Musee Camondo and Musee Dapper

While Paris keeps up its interminable gray weather and frequent rain, I decided to venture out today and catch up on a few museums since I didn't get around to doing anything last weekend with "le gastro." One of the best parts about my host dad is that since he's an art historian, he knows his museums down pat. For today, he told me to check out the Musee Nissim Camondo and the Musee Dapper.

From the Place de Clichy, where I live, I made my way down the rue Batignoles to the Musee Nissim Camondo. The museum is similar to the Musee Jacquemart Andre in that it was a private house and collection bequeathed to the Institiut de France. The Camondos rose to prominence as a wealthy Jewish banking family in Constantinople, before moving to France in the 19th century. Here, in Paris, they quickly integrated into high society and constructed a remarkably modern (for the late 19th century) mansion looking out over the Parc Monceau. The family was incredibly active in collecting 18th century furniture and decorative arts, in addition to plenty of paintings, including a great portrait of one of the older Camondos by Pierre Bonnard (of whom a brand new exhibition just opened up here). So, their three-story mansion, replete with private quarters, receiving and dining rooms, a library, sitting rooms, plus the incredibly cool industrial-capacity kitchen (for dinner parties with more than 50 different plates) and servant's quarters, is full of beautiful things.

One of the most interesting and saddening parts of the museum is its history. The museum is named after Nissim Camondo, the last male heir of the Camondos, who died as a fighter pilot during World War One. After his death, his father retreated inwards, throwing occasional dinner parties, but preferring solitude. Nissim's sister was the only surviving Camondo, who married and had two young children. When the Nazis invaded Paris in 1939, she stayed put with her family, thinking her family's considerable aid to the French state would keep her safe. Unfortunately, her, along with her husband and two young children were taken to Auschwitz, where they all passed away in 1943. Her father, who had passed away in 1935, had already left his mansion, with its considerable amount of french cultural treasures, to the Institut de France.

After the Camondo, I walked down the Boulevard Haussman to the Arc de Triomphe, from there, I took the Avenue Victor Hugo down to the modern-looking Musee Dapper, which specializes in African and African diaspora art. The exhibit right now is on the African heritage of Brazilian art (here's the exhibit site, sorry, french only). The exhibit includes lots of Congolese art and religious and some contemporary art from Brazil. There was everything from rather creepy-looking Congolese idols to slave cuffs to some modern paintings. My favorites were small Brazilian christian shrines, small open chests with various religious objects inside. The museum also has a great vibe in general, and you can go through it in under an hour. Plus, it's one of the few non-European art museums. There's also a very nice-looking cafe, which was inexplicably closed and an African art book centered gift shop.

After all of that walking and standing, I figured it was time for a snack. So, I headed back to Place de Clichy on the metro and picked up some special ham and goat cheese from Monoprix, plus a baguette. I walked back into the apartment with my bag of food, and my host dad looked at me like I had just brought back a roasted ham or turkey. He looked concerned, "you didn't eat lunch, Isaac?"

I explained to him that I was just having a snack because I'd been walking around. I don't really think he understood. (The french really don't snack much between meals.)