Beauty and the Beast

One of our favorite "small" museums in Paris is the Musée Jacquemart-André, housed in a sumptuous "Belle Epoque" mansion, completed in 1875 on the fashionable Boulevard Haussmann for the wealthy banker, Edouard André. Together with his wife, Nélie Jacquemart, who was a well known society portrait painter, they travelled the world, amassing a large collection of paintings, drawings, sculptures, furnishings and decorative arts. Their collection formed an elegant backdrop to the many lavish soirées they hosted for their friends in the Parisian society. Following the death of Nélie in 1912, the entire collection and the mansion were bequeathed to the Institut de France, with the proviso that it become a museum for everyone to appreciate what they had been so passionate about.

Today, as well as the permanent collection, temporary exhibitions offer a chance to visit this magnificent home, and to enjoy a broad selection of artists and works. Our recent visit introduced us to a painter we neither of us knew: Vilhelm Hammershoi (1864-1916), billed as "the master of Danish painting."

 Born into a well-to-do family in Copenhagen, Hammershoi studied drawing as a young child and later attended the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts. He married his best friend's sister, Ida Ilsted, who features in many of his paintings.

Hammershoi's work has been described as "poetic", "subdued", "muted". He used a limited palette of greys, desaturated yellows, greens and black. Here, his fiancée Ida sits, somberly and soberly, against a plain background.

Hammershoi admired the American painter, James Whistler enormously. As an homage to him, he made a portrait of his own mother, Frederikke, that mirrors almost exactly Whistler's famous painting of his mother!

 

In this signature painting from 1895, "Trois Jeunes Femmes",  Hammershoi again shows Ida, this time with her two sisters-in-law. They sit so close to each other, their knees almost touching, and yet it's as though each is lost in their own world, estranged somehow. "The Poetry of Silence" is another descriptor that has been given to Hammershoi's works.

Some art lovers consider this "Cinq Portraits" to be Hammershoi's masterpiece. First of all, it's very large!  The five gentlemen were all good friends of the artist, and yet, like the the portrait of the three young women, none of them is interacting with the other. They're in their own "silent", austere world.

Even with landscapes, Hammershoi's work is spare and muted. A closer look at this painting though--showing a country scene in Zeeland--reveals a soft rythmn of three horizontal rolling hills, three horizontal stands of trees, and rows of horizontal clouds drifting back to infinity. It's peaceful, and quiet!

 

Much of Hammershoi's work focuses on interiors, simple reflections of everyday life. A woman standing near a corner of a dining room. Almost always, if there is a figure in the painting, we do not see the face. They're atmospheric, enigmatic, full of tension almost.

Sometimes these interiors are devoid of any people, this one shows just a beautiful velvet couch with two side chairs, a painting on the wall, and a shaft of brilliant sunlight to highlight the grey wall.

The painting I went back to a few times was this 1906 portrait of Ida. As usual, it's from the rear, but this time she is seated, slightly leaning back into the chair, some wisps of hair escaping from her chignon. There's no estrangement, no tension, just a soft quietness. 

Vilhelm Hammershoi died in 1916. He had been admired and celebrated during his life, not just in Scandinavia but in Europe, England and America. After his death, though, he was largely forgotten until 1990, when interest in his works found new audiences. Judging by the number of people at the Jacquemart-André Museum, he won't be forgotten again any time soon.

Another favorite small museum is the Musée du Luxembourg adjoining the delightful Luxembourg Gardens. Dating back to 1750, when it was part of the Luxembourg Palace, it was the first museum in France to open its doors to the public. In 1884 it became Paris' first museum of contemporary art, moving into its current building which was the former Palace orangery. 

As a big contrast to the muted, melancholic paintings of Vilhelm Hammershoi, the current exhibition at the Luxembourg Museum is a celebration of color, joy, family, warmth: "Les Nabis et le Décor". The Nabis were a group of young artists -- Bonnard, Vuillard, Maurice Denis, Paul Sérusier, and others -- whose ambition was to create a new art, to give painting an essentially decorative role. They took inspiration from the flat and colorful images of Japanese prints from the late 19th century to create their own original style. The word "Nabi" means "prophets" in both Hebrew and Arabic.

Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947), was among the first in the group to associate feminine figures with scenes of nature and gardens. His "Le Grand Jardin" depicts a gentle family scene with children collecting apples, sheep and chickens milling around, another child running out of frame, against a backdrop of luxuriant green growth. The bright colors are laid flat with no depth to the perspective, attesting to Bonnard's nickname, "le Nabi très japonard", so-called because of his passion for Japanese decorative art. 

Edouard Vuillard (1868-1940), known as "le Nabi zouave" because of his sharp, pointed military beard, not only placed women in nature, but memorably captured interior scenes of women going about their daily lives. Commissioned in 1896 by the Parisian Doctor Henri Vasquez to produce a series of four decorative panels for his library, Vuillard created "Personnages dans un interior", indoor scenes saturated with bright colors and patterns that echo some of the "mille-fleurs" tapestries of the late middle ages. Between the wallpaper, the rugs, the cushions and the upholstery, the women themselves are almost completely absorbed into the decor!

Two years earlier, Vuillard painted "Les Marronniers", a view of chestnut trees growing in a square. By a strange coincidence, we have a French friend who lives in Vuillard's old apartment on the Place Adolphe Max, up near La Place Clichy.  I have often admired the view from his windows. The painting label didn't say where this scene was, but I like to think it was painted from our friend Philippe's living room windows!

A big supporter of the Nabis was the German-French Parisian art dealer, Siegfried Bing. His love of Japanese art and his Maison de l'Art Nouveau provided all kinds of openings for Nabi artists. Paul Ranson (1861-1909) undertook a commission for a series of seven panels for Mr. Bing's dining room. Ranson chose themes showing women's outdoor work.  This panel, titled "Cinq Femmes à la récolte", shows a group of women busy with their harvest. It's a landscape with soft lines, a simple chromatic scale and a lyrical rhythmic treatment of the figures. Paul Ranson was known as the Nabi even more "japonard" than Bonnard!

And then there was Paul Sérusier (1864-1927), "le Nabi à la barbe rutilante", the Nabi with the red beard! The Japanese influence on him is paramount in this panel, part of a series created for his friend Georges Lacombe's chateau near Alençon. Titled "Femmes à la source", it also reflects his interest in symbolic subjects. He was inspired by the theme of the forest, a place of magic rites, where a procession of women come down to the source of the water that feeds the well at the top, the two spaces lit by the same golden light.

Another Nabi who searched for a higher principle was Maurice Denis (1870-1943). He placed his Christian faith squarely in the centre of his work. In 1904, he received a commission for a set of decorative panels to be installed in the music salon of the Intendant of the Imperial Music Theatre of Wiesbaden, Kurt von Mutzenbecher. Denis created this preparatory set of studies which were shown at the exhibition in the form of a folding screen. The four panels represent music, dances and sacred songs in a manner worthy of adorning any place of worship.

At the same time, Denis was also active in extending his decorative art to creating wallpaper. When I first looked at this sample, I thought I was looking at caterpillars! A closer look reveals they are trains, puffing out pink smoke against a swirly pink striped background. Wallpaper for a child's bedroom perhaps. I could imagine drifting off to a deep sleep full of dreams of exciting voyages!


So much for "beauty".  Now, alas, I need to report on the "Beast" part of this blogpost. Two weekends ago, the Gilet Jaunes (the yellow vests) had their weekly Saturday demonstration against the government. This time, they went down the Champs Elysées. Unfortunately, what began four months ago as a legitimate demonstration by people who are genuinely hurting due to government policies, has now devolved into being taken over by groups who call themselves "les casseurs" (the breakers), whose sole aim is to destroy whatever they can. After smashing windows, burning newspaper kiosks, burning awnings and the interior of Le Fouquet Restaurant on the Champs-Elysées, a group of them came over, late in the day, to our neighborhood.

