Anarchy, Consumerism, and Flash Photography in the Louvre

Ah, the Louvre.

Let me preface this post by noting that I don’t take photographs of paintings. It seems pointless and slightly disrespectful to me. We go to museums to see and feel art – if you want to experience a painting, then there is no reason not to go to it rather than staring at someone’s soulless picture of it. On top of that, when you use a flash to take a picture of a painting, you are damaging it.

That being said, here is one thing I have found odd here: though the signs with long lists of prohibitions (standard to all French famous spots) are clear about flash photography being forbidden, there are shockingly few guards around to enforce this rule…anywhere.

I was horrified, then, when I visited the Louvre on the first Sunday of September when admission was free. The Mona Lisa looked like a red carpet celebrity, half-grinning to a crowd of maybe fifty flash bulbs inside a loud and busy Louvre. No wonder she’s falling apart! While that case was certainly the worst, there were countless other paintings that received similar treatment. And I didn’t see one guard to stop it. Maybe they had been overwhelmed. The place was like a mall at Christmas, except people were scrambling and fighting over photo-opps instead of Nintendos.

Speaking of malls, there is one inside the Louvre. Sort of. Beneath the front grounds of the palace is a vast, vaulted cave full of stores, metro entrances, and escalators. And lines. Lines of people waiting to get inside. If you come to France, be prepared to stand in line, no matter what you do. The good news is that there’s a food court. And the food court has beer.

There is a glass pyramid similar to the one out front which extends symmetrically from the ceiling into the center of this chaos, creating a mirror reflection of the structure above. It is the hub of this odd mirror world of tourists flitting and shopping to-and-fro beneath the lawn where kings once strode and battles were fought. This odd injection of what I think is degrading consumerism in the midst of sacred national monuments is completely and utterly common in France. It’s one of those paradoxes that I know I will be writing a lot about.

PS. There’s a Starbucks right by one of the entrances, if you are ever jonesing while you are in Paris.

PPS Don’t tell me if you decide to go, as I may hurt you. It’s a Starbucks. Inside the freaking Louvre! What a world…