FAUBOURG SAINT-ANTOINE

Playing my Map Game before a trip to Paris, I was thrilled to draw L7. Faubourg Saint-Antoine is an area I first explored 37 years ago, during Rick’s first trip to France. Since he worked in the furniture industry, I thought it would be fun and interesting to stroll through the Paris neighborhood historically associated with menuisiers and ébénistes.

Passage du Chantier, the last vestige of the flourishing wood and furniture trade.

Chairs in various stages of construction, or renovation…

Private courtyard in passage du Chantier

For several centuries workers in this area outside the walls of Paris were exempt from taxes. Additionally, the proximity of the Seine meant that craftsmen had access to the wood supply coming into the capital. Already striving during the Middle Ages, Faubourg Saint-Antoine experienced its golden age during the XVII and XVIII centuries: its reputation in arts décoratifs was so well established that woodworkers, cabinet makers, upholsterers, and other artisans flocked from Holland and Germany to set up shop here.

Cour du Bel Air

Carriage entrance from rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine to cour des Bourguignons

Cour des Bourguignons. Charles-Auguste Hollande, a wood trader, had the two wings built between 1862 and 1866. They were rented to Maison Krieger and then to Henri Racault; both were furniture manufacturers who employed hundreds of artisans and wood workers.

The iron and glass structure was added in 1868, along with the 105’ brick chimney that topped a steam engine.

On both sides of rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine, between Bastille and hôpital Saint-Antoine, craftsmen opened up courtyards and passages: ateliers occupied the first floor while the upper levels were used for housing. More than 200 workshops were registered in the XVII century, all involved in wood and complementary activities such as varnishing, ironwork, textiles, ceramics, porcelain, marble, wallpaper, etc. Courtyards were like mini “villages” that composed a high-density community of people with related interests.

Floral shop at the corner of avenue Ledru-Rollin. Love the name.

Square Trousseau just off the busy street. Haussmannian buildings on the other three sides. Classic music kiosk and playground for children. A locals’ favorite.

Blé Sucré, a well-known boulangerie-pâtisserie across from square Trousseau. Perhaps the best croissants in Paris…

Like most areas in the city, this quartier has gone through substantial transformations since my first visit in the early 80s. Lifestyle changes (hello, Ikea) and the availability of inexpensive furniture from Asia ushered the decline of artisanal activities that had flourished since medieval times.

Passage Saint-Bernard. Co-working and IT consulting have replaced the traditional activities. Nice mur végétal and an inviting rooftop terrace.

The mosaic rhinoceros on passage Raush. Just a few years ago, there were seven other wild animals on the arcades of this building. I guess they all managed to escape their cages!

East Mamma trattoria at passage de la Main d’Or. If Mamma is around, hipsters can’t be too far away…

Cour de l’Ours

Ebénisterie Straure in cour de l’Ours. The santon of a woodworker sits in the window of the atelier.

Staircases open to the courtyards and lead to the upper (residential) levels

Some staircases have not been “gentrified” yet…

Thankfully, urban planners had the good idea to protect the courtyards and buildings of the area. Some have been lovingly renovated and still house a few furniture makers and restorers. Designers, architects, galleries, home decor shops round up the offering. So far, the gentrification efforts are progressing at a much slower pace than in the neighboring Marais or the area south of Pigalle. I feel le faubourg du meuble has not lost its soul and, at least for now, manages to retain some of its original population.

Cour des Trois Frères

Cour des Shadoks (their creator Jacques Rouxel lived here)

Two Shadoks! These cartoon birds appeared on French TV in 1968. They were absurdly stupid and I loved them.

This could be your lunch break area if you worked in the cour des Shadoks

Rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine straddles the 11th and 12th arrondissements (odd numbers on the 11th side, even on the 12th.) There is no significant monument or museum, which means the street is virtually free of tourists. That’s a good thing. If you like to stroll without an agenda, this is the perfect place to explore. You hardly need a map: start from Bastille and walk into every passage, courtyard, and porte cochère that’s open on the even side. When you reach rue de Citeaux, cross the street and repeat on the other side. Make sure to check the section of rue de Charonne up to avenue Ledru-Rollin: lots of gems there, too!

Passage Lhomme, off rue de Charonne

Passage Lhomme

Passage Lhomme. As you explore the neighborhood, you’ll see a lot of signage that evoke its original activities.

Cour Jacques Viguès; a little more “monumental” than most.

Cour Jacques Viguès

Floral shop tucked in a courtyard

Cour du Panier Fleuri. Where the floral shop should be…

Cour Damoye, a peaceful retreat just one block from place de la Bastille.

