The Orangery Museum: From Oranges to Lilies

The Orangerie is a Parisian museum located on the banks of the Seine; a historic site that has undergone a 'professional retraining'; home to Impressionist and Post-Impressionist masterpieces. If you have an image of Musee d'Orsay, you can certainly understand the tragedy of the Orangerie. The latter was unlucky: in the collective consciousness, the Orsay will always be considered the preferred site of visit for lovers of artistic movements of the 19th and 20th centuries. The Orangerie is sometimes unfairly presented as a mere 'teenage pastime' for an art lover, after he has completed his usual bread - a visit to the Orsay.

But the modest museum is much more than that. The fascinating history of the building, the area in which it is located, the diverse collections housed within its walls and, above all, the monumental work that gave it its greatest fame, make the Orangerie an intriguing destination for lovers of the Impressionist movement and the art of recent centuries. If you find interest in the works of Claude Monet, then there will be no escape from the abhorrent cliché that accompanies old tourist traps: a must-visit.

The Orangery Museum: Visitor Information

Before we begin to tell the fascinating story of the Orangerie Museum and its collection, it is appropriate to provide anyone looking for “practical information” about the museum with what they need.

The address of the museum

The museum is located on a vibrant tourist avenue in the city. ParisThe building is located in the western corner of the Tuileries Gardens, close to thePlace de la ConcordeThe exact address – for those who wish to use Google Maps: Jardin des Tuileries, 75001, Paris.

Tickets to the Orangery

It is recommended to book tickets in advance to avoid the queue at the box office. If you want to visit several museums, you can also find several combined tickets here:

• Orangery entrance ticket
  
• Combined ticket to the nearby Jeu de Peaum Museum and the Orangery
  
• Combined ticket to the Orsay Museum and the Orangerie
  
• Combined ticket to the Picasso Museum and the Orangerie
  
• Combined ticket to the Marmottan Museum, Monet and the Orangerie
  
• Combined ticket for the Pompidou Center and the Orangerie

visiting hours

The Orangery is open every day of the week, except Tuesday, from 09:00 a.m. to 18:00 p.m. Although it is not as large as the others, it is better to devote a few hours to the tour, to be impressed by the collection owned by the museum or to immerse yourself in an aesthetic viewing experience, next to Monet's lilies. The last entry time, if you insist on demonstrating Zionist patriotism and arriving before closing, is 17:15 p.m. From time to time, concerts are held in the various exhibition rooms, with limited attendance.

And now that we're done with all the technical issues, let's dive into the depths of history and discover how the Orangerie Museum was created and how its works came to be.

Greenhouse Effect

Visitors to D'Orsay are very interested in the history of the site. The story of the train station that failed to fulfill its purpose and became a renowned art museum (the highest number of visitors, after The Louvre Museum), was enshrined as a myth in French folklore and became an ironclad asset in the books of tour guides.

It turns out that fate has decreed that French art museums will not be housed in a building originally intended for cultural purposes. The Louvre was originally a fortified royal palace; the Orsay building was once a train station; and the Orangerie, you will discover, was built due to a high-ranking imperial demand: a shelter for the national oranges. A greenhouse – if you insist on sticking to the dictionary terms.

Little Napoleon

Napoleon III was a scion of the Bonaparte family. When you bear the name 'Napoleon Bonaparte', your fate is sealed: no matter how magnificent the legacy you leave behind – in the fields of culture, urban planning or economics, you will always remain 'Little Napoleon'. The sarcastic nickname coined by Victor Hugo – in an influential political pamphlet he published, under the name 'Napoléon le Petit.' Nevertheless, Napoleon III left his mark on the annals of the French nation.

In fact, if you ask Napoleon III, his only ambition was to inaugurate a large enough hall – where the cedar trees would be located, whichIn the Tuileries Gardens , a shelter from the winter chill. Until the construction of the building, the trees were housed in the Grand Gallery of the Louvre Museum, which was expected to change after the allocation of the designated space. However, if you thought of a routine greenhouse, a kind of drab and unremarkable structure – made of glass panels or plastic sheets, you probably haven’t yet been exposed to the spirit of the French nation. For them, practicality is an excuse for elegant grandiosity and nothing more.

