A Variation on Musical Chairs

I love music.


I miss my Bose radio/cd player and am on a mission to find a suitable replacement for the flat. But until my mission is accomplished, I am happy to say that Paris provides daily doses of music. From the lovely soprano who serenades diners at Aux Trois Mailletz to the Sunday concerts at Luxembourg, Paris resonates with les chansons d’amour.

Musicians perform in the Metro, on street corners and in plazas all over the city. There is the teenager who leans against the wall of the lycée (in which he should be seated) on Blvd St. Michel, playing an accordion for tips...he only knows one song, The Anniversary Waltz, but he plays it with gusto. My “friend” from NYC, plays selections from Handel’s Water Music and The Godfather on the steel drums on the bridges near Notre Dame. There are roving bands that pop up all over the place, like the brass and drum ensemble of a dozen 20-somethings who play everything from Louis Armstrong and Edith Piaf to Zydeco! I saw them over by the Louvre one day and in front of the Luxembourg the next! One of my favorites are the guys who wheel a piano out of their apartment to a bridge over on Ile de St. Louis, and with a bass, saxophone and sometimes drums, play so many golden oldie jazz favorites. Bill and I snag chairs at one of the cafes near the bridge, sip something cool while listening to something smooth.

The city is alive with the sound of music...ah...ah...ah...ah...

Recently, I have been so immersed in music that I was close to auditory overload...but I survived! My daughter Emily and I were pleasantly surprised and then a bit overwhelmed on the eve of the summer solstice when, as we strode outside for Reilly’s evening walk, only to find every street corner, restaurant and any open space available was occupied by musical ensembles. There were school kids with their electric guitars and drum sets banging out the latest Justin Bieber teeny-bopper be bop, hard core rock bands making LOUD music to hordes of head banging Gen Y/Gen Me/Gen Why Me-ers and we listened to soloists singing operatic arias, hushing the spectators, enticing them to listen to the delicate yet complex compostions. We came upon an Indonesian group playing La Vie En Rose, on bamboo thumb instruments...kind of like a hand held harp or xylophone, music made by striking a various sized tines sticking out of bamboo tubes...très cool. We were joined by hundreds of thousands of people moving from one street performance to another...our normally 45 minute routine with Reilly stretched to nearly 2 hours...I brought the dog in and Emily came in to change her clothes and head back out into the musical melee. I was a bit nervous for her, but, with the assurance that she had her cell phone and a promise she would stay out in the main street areas, Emily dove in! She lasted about another hour and then came in to join me in my boudoir perch above the Café...we had a dueling band concert right outside our window which lasted until 2am! Hopefully Bill will be back in Paris for next year’s fete du musique on the eve of the summer solstice!

A little over a week ago, Emily, my HS friend Alison, who now resides in Bretagne, and I went to see Les Miserables, Victor Hugo’s story of France, politics, love and redemption. The Andrew Lloyd Webber musical was presented in English (whew for me and Em) and with French subtitles on large screens around the stage for our fellow French theater goers. The performance was wonderful. It was here that we first noticed the French version of musical chairs.

We arrived at the theater Chatelet about 30 minutes before the scheduled start of the musical. Having not attended the theater in Paris before, we wanted to give ourselves plenty of time to stand in line and or find our seats. Visitors’ tip...many of the tourist attractions in Paris have on-line ticket purchasing. You may pay a bit more for the ticket, but not having to stand in line for a long time is worth the small investment. We had purchased our seats on-line and were able to jump the queue and go right on in to find our seats. Our ticket price would have been the same for the show if we waited in line for the box office, so we really lucked out. Back to musical chairs, part un.

We found our seats and admired the old theater. It reminded us of the Colonial Theater in Boston. We chatted for a while and Alison spotted a young man from her town a few rows away from us. This fall, he is going to be performing in the same production of Les Mis as her son and daughter...so off she went to say hello. About 5 minutes before the start of the play, a loud bell rang. Emily and I thought it was either a fire alarm or someone was stuck in an elevator. The patrons seated around us didn’t seem alarmed and the ushers kept ushering people to their seats. We did notice that small groups of people entered the balcony where we were seated and milled about the doors and around empty seats. We saw a few sit in an empty seat and the pop over a seat or two to another empty chair...curious. Alison returned and explained that the bell served as a notice that the play would start in 5 minutes...why the darned thing had to ring for the entire 5 minutes is beyond me...give me the gentle flicker of lights in our Boston theaters, any day.

An elderly couple arrived during the cacophony and sat two rows back from the hand carved balcony rail...atop which was a thin iron safety rail that sadly fell right in the line of sight of the old folks. Scooching up and down wasn’t going to cut it, so the old woman hopped out of her seat and took an empty seat in the first row. As the lights started to dim, a young woman was escorted to the front row by the usher and the old bird got bumped back to her seat. And the milling crowds, strategically scoping out open seats pounced on any available vacancies. No one bothered to check tickets...and well into the first ten minutes of the play, people were still shifting about the balcony and even on the floor below.



