The Louvre, the world’s most-visited museum and a global symbol of art, beauty, and endurance, remained shuttered on June 16 – not by war, not by terror, but by its own exhausted staff, who say the institution is crumbling from within.
It was an almost unthinkable sight: the home to works by Leonardo da Vinci and millennia of civilization’s greatest treasures – paralyzed by the very people tasked with welcoming the world to its galleries.
And yet, the moment felt bigger than a labor protest. The Louvre has become a bellwether of global overtourism – a gilded palace overwhelmed by its own popularity. As tourism magnets from Venice to the Acropolis scramble to cap crowds, the world’s most iconic museum is reaching a reckoning of its own.
The spontaneous strike erupted during a routine internal meeting, as gallery attendants, ticket agents, and security personnel refused to take up their posts in protest over unmanageable crowds, chronic understaffing, and what one union called “untenable” working conditions.
“It’s the Mona Lisa moan out here,” said Kevin Ward, from Milwaukee, one of thousands of confused visitors corralled into unmoving lines beneath I.M. Pei’s glass pyramid. “Thousands of people waiting, no communication, no explanation. I guess even she needs a day off.”
It’s a rare thing for the Louvre to close its doors to the public. It has happened during war, during the pandemic, and in a handful of strikes – including spontaneous walkouts over overcrowding in 2019 and safety fears in 2013. But seldom has it felt quite like this: tourists lining the plaza, tickets in hand, with no clear explanation for why the museum had, without warning, simply stopped.
The disruption comes just months after President Emmanuel Macron unveiled a sweeping decade-long plan to rescue the Louvre from precisely the problems now boiling over – water leaks, dangerous temperature swings, outdated infrastructure, and foot traffic far beyond what the museum can handle.
But for workers on the ground, that promised future feels distant.
“We can’t wait six years for help,” said Sarah Sefian of the CGT-Culture union. “Our teams are under pressure now. It’s not just about the art – it’s about the people protecting it.”
The Mona Lisa’s daily mob
At the center of it all, as always, is the Mona Lisa – a 16th-century portrait that draws modern-day crowds more akin to a celebrity meet-and-greet than an art experience.
Roughly 20,000 people a day squeeze into the Salle des États, the museum’s largest room, just to snap a selfie with Leonardo da Vinci’s enigmatic woman behind protective glass. The scene is often noisy, jostling, and so dense that many barely glance at the masterpieces flanking her – works by Titian and Veronese that go largely ignored.
“You don’t see a painting,” said Ji-Hyun Park, who flew from Seoul to Paris. “You see phones. You see elbows. You feel heat. And then, you’re pushed out.”
Mr. Macron’s renovation blueprint, dubbed the “Louvre New Renaissance,” promises a remedy. The Mona Lisa will finally get her own dedicated room, accessible through a timed-entry ticket. A new entrance near the Seine River is also planned by 2031 to relieve pressure from the overwhelmed pyramid hub.
“Conditions of display, explanation, and presentation will be up to what the Mona Lisa deserves,” Mr. Macron said in January.
A museum in limbo
The Louvre welcomed 8.7 million visitors last year – more than double what its infrastructure was designed to accommodate. Even with a daily cap of 30,000, staff say the experience has become a daily test of endurance, with too few rest areas, limited bathrooms, and summer heat magnified by the pyramid’s greenhouse effect.
In a leaked memo, Louvre President Laurence des Cars warned that parts of the building are “no longer watertight,” that temperature fluctuations endanger priceless art, and that even basic visitor needs – food, restrooms, signage – fall far below international standards. She described the experience simply as “a physical ordeal.”
“What began as a scheduled monthly information session turned into a mass expression of exasperation,” Ms. Sefian said. Talks between workers and management began at 10:30 a.m. and continued into the afternoon. As of the early afternoon, the museum remained closed.
The full renovation plan – with a projected cost of €700–800 million [more than $900 million] – is expected to be financed through ticket revenue, private donations, state funds, and licensing fees from the Louvre’s Abu Dhabi branch. Ticket prices for non-EU tourists are expected to rise later this year.
But workers say their needs are more urgent than any 10-year plan.
Unlike other major sites in Paris, such as Notre-Dame Cathedral or the Centre Pompidou museum, both of which are undergoing government-backed restorations, the Louvre remains stuck in limbo – neither fully funded nor fully functional.
President Macron, who delivered his 2017 election victory speech at the Louvre and showcased it during the 2024 Paris Olympics, has promised a safer, more modern museum by the end of the decade.
Until then, France’s greatest cultural treasure – and the crowds who flock to it – remain caught between the cracks.
This story was reported by The Associated Press. Laurie Kellman in Paris contributed to this report.
