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Тест 77. Чтение. ЕГЭ по английскому языку
1)
Установите соответствие между заголовками
1 — 8
и текстами
A — G
. Используйте каждую цифру только один раз.
В задании один заголовок лишний
.
1.
Why extreme sports are popular
2.
Combination of two sports
3.
Competition with food
4.
Sport or performance?
5.
Known to everybody
6.
Taken from literature
7.
Danger in the snow
8.
A skill not used
A.
Poohsticks is a sport first mentioned in “The House at Pooh Corner”, a Winnie-the-Pooh book by A. A. Milne. It is a simple sport which may be played on any bridge over running water. Each player drops a stick on the upstream side of a bridge and the one whose stick first appears on the downstream side is the winner. The annual World Poohsticks Championships have been held at Day’s Lock on the River Thames in the UK since 1984.
B.
Chess boxing is a hybrid sport that consists of chess and boxing in alternating rounds. The sport was invented by French artist and filmmaker Enki Bilal in his comic book “Froid Equateur” in 1992. The first real event of chess-boxing was organized by Dutch artist Iepe Rubingh in 2003. Chess boxing is a fast growing sport. The sport alternates between games of boxing and chess after each round – waiting for a checkmate or knockout to decide the match.
C.
In heliskiing people pay a large sum of money to get helicoptered to a remote snow-covered area only to ski down the white slope. These skiers spend hundreds of dollars to ski down a natural landscape unlike the artificial slopes of a ski-resort. Most obviously, the natural environment involves greater risks and discomfort. Even the journey into the interior part of a mountainous area has often been life-threatening in the past.
D.
Cheese rolling is something that has been around for over 200 years and is still practiced today. During the Spring Bank Holiday in England, people gather at the top of Coopers Hill and prepare for something very exciting. At the top of the hill, a judge rolls a round of cheese down the slope and the participants follow. People try to run down the slope but often end up rolling down like the cheese. The winner of the race wins the round of cheese as well as a few bruises and scars.
E.
It’s possible that extreme sports became trendy in the late 20th century as a reaction to the greater safety of modern life. Lacking a feeling of danger in their everyday activities, people wanted more excitement or risk. Another reason is improved sports technology. For example, the invention of sticky rubber-soled climbing shoes and artificial climbing walls increased the appeal of rock climbing. And advances in ski design allowed more skiers to try extreme feats.
F.
Extreme Ironing is an extreme sport and a performance art. People who play this unusual sport go to a remote location and iron clothes! They call themselves “ironists”, and get a thrill from taking their ironing board, unplugged iron and some of their clothes to some extreme places and photograph themselves doing it. Such places that they have reached include extreme altitude, underwater, hanging from cliffs, and on top of vehicles.
G.
Approximately 65 thousand people in the United States alone do not know how to swim. Many of them learned as young children but never go to a pool, lake, river, or ocean anymore and have forgotten how to swim over the years. Others were never taught and continue to avoid the activity altogether. It was once thought that knowing how to swim was important for safety reasons, but now it is pretty much left up to the individual.
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
🔗
2)
Прочитайте текст и заполните пропуски
A — F
частями предложений, обозначенными цифрами
1 — 7
. Одна из частей в списке 1—7
лишняя
.
State Hermitage Museum
The Hermitage is St. Petersburg’s most popular visitor attraction, and one of the world’s largest and most prestigious museums. It is a must-see for all first-time travellers to the city. With over 3 million items in its collection, it also rewards repeat visits,
___ (A)
of the riches on offer here, from Impressionist masterpieces to fascinating Oriental treasures. It was estimated
___ (B)
on display for just one minute. So many visitors prefer a guided tour to ensure
___ (C)
highlights. Art-lovers, however, may find it more rewarding to seek out for themselves the works
___ (D)
.
The bulk of the Hermitage collection is housed in the Winter Palace,
___ (E)
. However, there are a number of other sites that constitute part of the Hermitage, including the recently opened Storage Facility in the north of St. Petersburg. It offers guided tours through some of the museum’s vast stocks. The magnificent General Staff Building opposite the Winter Palace is most famous for its central triumphal arch,
___ (F)
Nevsky Prospekt. The General Staff Building contains a number of unique exhibitions. It includes the Modern European Art, probably the most visited section of the Hermitage with well-known collections of Picasso and Matisse, as well as a wealth of popular Impressionist paintings.