After a long first act...almost 90 minutes, it was time for intermission. People got up to stretch legs and get some refreshments. Because of the length of the acts, intermission was shortened and round two of musical chairs began. The people who were seated next to us returned with an extra person. The couple in front of us had empty seats on either side of them during the first act. When a couple of would-be seat usurpers asked them if they would mind moving down so they could take two seats together, the young woman told the encroaching gentleman that the seats were taken. Interesting tactic! Off to our right, a group of 6-8 students/tourists/budding actors filled in a whole section of now vacant seats. I can only assume that the previous occupants upgraded their seats in the seat swapping shuffle. The annoying bell rang for only 4 minutes this time...the scramble settled down as the lights lowered and the second act opened. After an engaging performance, the audience rose to their feet and offered a standing ovation. And then it was over. A lovely musical experience and bit of cultural quirkiness and then the exit...I am accustomed to people allowing the rows in front of them exit first and then you follow, safely, orderly, and politely. Well, as Emily and I were seated at the end of the third row from the front of the balcony, we politely waited for the folks below to exit, but the people next to us were having none of that...the man next to me started pushing us out into the aisle. I turned to look at him and ask him to wait ...remember the elderly couple with the safety rail obscured sightline?...they were on their way by us...but Mr. “I have to rush into the crush of humanity on the stairs only to stop right outside the exit in order to light up my cigarette” kept pushing. I held my ground, so he climbed over the seat. By the time his fait acompli was complete, Emily and I exited the row, followed by his seat mates and we made him wait. I could barely contain my snarky grin.

Musical Chairs, part deux: Summer is the season of the open air concerts in Paris. We are in the midst of the Paris Jazz festival, the Celebration of Latin America and the Caribbean, as well as the 200th anniversary of Chopin’s birth. Each weekend, several ensembles and soloists descend upon le Jardin du Luxembourg and from a large gazebo, enthrall hundreds of concert goers with superb musical interpretations. We have had the pleasure of listening to high school and collegiate bands, professional musicians and the occasional Next Nouvelle Star (French version of American Idol) wannabe...all gratis by the way. Here’s where we got to play in the next round of Paris Musical Chairs. A couple of Sundays ago, we decided to make a day of it up at Luxembourg. We packed up a few provisions and a towel for Reilly and headed up the street for a quiet afternoon of catching up on the English-language newspapers Bill brought back from recent travels and to finish up a book I was reading. We walked to the part of the gardens where dogs are allowed and looked for a premium spot to listen to the concert later in the day and maximize the shade for the afternoon, as it was too hot to sit in the sun. We found a lovely shade tree and Bill set off to find a couple of the famous Luxembourg chairs. Many of the large parks and gardens in Paris provide heavy metal lawn chairs for people to use whilst in the environs. There are straight back side chairs, arm chairs and the much prized slant backed lounge style...all painted a pale green and as heavy as the dickens and stamped with “Senat”for the Luxembourg chairs, Tulleries for the Tulleries chairs and JdP for Jardin du Plantes..the rightful locations for said chairs. I doubt it would be easy to steal one of these heavy things, but if found outside the garden, they could readily be returned. I suppose you would have some explaining to do if you knicked one of them. They are a precious resource in places where picnic tables are non-existent and benches are usually covered in pigeon poop.

So Reilly and I guarded our spot while Bill sought out 2 chairs. We observed that many a lone person had two chairs...one upon which to sit, another used as a footstool or side table. This type of hoarding of chairs is only tolerated for so long. We watched one woman sleep in her makeshift lounge for nearly 3 hours. The moment she awoke, someone came over to her and asked her for the chair being used as a footstool. She begrudgingly agreed, and remained in her chair for a long time after. Speaking of a long time, Bill made it back with two chairs and we settled in, ready to read and people watch. We developed a little game...Will the seat of this chair get cold? We counted the seconds from the time someone vacated a chair to the time the next person snagged it...the longest time was for 2 chairs not far from us...9 seconds...the shortest, 3 seconds!


As the afternoon wore on and the time for the concert grew near, Musical Chairs ramped up in intensity. People marched all over the gardens in search of chairs and carried the heavy prizes, sometimes dragging them, raising a gritty dusty cloud, toward the gazebo not 50 yards from where we sat, calm, cool and collected in the shade of our chestnut tree. At this point too, the tolerance level for one person using two chairs was nil and saving a chair was a big no-no. We witnessed a woman sitting with her children get up to chase an errant child only to return to her spot sans chaise...someone walked over and snatched it away while she was on her child hunt.

Reilly had her towel on the ground...dogs are not allowed on the grass...and people are restricted to a special grassy area, far from the gazebo. Seeing Reilly spread out on her little oasis amidst the grit, dust and detritus seemed puzzling and amusing to most passers-by...many an odd expression or comment were directed our way. But, more often than not, people smiled at the spoiled little tail-wagger and many a person stopped to scratch her behind the ears. A couple of children made their way over during the course of the day too, stealing a corner of the towel and patting the snoozing starlet.

At 5pm, the Chopin piano concert began. It was extraordinary. Much like the musical chairs at Les Mis, for the first 10 minutes or so of the concert, people moved chairs about to get a better view. If a chair closer to the piano opened up, there would be a quick darting of people to sit there. Only one would be victorious and such monkey-business would only be allowed for a short while. Free concert or not, this was a concert and etiquette must be observed. We witnessed two young women snipe a couple of chairs on the periphery of the concert area and one proceeded to make a phone call on her cell. The music grew louder and so did her voice and quite quickly, she was shushed by the folks around her. Her friend thought this was laughable...and laughed loudly at her friend...only to be quieted into submission herself, not by shushing, but by a multitude of angry French glares. It was most effective. The girls were met by some boys and they left the concert quietly. 3 seconds and the seats were filled.

After an hour of wonderful piano music, the concert ended and people applauded. Then they got up and walked away from the once precious chairs...precious enough to drag from one end of the garden to the gazebo...but not a soul returned the chairs to whence they had come. In the rhythm of this game of musical chairs, people would come from other parts of the park and drag a chair or two to a spot in the waning sunlight or to join a group ready to discuss a book or hot topic...the music stopped, but the chairs keep on moving.