So, after climbing Mt. Montmartre (it’s not really a mountain), the Kongo’s rushed down to catch another Mrs. Kongo booked excursion, an after-hours tour of the Paris Opera House, the Palais Garnier. Kongo had visited the Garnier Opera House about 10 years ago but the tour that Mrs. Kongo booked that time turned out to be French language tour. After about 15 minutes of trying to fake it, the monkeys crept away in humiliation. She got it right this time.

The Palais Garnier is considered “probably the most famous opera house in the world, a symbol of Paris like Notre Dame Cathedral, the Louvre, or the Sacré Coeur Basilica.” It was designed by the architect Charles Garnier in the Baroque Revival style, with elements of the Second Empire and Beaux-Arts architecture. The amazing thing about this particular architect, is that this was the very first commission for Garnier. Absolutely amazing.

Our tour followed the path of a 19th century “subscriber” who would have been one of the wealthiest patrons in all of France. The opera was more than just a theater, it was a stage where you yourself were on display. Your attire, jewelry, and even the woman on your arm (who may or may not have been your wife) were all performing a dance that identified your status and position in the complicated social structure of Paris.

It starts out at a ground level where the elite arrived by private carriages and entered a large circular room surrounded by mirrors. This gave anyone who might have. become disheveled on the carriage ride a chance to adjust their clothes before making their entrance. The opera is dedicated to Apollo, the god of music. (among other things) so just before you emerge into the grand entranceway you pass by a statue of Pythia, the high priestess of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi and the mouthpiece of the god.

A highlight of the Garnier Opera House is the grand staircase. It will look familiar to you, particularly if you have seen Phantom of the Opera, the classic musical by Andrew Lloyd Weber. Kongo has seen this play many, many times in London, New York, San Diego, and San Francisco. He can’t get enough of it. The grand staircase in the musical is where the Masquerade scene is played out. In case you haven’t seen the play (or the movie) you can see a short clip of the scene here.

Everywhere you look there is marble. Marble and gold. And wonderful statues, balustrades, mosaics, and mirrors. Kongo imagines being a fly on the wall in 1870 and watching the glittering costumes, the beautiful ladies, the dashing gentlemen. Imagine the smells of all the perfume, the chatter and laughter. Since it’s Paris, you would spot covert glances, flirtatious eye batting, fluttering fans, the discrete hand squeeze, and the double cheek kisses. In the 19th century all the lighting was gas, which would have provided a wonderful, soft glow.

The elite would move to their dedicated boxes. in the main auditorium,. The subscribers would have their permanent box while others would rent a box for the season or maybe just the night. The boxes all had curtains that could be closed to allow for discrete shenanigans. The most expensive boxes, the ones reserved for the emperor or prime minister, are closest to the stage and Kongo went into one of those and it provides absolutely no view of the stage. But that was the point. They weren’t there to see the show, they were there to be the show!

The seats themselves are actually quite small. Comfortable, but small. Kongo cannot imagine how those dolled-up ladies managed to get their puffed out bell-shaped dresses into those seats.

During intermission, the guests could stroll along the grand salon which, in Kongo’s opinion, outshines the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles.

There are two amazing anterooms, one for the moon and one for the sun. Of course. They’re dripping in gold.

The most amazing thing about the sun room are the mirrors. They are situated in a way that provides infinite images of each other going back and forth. The lighting in the mirrors changes its hue like that of a sunrise. Apollo would be proud.

The “curtain” is not really a curtain at all. It’s a painting on a panel. It’s pulled straight up to open the show.

One of the most beautiful aspects of the auditorium is the ceiling. It’s painted by Marc Chagall and was a gift to the people of France.

In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s play, the performance starts with the giant chandelier crashing down into the audience – mischief by the phantom. Of course, the chandelier has never fallen and nobody sitting under it has ever been killed. But what a great story! If you look closely at the painting you can see where Chagall has painted himself into the scene.

The ceilings are just as amazing as the rest of the building. They are all covered in mosaics and frescos. You will get a stiff neck from staring at them.

The monkey gives Mrs. Kongo credit for another great tour! They really are better in English, if that’s your native language. They have a gift shop too, of course. You can find anything you might like about the opera there from Degas ballerenas to videos of the great performances.

Travel safe. Have fun!