Fruits and Glory – Designing the Museum's Building

architecture

The task of completing the building was entrusted to the architect Firmin Bourgeois. The latter took part in the architectural initiation of several Parisian buildings and was known for his meticulousness in maintaining a polished finish, regardless of the nature of the project.

Initially, the design reflected the original purpose of the site. Glass was used on its southern side, a measure intended to allow rays of light to penetrate for the well-being of the plants. The opposite side of the hall, on the other hand, was extremely opaque – almost to the point of being windowless, to protect the tender seedlings from the cold north wind.

The entrance gates

An elegant and useful warehouse for storing wood? It is clear to everyone that this is not enough. And what is a magnificent building without Italian finishing? The great Louis Visconti was called to the flag. A French architect and designer (born in the land of the boot), the son of a Roman art historian and the architect who accompanied the visual refreshment of the Louvre building.

Work on behalf of 'His Majesty' was no stranger to him; alongside designing Parisian residences, Visconti took part in designing public buildings, squares (including the Saint-Sulpice) and important national sites. His best-known work? The tomb of Napoleon (the Great, not le Petit). His gracious contribution to the magnificent appearance of the Orangerie is reflected in the decoration of the main entrances of the building, on its eastern and western sides.

Roof facade

Charles Gallois-Poignant was the last of the artists to design the classical building, which drew inspiration from the principles of impressive Greek architecture. His role was to design the triangular roof façade, which covers the decorative columns. The roof decorations depict cornucopias (Latin: Cornu Copiae), a familiar Greek artistic motif that was widely used in ancient Rome.

The horns symbolize wealth and agricultural abundance. They originate in ancient mythology, where they frequently accompanied the image of the gods of fertility and success. In the Israeli context: the coin worth two new shekels is decorated with two horns of abundance, a reference to ancient coins of the Kingdom of Judah. ​​A cluster of plants completes the artistic appearance, silent testimony to the museum's original purpose.

And if it wasn't obvious by now, the name of the Orangery Museum is a historical relic that hints at its former function: a storage house for citrus fruits, especially oranges... 

Artistic turning point

Until 1922, the building was owned by the state, which used it in a variety of creative ways: as a storage facility for seedlings, a warehouse for equipment, a place to sleep for soldiers, a venue for musical concerts, an occasional shelter for traveling galleries, and finally – most infamously: an arena for dog competitions sponsored by the city.

After the transfer of ownership was completed, the purpose of the Orangery changed once again. It was now decided that the building would be a space for fruitful artistic discourse. A kind of stronghold for painters and artists – who would be able to exhibit their works, discuss fateful aesthetic questions, and operate under the auspices of the state, which in the past (and in many ways today) saw itself as the patron of French art.

Claude Monet

I follow nature, but I cannot grasp it; perhaps I owe to flowers the fact that I am a painter ~Claude Monet.

At the time the museum was transferred to its new owners, Oscar Claude Monet was working on the monumental series of works, considered by many to be the magnum opus of his work – ‘Water Lilies’ (1926-1840). In a burst of patriotic spirit, the painter decided to transfer the monumental canvases to the state, a vision that was realized during the days he was active.

Since the lily paintings are considered the cornerstone and the object of admiration of visitors to the Orangery, a few words of explanation cannot be omitted. Those of you who have long been exposed to the story of the historical series of paintings can continue to the next paragraph.

Portrait of the Artist as a Man of the Gospel

Claude Monet is considered by many to be the painter most identified with the Impressionist movement in art. As one of its founders and leaders, the great phenomenon represented many of the movement's principles in his works. The use of soft, bright colors, a central emphasis on the way light rays are refracted – and the use of artistic and visual means that enhance the visual experience.

