Woven Wonders

Way out in the 13th Arrondissement, this imposing building lords it over its surroundings, and with good reason. Known as the Galerie des Gobelins, it provides the entrance into a world of weaving that goes back more than 400 years.

Chances are that any time you've visited a stately home, a chateau or a museum, and have admired a tapestry such as this one designed by François Dubois, which hung in the Tuileries Palace, it was made here, in the Ateliers de la Manufacture des Gobelins.

Originally founded as a dye works in the mid-15th century by a family named Gobelin, the business flourished, growing into a successful textile factory. It did not escape the eagle eye of Louis XIV, who, in 1662, had his man Colbert step in and buy the business, creating a royal tapestry works as well as a furniture workshop. It has remained under "national" patronage ever since.

Colbert brought in the royal painter, Charles le Brun to oversee the design and manufacture of tapestries and furnishings, chiefly for royal palaces, residences and state buildings.  Using both high and low warp looms, the workshops employed over 250 artisans, who lived with their families within the Gobelins "compound". Many of these buildings survive today, including Le Brun's own residence.

For almost thirty years, under le Brun, the Gobelins factory produced an astonishing array of exquisite tapestries, upholstery and furniture in a richly ornate style. This one, attributed to a design by le Brun himself, honored a visit by the King (on the upper left, in red), Colbert, and the King's younger brother Philippe, to the factory, with the workers scurrying around to present their latest works. Given the detail and complex patterns of color, a worker could spend many years working on one tapestry. The King himself would have been considerably older by the time this one was finished! This is still true today. During our tour of the atelier buildings, we met a weaver -- a man in his early 30s -- who is currently working on a piece from an 18th century design. Our guide told us that it would take him ten years to complete it!!

 

Apart from a brief closure at the end of the 17th century and a similar interruption during the French Revolution, the Gobelins factory has continued to produce tapestries of the highest standards all the way to the present time. The Savonnerie Carpet Factory was incorporated into the business in the mid 19th century.

Today, the ateliers fall under the auspices of the French Ministry of Culture, who, just like le Brun and those who followed him, still seek and train artisans to make new tapestries and carpets, as well as restore old ones. Making sure this great French tradition doesn't die out.  Our tour took us into the Savonnerie carpet atelier, where I managed to snap this one illegal photo, before being chastised by our guide! As you see, she is raising her hand, "mais non, Madame, pas de photos!" (I excused myself meekly.)

Today's weavers are recruited from as early as high school, even sometimes before graduation, to begin their training. No formal art school is required, just a passion for colors and the materials. Here this team of mostly young women is working on an enormous carpet of a seascape pattern, designed by a contemporary French artist. Working on the right side of the high warp loom, the workers periodically separate the strings and peer intently through to the back, where mirrors display the reverse side. Again, this project will take some years to complete, even with a team such as this.  

We asked about working conditions, thinking that repetitive stress syndrome must be a problem. And it is. Breaks are frequent and workers are not required to be there every day. They might work two out of five days. In these days of "worker protections", the unions keep a close eye on everything!

Our tour guide described the world of weaving in great detail, giving us much new vocabulary to ponder in French and, occasionally, English -- "heddle" anyone?! Our heads were spinning, but before leaving, we wanted to see the galleries in the main front building.  Here, temporary exhibitions rotate through the halls. Currently, a group of 31 contemporary artists have created a series of installations, combining old, traditional tapestries and furnishings with their own innovations. 

We were particularly taken with this one, titled Labyrinthe de la mémoire.  If you look carefully, you'll see a free-standing set of mirrors, nine panels in all, placed in the center of the room in an octagon shape. The walls are covered with stunning tapestries that are reflected in the mirrors, along with the floor and baseboards.

Stepping inside the structure, we found ourselves standing on a mirrored floor, looking out through glass and mirrors at the tapestries, seen through seemingly random sets of words and phrases printed on the mirrored glass walls.

It made for a dazzling and dizzying world of light and color. We tried to decode the theme, but all we could come up with was that it must have something to do with the eternal French question about "the meaning of life"... or, perhaps, the meaning of "heddle"!



