Finding Old Photos: France Edition

Well, I've been here before. A slow month. I could write about a lot of health things or political topics but I don't want to and you probably don't want to read them. So, it's back to revisiting the travel photo archive!

Sainte-Chapelle

If I had to advise someone on the "must see" church in Paris, it wouldn't be the enormous Notre Dame or St. Sulpice with its notable organ. It would be Sainte-Chapelle. So, after our visit to Montmartre, we were off to hear a concert!   

Remember Sainte Chappelle?

Remember Sainte Chappelle?

Two days after we had the joyous experience of hearing Vivaldi in Sainte Chappelle, we thought we should try to revisit the church and take advantage of our (hopefully) free pass, thanks to our friend at the concert.

The spire of Sainte Chappelle towers over Ile de la Cite, tall and graceful at 245 feet.

(This spire was created in 1853, after a fire burned the original spire.)

The line was long, and Jerry moved to the front, explaining in his flawless French why we were there and showing him the note she had written. Similarly, we made it through security and to the ticket booth, where he explained we had been there two nights before.


“Oh, Jeanie and Jerry!” he exclaimed, with a big smile and great familiarity! “Welcome to Sainte Chappelle! Please go in!”

Ste. Chappelle is located on the Ile de Cite, the island on which Notre Dame is located, and where the Seine divides. (North of it is the right bank, and south is the Left Bank.)

The lower chapel is where the servants worshipped (and also serves a double purpose as the gift shop). The oldest wall painting in Europe is on these walls, and the arches are thick with gold.

The columns are relatively untouched. Or touched up.

I found it equally as beautiful as the upper chapel, just far more simple.

I was particularly struck by the beautiful golden columns.


And even though it was a lower level, there were indeed beautiful -- if small -- stained glass windows.

And the lovely altar area.

Of course, now that we had access, we had to return to the upper chapel. There are 15 windows, all depicting stories from the Bible. For example, Genesis, Numbers, Exodus, Esther – these stories are told in inspriational glass work.

The Rose Window tells of the Apocalypse.

The wall paintings beneath the window are works of art in themselves.

Stone carvings of the 12 apostles are featured on the pillars of the chapel.

And so many lovely details are throughout.

And, its spire, seen from outside, is 245 feet, rising over the island.

The King and his mother sat in these booths. His, below, had a large stained glass window with the story of Numbers.

The window above her alcove (below) told the story of Esther.

My guidebook says that in the Middle Ages, the devout likened Ste. Chappelle to “a gateway to heaven.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Next time – a visit to the Music district and the Opera!

Things I Learned Today:

It helps hanging out with someone who speaks French – if Jerry didn’t, we never would have been able to return here without paying the admission fee.

I didn't know about the windows and the various stories ascribed to each before.

I was surprised that a gift shop smack in the middle of a church (I mean, not even divided by a wall) could fit in seamlessly and unobtrusively!

Three Churches

First of all, today is Bastille Day (and no, I didn't visit the Bastille, or the column that marks its spot, but this morning on NPR (Morning Edition) there is a feature about music related to the French Revolution for those into that!)

Well, after my visit to the Jardin du Luxembourg, I was only a few blocks from Saint-Sulpice, an enormous church built in 1646 (that took more than a century to build).

I first heard of Saint-Sulpice in The DaVinci Code – it was the church that the albino monk tore apart as he demolished the Rose Line on the floor and then killed the nun when he didn’t find what he wanted.

Needless to say, filming was not done at St. Sulpice (though I confess to being eager to check out the movie to see how close they came to getting it right!)

Act III of Massenet's Manon takes place there, too.

Much of the controversy has to do with the copper line, founded by Jean-Jacques Olier, who had it designed according to the Golden Mean of sacred geometry.

In Brown's controversial novel, chapters 19 and 22 echo the notions that the Sulpice meridian is the same as the Paris Meridian (in the novel called "the Rose Line") that the church was built on the site of a pagan temple, and that the seminary attached to the church was unorthodox.

