Stockholm

I was in Stockholm a few weeks ago for some research, with plenty of time to sight-see.

I didn't know much about Stockholm before I went, but I was quite pleasantly surprised by how lovely a city it is. Having been a royal capital for centuries, it's more elegant, generally, than Gothenburg, but it shares with Sweden's N. 2 city a closeness with water and nature. Stockholm is spread out on an archipelago, so I always seemed to be crossing harbours and inlets, with boats everywhere. Parks---often on rocky hills jutting out of the landscape at random---seemed to be everywhere, too; apparently, the city's area is 1/3 water and 1/3 parkland, a beautiful, clean and relaxing setting for an otherwise grand pastel-coloured city. 

The sky was quite dramatic too. I was there during the darkest time of year, of course, the sky black by 4:00 p.m. and the daytime sun very low in the sky even at its peak. The very clouds seemed to skim the horizon as they raced by, also; I don't know if this was just how they appeared under (or beside) the horizontal winter sun, or if it's typical of the Baltic winter, but it added to the peculiar impression of a very low firmament.

Much to my surprise, I realized when in Stockholm how much I missed cold winter weather around this time of year. The mild grey of Paris just doesn't cut it for me I suppose, while Stockholm's colder bite, though not quite like Canada's, felt more like December to me. That being said, there was no snow on the ground, although I was told that this year was milder than usual.

It's also a very calm city. Maybe the parkland and water reduces the city's overall density, or maybe it's the difference between Scandinavian culture and those I'm more familiar with, or maybe it was because it was winter, but while the streets were far from abandoned I often found them strangely quiet. I would sometimes turn several lonely corners before stumbling upon a busy, brightly-lit shopping street or a crowded restaurant. It was slightly surreal, and certainly a change from Paris.

Vaux-le-Vicomte

Vaux-le-Vicomte was built in the mid-1600s by Nicolas Fouquet, chief financier to Louis XIV. Legend has it that when the project was completed, Fouquet hosted a great party to which the king was invited. The king, having calmly taken in the supremely coordinated gardens and chateau, realized the extent of his financier's wealth and the degree to which Fouquet had surpassed the king in his own magnificence; the next day, Fouquet was arrested---while Louis XIV took on Vaux-le-Vicomte's architect Louis Le Vau, painter Charles Le Brun, and gardener André Le Notre to create Versailles.

The legend actually exaggerates certain events and motivations, but this chateau and garden certainly represent an important milestone in the history of French architecture that Louis XIV himself recognized. 

The chateau is centred on the double-height oval salon (of which I didn't manage to get very good photos). The salon's ceiling would have had a fresco glorifying Fouquet's master the king, while the room itself projects out into the garden. The gardens are, of course, vast, with a very interesting use of level changes and surprise: A broad canal perpendicular to the main axis of the gardens only appears as one approaches, the grotto on the other side revealed to be farther away than it seemed from the salon. Huge bodies of water reflect the sky and, from certain perspectives, the architecture of the chateau. 

It is as though these gardens are meant to question the visitor's sense of reality, while the chateau's stable presence reinforces the royal authority that is celebrated in the salon below the distinctive dome.

(The photos are from last September.)

Yet another reason to love French pastries...

... or at least, French bakers' humour.

Bagatelle

The parc de Bagatelle is a beautiful little château designed by architect Bélanger in an English-style park that now forms part of the Bois de Boulogne. It was built in the 1770s for the comte d'Artois, allegedly the result of a bet with his sister-in-law Marie Antoinette.

The park is composed of woods, expanses of lawn, grottoes and ponds, a kitchen garden, and a particularly well-known rose garden. When I visited a few weeks ago, it was too late in the season to enjoy the full effect of the rose garden, but Bagatelle was still a delight. This post is mostly a celebration of fall textures and colours, and a little eccentricity, under hazy grey light.

Le Viaduc des arts

By happy accident, I stumbled upon the Viaduc des arts yesterday. 

It's a former rail bridge east of the Bastille that was transformed in the 90s into an elevated urban park (like the High Line in NYC), with shops and ateliers in the beautiful arches at street level. Along with the pleasure of strolling above the city, some buildings cleverly straddle the Viaduc; older neighbouring buildings from the days of the rail line present interesting backs and profiles. The Viaduc almost imperceptibly ends at ground level where it connects to another network of parks. 

Signs of jerks

I saw this note on a car door this morning. Clearly the car-owner is trying to be pro-active, probably having learned from painful experience.

Roughly translated: 

"Nothin' to steal in this car! 

No use breaking the windows!! 

I've already taken care of it all!" (That's what I think the last line means.)

Later that day, I was doing research in the microfilm room at the National Archives. I had brought three reels back to my reader; the first 15 cm of one of the reels was torn, I noticed when I'd opened the box, and so I left the torn bit of film on the counter while I consulted the rest of the reel, intending to bring it all up to the counter when I was done. 

Mournful monument

For Hallowe'en/All Saints' Day: An amazing Montmartre Cemetery tomb.

Villa Savoye

I went out to the suburb of Poissy today to visit Le Corbusier's Villa Savoye, THE icon of Modernist architecture.

I can confirm that everything they say about it is true---and to a surprising extent.

The central axes are indeed almost always occupied by structure, a wall, a railing, even a window frame, forcing you "around" the centre and encouraging you to move.

You do clearly understand that Le Corbusier is revealing to you all sides of the architecture, as it were; you're diligently shown all sides and inside of every volume.

The views of the sky and surrounding grounds are indeed tightly-cropped and controlled. This is eloquent when it came to the sky, but I found it a restrictive way for a summer house to treat the landscape.

Yes, the house betrays a curious obsession with hygiene. I've never seen so many bidets before. But that's fine, because the master bathroom is marvellous.

Finally: As you can probably tell, I liked the staircase. 

Les Invalides

The Hôtel des Invalides was built as a veterans' hospital with large church on the Left Bank in the 1670s,  during the reign of Louis XIV, by architects Libéral Bruant and Jules Hardouin-Mansart. It's a huge complex  dominated by Hardouin-Mansart's beautiful church dome, with a large lawn on either side of the street leading up the entrance. Nonetheless, it hadn't been a high priority of mine to visit earlier, perhaps because I just assumed that it was a large but otherwise dull institution. Also, part of it is a military museum, and military history isn't really a strong interest of mine. Maybe it wasn't foolish on my part to have been dismissive, because otherwise I might not have been so pleasantly surprised today.

On either side of the interesting arched entrance bay, the roof features dormer windows shaped quite remarkably (and appropriately) as knights' armour! Each one is unique.

The Court of Honour.

The dormers overlooking the Court of Honour are shaped like coats-of-arms; my sense is that each one refers to a great individual or family who supported the king or army.

A view of the Court of Honour from the upper gallery. The ground-floor galleries lead to various parts of the Military Museum. I checked out just one part of the collection of uniforms, weapons, etc., and was really impressed by just how much material there was---especially from the Napoleonic wars. They even had Napoleon's favourite Arabian horse on display (stuffed, of course)!

The church of Saint-Louis-des-Invalides was divided in two at the altar. The long nave in the photos above formed the soldiers' church, while the domed structure on the other side of the altar was reserved for the king and other royals when they attended mass "with" the soldiers...

... But now, the domed church serves as the tomb of none other than Napoleon I, whose sarcophagus is in an interesting "pit."

The entrance to the lower part of the tomb is in the back of the domed church's altar.