Paul from Paris

If a requiem mass were a book, that book might be Paris perdu.

Paris perdu is a coffee-table book written by a collective and featuring hundreds of interesting photographs; as befits the funereal tone, all of the latter are in black and white.

The book’s title means “lost Paris”, although the title also is a pun on “losing bets” or “a lost wager”.

The book’s subject is the loss suffered by various Paris neighborhoods through urban renewal, renovation, and development.

This reader found the text militant and ultimately superfluous: Paris perdu makes a strong case through its use of photographs. All of the photographs were chosen carefully, and many of them are intriguing. They make Paris perdu a great book for leisurely, repeated viewing, for any lover of Paris. I was particularly captivated, and dismayed, by a treasure of photographs of the Halles before their demolition and replacement by a commuter train hub and shopping mall (whose renovation is pending).

Paris perdu has two weaknesses, both rhetorical. First, it overstates its case at times. From a safe remove (of fifty or a hundred years), poverty or squalor can seem charming, or at least photogenic. Subdivision, cramped living quarters, and tuberculosis are ills on which this book does not long dwell. Second, instead of resting its case by presenting what is no longer, the book too often makes a point by contrasting the past (authentic, rich) with the present (standardized, enriching only for developers).

Paris perdu was published in 1991 by Editions Carré. It is no longer in print, but can be found in used bookshops or in libraries.

5 rue de Luynes

“Finally, we’ll describe the charm of detail, of invention, of inspiration from nature for the sculpted elements that seduced all of us in an apartment building on the rue de Luynes, by the architect Pradelle.”

These were the remarks made by the jury when it chose Pradelle and his building at 5 rue de Luynes as having one of the six priezwinning facades in Paris for the year 1904.

Pradelle’s building looks typically Parisian, Haussmannian. Nothing makes it stand out from its neighbors, in a quiet part of the 7th arrondissement.

Pradelle’s inventiveness lies principally in his use of decoration, especially vegetal and floral motifs. The ironwork of the building door signals or echoes these motifs.

floral motif; "swastika" motif unfortunate in hindsight

29 av Rapp (Paris)

“It’s not likely that Paris will witness a proliferation of this kind of construction.”

These were some of the selection jury’s comments when it awarded a prize in 1901 to Jules Lavriotte for the façade of the apartment house at 29 avenue Rapp, in the 7th arrondissement of Paris.

Years ago, I had the good fortune to study art history, and the greater fortune to study this building. (Thank you, Martha Ward.) Befitting American students prone to afternoon somnolence, examination of the building focused on its entrance, most aptly described as labial, and at its sculpted door, with a phallic motif.

When I return to look at the building today, I see all of that, but I notice a lot more:

• Lavriotte plays with symmetry, or rather an absence of symmetry: the entry is off-center. A balcony on the third floor is centered, but the structure on either side of it is not; and examined vertically, one side of the facade has continuity, while the other has an interruption.
• Inside or outside? Lavriotte toys with facade viewers by alternating projections and indentations to the facade. The second, third, and fourth floors take flights of fancy, while floors above and below adhere to strict conventions.
• Rich art nouveau ornamentation is everywhere! As a repeat spectator, I’m especially drawn to the balcony on the third floor. There’s great attention to detail in the stonework, the iron grillings, ornamentation (with vegetal art nouveau themes) on the facade surface, and on the underside of the balcony, where there are colored ceremics, including a pair of cows.

entry

facade

balcony detail

Henri IV died in Paris on 14 May 1610, the victim of an assassin’s dagger.

In memory of the French king’s memory, wreaths were left at the place of his death, including by French president Nicolas Sarkozy.

Henri IV has always been a popular French king. In Paris, a grand statue of him, on horseback, stands at the tip of the Ile de la Cité, on the square du Vert-Galant. (The square’s name refers to Henri IV, who had a reputation for gallantry; books of his love letters are on the French best-seller lists … in 2010!)

To mark the 400th anniversary of the king’s death, a commemoration took place at the statue at nightfall. Paris mayor Bertrand Delanoë and culture minister Frédéric Mitterrand were in attendance, together with several hundred well-wishers, history enthusiasts, and royalists (who exclaimed, “Vive le roi!“).

Mitterrand spoke about Henri IV, his life and times. Henri IV was famous for his panache. The word originally designated plumes, a group of feathers placed in his helmet. The panache made the king visible to his troops, and in fighting the king told his supporters to follow his panache into battle. Today the expression means especially a confident style, as used for example by Cyrano de Bergerac. For Mitterrand, Henri IV’s white panache appears in the French flag today, between the colors of Paris, red and blue.

After the official remarks, a pyrotechnic show honored the fallen king. From 14 May through 14 July (Bastille Day), the equestrian statue of Henri IV will be lit by a display designed by Jean-Charles de Castelbajac. To my eyes, it features Henri IV will a light sabre, inspired by the Star Wars pictures.

Most Paris visitors know that the musée d’Orsay used to be a train station.

The same was true at the Bastille, where the Opéra stands today.

I’ve always found this building imposing, cold (I’ve sepia-toned the photo), and unwelcoming to opera-goers (the ornamental arch brings to this visitor’s mind Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey). But I’ve grown used to its presence, and have trouble imagining what sat in its place years ago.

The Gare de la Bastille served from 1859 to 1969. Its aspect was less monumental than the nearby Gare de Lyon, with which –if I’m reading old maps correctly– it was aligned. The masonry hints at the architecure of the nearby place des Vosges.

Elevated rail viaducts in Paris that were formerly used to reach the Gare de la Bastille have been converted into a lovely park, the promenade plantée, and suburban rails are now used by the RER A commuter line.