Looking Up!

Like a lot of people, when I go out I tend to find myself scurrying along, eager to get to where I am going and not particularly paying much attention to what I am passing. I'm more concerned with where I'm putting my feet, avoiding junk on the "trottoir", and trying not to bump into anyone! The other day though, as I was waiting for the light to change on rue Reaumur, I found myself gazing at the building next to ours, 97, rue Reaumur, built by the architects Jolival et Devillard in 1900. It includes not just offices, appartments, a cafe -- Le Sentier -- but also the entrance to the Sentier Metro station. Such an elegant building, and part of a new wave of architecture that was prevalent at the time, especially on the rue Reaumur, where the strict building rules of the Haussman era were being set aside to allow for highly decorative facades, a mixture of cast iron and stone materials, bulging roofs and oriel windows.

I was particularly struck that in 1900 the building was able to integrate the line 3 Metro station into its facade. And I had never looked up and appreciated the decorative heads pointing down to the entrance.

Curious to find more, and determined to "look up", I took a lovely stroll this quiet, sunny (!), Sunday morning to see what I've been missing. In the next block to us, at 116, rue Reaumur I found one of several buildings on the street designed by Albert Walwein (1851-1916) who was considered a master architect. Here, the entrance to the building is flanked by two big "telamon" figures, sculpted in the likeness of Hercules, holding up the plinth above, standing on lion heads and glowing in the unexpected sunshine.

Across the street, another Walwein building has two "carytides" (sculpted female figures) gazing back at the "telamons"!

Back on the even side of the street, no. 118 rue Reaumur built in 1900 by Joseph-Charles de Montarnal (1867-1947), shows the extent to which the Haussman rules were being abandoned. A mix of stone and cast iron with huge metal-encased windows that rise through three floors and run the entire width of the building, show a distinct Art Nouveau influence.

Moving off the busy rue Reaumur and wandering through the quiet back streets of the Sentier neighborhood. I found myself by the entrance to the Passage du Caire, with its three sphinx heads above and a frieze of Egyptian motifs above them.

I had seen the sphinx heads before, but what I had never noticed (didn't look high enough!), was another frieze, tucked immediately below the roof line with a row of animal and human images. (Click on the photograph and you'll see the detail.)




Nor had I ever noticed this sweet tiled mosaic of pyramids and camels on the very corner of the Place and the rue du Caire.

Coming back on the rue Clery, I was happy to see the "scissors building" still has its giant pair of metal scissors suspended on the outside. Founded in 1818, Hamon has been the principal supplier of scissors to the rag trade and the fashion world, although the shutters were closed on this Sunday morning, so the endless displays were not visible.

So instead, I took some time to study the ceramic "coins" attached to the walls, almost all of them images of Emperor Napoleon III, to whom Hamon apparently supplied his favorite Zéolithe razors!  (What in England would be called "by appointment....)

At the corner of rue Clery and rue du Poissonniere, up on a little ledge, stands a figure that has intrigued me for a long time. Is she an angel, or a goddess, is she to be worshipped or feared?

A side angle shows what might be wings, so an angel, or maybe it's a shield, perhaps a warrior goddess. Either way, I like her a lot, and hope she protects all who pass below, even if they don't look up!

One thing I do always look up at is the living wall on rue d'Aboukir, which since its planting about four years ago has become a veritable forest of greenery.

When you "look up" going down the rue des Petits-Carreaux leading into the rue Montorgeuil, you'll usually notice what I call "things that were". Today there's a popular Franco-Indian restaurant and take-out service at number 12, but at some earlier time there was a specialist "Gibier Volailles" (Game and Poultry) business.


Which is to say that as well as chicken, turkey, capons, duck and other more usual poultry products, they would also have offered pheasant, snipe, woodcock, etc...

...as well as wild boar and venison...

...and, of course hare and rabbit!! Our local butcher had hare in his shop over the holidays, and you can buy rabbit meat at the supermarket, but in the days of a speciality "gibier" shop, they probably would have been hung in rows, in full fur!

A couple of doors down from the former Game and Poultry shop, you can look up and see one of the most puzzling signs on the street. Some kind of reference to France's colonial plantation days perhaps, it shows a Planter in classic colonial dress being served coffee, as he sits on bags of coffee beans.

In all the years we've been in this neighborhood this mural has been kept clean and fresh looking, and yet we still have no idea what its origin is, what kind of business it might have been attached to. Today, it straddles a perfumerie and a photo shop!

Major PS!!  Since posting the above, I have discovered some real information about this sign. Made of ceramic tiles, it was installed in 1890 between the two windows on the first floor of the building for an establishment owned by coffee merchants.  They called their business "Au Planteur", and they offered all kinds of exotic provisions, including coffee. The "Aucune Succursale" means it was a one-of-a-kind shop, with no branch locations elsewhere. (No Starbucks chains in 1890!) In 1984, the sign was declared a National Historical Monument, which explains why it is always in such good condition. No further information as to how long it remained in business, but I'm so happy to know at least its origin and its purpose!

Further down the rue Montorgeuil is one of my favorite signs that hangs above what used to be our favorite pharmacy until it became part of a chain and is all garish and full of sales signs. But whoever the new owners are, they have had the goodness to keep this lovely wrought-iron image of the hippocratic oath symbol, above which stands an "alchemist" from earlier times, with his book of recipes and his mortar and pestle for whatever potions he was concocting!

Some images above the eye level clearly indicate the "specialité de la maison", as does this lovely snail atop the entrance to l'Escargot restaurant...

...but what about this one on the next corner? Is it some theatre mask figure indicating there might once have been a theatre here? Another mystery to unravel.

Finally at the bottom of the street, where the Sunday market was doing its usual weekly business in the shadow of Ste. Eustache, I looked up and noticed for the first time ever...

...what seems to be some kind of weather report that would let people know what to expect. It's missing several pieces, but #74 tells you that there's going to be "beaucoup de pluie" (lots of rain), #76 indicates variable weather, #77 says "beau temps" (beautiful weather, like today!) and #78 says that the beautiful weather is going to stay that way for the time being "beau temps fixé"!

All I can say is that I hope the latter one proves to be correct, at least for a few more days. We've been hibernating under such grey skies for so long, we've almost forgotten what sunshine is! Things would then definitely be "looking up"!

À bientôt!

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