The memory of the Water Lilies
The memory of the Water Lilies A shell passed through one of the paintings. It was 1944. I'm in the Water Lilies room, the second and perhaps most secret room, at the back of the Musée de l'Orangerie. My father is with me. At the entrance, he is asked to leave his umbrella behind, perhaps for fear that in a rash move, he might...