As the author of the movement’s unofficial manifesto, Monet believed that “landscape is nothing but an impression, and an initial impression.” The modern artist, according to the Impressionists, was not required to trace in his works historical figures and grandiose events, but rather the marvelous poetics embodied in still life, and in the connection reflected therein between the eternal and the fleeting effects.

“There is an abundance of poetic and wonderful themes in Parisian life,” wrote Charles Pierre Baudelaire, a renowned poet and art critic, following his visit to the Salon of 1846. “The wonderful surrounds us and saturates us like the air, but we do not see it.” As the flagship of the movement, Monet found his sources of inspiration in his immediate surroundings. A seascape seen from his room window, the figure of a woman holding an umbrella, everything served as inspiration for Monet. Even a home flower garden.

The water lilies

About luck and fate

Giverny is a commune in the French region of Normandy Illit. The commune is known for the house of Claude Monet, who lived there, and in particular for the magnificent gardens that were scattered in the courtyard of the house. Monet believed that it was the duty of a man of good spirit to surround himself with uplifting objects of inspiration. He devoted many years of his life to cultivating the gardens that surrounded his house, in which he planted thousands of mind-expanding ornamental flowers. The tiny lakes, the Japanese bridge, the weeping willow tree and the water lilies – are central themes in the grandeur of his works.

History could have been different if Monet had remained in a bourgeois Parisian house, in the city where he laid – alongside his colleagues – the cornerstone of the artistic movement; history could have been different if the petition of his neighbors, who were wary of the exotic plants that the eccentric painter brought with him, had been accepted; but luck and fate combined to create aesthetic history. “I am good at nothing but painting and gardening,” Monet concluded in a burst of modesty. Fortunately, his ‘limited skills’ were enough to perpetuate his place in the hall of fame of influential artists of recent times.

To capture the moment

Starting in 1889, Monet showed a growing tendency to present a series of paintings that survey a single object from different perspectives. Behind the idea stood a clear theory and methodology. The members of the movement advocated the presence of particularity in art and the emphasis on the dynamism of the objects – according to fluctuations in the weather, light and the artist’s soul. The series: ‘Haystacks’ (in French: Les Meules) and ‘Water Lilies’ (in French: Les Nymphéas, the nymphaea – the scientific name for the ‘water lily’ plant) – are prominent examples of the nature of his work during these years.

Monet devoted the last thirty years of his life to completing the series of paintings called 'Water Lilies'. It would not be an exaggeration to claim that the work is a representative mirror of the most important aspects of the Impressionist spirit. The water motifs, the refracted rays of light, the multiple perspectives of a single object, the fragile dynamism of the continuous subject, the short brushstrokes, all of which seem to combine into a harmony reflecting the beauty of nature. The water lilies were for Monet what the sunflowers were for Van Gogh. A representative symbol of the 'principles of faith' to which he adhered.

From theory to practice

Monet's prolific work produced 250 oil paintings. From time to time, he would lock himself away in his study, like a madman, polishing the product to perfection, expressing a renewed perspective and immortalizing with his brush another aspect of a fleeting moment. In his later years, the painter suffered from cataracts. The clouding of the lens of his eye clouded his ability to see reality clearly and led to the appearance of blurry spots in his vision.

Such an illness could have ended a naturalist's career; for an Impressionist, Monet proved, a curse could become a blessing – at least in the field of art. The oval and pink spots of color in his last works are a hint of his illness. The painter did not deny his visual impairment or try to cover it up by distracting from the picture of reality, as it was perceived by him. On the contrary: he warmly embraced the change and emphasized the subjective and personal layer, as an inviolable law for the Impressionist painter.

Rough brushstrokes, intense and exciting colors, a mysterious, almost abstract celebration of 'impressionistic' individuality. The reflection of reality may succeed or fail; when the painter presents his moods, even his relative failures shed light on his aesthetic and spiritual characteristics.

