I have always loved going to Fête de la Musique, that rowdy, crowded, and almost anything goes music festival that celebrates the summer solstice. The crowds of inebriated merrymakers reminds me of Mardi Gras in New Orleans, minus the costumes and parades. 
This year, I thought I would approach Paris’s ultimate street party in a more organised, even calculated manner. I spent a few hours at least studying the program of musical offerings guaranteed to suit just about every taste you can have in music.
Usually I just wing it in my own neighborhood, floating along the city streets, allowing my ears to pull me in that direction or another, till the sun has long set and my exhaustion level barometer said it was time to head home.
My own personal music tastes centers mostly on the majestic compositions of classical composers to the silky smooth beats of Jazz. The rest may be engaging and exotic vocal renditions of blues and soul.
This year I leaned towards taking in specifically classical music events, with a bent towards medieval or classical baroque, which always intrigues me. Maybe my psyche was searching for smoothing streams and notes.
I have never been a fan of jarring bold cords of electro rock, or twanging techno renditions. If it’s got to be loud, then a good old fashioned rock and roll band playing the popular tunes I grew up with.
The Beatles, Mick Jagger, and the Bee Gees were all the rage the first time I ever laid my feet on the cobblestone streets of Paris as a very dreamy eyed and way too naive young woman from Louisiana. We are all up there in age now; some of us trying to forget how old we are, and still banging away with whatever turns us on.
I mentally laid out my route from one concert to the other, going through some of my favorite quartiers that I like to walk through anytime just for the joy. I had no intention of using transports to get from one event to another, except to deposit me in front of Luxembourg gardens, where my trek began.
I am not the most organised person in the world, except in the kitchen, where every second counts or else. I certainly failed in several counts in planning my event from the beginning, especially in walking time. I walk fast, but I had a lot of Paris to cover!
Additionally, the big problem this year, was that the majority of what I had hoped to see started around 7 pm; which is a year round sacrosanct time of either being in the midst of cooking or settling down to the beginning of my evening feasts.
I can and have rushed to a 9pm and occasional 8pm opening for the theater, but before, is like asking too much! Call it an obsession or a ridiculous rigidity, or both, but mea culpa, my candlelight dinners are not to be rushed affairs!
I am not an eat on the go person, and although street food may have its merit, I can’t imagine grabbing something in hand to sloppily nibble and munch while I walk. To me that is nothing worse than mindlessly stuffing one’s gut, or as the French say bouffer!
As long as I have had the pleasure of eating a beautifully prepared meal, finishing with one of my home made desserts, like the Hungarian cherry cake, then I am ready to go with much glee and joy!
Well, getting back to Fête de La Musique, after my little gastronomical divergence, I ended up taking off a tad too late! First stop was the church of Saint Étienne du Mont, behind the Panthéon.
Abba, a home grown Catholic group was singing and dancing in front of the steps, inviting the crowd to join in Hebrew songs and dance. It was a nice ecumenical scene on the steps of one of Paris’s prettiest smaller churches that sits on the ancient grounds of Saint Genevieve Abbey, where the reliquary of the patron Saint of Paris is honored by her faithful.
Before leaving, I quickly entered the candlelit church for a moment of prayerful silence and gratitude, before setting out towards blvd Saint Michel to cross into the 6 th arrondissement. 
Walking by the Faculté de Droit(Law School), I spotted a very weird gathering of folks wearing pointed helmets fashioned from aluminum foil.
They were dancing around a man bent over in a bright red santa suit, weaving his arms from side to side like the town drunk, with an occasional clash of a cymbal. Maybe they were left over vikings calling out to their ancestors on the solstice, or who knows an initiation rite into an outer world mystical society?
Paris has her share of residential mentally deranged people who seem to delight in scattering crowds as they mumble, shout, threaten, and lecture to anyone brave enough to hang around. Strangely enough, they seemed retired from the evening festivities, perhaps knowing they would be replaced with even more ridiculous yet sane imitations of their psychoses.
Crossing over Blvd Saint Michel, I started to walk up narrow old Rue École de Médecine as a short cut to Blvd Saint Germain des Prés and Odeon. To my great surprise, I caught a glance of a building that I had never paid attention to before.
It turned out to be the L’ Académie Royale de Chirurgie (surgery) with a cute doomed top just before the beginning of the medical school of Paris. Also there was a plaque indicating that the great French actress, Sarah Bernhardt was born on that street in 1844. Just around the corner on the interconnecting Rue Hautefeuille was born Charles Baudelaire. Must have been something in the well water at that time.
Outdoor cafés were jam-packed on Blvd Saint Germain de Prés as I turned on bustling Rue Buci going to the Musée Eugene Delacroix, where I had hoped to hear a medieval troop playing in the courtyard.
Located on Place Furstenberg, a pretty and cosy part of the 6th, I arrived just in time to be greeted by the huge closed green doors. Disappointed, but undaunted, I struck out again, passing by a lone violinist tucked in a side street, where I could have stayed if not for my now pressed “schedule”.
