Paris, February 2010—I get a thrill whenever I walk into the Folies Bergères, past its Art Deco façade and into its kitsch lobby that looks like something out of Dr. Seuss. Then to the seating at the first balcony that still has the old iron, wood, and velour feel of an authentic Paris music hall—preferably to the privileged box seats, front row. Or better still, to the higher comfort of the orchestra seating where, before the show starts, it’s easy to imagine that I’m awaiting the arrival of Josephine Baker or Mistinguett or Maurice Chevalier.