1.
that they are particularly interested in
2.
that they have time to catch all the collection’s
3.
and new-comers can only hope to get a brief taste
4.
which brings pedestrians out on to Palace Squarefrom
5.
that one would need eleven years to view each exhibit
6.
which was the official residence of the Russian emperors
7.
and the exhibition was often visited by military historians
A
B
C
D
E
F
🔗
3)
Прочитайте текст и запишите в поле ответа цифру
1, 2, 3 или 4
, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.
Показать текст. ⇓
How a Paris abbey became a science museum
A trip to Europe without visiting museums would be like a trip to Fiji without visiting a beach. It just seems wrong to ignore such an embarrassment of riches. So when I was in France last year, I dutifully walked through museums, but I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. Every time I think about going to a museum, it seems like a fascinating way to spend an afternoon, but once I get there, I almost always find myself getting very sleepy by the time I get to the second gallery. I try to be enthusiastic…but usually I’m no match for the long halls of display cases.
There is an exception to this rule, though: science museums. I love inventions and gadgets, getting to know how things work and how people went about solving very difficult problems. I can stay awake in a good science museum indefinitely. So while in Paris, I visited the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. Part of this centuries-old institution is a museum that’s open to the public, and it contains a fascinating variety of objects and exhibits including the original Foucault’s Pendulum.
The Conservatory is off the beaten path; most English guidebooks don’t even mention it. It does, however, attract a certain number of pilgrims who were fascinated by Umberto Eco’s novel Foucault’s Pendulum, part of which takes place there. In the novel, a secret passage under the floor of the nave connects with the Paris sewers. That isn’t the case in reality, but truth is perhaps more interesting than fiction. There is something under the floor of the nave, a curious part of the building’s long and strange history.
The foundation for the abbey church of St. Martin of the Fields was laid around 1059, about the time of the Norman conquest. Over the next centuries, numerous additions and renovations were undertaken. All that changed in the French Revolution when under the name of Conservatory of Arts and Trades, it became a depository for machines, models, tools, drawings, descriptions and books in all the areas of the arts and trades. It officially opened in 1802.
The museum closed for a renovation in 1993, and as part of the process, archaeological excavations were undertaken beneath the floor of the nave. For the entire history of the church, there had been stories that the site on which it stood was once a Merovingian funerary basilica, but this had never been proven. What archaeologists discovered was a large necropolis dating from the 6th or 7th century with about 100 plaster coffins inside. The tales were indeed true.
When the museum reopened a few years later, it was a typical shiny and up-to-date science museum. But it was decided that their thousands of additional articles should be made available to scholars even when they’re not on exhibit. So they opened a satellite facility in the nearby town of Saint-Denis, where by appointment only qualified researchers can go to examine the rest of the museum’s collection.
I’ve been to the Conservatory in 2000 and in 2003. As a science museum I found it a sheer delight. The former abbey is only a portion of the museum, and the museum is only a portion of the Conservatory. But all the history of the building and the institution seems to be concentrated in the large nave with its bones beneath and gadgets above. The odd contrast of centuries of monastic simplicity with centuries of technological progress tickles me in a way I can’t easily describe. Perhaps the Pendulum says it best: as a scientific wonder that’s also meditatively simple, it symbolically bridges the illusory divide between technology and spirituality.
According to the author, visiting museums in Europe is considered to
1) become more and more popular.
2) be an integral part of any journey.
3) show the level of one’s education.
4) be the evidence of general curiosity.
🔗
4)
Прочитайте текст и запишите в поле ответа цифру
1, 2, 3 или 4
, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.
Показать текст. ⇓
How a Paris abbey became a science museum
A trip to Europe without visiting museums would be like a trip to Fiji without visiting a beach. It just seems wrong to ignore such an embarrassment of riches. So when I was in France last year, I dutifully walked through museums, but I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. Every time I think about going to a museum, it seems like a fascinating way to spend an afternoon, but once I get there, I almost always find myself getting very sleepy by the time I get to the second gallery. I try to be enthusiastic…but usually I’m no match for the long halls of display cases.
There is an exception to this rule, though: science museums. I love inventions and gadgets, getting to know how things work and how people went about solving very difficult problems. I can stay awake in a good science museum indefinitely. So while in Paris, I visited the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. Part of this centuries-old institution is a museum that’s open to the public, and it contains a fascinating variety of objects and exhibits including the original Foucault’s Pendulum.
