Paris: Musée du Louvre

Monday, 6 June, 2011

Destination #3: Musée du Louvre

Before there was I.M. Pei's pyramid, Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Winged Victory of Samothrace or the gift shop, there was the Palace of the Louvre:

Model of medieval palace in current Louvre

Eleanor's first husband Louis VII could acquit himself ably enough in battle, but he was never the military strategist that his son Philippe Auguste would prove himself to be. Nicknamed Dieudonné (God-Given) at birth, Louis' much longed-for son was born in 1165 (sharing a birth year with Joanna, the youngest daughter of Henry and Eleanor). Philippe was crowned at age 15 and took up where his father had left off sowing and cultivating seeds of discontent between Henry II and his sons Hal, Richard, Geoffrey and John (Eleanor was out of the picture due to her imprisonment by Henry). Philippe seemingly made it his life's work to destroy the Angevins. I can't help but wonder if father Louis' humiliation over the outcome of his marriage to Eleanor was transmitted to son Philippe, who took it upon himself to destroy as much of the Plantagenet legacy as he could by either might or manipulation for the glory of Les Capétiens.

Richard & Philippe quarreling after Messina. 14th century Illustration from Grandes Chroniques de France, Bibliothèque Nationale de France.

Philippe's interpersonal relationships were complicated, to say the least. It's beyond the scope of this blog to discuss Philippe's marital woes but they make for fascinating reading! Philippe spent most of his life fighting with someone, whether Pope or Plantagenet, vassal or wife. And yet, for all his presumed need for Plantagenet-based revenge, Philippe maintained what seems to have been a genuinely close friendship with the fourth son of Henry and Eleanor, Geoffrey Duke of Brittany. Philippe was allegedly so overcome with grief at Geoffrey's untimely death (which we saw memorialized earlier in a plaque at Notre Dame) that he had to be forcibly restrained from jumping into Geoffrey's coffin.

Let's just say that Philippe was never particularly subtle when it came to making grand gestures. Take the impressive Palais de Louvre, for example. Built in the late 1180s, it was intended to deter Henry Plantagenet should he consider casting covetous eyes upon Paris. It was considered an impregnable fortress the scale of which had not been seen to date, a fortified castle complete with water moat, drawbridge, crenelated towers 32 feet high, and thick walls. Philippe's cylindrical watch tower was known as Le Grosse Tour and was originally surrounded by a dry moat which was expanded. The complex eventually became home to Paris' archives and treasures of the kingdom. Philippe also kept his arsenal stored at this castle along with archives and treasure. The Louvre was never his residence.

Louvre in the time of Philippe Auguste by Louis-Pierre Baltard, circa 1803

The building was renovated and enlarged over subsequent centuries and in time it did became a lovely royal residence.

Illumination "Les très riches heures du duc de Berry" showing the much-enhanced Louvre in the time of Charles V, nearly 200 years later

The keep was razed in the 16th century by Francis I, but the foundations of Philippe Auguste's original Louvre fortress still remain in the bowels of the Old Louvre complex, which we'll visit a bit later in our tour today.

By this point most of us were limping along rather pathetically, having stomped through half the Rive Gauche, Notre-Dame, and the Cluny Museum by 1 PM. Time out for lunch on our own helped, but the Louvre is an intimidating stop even for the freshest of explorers and we were all rather wilted by this point!  Fortunately our guides took us directly to the only known artifact physically associated with Eleanor of Aquitaine.

Behold, the Eleanor Vase.

"Hoc vas sponsa dedit Anor Regi Ludovico, Mitadolus avo, mihi Rex, Sanctisque Sugerus."  

That is: "As a bride, Eleanor gave the vase to King Louis, Mitadolus to her grandfather, the King to me, and Suger to the Saints."

According to that inscription on the base that Abbot Suger added, Eleanor gave this vase to Louis as a
wedding gift. At some point Louis gave it to Abbot Suger for the Treasury at St-Denis.