On Rue de Seine, I had to squeeze through a mass of tight bodies(at least well groomed), all singing melodious old French songs. I did not spare any time, as it was already half past 9. The impressive Institute de France on the left bank of the Seine would have made a good stage for a concert, but looked desolate.
Crossing the Seine on old Pont Neuf, I stopped briefly to take some photos of the creamy apricot and golden colored setting sunlight against the blue sky, highlighting Les Invalides and the Eiffel Tower in the background. 
It wasn’t too much further to reach the huge Church of Saint Eustache, who was having their own 36 hour music fest between Sunday Masses. Besides its massive beauty, it is famous for being where the future king Louis XIV had his first communion and the funeral of Mozart’s mother.
Resting on the northern rim of Les Halles, I arrived once again, too late to hear a medieval folk ensemble. There was though, a huge crowd singing on the steps, but I decided to walk around the Montorgueil area for awhile in hopes of finding some music that I liked.
Finally, shadows of the evening slowly started to settle in, which by the time I reach cute Rue Tiquetonne had given way to pumped up volume of highly amplified music. In this narrow street, were dancers who looked like they were practicing for dancing with the stars, twirling about in all directions.
They had drawn a well lubricated crowd around them, and I luckily avoided being trampled or hit with a flying elbow. Grateful to have emerged unscathed, I decided to walk back towards Châtelet, rather than take the metro at Les Halles.
Somewhat seedy cobblestone Rue Saint Denis, makes for a colourful way back with their bright neon lit sex shops and side streets where the ladies of the night still compete for business. The gendarmes were walking their beats in the whole area, some trying to assist a young woman who just couldn’t keep upright, and had to be dragged off with legs trailing behind like a floppy Raggedy Ann doll.
By the time I reached adorable Place Opportune, my legs were decidedly tired and I reluctantly decided to call it a night and headed down to the subway tracks below. The first train was sardine packed to the gills, so I decided to wait for the next one, which unfortunately took on a load of the loudest adolescents ever.
Once home, drinking loads of cold water with lemon to squinch my thirst, I had to come to grips with making do with my deflated Fête de la Musique balloon . Retrospectively, I realised that despite my lofty ambitions, there was the other part of me that had felt downtrodden by events across the globe.
Sometimes, when our heart just isn’t into any celebrating, our well “laid out plans” are full of “holes” that never fly right, because consciously or unconsciously we do not feel in the mood to doing this or that, in the first place.
Last week was marred by the heinous Charleston tragedy and the unstoppable slaughter of thousand of dogs for a nauseating and hideous Chinese “festival”. You can’t put on enough lipstick and perfume, to cover up reality, nor totally distract yourself, even though it did not occur in your neck of the woods.
This past week, I was already lucky enough to be invited to see three pieces of live theater, two of which were comedies, which made for much needed distraction and laughter. In the end, the tapestry coloured skies of the setting sun , who had reached his highest peak in the Northern hemisphere, against the backdrop of beautiful Paris was without a doubt, more than enough to celebrate the Summer Solstice.
Yeah, I was a little let down by the fête de la Musique, too. I kept going from thinking “This is cool!” to “This is lame,” in my head. I guess doing it alone & not being drunk like everyone else might have played a role in it. And there were way too many DJs compared to live musicians. I thought that was kind of a shame – especially for amateur musicians who don’t always get an audience to practice in front of who had to compete noise-wise with expenisve DJ speakers. It’s changed so much since my first one, 20-some odd years ago. I don’t remember any DJs doing it back then – it was all live music with the exception of a few restaurants blaring their radios. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike DJs & I need them in my line of business but I just feel like the Fête de la Musique should be for live music. The DJs arleady have the techno parade & a lot of other stuff. I guess I feel like it should be a day to encourage blossoming musicians who don’t easily get a venue to play (especially since it’s cheaper to pay a DJ than a 5-person band for a gig).
Thank you Jennifer for your very insightful and informative comment! You, who is such a talented and gifted performer here , has even more astute observations over the years than any of us! I was not aware that DJ’s have invaded the terrain of live playing musicians, increasing in number over the years! True, I did hear loud speakers of music here and there, but I guess I concluded that they did not have the luck to have a live band playing near their domain.
I too, thought that the whole rational of Fête de la Musique was to give a stage to the multitudes of amateur musicians in need of public exposure and recognition!
If DJ’s are increasing as you say, then please let me know how I and others can voice our opinions to the organizers here in Paris, to return Fête de la Musique to only live street musicians. I have no intention to listen to, nor promote canned DJ selected
music as a part of Fête de la Musique! Hugs!
Cherry, your tales of your experiences in Paris are always delightful and interesting. It gives a Local’s insight and perspective to it all. Your living in p Paris just seems to have some rather unique, and almost year round festive opportunities. That has to add a little youthful vibrance to your life style.