Perhaps you’ll find your ideal chair in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. This one is still “in progress…”

Vocabulary
Le menuisier: woodworker
L’ébéniste (m): cabinet maker
L’atelier (m): workshop
Le quartier: neighborhood
Le faubourg du meuble: furniture district
La porte cochère: carriage entrance

CHASSE-ROUES

I had seen them forever. They were part of the scenery but, quite honestly, I never paid attention to them while I roamed the streets of Paris as a student.

The former Banque de France building on place du Général Catroux

Hôtel particulier d’Almeyras, rue des Francs-Bourgeois

When my sister relocated from the banlieue to southern France seventeen years ago, I had no choice but to look for places to stay in Paris proper: hotels at first, apartments or Airbnb later on if the trip lasted more than four days. In retrospect, it was a blessing in disguise: spending more time in the capital, especially at night, gave me more opportunities to take note of architectural details instead of just rushing to the next appointment.

Rue Réaumur

Courtyard entrance, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré

Short chasse-roues, tall caryatids on boulevard Saint-Germain

A bit of good advice when strolling in Paris is to look en haut: roofs, balconies, mascarons, the Eiffel Tower silhouette, a glimpse of Montmartre provide endless excitement. Another good suggestion is to look en bas and not just because Fifi might have left a petit cadeau for you on the trottoir. Throughout the city, I found the old doors enchanting and started to take an inordinate amount of photos to document their variety of style, color, and hardware.

Entrance to Monnaie de Paris, quai de Conti

Courtyard entrance in the 12th arrondissement

Going through my pictures, I noticed that many doors were flanked by low structures made of stone or metal. I had no idea what they were. Research ensued. Pretty soon I was not only photographing doors but also chasse-roues.

Old stone chasse-roue on place des Vosges; the example on the left is reinforced with a wide metal band.

A lonely stone chasse-roue on rue de Turenne

A fancier stone chasse-roue on rue François Miron.

Chasse-roues are not a new invention. They might not be as old as the wheel itself but, apparently, they could be found in antique times as soon as horse-drawn carriages were used. Their primary function was to protect the corner of a wall or a door: wheels and wheel hubs could easily scrape and dig into stone or wood.

A simple metal arc

The “boule” design

Hypotenuse…

Classic design on rue Custine

Another old design on rue de Charonne

Amazing what a good coat of paint will do! Blue on Blue, rue de Cambrai

Looking good on Blvd de Courcelles

You will find chasse-roues in every neighborhood of the city. They come in many shapes and two main materials. Stone was favored in medieval and Renaissance times but many different cast-iron designs were installed during the Haussmannian transformation of Paris.

Lion and Griffin

Rue du Faubourg -Saint-Antoine

Conic

Double snail, boulevard de Courcelles

Minimalist on Ile Saint-Louis

When automobiles replaced fiacres, chasse-roues did not serve a purpose anymore. In fact, they became a bit indésirables but they were unusually difficult to remove: most of them were left in situ. Which suits me just fine. We can all admire vestiges of another time and briefly transport ourselves to the 18th century. Just imagine a capricious horse hauling a gilded carrosse, the right back wheel hitting the guard stone, and someone shouting “sacrebleu” while the occupants readjust their fancy wigs…

Color coordination, rue de Trévise

Rue Tronchet. where Kim Kardashian was robbed. Chasse-roues cannot prevent all damages…

Ancient and worn out, rue Vieille-du-Temple

You may also enjoy reading about door knockers, bistro chairs, and shutters.

Vocabulary

Le chasse-roue: guard stone
La banlieue: the suburbs
En haut: up
Le mascaron: stone figurehead
En bas: down
Le petit cadeau: small gift
Le trottoir: sidewalk
Le chasse-roue: guard stone
Le fiacre: horse-drawn carriage for hire
Indesirable: undesirable, unwelcome
Le carrosse: a fancy horse-drawn carriage, completely enclosed

THE GETAWAY

Rick served his sentence and was released from jail a week before Christmas. He didn’t look worse for the wear. It was only a three-month stint. He got some education and a couple of free meals.

Enter at your own peril…

Rick moved to France with a visa long séjour, a 12-month visa that is granted to family members of a French citizen (that would be moi.) The requirements to get the visa renewed are two-fold: show a basic understanding of French and attend a couple of classes of instruction civique. After an initial evaluation at the Immigration Office in Toulouse, he was prescribed 100 hours of French.

An imposing, massive stone façade

We drove to Cahors for the civics classes, a full day in November, another one in December. He was afforded a personal English translator: he happened to be the only English speaker… He also received meal vouchers and had lunch with his interpreter while I explored la vieille ville (yes, you can expect future posts on Cahors.) Luckily, the language classes were scheduled in Gourdon. The program called for a semi-immersion where Rick spent 7 hours every Wednesday in a classroom. It turned out to take place in an exceptional setting: la Maison du Roy i.e. the King’s House.

