To some extent, the fact that faced with the Revolution, and its creative/destructive architectural aesthetic and utter reinvention of cultural and symbolic values, the buildings of Versailles and the Louvre remained standing is highly significant in itself. These spaces quite simply, survived, and in so doing, succeeded in becoming unrivalled symbols of the Ancien Regime on the Parisian landscape today, showing their lasting impact (Storrie, 2007). And yet, Versailles and the Louvre have not sat on this legacy and continued on as mere relics of the ancien régime, but have, committed to reinventing themselves as spaces of art that play an active part in the circulation of modern cultural values; ensuring their lasting significance here and now.
The juxtaposition of the pyramid against the classicism of the Louvre itself is striking. Becoming fixated with the pyramid you begin to think of all possible questions for its construction, purpose and meaning. Commissioned by President Mitterand in 1984 and designed by architect I.M Pei who has also designed the Miho museum in Japan, the piece’s political power is palpable, if one considers how it was allowed to be built in the first place. Rulers of France have historically had the capability to stamp their own mark on the urban landscape and none is more adventurous than Mitterand’s example. The pyramid’s futuristic imposition upon the front of the much-revered old museum was obviously surrounded by controversy, and yet personally I feel that its provocativeness updates the classic space, bringing it into the modern age, its very obtrusive presence questioning our received notions of what ‘art’ actually is. Moreover, created in part to control the increasingly excessive number of tourists visiting the Louvre, the economic and social impacts of the pyramid are also significant. But arguably, today the pyramid has become a tourist attraction in itself, bringing in intrigued observers from all over the world. The same could be said of the Louvre’s most iconic painting, the Mona Lisa, which, alone, is largely responsible for the museum’s annual turnover of 4 mill ion visitors. The long-exposure photograph below I took highlights the frantic nature of trying to view Leonardo da Vinci’s painting. Ultimately, it would certainly be fair to say that today the Louvre has exceeded its monarchical origins, no longer a uniquely French pilgrimage to royalism but a multinational site of culture, indeed the most visited in the world. Simons (1993) points to the Louvre’s extraordinary evolution, which has laid a foundation for continued change and revival in years to come:
“The amazing journey from medieval fortress to grand royal palace and finally to one of the worlds superstructures of culture: there is no stopping the Louvre”
With work in the 1990’s on the east and west wings, ceiling renovation, 39 new rooms being added to its exhibition space and restoration of more than 100 paintings and 300 frames, the Louvre continues to assert itself as a showcase museum for the finest of historical and rare art across the globe (Simons, 1999). The newest rooms also have modern fittings, following from Pei’s pyramid style to modernise the museum. However the classicism and beauty of the Louvre is still rooted in reminders of royalism, such as the portrait of Louis XIV by Hyacinthe Rigaud in prime position, directly in one’s eyeline at the entrance of the new wings.
More modern projects continue however, to be encouraged. More recently in July of 2010, the Louvre increased its liasions with the public boasted involvement with the public for possession of wanted art by offering out the choice of donating to obtain ‘The Three Graces’ by Lucas Cranach. This 16th century German painting can now be bought as thousands of people donated an extra million euro’s (Chenebenoit, 2010). The Louvre museums director, Henri Loyrette, stated how it was a “magnificent Christmas present”. The museum has also began to encourage guest appearances by contemporary artists wanting to showcase their own work. For 2010 Patrice Chéreau was the Louvre’s guest of honour, bringing in his exhibition “Faces and Bodies”. Staging some 40 paintings compromising of visual art, theatre, dance and readings, such appearances illustrate how the Louvre is branching out and using new methods of museum activity.
The phenomenon of ‘guest appearances’ by contemporary artists is experienced most dramatically in the grand palace of Versailles. Versailles’ significance today lies arguably, in being just as much of a tourist attraction as the Louvre, but with an even stronger sense of France’s monarchical past. With no other urban distractions, the magnificent presence of Versailles when you descend from the station, a looming building on the horizon beaming with gold décor, is overwhelming. Compared with the Louvre’s ambiguity, there is no doubt that this was a royal palace, raising the question of whether Versailles can ever move past its imposing monarchical exterior to reinvent itself for the modern age.
Certainly, the installation at Versailles of Takashi Murakami’s Japanese art collection, which I was lucky enough to witness when I visited Paris in early November, is an attempt at modernisation. The works of art make an impact against the classical décor to say the least: colourful, super-modern cartoons, they turned many heads when touring round the palace, and were so at odds with Versailles at large that I found myself questioning their purpose.
Unsurprisingly thus the somewhat jarring effect of the art works have since provoked heated responses from visitors, from France and all over the world, and traditionalists eager to preserve Versailles as a shrine to classicism. Indeed, an article in the Guardian from September 2010 detailed how 11,000 people in total have signed petitions to remove the exhibition, with royal activists even protesting outside of the palace gates. One particularly controversial piece is an enticing woman lending her arm out in need. In the wake of all this controversy, Murakami had this to say;
“When someone scores a goal, someone is going to be unhappy”. (Murakami, 2010: cited in Davies, 2010)
Ultimately, it seems that the transition from monarchical artefact to modern space of art at Versailles has been far from smooth. But is it, as Murakami suggests, really about scoring goals against the art establishment? Need Versailles, or the Louvre, take such radical steps to ensure their significance in the modern age? Both will arguably always be significant in preserving amazing monuments and moments of history. But time does not stand still, and both will have to find a middle ground between respecting their origins in monarchy whilst remaining relevant for generations of visitors to come. The crucial difference of the two spaces must, however, be considered. Versailles’ location on the periphery of the city means it does not have to keep up with the modernising of a busy city to the degree the Louvre does. Indeed, in Versailles case, the graphic boldness of Murakami’s exhibition might even override the palace’s legacy. Tourists at the museum I interviewed during my visit seemed to agree, with an American man eager to stress that ‘old art was new once’ making the valid point that cutting edge modernism does not necessarily translate into artistic value, and also that before we can ‘move on’ we must adequately engage with our past cultural heritage.
Essentially, this picture I took whilst in Paris, of a would-be robber of the Louvre clutching a fake portrait of the Mona Lisa to entertain the crowds, encapsulates what I have tried to argue in this blog entry. That both the Louvre and Versailles are running away from their pasts, whilst simulataneously holding on to them. That the robber is making off with Da Vinci’s seminal work is also fitting. Because in terms of the future significance of both spaces, despite their monarchical legacy, art is increasingly taking centre stage, and threatens in years to come, to steal the show.