The Conservatory is off the beaten path; most English guidebooks don’t even mention it. It does, however, attract a certain number of pilgrims who were fascinated by Umberto Eco’s novel Foucault’s Pendulum, part of which takes place there. In the novel, a secret passage under the floor of the nave connects with the Paris sewers. That isn’t the case in reality, but truth is perhaps more interesting than fiction. There is something under the floor of the nave, a curious part of the building’s long and strange history.
The foundation for the abbey church of St. Martin of the Fields was laid around 1059, about the time of the Norman conquest. Over the next centuries, numerous additions and renovations were undertaken. All that changed in the French Revolution when under the name of Conservatory of Arts and Trades, it became a depository for machines, models, tools, drawings, descriptions and books in all the areas of the arts and trades. It officially opened in 1802.
The museum closed for a renovation in 1993, and as part of the process, archaeological excavations were undertaken beneath the floor of the nave. For the entire history of the church, there had been stories that the site on which it stood was once a Merovingian funerary basilica, but this had never been proven. What archaeologists discovered was a large necropolis dating from the 6th or 7th century with about 100 plaster coffins inside. The tales were indeed true.
When the museum reopened a few years later, it was a typical shiny and up-to-date science museum. But it was decided that their thousands of additional articles should be made available to scholars even when they’re not on exhibit. So they opened a satellite facility in the nearby town of Saint-Denis, where by appointment only qualified researchers can go to examine the rest of the museum’s collection.
I’ve been to the Conservatory in 2000 and in 2003. As a science museum I found it a sheer delight. The former abbey is only a portion of the museum, and the museum is only a portion of the Conservatory. But all the history of the building and the institution seems to be concentrated in the large nave with its bones beneath and gadgets above. The odd contrast of centuries of monastic simplicity with centuries of technological progress tickles me in a way I can’t easily describe. Perhaps the Pendulum says it best: as a scientific wonder that’s also meditatively simple, it symbolically bridges the illusory divide between technology and spirituality.
What does the author think about museums?
1) The European museums are the best.
2) He finds most of them to be boring.
3) There should be only science museums.
4) He thinks they are a waste of money.
🔗
5)
Прочитайте текст и запишите в поле ответа цифру
1, 2, 3 или 4
, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.
Показать текст. ⇓
How a Paris abbey became a science museum
A trip to Europe without visiting museums would be like a trip to Fiji without visiting a beach. It just seems wrong to ignore such an embarrassment of riches. So when I was in France last year, I dutifully walked through museums, but I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. Every time I think about going to a museum, it seems like a fascinating way to spend an afternoon, but once I get there, I almost always find myself getting very sleepy by the time I get to the second gallery. I try to be enthusiastic…but usually I’m no match for the long halls of display cases.
There is an exception to this rule, though: science museums. I love inventions and gadgets, getting to know how things work and how people went about solving very difficult problems. I can stay awake in a good science museum indefinitely. So while in Paris, I visited the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. Part of this centuries-old institution is a museum that’s open to the public, and it contains a fascinating variety of objects and exhibits including the original Foucault’s Pendulum.
The Conservatory is off the beaten path; most English guidebooks don’t even mention it. It does, however, attract a certain number of pilgrims who were fascinated by Umberto Eco’s novel Foucault’s Pendulum, part of which takes place there. In the novel, a secret passage under the floor of the nave connects with the Paris sewers. That isn’t the case in reality, but truth is perhaps more interesting than fiction. There is something under the floor of the nave, a curious part of the building’s long and strange history.
The foundation for the abbey church of St. Martin of the Fields was laid around 1059, about the time of the Norman conquest. Over the next centuries, numerous additions and renovations were undertaken. All that changed in the French Revolution when under the name of Conservatory of Arts and Trades, it became a depository for machines, models, tools, drawings, descriptions and books in all the areas of the arts and trades. It officially opened in 1802.
The museum closed for a renovation in 1993, and as part of the process, archaeological excavations were undertaken beneath the floor of the nave. For the entire history of the church, there had been stories that the site on which it stood was once a Merovingian funerary basilica, but this had never been proven. What archaeologists discovered was a large necropolis dating from the 6th or 7th century with about 100 plaster coffins inside. The tales were indeed true.
When the museum reopened a few years later, it was a typical shiny and up-to-date science museum. But it was decided that their thousands of additional articles should be made available to scholars even when they’re not on exhibit. So they opened a satellite facility in the nearby town of Saint-Denis, where by appointment only qualified researchers can go to examine the rest of the museum’s collection.