They swaggered down our beloved rue Montorgeuil, swinging sledgehammers, smashing ATM machines...

...our local, newly refurbished, excellent branch of the Marché U supermarket...

...and they, of course, also included bashing the windows of the newly installed MacDonald's that has opened on the corner of rue Reaumur since our last visit. None of us is happy to have a MacDo in our neighborhood, but none of us thinks it's okay to smash their windows. It's a pretty ugly reflection of the challenges facing the government.

And there's something else that's new -- a gazillion of these electric scooters ("trotinettes").  They're everywhere you look. You take out a subscription, then you can pick one up wherever you see one, ride it to where you want to go, and then leave it on the sidewalk. At least this one is propped against a building. Most of them just lie on the sidewalk, giving us poor pedestrians one more potential hazard to navigate, along with people texting or talking on their phones, not looking where they're going!! Not to mention that many of the riders of these "trotinettes" actually ride them ON the sidewalk!

Happily, at the end of the day, we always have this wonderful view to come home to, with Ste. Eustache still front and center, and, in the distance, the noble dome of the Pantheon.

And, of course, there are also signs of spring wherever you look. This luscious magnolia tree caught my eye, over at the Luxembourg Gardens.

À bientôt!

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Lights, Camera, Action!

The symbol of the crowing rooster standing on top of the world has been synonymous for over a hundred and twenty years with...movies and newsreels! Founded by four brothers as the Société Pathé Frères in 1896, it quickly grew to be the world's largest film equipment and production company as well as a major producer of phonograph players and records.

Starting with phonographs, the company moved into the opportunities offered by the fledgling motion picture industry. In 1907, the brothers, spearheaded by the driving force of the eldest, Charles Pathé, acquired the Lumière Brothers' patents and went to work designing a new studio camera as well as making their own film stock.

In 1908, Pathé invented the newsreel, shown in theatres before the main film began. The crowing rooster began each reel. With a couple of breaks in production, the Pathé news division produced newsreels all the way from 1910 to the 1970s, when television news took over.

Expanding their brand throughout the world, and dominating the market in motion picture cameras and projectors, at one point, 60% of all films were shot with Pathé equipment. The brothers had truly conquered the world!

Alas, after many decades of success, the fortunes of the company began to falter, and by 1929 it had passed into the hands of another owner, followed by another, and another. Financial difficulties and bankruptcies were followed by new owners and new challenges as the company diversified into theatre ownership and television production.  Finally, in 1990, a French conglomerate called "Chargeurs", led by the French business magnate and film producer Jérôme Seydoux, bought the company and changed their own company name to Pathé.

All of which brings us to this building on the rue des Gobelins in the 13th arrondissement, just a few steps from the famous Gobelin tapestry factory. In 2006, the Fondation Jérôme Seydoux-Pathé  bought this building to house the tens of thousands of artifacts, equipment, and documents that make up the history of Pathé (the actual Pathé films are archived elsewhere). Originally a 19th century music hall theatre, then one of Paris' first cinemas, the building's facade was deemed of historical significance and could not be altered, because Auguste Rodin, as a very young man, had been commissioned to sculpt the figures at the top of each column.  The rest of the building behind the facade, though, was about to undergo a radical transformation.

The celebrated architect, Renzo Piano, was selected to undertake this transformation, no easy task given the narrow confines of the building footprint, and the extremely close proximity of the neighboring apartment buildings. And the front facade had to stay the same. An early sketch of his shows his intriguing mind at work, however.

 

This side-view schematic gives a glimpse of what was to come. Originally, the back part of the lot was completely taken up with the cinema theatre itself which abutted the walls of the building behind. Piano's design reduces the building's footprint and reclaims a substantial amount of "open" space, with birch trees and a "vinca" ground cover giving light and air. The floors go from a basement screening room to a ground floor gallery space for temporary exhibitions, a first floor permanent display of artifacts, followed by two floors of document archives, and at the very top office space for staff.

