More art than you can poke a stick at. Not that you should poke sticks at art, as it wouldn't be safe.

A sunny day dawned Friday, and after changing hotels, I set off, with the fairly unclever thought 'well that doesn't look too far' to walk to the Musee Quai Branly. Along the way I got distracted by the Musee du Luxembourg, where a Titian exhibition was on, probably should have considered the poster a little more, with regard to the fact that it was Titian's portraits being exhibited, and perhaps reflected along the lines 'I find portraiture fairly dull, except for Howard Arkley's portrait of Nick Cave, and it would seem unlikely that that is going to be in an exhibition of Titian's portraits for the obvious reason that it was painted by Arkley, not Titian'. But anyway, I went and saw it, along with approximately 14000 French people. So it was both crowded, and fairly uninteresting. There were a couple of jawdroppingly good paintings in there though, so the effort was worthwhile. But it was so crowded I didn't even look in the gift shop. THAT is crowded.

Then I went and had lunch. Potato avec quatre fromages. Happiness was mine.

Then I continued my trek. Note that my cheerful plan to just wander along to the gallery has thus far included another exhibition and a break for a main meal. I was entertained to see a whole bunch of kids apparently running their cross country in the Jardin du Luxembourg; a bit different from Asquith oval that. It must have been the day for small children to be running about Paris because when I got to the Seine there was another bunch of them, running in circles around a lawn, and I got to see the deeply amusing site of a manicured french dog trying to bond with the small children by chasing them, with its equally manicured owner chasing it, shouting at it in an increasingly irate fashion. Ah, entertainment. I'm also happy to report that by the end of the week in Paris I was able to stop thinking to myself, every time I saw french children 'You're so smart! You can speak FRENCH! At your age!'

I finally made it to Quai Branly, which is the latest large museum to open in Paris. Some of you will have seen it in the papers a few months ago when it opened - it is dedicated to displaying collections of 'non-western' art, from former ethnographic collections that were gathered by missionaries, anthropologists, artists etc. So it is a very strange project, as it links together an incredible range of material, largely along the lines of 'stuff that was formerly considered too primitive to be art, or to be exhibited along with 'real' art' - but obviously the effect of exhibiting it all together, apart from western art, leaves a real danger of reinforcing that view. This is addressed in some text panels, along with the museum's purpose of trying to further understanding amongst the world's peoples etc. So it really started to piss me off that the vast range of text labels and wall panels were only in French. Some larger panels that introduced whole sections were in English (and I think Spanish) as well, but the pieces for each object were only in French, which I think really hampers achieving their purpose. In art galleries and most other places it didn't bother me that things were only in French, it's fair enough, what with it being France and all, but considering their intention of being an international collection, and that there is not only one way to understand and interpret the objects on display, it really made it impossible to understand a lot of the exhibits. My other gripe was the bizarre display of Australian indigenous art, where everything was under low lighting - necessary for the bark paintings for conservation, but for contemporary paintings of acrylic on canvas it created this weird aura of faux-antiquity. Of course this could have been explained in the text panels but I wouldn't know. The museum looks better from the outside than the inside I think - all pointy angles and native grasses in a style reminiscent of the National Museum of Australia - inside there is a ramp which takes you from the entrance up to the actual exhibit, which goes for about half a kilometre, and for no obvious purpose. There are a few quotes projected onto the wall, and a couple of different angles where you get to view things from unusual perspectives, but no achievable aim was met. One very cool part of it is that they have a huge collection of African traditional instruments, which can't all be displayed at once, but they have stored them in a huge circular atrium with glass walls, so you can see some of them even while they are in storage. Once you eventually emerge at the top of the enormous white ramp you enter the dimply lit space of the actual gallery, which is fairly odd, featuring as it does five foot walls covered in what appears to be ochre coloured 'leather' - seems to be attempting to create a faux-cave feel, with odd overtones of 'getting back to nature'. The Aboriginal art that is included in the building, to much joy and fanfare by the Australian press, is largely on the ceilings of the gift shop and the office space, so it can be seen from the outside of the gallery, and it does look very good, but mostly as an interior design technique rather than as a particular leap forward in recognition for aboriginal art on the world stage. The actual collection is amazing, incredible pieces from all over the world, from Australia to Native America. But a very mixed experience!

After that I went and had a coke and some frites and was charged 11 euro for the privilege. Note to self: read menus carefully when near the Eiffel Tower!

Then, I decided on more walking - I went to the Arc de Triomphe, sat and marvelled at the crazy driving - six lanes of traffic all following where their hearts lead them - then went for a wander down Les Champs Elysees. I bought a new cardy. Because I am a Nanna.