I’ve been to the Conservatory in 2000 and in 2003. As a science museum I found it a sheer delight. The former abbey is only a portion of the museum, and the museum is only a portion of the Conservatory. But all the history of the building and the institution seems to be concentrated in the large nave with its bones beneath and gadgets above. The odd contrast of centuries of monastic simplicity with centuries of technological progress tickles me in a way I can’t easily describe. Perhaps the Pendulum says it best: as a scientific wonder that’s also meditatively simple, it symbolically bridges the illusory divide between technology and spirituality.
Which of the following does NOT explain the author’s love for science museums?
1) He loves history of gadgets.
2) There is a chance to see how mechanisms work.
3) It’s possible to touch the things that he likes.
4) The author likes stories of inventions.
🔗
6)
Прочитайте текст и запишите в поле ответа цифру
1, 2, 3 или 4
, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.
Показать текст. ⇓
How a Paris abbey became a science museum
A trip to Europe without visiting museums would be like a trip to Fiji without visiting a beach. It just seems wrong to ignore such an embarrassment of riches. So when I was in France last year, I dutifully walked through museums, but I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. Every time I think about going to a museum, it seems like a fascinating way to spend an afternoon, but once I get there, I almost always find myself getting very sleepy by the time I get to the second gallery. I try to be enthusiastic…but usually I’m no match for the long halls of display cases.
There is an exception to this rule, though: science museums. I love inventions and gadgets, getting to know how things work and how people went about solving very difficult problems. I can stay awake in a good science museum indefinitely. So while in Paris, I visited the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. Part of this centuries-old institution is a museum that’s open to the public, and it contains a fascinating variety of objects and exhibits including the original Foucault’s Pendulum.
The Conservatory is off the beaten path; most English guidebooks don’t even mention it. It does, however, attract a certain number of pilgrims who were fascinated by Umberto Eco’s novel Foucault’s Pendulum, part of which takes place there. In the novel, a secret passage under the floor of the nave connects with the Paris sewers. That isn’t the case in reality, but truth is perhaps more interesting than fiction. There is something under the floor of the nave, a curious part of the building’s long and strange history.
The foundation for the abbey church of St. Martin of the Fields was laid around 1059, about the time of the Norman conquest. Over the next centuries, numerous additions and renovations were undertaken. All that changed in the French Revolution when under the name of Conservatory of Arts and Trades, it became a depository for machines, models, tools, drawings, descriptions and books in all the areas of the arts and trades. It officially opened in 1802.
The museum closed for a renovation in 1993, and as part of the process, archaeological excavations were undertaken beneath the floor of the nave. For the entire history of the church, there had been stories that the site on which it stood was once a Merovingian funerary basilica, but this had never been proven. What archaeologists discovered was a large necropolis dating from the 6th or 7th century with about 100 plaster coffins inside. The tales were indeed true.
When the museum reopened a few years later, it was a typical shiny and up-to-date science museum. But it was decided that their thousands of additional articles should be made available to scholars even when they’re not on exhibit. So they opened a satellite facility in the nearby town of Saint-Denis, where by appointment only qualified researchers can go to examine the rest of the museum’s collection.
I’ve been to the Conservatory in 2000 and in 2003. As a science museum I found it a sheer delight. The former abbey is only a portion of the museum, and the museum is only a portion of the Conservatory. But all the history of the building and the institution seems to be concentrated in the large nave with its bones beneath and gadgets above. The odd contrast of centuries of monastic simplicity with centuries of technological progress tickles me in a way I can’t easily describe. Perhaps the Pendulum says it best: as a scientific wonder that’s also meditatively simple, it symbolically bridges the illusory divide between technology and spirituality.
According to the author, the Conservatory is popular with the
1) local people.
2) fans of a famous book.
3) English guides.
4) scholars.
🔗
7)
Прочитайте текст и запишите в поле ответа цифру
1, 2, 3 или 4
, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.
Показать текст. ⇓
How a Paris abbey became a science museum
A trip to Europe without visiting museums would be like a trip to Fiji without visiting a beach. It just seems wrong to ignore such an embarrassment of riches. So when I was in France last year, I dutifully walked through museums, but I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. Every time I think about going to a museum, it seems like a fascinating way to spend an afternoon, but once I get there, I almost always find myself getting very sleepy by the time I get to the second gallery. I try to be enthusiastic…but usually I’m no match for the long halls of display cases.