This is the King’s House. Consider yourself warned…

During the French monarchy, la Maison du Roy used to be the city jail. The archives do not list any notable prisoner and we’re left to assume that jail only housed drunkards and chicken thieves.

Peekaboo!

Built inside the fortified city, la Maison du Roy shares its southern wall with the old ramparts that were a defensive barrier against potential invaders: these stone walls are about 6 feet wide! Interestingly enough, the now-defunct courthouse shared that wall –and a door, for the sake of convenience– with the old jail. In spite of their restoration, the window openings on the northern side hint at what a massive structure it really is.

Window with a view

The view from the second story windows showcases the Saint-Pierre church (14th century) up the hill. In the (very) old days, it would have afforded a nice view on the medieval castle that was destroyed by the English at the end of the 100-year war.

View without a window

Flanked by the Maison des Jeunes et de la Culture and by the city library, la Maison du Roy now houses a few rooms available for rent (meetings, conferences, etc.) And perhaps an old jail for students who don’t pass their French language test…

The jail keeper, perhaps? Watchful kitty across the square.

Vocabulary
Le long séjour: long stay
Moi: me
L’instruction civique (f): civics class
La vieille ville: old town
Le rampart: fortified wall

CENT ANS

My grandfather never told me about La Grande Guerre. I was merely eight-years-old when he died and my memories of him gravitate toward the joyous moments shared with a doting grandpa: plucking cagouilles from the bushes behind his house in Royan, watching him prepare his collapsible wired nets before heading to the creek to catch crayfish, or uncovering the Easter eggs that he hid among the vegetables of his meticulously kept potager.

When the Ordre de Mobilisation Générale was posted at the mairie on August 1st, 1914 he was a little bit too young to be sent to the front. With 800,000 French soldiers in active duty, three million reservists, and the expectation of a short war, it seemed doubtful that he would ever be involved. Optimism waned quickly: by the end of 1918 eight million Frenchmen had served in the war, around 40% of the male population. So, Pépé René became a poilu. He walked and crawled in muddy trenches. He dodged bullets and obus at the battle of Verdun. He was among the lucky ones: he came back from the war with “only” some exposure to toxic gases and a life-long addiction to cigarettes, a soldier’s comfort liberally distributed in the trenches. Like all veterans, he kept tokens of the war inside himself: in his case, lung cancer.

The monuments aux morts of Payrignac includes memorials for WWI, WWII, and the Algeria War.

As France gets ready to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Armistice, TV viewers are overwhelmed by a slew of documentaries serving archives, old photos, and silent black-and-white reels. A newscast shows a group of pre-teens in Indre-et-Loire brushing and scraping their village memorial to expose the names of those who died for la patrie. Another group of youths at the necropolis of la Doua near Villeurbanne sets up a candle at the foot of each cross in the military cemetery (6500 of them!) In Champagne and Pas-de Calais, men clad in uniformes d’époque roam the trenches, the shelters, the observatories like their ancestors did; some are even spending several nights there this week.

The lake, right behind the monument aux morts.

Far from Paris where some sixty heads of states will join President Macron, my small village is also getting ready for Sunday’s commemoration. There will be a special mass (dominical services are no longer held in our church except on Palm Sunday and Assumption) and a wreath will be placed at the monument aux morts. Because we are in France, the ceremony will be followed by a vin d’honneur, a pre-lunch aperitif served to all citizens.

The WWII memorial

After dropping Rick off to French class this morning, I stopped by the village and parked in front of the school. I could hear the voices of ebullient, care-free toddlers playing in the courtyard. Fifty meters away, everything was peaceful and the lake gleamed like a mirror. Birds occasionally flew out of the golden catalpas nearby. Our grey WWII concrete memorial is nestled into this serene shrine of greenery. The names of the fallen are listed alphabetically, engraved on two slabs of marble. Thirty-eight names. One of the soldiers, first name Justin, shares my maiden name: a distant cousin, no doubt. Four others bear the same last name. I picture an anguished woman whose family was annihilated, her husband and sons reduced to red letters carved in marble. Red like their blood.

She, too, was promised that war would be “la der des ders…”


The official website for the Centenary: http://centenaire.org/fr

Vocabulary
La Grande Guerre: the mighty war; refers to WWI
La cagouille: snail; colloquial French from the Charente region
Le potager: vegetable garden
La mairie: city hall
Le poilu: a hairy man; refers to WWI soldiers in the trenches who could not wash or shave; prior to that, men who were “poilus” were thought to be especially strong and brave.
L’obus (m): mortar shell
La patrie: homeland
L’uniforme d’époque (m): period uniform
Le monument aux morts: war memorial
Le vin d’honneur: celebratory event where wine or other libations are offered
La der des ders: abbreviation for “la dernière des dernières”, the last of the last, WWI. It was so horrible, it seemed inconceivable that it wouldn’t be the last war, ever.