Angsty and Deep.
I think tomorrow I should walk the long way around the Luxembourg Gardens, just to remind myself where I am now.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
happy valentine's day!
There's a student-run program at Columbia called "Stop AIDS in its Tracks," through which kids pass out free condoms on the subways. Only in New York, right? Wrong. Today, in honor of Valentine's Day, people were handing out roses at the entrances to the Sorbonne. The roses were in a brochure that said, "Dans 5 secondes, vous allez avoir un coup de foudre." ("In five seconds, you will fall in love at first sight," basically.) So I opened the packet, and inside, tucked among the roses, was a condom. On the back of the brochure was a clever little math formula: [flower] + [condom] = [heart]. Some things never change, no matter where you go.
I've now had all of my fac classes (except for the stupid medieval history TD that I couldn't find.) I don't really believe in shopping for classes and so I had made my schedule pretty inflexible when I put it together a couple of weeks ago, but luckily everything is coming up roses (and condoms) academically. Today I went to the lecture for the Belle Epoque class; like the medieval history course, it's the second half of a year-long thing, but it seems much more accessible. We talked about the general feeling of optimism and progress that surrounded the time, and about how 1900 was the first time people really got worked up about the century change. I don't know much about this subject, so although history is my thing this feels much more like an elective. (Like I said yesterday, I love learning. Woohoo.)
Tonight: V Day drinks with friends. Ethan has made it clear that he is less than thrilled. This is tons o' fun.
I've now had all of my fac classes (except for the stupid medieval history TD that I couldn't find.) I don't really believe in shopping for classes and so I had made my schedule pretty inflexible when I put it together a couple of weeks ago, but luckily everything is coming up roses (and condoms) academically. Today I went to the lecture for the Belle Epoque class; like the medieval history course, it's the second half of a year-long thing, but it seems much more accessible. We talked about the general feeling of optimism and progress that surrounded the time, and about how 1900 was the first time people really got worked up about the century change. I don't know much about this subject, so although history is my thing this feels much more like an elective. (Like I said yesterday, I love learning. Woohoo.)
Tonight: V Day drinks with friends. Ethan has made it clear that he is less than thrilled. This is tons o' fun.
Monday, February 12, 2007
first day of Sorbonne classes...
and i'm wiped. Seriously. Wiped. Like a bug on a windshield.
Monday, for those of you who haven't heard me crying about it yet, is my hell day:
09h00-10h30: grammaire
11h00-12h00: église et société XIe-XIIe CM
13h00-15h00: église et société XIe-XIIe TD
16h00-18h00: france dans la belle epoque TD
(French universities do things really differently than American ones. Besides the language thing, I mean. All of my classes have a Cours Magistral and Travaux Dirigés. The CM is an hour long lecture that meets once a week. The TD is kind of like a discussion section, except not at all. It's a smaller subgroup of the lecture students, but taught by professors (not teaching assistants), and it doesn't have to cover the same material as the lecture. Also, all of the graded work is handled by the TD professor; I don't think we do any work for the CMs at all.)
Technically, all my Paris IV classes are at the Sorbonne, right down the street from my apartment, but because there are so many students and so many courses there are two other campuses. My église TD is at one of the other campuses - not the offical other campus, but the satelite campus. The satelite satelite campus, if you will. ("Which makes me the Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff!" Bonus points if you know what this is from and who said it.) Anyway, I got totally lost trying to find the place; the point on the map I needed was between two pages in my guidebook, so I was pretty much on my own. I finally found the building and staggered into the classroom... only to find the TD for a XXe century history class. Awesome. Even awesomer: the reception desk's chart showed my TD as having occured from 10h30-12h00 this morning, which is impossible because that's when the CM was held. Being a tenacious young woman who loves learning, I tried to argue with the reception guy for about 20 minutes, but had to give up cause it's difficult to argue in another language when your opponent mumbles and talks really fast. No time to mourn, though; I had to hoof it back to the real Sorbonne for my Belle Epoque TD.
(The Belle Epoque TD prof is notoriously hard; out of 20, the average grade is a 7.5. The class covers from 1895 to 1914, and deals with culture, society, and history. I'm not sure what the workload is like, but everyone has to either do an exposé (an oral presentation) or a textual commentary. Exhibiting the same love of learning and desire to excel academically as I had only two hours earlier, I volunteered to do an exposé. Yikes.)
Tonight we have some kids coming over to watch Le Pen's debate. Yay for quasi-faschist politicians!
p.s. My French vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds because of Ethan. For instance, I learned that "mon choux" means "my sweet" as well as "my cabbage." Who knew?