There is an exception to this rule, though: science museums. I love inventions and gadgets, getting to know how things work and how people went about solving very difficult problems. I can stay awake in a good science museum indefinitely. So while in Paris, I visited the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. Part of this centuries-old institution is a museum that’s open to the public, and it contains a fascinating variety of objects and exhibits including the original Foucault’s Pendulum.
The Conservatory is off the beaten path; most English guidebooks don’t even mention it. It does, however, attract a certain number of pilgrims who were fascinated by Umberto Eco’s novel Foucault’s Pendulum, part of which takes place there. In the novel, a secret passage under the floor of the nave connects with the Paris sewers. That isn’t the case in reality, but truth is perhaps more interesting than fiction. There is something under the floor of the nave, a curious part of the building’s long and strange history.
The foundation for the abbey church of St. Martin of the Fields was laid around 1059, about the time of the Norman conquest. Over the next centuries, numerous additions and renovations were undertaken. All that changed in the French Revolution when under the name of Conservatory of Arts and Trades, it became a depository for machines, models, tools, drawings, descriptions and books in all the areas of the arts and trades. It officially opened in 1802.
The museum closed for a renovation in 1993, and as part of the process, archaeological excavations were undertaken beneath the floor of the nave. For the entire history of the church, there had been stories that the site on which it stood was once a Merovingian funerary basilica, but this had never been proven. What archaeologists discovered was a large necropolis dating from the 6th or 7th century with about 100 plaster coffins inside. The tales were indeed true.
When the museum reopened a few years later, it was a typical shiny and up-to-date science museum. But it was decided that their thousands of additional articles should be made available to scholars even when they’re not on exhibit. So they opened a satellite facility in the nearby town of Saint-Denis, where by appointment only qualified researchers can go to examine the rest of the museum’s collection.
I’ve been to the Conservatory in 2000 and in 2003. As a science museum I found it a sheer delight. The former abbey is only a portion of the museum, and the museum is only a portion of the Conservatory. But all the history of the building and the institution seems to be concentrated in the large nave with its bones beneath and gadgets above. The odd contrast of centuries of monastic simplicity with centuries of technological progress tickles me in a way I can’t easily describe. Perhaps the Pendulum says it best: as a scientific wonder that’s also meditatively simple, it symbolically bridges the illusory divide between technology and spirituality.
The reason the archaeological excavations started was the need to
1) find Merovingian treasures.
2) solve some construction problems.
3) strengthen the basement.
4) prove the story of the site.
🔗
8)
Прочитайте текст и запишите в поле ответа цифру
1, 2, 3 или 4
, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.
Показать текст. ⇓
How a Paris abbey became a science museum
A trip to Europe without visiting museums would be like a trip to Fiji without visiting a beach. It just seems wrong to ignore such an embarrassment of riches. So when I was in France last year, I dutifully walked through museums, but I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. Every time I think about going to a museum, it seems like a fascinating way to spend an afternoon, but once I get there, I almost always find myself getting very sleepy by the time I get to the second gallery. I try to be enthusiastic…but usually I’m no match for the long halls of display cases.
There is an exception to this rule, though: science museums. I love inventions and gadgets, getting to know how things work and how people went about solving very difficult problems. I can stay awake in a good science museum indefinitely. So while in Paris, I visited the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. Part of this centuries-old institution is a museum that’s open to the public, and it contains a fascinating variety of objects and exhibits including the original Foucault’s Pendulum.
The Conservatory is off the beaten path; most English guidebooks don’t even mention it. It does, however, attract a certain number of pilgrims who were fascinated by Umberto Eco’s novel Foucault’s Pendulum, part of which takes place there. In the novel, a secret passage under the floor of the nave connects with the Paris sewers. That isn’t the case in reality, but truth is perhaps more interesting than fiction. There is something under the floor of the nave, a curious part of the building’s long and strange history.
The foundation for the abbey church of St. Martin of the Fields was laid around 1059, about the time of the Norman conquest. Over the next centuries, numerous additions and renovations were undertaken. All that changed in the French Revolution when under the name of Conservatory of Arts and Trades, it became a depository for machines, models, tools, drawings, descriptions and books in all the areas of the arts and trades. It officially opened in 1802.
