A Paris edition of Strook featuring something I drew, listened to, and (didn't) read.

Drawing

For my 40th birthday, I was treated to a trip to Paris. Last year, I wrote enthusiastically about Comte de Buffon, and my father saw that as a good reason for us to travel in Buffon’s footsteps together. In other words, start a newsletter too and give your loved ones some great ideas.

Our main goal was the Museum National d’Histoire Naturelle1 and the Jardin des Plantes, which Buffon managed for nearly 50 years on behalf of the French king. Upon entering, we immediately see the Maison de Buffon, the building where he lived and worked. Just around the corner is the Grande Galerie de l’Évolution, the massive building that replaced his Cabinet d’Histoire naturelle in 1889.

The museum is filled with remarkable specimens, particularly in the gallery of (nearly) extinct animals, including the Tasmanian tiger (see Strook #19), the quagga, and—of course—the dodo. We couldn’t stop marveling at them.

Outside, we came across Buffon. Surrounded by the garden and massive greenhouses, he looked out over the museum. I sketched him in my notebook.

I hadn’t expected to ever come back to Paris2, and it was definitely challenging, but that made it all the more special to still be able to visit all these historic sites.

Reading

Books were another important goal of the trip, particularly natural history books with illustrations. We strolled past bookstores, antiquarian bookshops, and stalls along the Seine.

Such as the “best antiquarian bookstore for natural history books in Paris”3. The door was locked. I muttered that it might not be quite the right place, but the door was already opening. The shelves were filled with James Cook’s travelogues, illustrations by Sydney Parkinson, and encyclopedias such as Buffon’s complete Histoire Naturelle. All in perfect condition, hand-colored, and often first editions. She asked what my budget was. I didn’t dare answer. She handed me a book by Buffon. I flipped through it and hesitantly asked how much it would cost. “This one? €12,000.”

I didn’t dare leaf through it any further.

“We do have cheaper books, too,” she said, handing me a small booklet of botanical drawings priced at €750. At a table, a customer was flipping through an impressive natural history book. I saw the price: €35,000, just as we fled outside.

We also found affordable bookstores, but when I asked about books with natural history illustrations, the owner smiled and shook his head. “Unfortunately, those have all been snapped up already.” The beautiful 19th-century covered passages were, therefore, filled with illustrations. An endless candy store for illustrators who like to imagine themselves back in the 19th century. I bought a few prints, including this green woodpecker.

My budget? €50.

Next Strook, a normal book in my price range.

Listen

This is Lorelei’s previous album was quite eclectic, featuring electronic sounds and vocal distortions. Through his covers of Waxahatchee, MJ Lenderman, and Snail Mail, he realized he was a good songwriter. As a result, The Singer in My Band has become much more of a “back to basics” album. Be sure to read this great piece by Gijsbert Kramer about the indie scene he’s right in the middle of.

See you next week!