In south Florida we have the Calle Ocho celebration and all sorts of other festivals and fairs frequently; but I have long ago mostly given up on trying to make our way through the tens of thousands, and occasionally 100,000+ throngs. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so difficult to find a place to park. Unfortunately south Florida has rather limited public transportation; even the metro rail is very limited to the areas that it serves. And lacking the historic ambiances, it is mostly just revelers having a good time with live bands. We do go to some of the festivities occasionally.
It sounds as if you live conveniently close to a subway station, which undoubtedly makes it ideal for getting around Paris the way that you do.
With the changes in the Cuban-American political relationships, they are in the process of setting up ferry boat rides between Key West and Havana. That will be something new and different; however, most of Cuba’s historic buildings are in very deteriorating conditions. We plan on making the trip to Havana once they get all of the ‘wrinkles” worked out”.
Your life in Paris sounds delightful and interesting; and I appreciate your sharing it with us.
Best Regars,
David
How wonderful it will be when the ferry ride to Havana becomes a reality! The photos that I have seen, makes me think that time stood still under the restrictive communist regime. I find that there is certain sensual beauty to those colourful old dilapitated buildings, but I like “old” structures. Key West to Havana trip should be a monumental success.
On public transport, Paris is blessed to have one of the best in the world! I use it for longer distances, preferring to walk otherwise, as walking is such a great way to stay fit. Taking just about any bus line here offers magical views of the city, but if in a hurry the metro will get you there faster. The trams circle around the periphery and the RER trains reach just about every suburb. You don’t need a car in Paris, and if you want one immediately, then there are the autolibs electric cars that you unplug, pay by cart and go, if you can drive stick shift. I only use mine for weekend trips out of the city, but even then the trains go everywhere too!
Now you are making me very envious. It sounds like living in Paris is almost ideal. One cannot live and get around in south Florida without a car. It must be terrific to be able to travel almost everywhere on public transportation like that (esp. to the 100,000+ events . . . Ha!) I don’t mind the driving; but finding a parking spot can be difficult . . . ha! The U.S. rebuilt the transportation systems in Europe after WWII via the Marshall plan; but we sorely ignored our own systems . . . . Americans were too enamored with their automobiles. It would really be terrific to have transportation systems in the U.S. similar to what we helped to build throughout Europe.
As for Havana, Cuba, it still has the “old look”; but they say that the old buildings are in terrible states of deterioration. Places like Hemingway’s old apartment are in terrible conditions. One just cannot go back and recreate the past times.; but it would be interesting to go to Havana. Some of my old clients, such as the Mas family and others (Alpha 66 and such groups who were supported by the CIA) , have had plans to take over the government of Cuba for many years. In fact Jorge Mas Canosa intended to install his son as the president of Cuba; they certainly are not eager to see these changes in the U.S. and Cuban relationships. It will be interesting to see how the new U.S. and Cuban relationship works out.
Living and working in south Florida for 40+ years has been interesting; but it certainly doesn’t have the historic ambiance or or travel conveniences of Europe. June and I have considered ex patriots for a few years after she retires; we just haven’t made that derision yet. I probably, hopefully, have another 10 to 15 yrs of quality of life (if I am that lucky); and we need to enjoy life to the fullest extent possible. You seem to be having a very good life in Paris. Exercise and a good diet is about the best that we can do . . . . the rest is the luck of DNA and other factors . . . Ha! At this point in life, the only thing that counts is enjoying life before we lose the quality of life due to some type of health problems. It is stubbly marvelous that you having a good life in Paris, that should be an inspiration for everyone. I enjoy hearing about your life in Paris.
Cherry, you know that the important aspect of life in the third third of life is really just to enjoy life and other people. We all are, or should be, past the point of being socially or professionally “competitive”. High School was a half century ago; and for most, our professional lives have ended somewhat. I think that the important aspect of life in the third third of life is simply just to enjoy life and other people simply for the enjoyment of life.
Small town intimacies, such as in Monroe, are nice; but often fraught with all sorts of weird feelings and sensitivities. In the big cities we are often lost in the anonymity of our lives amongst millions of people. The whole point is just to enjoy our lives and the people that we know and life in general. There really isn’t any more social or professional/business competitiveness that is meaningful, not really. It seems to be a time of life to enjoy people for themselves and our enjoyment. I find it to be interesting to hear about your life in Paris.
Cherry, After reading everyone’s comments, I have forgotten what I was going to say! I agree with what everyone said or found it interesting. What I love is seeing all the beautiful sites of Paris. What I am so astounded by is how you made the move and are now totally established in that life. What an amazing accomplishment! The buildings are so gorgeous, and it is fun to see what you see with your own eyes. Thank you, Cherry.
Thank you Pam for your appreciative comment! The beauty and energy of Paris is contagious and even addicting to some of us, who can’t bear the thought of leaving! There are sacrifices, but the benefits certainly outweigh them for those of us who choose to stay! Hugs