'Peace Monument'

In November 1918, the day after the signing of the armistice agreement, Mona promised to dedicate to the government France Some of his works. Despite a formal victory and the annexation of German territories, the spirit of the French nation was low and sorrowful. 1,300,000 people lost their lives in the 'Great War', third in the number of casualties among all the countries that took part in the campaign. France (as well as the British Empire) licked its wounds and sank into gloom and confusion - which lowered its prestige in the international arena.

'A monument to peace,' the painter called the eight 'Nymphae' paintings he donated to his beloved, bowed-down country. The absence of the horizon and the shore symbolize futility and hopelessness; the rough strokes of paint and the dynamic, unstable texture suggest the bleak recognition of a world full of upheavals; what was will not be again.

But, on the other hand, hope also manages to find expression in the striking work. The bright blue colors give the horizon, which is absent from the picture, the ability to be reflected – in a deliberate artistic reversal – within the turbulent waters themselves; the wide canvases were designed to provide a horizontal, almost circular perspective, as if suggesting that the world will return to its normal state after ‘this terrible war’, as Monet called it. ‘The war that will end all wars’, as hope has awakened in hearts torn by grief.

The nymphs find a home

In 1922 – the year Monet completed the paintings dedicated to the state, the Orangerie – in yet another of its many incarnations – was owned by the Sub-Department of Fine Arts. Between hosting occasional exhibitions and a center for cultural discourse, it was decided to turn the historic building into an annex of the ‘Paris Museum of Modern Art’. Monet’s works, which did not fit the Orangerie’s purpose, were considered by the French government – ​​which recognized their value – to be housed inRodin Museum The esteemed Georges Clemenceau, president of the Council of Fine Arts (and French Prime Minister, in his other hat), had other plans.

A man of unparalleled intellect, witty and with a tongue as long as an arrow, with a heartwarming affinity for art and a courageous national spirit, it was difficult to dissuade 'The Tiger' (as he was called by his people) from his plans. The Orangery underwent another metamorphosis, in favor of the works of Monet – the object of Clemenceau's admiration and friend. The painter's work was awarded the most impressive honor that can be bestowed on a man of spirit: a magnificent hall dedicated to the display of his works. Or, to be more precise, a single work with eight different shades.

It all depends on the point of view.

Camille Lefèvre was the architect entrusted with preparing the place for its current function. A professor at the National School of Decorative Arts, he was known for his active political involvement and affinity for social issues. In the course of his activities, he collaborated with artists and intellectuals, which allowed him to easily establish relationships of trust and gain Monet's affection. Together, the two devoted their time and energy to making the Orangery the best structure for displaying the works.

As someone who was constantly engaged, more than many who preceded him, in studying the importance of light and understanding its influence on the viewer's interpretive impression of the work, Monet believed that the 'Water Lilies' could not be properly understood without an adequate perspective for viewing. He devoted many hours – together with Lefebvre – to the architectural task. As the days passed, the two were able to congratulate themselves on the finished work. Two oval rooms, an allusion to infinity and cyclicality; eight panels spanning 91 meters; Monet, the perfectionist, reached a satisfactory result.

A window for art

Compromise is a necessity in the preparation of an existing structure. Monet, on the other hand, showed no flexibility in the question of the skylight in the center of the room. The paintings were intended to suggest continuity and eternity, but also the fleeting transformations that take place within the fabric of stability. And what better way to illustrate the multitude of movements in the artist's soul and in a reality full of upheavals, if not the presence of the dynamism in nature, by properly using the cycles of light rays? The refraction of the rays in the bright room is the embodiment of the impressionistic vision. The room is located between east and west, exactly in the path of the sun - fromArc de Triomphe To the Louvre Museum. Claude Monet knew how to take advantage of this.