And the building shape?  To me, its ovoid, curved shape took on an almost egg-like appearance -- perhaps symbolizing the fact that the archival contents of the building represent the history and legacy of the "birth" of cinema here in France. (Matthew quickly reminded me that roosters don't lay eggs!)

Here, with construction well underway, you can see the underlying framework struts anchored on just a few supports, clad with glass panels on the upper floors, and then -- on the outside -- the whole structure is covered with 5000 perforated aluminum louvers.

It has been dubbed by some as a "glass, armadillo-shaped dome"! On the day we visited -- a grey rainy day last week -- the birch trees stood bare, with just a bird's nest on the upper left tree sending a signal that spring would some day arrive. During daytime, the outer tiles provide privacy to those working within...

...but at night when the lights are on, the whole building emits a soft, warm presence like some giant glow worm sheltering the neighborhood.

The most dramatic way to experience the building, though, is when the elevator stops at the top floor and you step out into a space that is flooded on all sides by overwhelming light. The perforated aluminum louvers disappear and you are left with the feeling that you are floating above the city, with the adjacent buildings "shimmering" through the wooden struts.

Looking down the length of this work space and beyond, you have the impression of being under a ship's hull. In fact, Renzo Piano was born in the Italian port city of Genoa. Its extensive world of ship yards and boat building clearly had an influence.

Half a floor down from the very top, a meeting room takes the "prow" position of Piano's vessel.

You would be forgiven for thinking that the building itself would overwhelm whatever it contained. Happily, that is not so. The day we were there, we were treated to an extensive exhibition of movie posters by the Brazilian artist, Cândido de Faria. 

One of the first artists to design posters for the cinema, he created hundreds of beautiful, enticing advertisements for the Pathé brothers, many of which were on display.

Meanwhile the first floor gallery, which stretches the length of the building, houses the Foundation's permanent exhibition of 500 cameras, projectors, film re-wind machines, film developing machines, lantern slide projectors, etc., dating from 1896 all the way to the 1980s. 

An early phonograph machine reminded us that Charles Pathé's original interest was in phonographs and record production before he moved on to the world of cinema.

I loved the simplicity of this film re-wind machine, and I'm thinking it was also a footage counter.

Believe it or not, Matthew has this exact same "pip-of-a-rig" Baby Pathé projector from 1925 in his office in Inverness. He found it at a flea market in the States many years ago.

This 1912 projector, with its case behind it, looks almost like my old Singer sewing machine, and, indeed, sewing machine covers to this day look exactly like the "coffret" for this projector. 

If you had a Pathé Baby camera and projector, you could also develop your own film, which would have been 9.5 mm at that time.

 One whole corner of the room was taken up with early cameras and tripods. You can just picture all those newsreel cameramen with their cloth caps, cranking away as they recorded the latest "hot news"!

Our final stop was the "state of the art" screening room in the lower level, named the "Salle Charles Pathé" in honor of the founder. Principally dedicated to silent movies (of the 10,000 films in the Pathé catalogue, 9000 are silent films), screenings are regularly scheduled, accompanied always by a pianist.

Our group was treated to a screening of a 1917 German film, "Doctor Hart's Journal", a classic silent movie drama. The piano accompaniment (by a lovely young woman) followed every frame as we were swept along through brutal WWI trench warfare, badly wounded soldiers, primitive field hospitals with the noble Dr. Hart doing his best to repair the wounded, heart-breaking longings from the young heroine, and a final happy ending. The movie lasted 65 minutes and the pianist did not break off once during that time.  A great way to end our tour of this remarkable building and its beautifully preserved artifacts.

But it is now time for me to "break off" the blog for this year. We are scheduled to fly home next week, although that is currently in the hands of Air France which is in the midst of rolling strikes. We have our fingers crossed, but meanwhile, thanks as always for following along, for writing comments, sending emails, etc. As they say in the movie business:

"IT'S A WRAP"

Au Revoir!

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