Monday, for those of you who haven't heard me crying about it yet, is my hell day:
09h00-10h30: grammaire
11h00-12h00: église et société XIe-XIIe CM
13h00-15h00: église et société XIe-XIIe TD
16h00-18h00: france dans la belle epoque TD
(French universities do things really differently than American ones. Besides the language thing, I mean. All of my classes have a Cours Magistral and Travaux Dirigés. The CM is an hour long lecture that meets once a week. The TD is kind of like a discussion section, except not at all. It's a smaller subgroup of the lecture students, but taught by professors (not teaching assistants), and it doesn't have to cover the same material as the lecture. Also, all of the graded work is handled by the TD professor; I don't think we do any work for the CMs at all.)
Technically, all my Paris IV classes are at the Sorbonne, right down the street from my apartment, but because there are so many students and so many courses there are two other campuses. My église TD is at one of the other campuses - not the offical other campus, but the satelite campus. The satelite satelite campus, if you will. ("Which makes me the Deputy Deputy Chief of Staff!" Bonus points if you know what this is from and who said it.) Anyway, I got totally lost trying to find the place; the point on the map I needed was between two pages in my guidebook, so I was pretty much on my own. I finally found the building and staggered into the classroom... only to find the TD for a XXe century history class. Awesome. Even awesomer: the reception desk's chart showed my TD as having occured from 10h30-12h00 this morning, which is impossible because that's when the CM was held. Being a tenacious young woman who loves learning, I tried to argue with the reception guy for about 20 minutes, but had to give up cause it's difficult to argue in another language when your opponent mumbles and talks really fast. No time to mourn, though; I had to hoof it back to the real Sorbonne for my Belle Epoque TD.
(The Belle Epoque TD prof is notoriously hard; out of 20, the average grade is a 7.5. The class covers from 1895 to 1914, and deals with culture, society, and history. I'm not sure what the workload is like, but everyone has to either do an exposé (an oral presentation) or a textual commentary. Exhibiting the same love of learning and desire to excel academically as I had only two hours earlier, I volunteered to do an exposé. Yikes.)
Tonight we have some kids coming over to watch Le Pen's debate. Yay for quasi-faschist politicians!
p.s. My French vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds because of Ethan. For instance, I learned that "mon choux" means "my sweet" as well as "my cabbage." Who knew?
Friday, February 9, 2007
adventures
Posting photos is a total pain - don't expect too many too often. That being said, I know some of you - ahem, my family - will have a cow if I don't put any up at all, so... awesome.
First rehearsal at AmCath last night, and obviously it's the day my cold decides to shift into bronchitisness. Luckily, they were finishing up a Christmas recording for the first hour and a half, so I only had to sing - "sing" - for the last thirty minutes. I actually learned way, way more by watching the choir during the recording session that I would have by joining in. They really are pretty good; most of the problems I noticed were picky things, and they responded really well when Ned told them to change something. (Ned, by the way, reminds me so much of Mr. Neswick! They both yell at people in the exact same way, using the exact same tone, and use some of the same phrases. Plus, anyone who tries to get grown adults to do "my dog has fleas" to a psalm is okay is my book.) Of all the sections, however, the sopranos are the most worrisome. I don't know then really well, and I haven't had much of a chance to sing with them and find out how they work, but the balance of power - both vocal and otherwise - seems pretty off. The altos include a couple of countertenors (and Ryland Angel, who wasn't there. He kind of freaks me out; he did a guest solo thing at St. Michael's a couple Easters ago and has no register shifts. Weird.) and were fine, and the tenors and basses were really strong. Sunday we're doing a Sowerby piece - hooray for singing again!
Sorbonne classes start on Monday... eek! My mother gently reminded me that I haven't yet written on my Reid Hall classes, so here goes. Everybody has to take a grammar class; we spend two months reviewing advanced grammar and syntactical stuff, and then for the rest of the semester we meet with our profs once a week to go over our fac coursework. The classes are divided into levels three and four, with two sections in each level. I placed into the bottom of the fourth, and I'm mostly really happy with it. It's definitely where I'm supposed to be, and where most of my classmates should be, but there are a couple kids who must have tested beyond their abilities, because they just don't get some of the basics. That, or they just don't pay attention when we review things. Either way, it's frustrating. I have some friends in the class, though, and the professor is fantastic. His name is François Theuiller, and we're crazy about him. He is a very good teacher, very patient and creative, but also has a great sense of humor. We all pretty much want to be best friends with him. My Medieval Art and Architecture class hasn't really gotten off the ground yet, but the prof was the intstructor for my orientation group, so I know her a little. She's very into her subject, which is great, but seems kind of easy. I guess that's a good thing, considering all the coursework I'm going to have, but since I'm into her subject, too, I want to be challenged. The last Reid Hall class I'm signed up for is Paris Parcours. Professor Dequeker is a history professor, and I'm not sure what I expected from the course description (there are two parcours: one, mine, is the history option and the other is architecture and culture), but he's teaching it as a class on the history of Paris as told through its buildings and neighborhoods. It's really cool, actually; on the first day of class we read some of De Gaulle's memoires and talked about the Paris/France he saw, and discussed how he orchestrated his entrance into Paris after it was liberated. (Rather than meeting the head of the Resistance at the Hôtel de Ville, he went straight to his old office at the Ministry of War and sat down at his old desk, symbolically ignoring the Vichy government and indicating that he - and the Republic of France - were back. Sounds like an arrogant sob, but he definitely had style.) This class meets twice a week, once to hit the streets for three hours and once to discuss and have student presentations for an hour. I wasn't looking forward to this class at first, but now I totally am. The only downside is that since I've gotten really into the class, I'm totally become that girl who always raises her hand. Yikes.