We parted like this

Work on the 'Nymphs' was completed as early as 1922, but it was not until 1927 that the museum was inaugurated for public viewing. There were various reasons for this delay: architectural needs, administrative necessity, a desire to bring the building to perfection, many factors served as an excuse for Claude Monet, who found it difficult to say goodbye to one of the pinnacles of his life. Finally, the museum was opened to the public. In a solemn and somber ceremony, the red ribbon was cut. The 'Monument to Peace' became a monument to the artist himself. The man who defined an era and laid the foundation for many aesthetic movements, was not able to participate in the event, which was held after his death.

Initially, the site bore the name of the hero who redesigned its function – 'Claude Monet Museum' (in French: Musée Claude Monet). Later, after being annexed to the Luxembourg Museum (in French: Musée du Luxembourg; initially used as a museum of contemporary art; now used mainly for temporary exhibitions), its name was changed to 'Musée nationale Orangerie de l'Tuileries'.

The reason for the name change was twofold: on the one hand, despite the importance of the mythological painting, reducing Monet to 'Water Lilies' was an insult to his magnificent legacy. On the other hand, the museum expanded its collection and once again the name did not shock its transformation into an artistic home for additional Impressionist and Post-Impressionist works. The historical context, on the other hand, the ironic reminder of its initial role, was more important and relevant than ever.

Changing exhibitions at the Orangery Museum

In 1930, the Orangerie joined the Louvre Museum. Temporary exhibitions were held in the western part of the building, which included works from the Louvre and other national museums. The items in the temporary collection placed in the Orangerie were replaced every year. Between 1933 and 1930, an Impressionist exhibition was hosted at the museum, attracting fans and admirers of the movement.

Another popular temporary exhibition was called ‘Painters of Reality’ (French: Peintres de la realité). This was held in 1934 – and was dedicated to the meticulous realism of 17th-century art. Another exhibition, which included masterpieces by the Flemish painter Peter Paul Rubens – attracted a million spectators. The year 1942, to national disgrace, was marked by the exhibition gallery of Arno Brecker, the architect and sculptor who received the official support of the Third Reich, as someone whose art was antithetical to modern aesthetics, which the leaders of the fascist regime considered ‘degenerate’.

The cultural 'weight answer' came in 1946. After World War II, the French government harnessed its efforts to restore masterpieces of history, shadowed odes from the jaws of bloody war. In a joint effort by the Allies, important items were restored and temporarily placed in the Orangerie.

Jean Walter and Paul Guillaume

The temporary exhibitions were met with applause. Alongside the Galerie Nationale de la Jeu de Pomme, in collaboration with the Louvre Museum's Department of Paintings, the Orangerie hosted diverse galleries – representing the spectrum of modern movements and providing a stage for the various patterns of art's depictions of the human spirit. The echoes of the exhibitions led to the adoption of the model. Other national institutions began to hold short-term cultural events. Social phenomena in the field of art – which had been marginalized in normal times, found a voice and made their way into the mainstream and the establishment.

And yet the place was considered somewhat inferior to older, traditional cultural strongholds. No passing exhibitions, however important, could give the museum the institutional seal of approval – the seal that the Orangerie needed so much on its way to the collective consciousness. The sound of history came from an unexpected place: Dominique Voltaire, widow of the art collectors Paul Guillaume and Jean Voltaire, was responsible for the renaissance of the mythological structure.

Paul Guillaume

Guillaume was one of the first prophets to receive the revelation of modernity ~André Breton, surrealist writer and poet.

In the bustling Parisian cultural scene of the 20th century, Paul Guillaume was a major player. Unlike other art collectors, members of the aristocratic and bourgeois elites, Paul made his way to the top on his own. First in a small garage inMontmartre Hill (in French: Montmartre) and then in a modest Parisian gallery, Paul's path to the affluent Parisian consciousness was intertwined with hard work.

But the difference did not end there. Other dealers, even connoisseurs who knew how to appreciate groundbreaking innovation, were afraid to challenge prevailing conventions and the accepted perception of art. It was incredibly easy to market your works, they thought, without trying to shatter age-old institutional idols, anchored in long-standing aesthetic traditions. Paul Guillaume, on the other hand, was imbued with a sense of aesthetic, almost messianic, mission.