In the years following the publication of the novel, tourists would sometimes be seen knocking on the floor near the obelisk, searching for hollow spaces.

Wikipedia takes a different view. They say the meridian line on the floor of Saint-Sulpice is not a part of the Paris Meridian.

According to wikipedia , that line and the obelisk are called "the gnomon." In 1727, the priest of Saint-Sulpice requested the construction of the gnomon to help him determine the time of the equinoxes and ultimately, Easter. A meridian line of brass was inlaid across the floor and ascending a white marble obelisk, nearly eleven meters high, at the top of which is a sphere surmounted by a cross. The obelisk is dated 1743.

In the south transept window a small opening with a lens was set up, so that a ray of sunlight shines onto the brass line. At noon on the winter solstice (December 21), the ray of light touches the brass line on the obelisk. At noon on the equinoxes (March 21 and September 21), the ray touches an oval plate of copper in the floor near the altar.

Constructed by the English clock-maker and astronomer Henry Sully, the gnomon was also used for various scientific measurements: This rational use may have protected Saint-Sulpice from being destroyed during the French Revolution.

The windows are large and arched and Delacroix murals are featured in the chapel.

While organ recitals are supposedly the thing to hear in this space, that I did not see. The church, however, was simply beautiful.

It was nearly dinner time and on the way back, I noticed a poster for a Vivaldi concert at Ste. Chappelle. This was the one church I wanted to see most of all, and the thought of hearing a concert there was so exciting I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Jerry.

After a lovely dinner at home (oh, it was so good)…

… we set off for Ste. Chappelle, just barely arriving in time to be seated. (The fellow at the door said after, we could go to the lower chapel, which was supposed to be where holy relics had been kept.)

The concert was by the Les Solistes Français, with Paul Rouger as the lead violinist. The septet included violin, viola, bass, cello and harpsichord, and from the first note, it was simply heavenly.
Imagine – you are sitting in this space.

... surrounded by enormous windows, still catching the early evening sun.

The chandeliers dim, the musicians walk to the front of the church...

... and begin to play for more than an hour.

And while I’d missed Rick more than once on this trip, it was at this moment that I became horribly homesick, knowing how much my classical music-loving partner would be cherishing this moment.

They don’t miss a note. The sound fills the church like something one would expect to hear as they prepare to enter heaven.

The light moves around the church as it gets a bit darker. And then it is over.

Of course I buy a CD...

... which Paul Rouger autographs!

But alas, it is too late to see the lower chapel. Jerry explains to a woman on site, and she makes a call, leaves our name and writes a note in French on our ticket stub. “Come back,” she says. “They’ll let you in.”

Did they? Stay tuned!

We walked back, stopping at one of Jerry’s favorite café’s in the Marais, called Les Marronniers (Chestnuts), where I had their drink of the day – an interesting cocktail with cucumber in it. Fresh and different.

Then we stopped in at St. Gervais, a large church behind the Hotel deVille. Eveything in this church was massive and far different from the elegant and light Ste. Chappelle. But it was beautiful.

The stone angels were particular favorites of mine, and I suspect they’ll find their way into a collage sometime soon.

(If you feel you can use the stone angel in your collage work, feel free to double click and she'll come out rather large and useful!)

I didn’t take photos of the chapel, as a group was in a prayer vigil there, but it was quiet, beautiful and peaceful.

By the time we got home, I was ready to crash. Gardens. Churches. Music. Café’s. It was a big day!

Things I Learned Today:

Sainte Chappelle was built to house “The Crown of Thorns” – a relic presumed to be from Christ’s cross and acquired by Louis IX in 1297 from the emperor of Constantinople. Louis paid more for the relic than he did for the construction of the church – nearly three times more.

It pays to read posters on walls and poles! You just might find a good concert!

Sampling a “drink of the day” at a café may be delicious and fun, but I wish I’d had the wine – the might have seemed a little more French. Or maybe not!

People watching is simply glorious!