The museum closed for a renovation in 1993, and as part of the process, archaeological excavations were undertaken beneath the floor of the nave. For the entire history of the church, there had been stories that the site on which it stood was once a Merovingian funerary basilica, but this had never been proven. What archaeologists discovered was a large necropolis dating from the 6th or 7th century with about 100 plaster coffins inside. The tales were indeed true.
When the museum reopened a few years later, it was a typical shiny and up-to-date science museum. But it was decided that their thousands of additional articles should be made available to scholars even when they’re not on exhibit. So they opened a satellite facility in the nearby town of Saint-Denis, where by appointment only qualified researchers can go to examine the rest of the museum’s collection.
I’ve been to the Conservatory in 2000 and in 2003. As a science museum I found it a sheer delight. The former abbey is only a portion of the museum, and the museum is only a portion of the Conservatory. But all the history of the building and the institution seems to be concentrated in the large nave with its bones beneath and gadgets above. The odd contrast of centuries of monastic simplicity with centuries of technological progress tickles me in a way I can’t easily describe. Perhaps the Pendulum says it best: as a scientific wonder that’s also meditatively simple, it symbolically bridges the illusory divide between technology and spirituality.
“A satellite facility” in phrase “ they opened a satellite facility” (paragraph 6) refers to
1) a minor educational site.
2) a research area.
3) a place for additional exhibits.
4) the museum’s laboratory.
🔗
9)
Прочитайте текст и запишите в поле ответа цифру
1, 2, 3 или 4
, соответствующую выбранному Вами варианту ответа.
Показать текст. ⇓
How a Paris abbey became a science museum
A trip to Europe without visiting museums would be like a trip to Fiji without visiting a beach. It just seems wrong to ignore such an embarrassment of riches. So when I was in France last year, I dutifully walked through museums, but I soon noticed a strange phenomenon. Every time I think about going to a museum, it seems like a fascinating way to spend an afternoon, but once I get there, I almost always find myself getting very sleepy by the time I get to the second gallery. I try to be enthusiastic…but usually I’m no match for the long halls of display cases.
There is an exception to this rule, though: science museums. I love inventions and gadgets, getting to know how things work and how people went about solving very difficult problems. I can stay awake in a good science museum indefinitely. So while in Paris, I visited the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. Part of this centuries-old institution is a museum that’s open to the public, and it contains a fascinating variety of objects and exhibits including the original Foucault’s Pendulum.
The Conservatory is off the beaten path; most English guidebooks don’t even mention it. It does, however, attract a certain number of pilgrims who were fascinated by Umberto Eco’s novel Foucault’s Pendulum, part of which takes place there. In the novel, a secret passage under the floor of the nave connects with the Paris sewers. That isn’t the case in reality, but truth is perhaps more interesting than fiction. There is something under the floor of the nave, a curious part of the building’s long and strange history.
The foundation for the abbey church of St. Martin of the Fields was laid around 1059, about the time of the Norman conquest. Over the next centuries, numerous additions and renovations were undertaken. All that changed in the French Revolution when under the name of Conservatory of Arts and Trades, it became a depository for machines, models, tools, drawings, descriptions and books in all the areas of the arts and trades. It officially opened in 1802.
The museum closed for a renovation in 1993, and as part of the process, archaeological excavations were undertaken beneath the floor of the nave. For the entire history of the church, there had been stories that the site on which it stood was once a Merovingian funerary basilica, but this had never been proven. What archaeologists discovered was a large necropolis dating from the 6th or 7th century with about 100 plaster coffins inside. The tales were indeed true.
When the museum reopened a few years later, it was a typical shiny and up-to-date science museum. But it was decided that their thousands of additional articles should be made available to scholars even when they’re not on exhibit. So they opened a satellite facility in the nearby town of Saint-Denis, where by appointment only qualified researchers can go to examine the rest of the museum’s collection.
I’ve been to the Conservatory in 2000 and in 2003. As a science museum I found it a sheer delight. The former abbey is only a portion of the museum, and the museum is only a portion of the Conservatory. But all the history of the building and the institution seems to be concentrated in the large nave with its bones beneath and gadgets above. The odd contrast of centuries of monastic simplicity with centuries of technological progress tickles me in a way I can’t easily describe. Perhaps the Pendulum says it best: as a scientific wonder that’s also meditatively simple, it symbolically bridges the illusory divide between technology and spirituality.
Visiting the museum the author is impressed by
1) its size, history and facilities.
2) the number of technological exhibits.
3) the mixture of material and immaterial in its environment.
4) the symbols he finds there.
🔗