From the Islamic Galleries at the Musee du Louvre (Paris, France)

In his book, Covering Islam, author Edward Said argues that, “very little of the detail, the human density, the passion of Arab-Muslim life has entered the awareness of even those people whose profession it is to report the Islamic world.” He’s referring to the fact that there is a marginalized view of the Arab world, one that is often misrepresented and lacking of perspective.

I believe he is right. In the fall of 2012, I registered for a course titled, "Islam and the West," which focused on what Islam is, its teachings, and its relation to the rest of the world. I distinctly remember on the first day of class, our professor asked each one of us to describe what the west was. As a group of American students studying in a foreign country with a dense population of Muslims, we were naïve (and at times ignorant) about this faith, but could easily distinguish that there was Islam, and then there was something else; the “other”. Perhaps more learned behavior than instinctually, we all categorized the west as being different from Islam, despite considering our classroom environment (London) as being both the home to many Muslims and “western.” Herein lies the first dichotomy.

Even now, I can’t say I fully understand Islam. I went to a cultural center that doubled as a mosque and spoke to an Imam. I listened as my professor tried to explain the breadth of the religion and his personal experiences growing up Muslim. I can’t even verify the extent he knows Islam, because it is just that rich in history and context. I regard its complexity, and I can sometimes relate to people when they are reluctant to embrace what they don’t know. Furthermore, it oftentimes gets a bad reputation from the media in America.

And yet, I spent a weekend in Istanbul and repositioned Islam in my mind. I opened up to a new world, and experienced some of the most amazing architecture, art and hospitality that I have ever witnessed. I visited historical sights from hundreds of years ago, and instantly felt like I was in the presence of something greater than myself. And I walked into religious buildings that belonged to a different religion than my own and I understood their peace.

All of this said, I connected most with the art I saw on the walls of the buildings. The mosaic walls of the harem and its courtyard in Topkapi Palace took my breath away. Not only were they stunning, but they seemed perfect and continuous.

So when I went into the new Islamic Galleries at the Musee du Louvre in Paris, I was instantly attracted to the mosaic displays. Multiple columns of unique mosaics adorned the back wall of the downstairs gallery.

The plaque adjacent to the mosaic display said the following: (1560-1620) The heyday of Iznik and Kutahya wares; Large quantities of underglase painted ceramic tiles were produced in Iznik and Kutahya. They were intended for monuments erected by sultans and high officials, mainly in Istanbul. Designers attached to the palace would sometimes provide their models. Around 1555-1560 there appeared a red colour in slight relief obtained by an iron slip. This red was soon associated with emerald green. In mosques, mausoleums or rooms in a palace, walls could be fully tiled right up to the base of the vaults. In some religious buildings ceramic tiling adorned on the mihrab area, as well as the tops of windows and doors, as the tyrupana from Piyale Pasha Mosque.

In the Harem's Courtyard at Topkapi Palace in Istanbul | Adriana Anderson (center)

There are pieces in Islamic art that are just as, if not more, powerful than these mosaics. However, the history of the use of these mosaics is what I find really interesting. For example, the photo of myself is from the harem, where all the women associated with the sultan would live, including the mother of the sultan and the concubines she watched over, in addition to the sultan’s wives. Could you imagine having such beautiful mosaics adorn your walls? Mind you, these walls were extensive (upwards of 400 rooms in this particular harem). It is definitely a sight, whether you are looking at these blocks of mosaic walls in a museum, or an entire harem. The intricacies are incredible, the history is overwhelming, and it is just one example of how the unknown can be incredibly worthwhile.

*A small corridor off of rue Saint André Des Arts*

After a quick decision to stop for lunch at a nearby Parisian café led to the lingering of time and a sense of excitement that class was over, a small group of us wandered from the entrance of a textbook store down a familiar street that had been used as a gateway to the metro only days before. With an interest in exploring a new section of Paris and a memory of its picturesque streets, we decided to see what the 6th arrondissement of Paris had to offer.