The new navigator

A loyalist from his early days, he frequently strove to promote social aspects of Parisian culture. Against the helplessness of the authorities and their disregard for the cultural and social characteristics of the modern era, Paul announced his ambition to establish a museum of modern art. In view of the cracks that were beginning to appear in the Eurocentric perception, the colorful merchant encouraged exhibitions of African art, something that was considered innovative in the old days. Financial support for struggling painters made him, in the eyes of many of his acquaintances, a patron of the art of their time. They tried to repay him and immortalized his memory in their paintings. 

At the age of 23 – as a young but financially well-established art dealer – Paul Guillaume was painted by Amedeo Modigliani, a great painter at the forefront of 20th-century modernism. The inscription ‘Novo Pilota’, ‘the new navigator’, is a testament to the great esteem the artists held in their patron.

Amedeo Modigliani was one of the two most famous painters to be patronized by the dealer, who became an avid dealer and collector of their paintings. The other was Chaim Soutine, the renowned Expressionist born in White Russia. The common denominator that unites the two? The Jewish origin they shared (you know. A Jewish article will never be certified kosher without the provincial context). If you want to read more about them, I highly recommend Orna Lieberman’s article Amedeo Modigliani and Chaim Soutine: The Last Bohemians of Montparnasse.

A dream and a tragic death

Henri Matisse, Constantin Brancusi, Pablo Picasso and Giorgio de Chirico were other painters and sculptors of the period who aroused the aesthetic fervor of the French art lover – who purchased and traded their works. Impressionism, Post-Impressionism, Expressionism, Modernism, Cubism, Fauvism, Surrealism and Metaphysical art – Guillaume stood at the forefront of the culture of his time and was not afraid to actively encourage controversial trends.

His collection of works developed in parallel with his great dream: a museum of modern art, which would display the best paintings and sculptures he had acquired and accumulated over the years. The dream could have become a reality, had not fate raised its wicked hand and cut it off prematurely. In 1934, the passionate collector died of peritonitis, at the age of only 42.

Dominica, a secret woman

The piece of gossip that accompanies the story could feed an average detective fiction writer. His wife Domenica's questionable past, her many affairs, and the story of the loss of two wills, led to suspicions that the tragic death was a premeditated murder.

For the first 24 hours after he suffered from the violent abdominal pains that accompany the terrible infection, Domenika did not bother to call for help. Her home care skills were enough, she later claimed, to bring relief to his illness. Even when she decided to seek medical attention, she did not call the emergency services and preferred to drive him herself, on the road that became his last journey.

A complaint filed against the widow Walter did not result in an indictment. The elders of Paris and other "good tongues" say that a "plea deal" secretly negotiated between Walter and the state authorities included the handing over of the magnificent art collection he had inherited in exchange for the indictment against her being dropped. But from the obscure path, let us stick to the known facts: Dominique's marriage to Jean Walter.

Jean Walter

Jean Voltaire was a French architect – who designed public housing buildings, including hospitals and apartment buildings. This brief biography would not have provided a glimpse into his illustrious life, were it not for the turning point in the plot. In 1925, after military service in World War I – as an attaché to Georges Clemenceau (about whom you have already read), Voltaire took part in a mining venture – near the Moroccan city of Oujda. The discovery of ores rich in lead and zinc multiplied Jean's assets tenfold. At this point, as expected, our friend Dominique entered the story.

The affair between the two was rather bizarre. Part of it took place under the watchful eye of Paul Guillaume – who preferred to ignore the 'subtle' signs, including the three living together. After Guillaume's tragic death, the two were married in a ceremony that attracted much attention, establishing the dubious relationship.

