“An embassy for an entire country?” a hushed voice asks from one of the tourists I am guiding through Paris. “Seems excessive, doesn’t it?”. We all turn toward the voice. A young woman is staring up at the imposing facade of the Hu00f4tel de Bu00e9hague. And indeed, the grand mansion before us does exude an air of opulence. “Not if you consider its history,” I say, gathering the group closer. “This, my friends, is not just any embassy, it’s the Romanian Embassy.” The Hu00f4tel de Bu00e9hague has witnessed over a century of Parisian history. It was built in 1866 for Count Octave de Bu00e9hague, a testament to his wealth and status. But the story takes a fascinating turn with his daughter, Martine. Inheriting the Hu00f4tel de Bu00e9hague, she embarked on a lavish renovation, transforming it into a showcase for her impressive art collection. Imagine grand salons adorned with masterpieces by the likes of Watteau and Fragonard. Picture a library, its shelves overflowing with rare books, overseen by none other than the poet Paul Valery, Martine’s personal librarian. Upon her death in 1939, the Hu00f4tel de Bu00e9hague was acquired by the Romanian state. It became the new home of the Romanian Embassy, replacing their previous location near the Arc de Triomphe. And who was the first Romanian ambassador to grace this magnificent residence? None other than the charismatic, albeit controversial, Gheorghe Tu0103tu0103rescu. So, as we stand here, admiring the Hu00f4tel de Bu00e9hague, we’re not just looking at a building. We’re glimpsing a world of art, history, and a touch of political intrigue, all woven into the very fabric of this Parisian masterpiece.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to