Just as Guy Debord mentions in "Theory of the Dérive," the lessons drawn from dérives enable us to draw up the first surveys of the psychogeographical articulations of a modern city. Beyond the discovery of unities of ambiance, of their main components and their spatial localization, one comes to perceive their principal axes of passage, their exits and their defenses...One measures the distances that actually separate two regions of a city, distances that may have little relation with the physical distance between them."

My dérive began in Le Quartier Saint Germain des Prés and continued through Le Quartier de la Monnaie. This area of Paris offers a refuge for tourists and Parisians alike, with many options in shopping, cuisine and nightlife. After walking only a few moments, it was clear that the 6th arrondissement caters to those interested in old world values and new age luxuries. This dichotomy was presented through the many bookstores and craftsmanship-focused boutiques and their juxtaposing avant-garde and contemporary fashion stores and art galleries.

Grim'Art Specialty & Artisanal Papeterie

Nestled between larger blocks (albeit, still small compared to American streets) were narrow cobblestone streets open only to pedestrian traffic. Here, I was reintroduced to a way of thinking I had grown to appreciate myself: quality before anything else. From a chocolatier and tea room filled with gorgeous treats that looked too good to eat, to a leather goods shop that made everything by hand and in-store to even a stationary store that offered calligraphy pens with small pots of ink and gold foiled wrapping paper, the message was clear that well made goods were preferred and change is not always better.

Along the opposite side of the corridor were cafés and restaurants with many patrons enjoying the warmth of Paris in July. Despite the fact that it was July 4th and I had been distinctly aware of what I was missing back home earlier in the day, I welcomed my new surroundings. I felt like I had been transported to a simpler time when this environment was not the exception, but the norm. In other words, a time when people did not search for faster and less expensive solutions for their everyday necessities, but rather, enjoyed the craftsmanship and quality of work that went into their food, goods, and correspondence. This side of Paris was refreshing. It was different from anything else I had experienced, due in part to the lack of crowds but also to the fact that it was a testimony to Parisian values as introduced to me when I first came to Paris years ago. "Parisian values are different from Americans," I was told. "They want quality, not quantity, and they don't settle often--if ever."

Un Dimanche ˙a Paris Tea Salon and Chocolatier

Returning back to the main road after our detour, we continued down rue Saint André Des Arts to see what else we could explore. On one side of the street was a modern art gallery that caught my eye for its seemingly inappropriate existence in this antiquated district. Yet, it seemed to fit in just fine. After the immediate shock of something so different from its surroundings, I realized that most (if not all) of the establishments I had seen had been very similar upon a second glance. They all shared the commonality of an artistic focus. (I later learned that this area of Paris is historically referred to as the area for the "intelligentsia" crowd who valued intellectual curiosity and cultural exploration.) As a writer and reader, though, my favorite find along this road was a small bookstore nestled in the middle of the block. It could have been easily missed by someone looking for flashing lights or large window displays, but its old-fashioned door sign and numerous stacks of books that could be seen from outside the store immediately lured me to the other side of the street.

Here, I also found a clothing boutique that presented Parisian fashion in a unique way. Although it did not seem unique from the exterior, Allison's selection of French and American designers offered me familiar finds and new discoveries, but the practice of displaying designers' current look-books above the racks was something I had never experienced. The saleswoman was exceptionally helpful, and even took the time to explain the location of the other stores and surrounding locales.

Before long, we decided that it was time our adventure in the 6th arrondissement come to an end for the day. However, we found ourselves back in the same area later on that evening to celebrate the American holiday. Turning down a street well lit by glowing neon café logos and candles lit at the tables for patrons dining al fresco, we were met with the surprising gift of street performers. They had cornered off the block with their cars, blasted music from an outdated boom-box and a crowd of passersby and dinner guests formed a circle around them. We said good night to this previously unfamiliar area of Paris, and I knew then that the area would become a favorite Parisian destination of mine for years to come.

An Attempt to Understand Islam Through Art

A Dérive Through Paris