Between innovation and tradition

During her marriage to Walter, the nature of the art collection underwent many changes. Sentimentalism for the possessions of her previous owners was not a central characteristic of Dominique's personality, who sold and purchased various items as she saw fit. African sculptures and paintings, the distribution of which was Paul's passion, were abandoned in favor of a more conservative collection. Modern sculptures with bold motifs and avant-garde paintings that did not win the couple's affection were stored alongside the African collection. Eclecticism was replaced by uniformity. The turbulent spirit was trapped in the thickets of conformity.

In place of the items that were sold, the two purchased other works of art, now with a clear goal: creating coherence and harmonious coordination between the parts of the collection and converting the diverse chaos into a defined collection, which would be displayed in a dedicated museum.

And since another entry in the philanthropist's list of dubious husbands cannot be ignored, Jean Walter's end was also tragic: a car accident in 1957, while he was accompanying his wife and her lover (don't ask) to a modest country bistro, brought his life to an end. You won't be surprised to hear that her self-confidence stood in her way this time too, when she preferred not to call for medical help, and to move on her own on the way to provide treatment to the injured.

The collection is transferred to the state.

And from mysterious realms of suspicion and the corners of the lips to the Orangerie Museum. When France offered to extend its patronage over the collection, the widow accepted the offer. The work of preparing the museum for the considerable addition lasted five whole years (1965-1960).

The temporary exhibition space was dropped; two levels were added to the building; a staircase with a decorative railing led to the new gallery rooms; and in 1966, at a ceremony that included the French encyclopedist André Malraux (adventurer, writer, amateur sociologist, and Minister of Culture in de Gaulle's government), the magnificent gallery was publicly unveiled. Despite this, Dominique officially owned the works until her death in 1977.

About a year after his death, another round of renovations was carried out. The museum underwent various adjustments – with the aim of permanently housing the works of Paul and Jean, after whom the collection was named. The exhibits were now presented to the visitor based on sorting parameters and out of a desire to optimize the viewer's experience. As part of the revolution, the director of the Orangerie separated from the Louvre Museum and the Galerie Nationale J. de Pomme. The Galerie Nationale's collection, incidentally, was given to the future Musée d'Orsay.

Collection details

'One of the most beautiful collections of European paintings,' is how the collection is described on the museum's website. Although this is a slight exaggeration, the importance and significance of the exhibits cannot be ignored. The 148 works - collected between the 30s and the 60s - strike a cultural balance and reflect many modern trends that were prevalent in the 20th century and have directly influenced contemporary art.

The collection includes 25 works by Renoir, 15 by Cézanne, and 12 by Picasso. Other illustrious names, such as Gauguin, Monet, Sisley Matisse, and Modigliani, complete the list, contributing a layer of artistic complexity to challenging, fascinating, and sorrowful pieces – on which the artists labored during an exciting and complex period.

Final steps

Looking to the future is a necessary means of perpetuating the past. The changes of modern times require the museum to constantly adapt to the spirit of the times. The last renovation of the museum was carried out between 2006 and 2000. The architectural agency blp, led by Olivia Brucha, guided the construction process. The last two levels – where the collection items were housed, ceased to exist. Rooms in the basement contained the collection of Jean and Paul. The natural light, which was blocked as a result of the construction of the upper levels, once again bathed the lilies in its rays.

The work did not end there: temporary exhibition spaces were set up with the aim of once again providing visitors with the experience of participating in changing exhibitions. An auditorium, a learning and discussion space, and a magnificent library were the final seal of a constant contemporaneity attentive to the public's heartbeat. The surprising discovery of the remains of a wall – built during the reign of Louis XIII (as a means of protecting the Tuileries Palace), temporarily interrupted the renovation work and threatened those engaged in the work. Fortunately, minor architectural changes resolved the incident that could have occurred.

Since bureaucracy is an integral part of the stories of Parisian intrigue, I will note that in 2010 the two leading museums of Impressionist art were administratively linked, under the name 'Public Establishment of the Musées d'Orsay and the Orangerie' (in French: Établissement public des musées d'Orsay et de l'Orangerie).