À bientôt!

The Smoking Truck

You may have been reading about the glacial Siberian air mass that has been blanketing most of Europe for the past couple of weeks. The thermometer hovers during the day at 18F or lower. My poor little geraniums have just about given up the ghost...

...and by the time I bundle and muffle myself up to go out, I am barely recognizable!

Matthew is suffering severe camp fever from not being able to go out on his daily bicycle ride to the Bois de Boulogne. He amused himself this past Sunday by documenting our deserted snowy neighborhood.

Scurrying past La Madeleine on Tuesday and turning down the
side street, I was, therefore, surprised to come upon a group of people lining up in the bitter cold by a truck!

Not just any old truck, however, but the new "hot" thing in the food world here: "Le Camion qui Fume" (The Smoking Truck)!

Yes, it's a food truck in a country that has never embraced the mobile food movement that you find in American cities. There are trucks in fixed locations that serve crèpes and waffles, but this one moves around the city, roving from site to site. On Tuesdays and Fridays, it is alongside La Madeleine.

Across the street, any number of warm, indoor eateries promote themselves, from the deluxe Hediard with its fancy teas and gift hampers...

...to the Maison de la Truffe...

...or the popular chain wine bar/café, L'Ecluse. Here one could enjoy a leisurely meal in a warm, comfortable atmosphere, savoring each dish as one is supposed to in France.

Instead, these customers have something very different and very specific on their mind, and on their tastebuds...

A good, old-fashioned American-style hamburger! It turns out a really good authentic burger is hard to find here. They are listed on most menus, but the quality leaves much to be desired. Now, you might ask why, when you're in Paris - world capital of food - would you want to eat a hamburger? Well, it turns out a lot of people do!

The brainchild of Kristin Frederick, a Californian who trained at the École Supérieure de Cuisine Française, the operation began last November.

This young woman, who took my order, explained that they began in the winter deliberately, so they could break themselves in slowly.

But with a menu like this, it's been anything but slow! Even the French, it turns out, have been waiting for a real American burger. The truck arrives at 11 am and stays until 2 pm, closing up earlier if they run out of burgers. At other sites they operate until 11 pm. Business has been so phenomenal they are already negotiating to buy a second truck.

The burgers are assembled by the all American crew in batches of ten. First the bottom buns are buttered...

... mayonnaise and salad stuff is added before the burger itself is put in place. Three different cuts of ground beef are mixed together, with extra fat added. (After all, for a real burger, you need about 20% fat!).

The top bun is added, the whole thing is wrapped in wax paper and popped into a nice crisp bag...

...and handed over to the lucky customer, with a cheerful "bon appetit" each time!

Meanwhile, the rest of us continued to wait, huddled together, stamping our feet, blowing into our gloves. Finally (40 minutes after I placed the order!) my number came up! I popped the bag into my tote bag and headed for home.

After thawing out my fingers and feet, I was ready to dive in, and I have to say it was really delicious! An artisanal bread bun that had just the right amount of heft to it, fresh salad layers, and a perfectly cooked and extremely tasty burger. The fries were gone in no time flat. Yum!! It was right up there with the best that Bill's on Clement Street in San Francisco offers -- the highest burger compliment!

À bientôt!

Back to School!

I've set myself a goal during our time in Paris this year:  that I will work to improve my fractured French grammar. I speak and read the language quite well, can certainly get myself around the city, can navigate the intricacies and rituals of daily life here, and can even hold my own at French dinner parties - up until about 10:30 pm or so, that is, when I inevitably "hit the wall". But, oh, the grammar, the tenses, the prepositions, and - especially - the dreaded subjunctive! They seem to have all vanished from my brain since my high school days. Mother Anselm, the Spanish nun who taught me French, would turn in her grave if she could hear me.

Luckily, a little online research  produced Lutèce Langue at 23 rue Sébastopol in the 1st arrondissement. I took a deep breath and enrolled for two weeks, Monday to Friday, for an hour and half each day. After completing a test online in French (sans dictionnaire), and after being interviewed on the telephone to find my "level", and after giving them my Carte Bleue number for some Euros, I was accepted and asked to come Monday of this week at 10:45 am.