On the books for this weekend: a date with a French boy (!), watching some 6 Nations rugby, and singing. Send me emails, guys! I want to know what you're doing, too.
(My address here is:
Betsy Remes
c/o Columbia University
Reid Hall
4 rue de Chevreuse
75006 Paris FRANCE
hint, hint.)
P.S. If I make typos, please let me know. I'm a punctuation snob, but I don't really do spelling.
First rehearsal at AmCath last night, and obviously it's the day my cold decides to shift into bronchitisness. Luckily, they were finishing up a Christmas recording for the first hour and a half, so I only had to sing - "sing" - for the last thirty minutes. I actually learned way, way more by watching the choir during the recording session that I would have by joining in. They really are pretty good; most of the problems I noticed were picky things, and they responded really well when Ned told them to change something. (Ned, by the way, reminds me so much of Mr. Neswick! They both yell at people in the exact same way, using the exact same tone, and use some of the same phrases. Plus, anyone who tries to get grown adults to do "my dog has fleas" to a psalm is okay is my book.) Of all the sections, however, the sopranos are the most worrisome. I don't know then really well, and I haven't had much of a chance to sing with them and find out how they work, but the balance of power - both vocal and otherwise - seems pretty off. The altos include a couple of countertenors (and Ryland Angel, who wasn't there. He kind of freaks me out; he did a guest solo thing at St. Michael's a couple Easters ago and has no register shifts. Weird.) and were fine, and the tenors and basses were really strong. Sunday we're doing a Sowerby piece - hooray for singing again!
Sorbonne classes start on Monday... eek! My mother gently reminded me that I haven't yet written on my Reid Hall classes, so here goes. Everybody has to take a grammar class; we spend two months reviewing advanced grammar and syntactical stuff, and then for the rest of the semester we meet with our profs once a week to go over our fac coursework. The classes are divided into levels three and four, with two sections in each level. I placed into the bottom of the fourth, and I'm mostly really happy with it. It's definitely where I'm supposed to be, and where most of my classmates should be, but there are a couple kids who must have tested beyond their abilities, because they just don't get some of the basics. That, or they just don't pay attention when we review things. Either way, it's frustrating. I have some friends in the class, though, and the professor is fantastic. His name is François Theuiller, and we're crazy about him. He is a very good teacher, very patient and creative, but also has a great sense of humor. We all pretty much want to be best friends with him. My Medieval Art and Architecture class hasn't really gotten off the ground yet, but the prof was the intstructor for my orientation group, so I know her a little. She's very into her subject, which is great, but seems kind of easy. I guess that's a good thing, considering all the coursework I'm going to have, but since I'm into her subject, too, I want to be challenged. The last Reid Hall class I'm signed up for is Paris Parcours. Professor Dequeker is a history professor, and I'm not sure what I expected from the course description (there are two parcours: one, mine, is the history option and the other is architecture and culture), but he's teaching it as a class on the history of Paris as told through its buildings and neighborhoods. It's really cool, actually; on the first day of class we read some of De Gaulle's memoires and talked about the Paris/France he saw, and discussed how he orchestrated his entrance into Paris after it was liberated. (Rather than meeting the head of the Resistance at the Hôtel de Ville, he went straight to his old office at the Ministry of War and sat down at his old desk, symbolically ignoring the Vichy government and indicating that he - and the Republic of France - were back. Sounds like an arrogant sob, but he definitely had style.) This class meets twice a week, once to hit the streets for three hours and once to discuss and have student presentations for an hour. I wasn't looking forward to this class at first, but now I totally am. The only downside is that since I've gotten really into the class, I'm totally become that girl who always raises her hand. Yikes.
On the books for this weekend: a date with a French boy (!), watching some 6 Nations rugby, and singing. Send me emails, guys! I want to know what you're doing, too.
(My address here is:
Betsy Remes
c/o Columbia University
Reid Hall
4 rue de Chevreuse
75006 Paris FRANCE
hint, hint.)
P.S. If I make typos, please let me know. I'm a punctuation snob, but I don't really do spelling.
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