The offices are small and cramped, but staffed with cheerful, friendly people. I was quickly directed to a very small classroom #3, where Monsieur Denis welcomed me.

With M. Denis seated by the whiteboard, and three classmates from (from right to left) the United Kingdom, Manhattan and Vienna, we are quite international. A very pleasant group, and nice and small! No place to hide!

Homework assignments come almost every day from this imposing looking text book, to re-emphasize topics covered in class.  The program is conducted entirely in French, seems well structured, and so far -- five days in -- I do believe some of it is sinking in!

I quickly discovered that the easiest way to get to school is to walk, so every morning I head down rue Montorgeuil, where at this time of year the cafés all have their winter coats on -- thick plastic walls to shield customers from the currently icy, sub-freezing temperatures (19 degrees F. at 10 am today), with heaters that blast  hot air down onto your back.

And where the other day I passed this shocking sight of the sapeurs-pompiers mopping up one of our favorite bistros on the street, Le Petit Carreaux, after a kitchen fire. They will, alas, be closed for a while...

Naturally, there are several dress shops along the way, and I am beginning to notice a distinct trend toward RED as the upcoming seasonal color of choice -- perhaps in response to the growing possibility of François Hollande and his Socialist Party winning the national elections, which take place here beginning in April?

At the bottom of rue Montorgeuil, I cross over rue Turbigo, climb some steps and get onto rue Rambuteau, which forms one of the boundary streets of the dreaded Parisian eyesore, Forum des Halles. But there's good news! After 50+ years of living with this ugly monument to 60's architecture (built under the regime of President Pompidou), the City of Paris has decided to tear it down and "try again"!

Of course, nothing will recapture architect Victor Baltard's stunning 1863 steel pavilions, which covered the same area and kept alive the tradition of food markets in this central Paris neighborhood, going all the way back to the 12th century.

For over 100 years, these buildings were packed with butchers, fishmongers, fruit and vegetable stalls, cheese stalls, bakeries, etc. etc.

Starting in the dark, early hours of the morning, thousands of tons of meat, fish and produce arrived here, were put on display and sold to eager Parisians.

Eventually, the streets around the market became so congested, as the city population grew, that the decision was taken to tear down Les Halles and move the market out to Rungis, where it has now been since the late 1960s. I remember being in Paris with Matthew in 1972 and driving by the last remnants of Baltard's structures. Sadly, I never saw it in its heyday.

President Pompidou replaced it with a new structure that, he promised, would provide gardens and a carousel for children, and a multi-level subterranean mall that would be a shopping mecca for Parisians and visitors alike. Just like this photo purports to show. At the same time, the vast transit hub, Châtelet-Les Halles was built even further underground. Alas, today, there is no carousel, the gardens are unkempt and popular only with drug dealers, and the shopping mall is truly a vista from hell!

So, most people think it's a good thing the place is being torn down, and certainly it's fun to walk by there every morning and watch the progress!

I've been just amazed at the size of this crane that towers over the other, smaller ones...



...and also dwarfs the substantial stack of portable, temporary offices that have gone up to house all aspects of the construction.

Turning right onto rue Pierre Lescot, I love to peer through the grating at the growing piles of rubble.

Meanwhile, as if to keep our eyes looking forward, there are many billboards posted that show how the "new" Les Halles will transform this space with a swooping, open air roof, new gardens and playgrounds, new trees, etc.

There even seems to be some sort of plan to open up the underground mall so that daylight will bathe the lower depths! Now that would really be an improvement.

One thing's for sure: the venerable Église Ste.-Eustache that stands (both figuratively and in reality) above this site will always continue to hold the prize for steadfastness and dignity in the neighborhood!

Meanwhile, the grammar continues: With the words "après" and "avant", when to use the infintif passé and when to use the infinitif. I leave you with two options: Après avoir fini ce blog, j'ai continué mes devoirs. Or: Avant de continuer mes devoirs, j'ai fini ce blog.



À bientôt!