Early Byzantine carvings of rock crystal often involved aquatic themes, which may be why later Europeans interpreted rock crystal as being petrified ice. Rock crystal was considered to be an allegory for the Fountain of Life....precious stuff, indeed. Its level of transparency and reflectivity was renowned and was popularly used in the Muslim world for the creation of precious lamps for shrines and drinking vessels. This leads to the intriguing speculation that perhaps the Eleanor Vase was never a vase at all, but instead was a drinking cup or lantern.

In Turner's collection of essays about Eleanor, historian George Birch believes that the piece was originally made in the Byzantine empire, possibly Persia, between 3 and 7 CE. He posits that Mitadolus was a Muslim emir from southern Spain, King Imad al-dawla of Saragossa, who gifted Eleanor's grandfather Duke William IX of Aquitaine with the vase in 1120 to win his support. This makes the vase all the more significant, not just as the lone surviving Eleanor artifact but as tangible evidence of Christian and Muslim collaboration from a unique era.

And yet Louis gave it away! The reason for Louis passing along a wedding gift (which is thought to have happened while the couple was still married) is unknown. It certainly seems to have been an awkward decision when looked at with modern sensibilities, and perhaps also from medieval ones! Perhaps it was an offering in hopes that the couple's barren marriage would be blessed by a child (two daughters, Marie and Alix, were eventually born to Louis and Eleanor).  Or was it a personal gift from Louis to his mentor Abbot Suger as thanks for rendering spiritual and state guidance?  Maybe it was the last remaining piece of a set and deemed not worth keeping around the palace! Whatever it once was, it remains an exquisite piece and visiting it set the bar high for finding further traces of Eleanor's world in the 21st century.

The original piece that Eleanor gave Louis was likely only rock crystal. What can't be seen due to the gilded silver setting Suger later added is the neck of vase, which according to the Louvre website extends upwards two centimeters. St-Denis Treasury inventories stated that the setting is of gold, jewels, and pearls, and mentioned two red jaspers "on one of which is engraved an idol, and on the other the head of a man." Those are long gone. The blue enamel medallions with fleurs-de-lis on the third band down are likely later substitutes for lost jewels. Suger believed that the beauty of precious objects such as this one helped worshipers transcend the material world, and he likely used the piece as a communion vessel (which again makes me wonder if it was contemporarily considered to be a drinking cup, not a vase). The crystal was reportedly in perfect condition until it was cracked in the 18th century (seriously not a good century for French artifacts).

The Louvre photo below shows the best detail so I am reproducing it here for discussion purposes. More details can be found on the Louvre website HERE.

Our group stood for a very long time at this display and we snapped many photos. My favorite shot is this one of author Sharon Kay Penman with the Eleanor Vase:

Photo by Lisa Williams Adair

We wandered around the Richelieu wing looking at other representatives from the Middle Ages decorative arts collection. There were a number of items from the Treasury of the Royal Abbey of St-Denis which resonated deeply with me, given the effort I'd made to visit this significant cathedral on my first day of the trip. The Eleanor Vase was displayed with two other pieces that Abbot Suger himself had a hand in designing:

Photo by Wendy Mehary

Suger found the middle piece, a vase from Egypt, and added the gilded silver eagle to transform it into a liturgical chalice. He explained:

And further we adapted for the service of the altar, with the aid of gold and silver material, a porphyry vase, made admirable by the hand of the sculptor and polisher, after it had lain idly in a chest for many years, converting it from a flagon into the shape of an eagle; and we had the following verses inscribed on this vase: "This stone deserves to be enclosed in gems and gold. It was marble, but in these settings it is more precious than marble." (Includi gemmis lapis iste meretur auro: Marmor set, sed in his marmore cavior est).

The other piece on display at far left was commissioned by Abbot Suger and is known as The Sardonyx Ewer. It was used for holding sacramental wine. Its inscription reads "Dum libare Deo gemmis debemus & auro Hoc ego Suggerius offero vas Domino" loosely translated as "Since we ought to offer to God with jewels and gold, I offer this, I make a vessel unto the Lord."

There is a fourth piece that is known to have been commissioned by Abbot Suger, currently in the collection of the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC.  Since visiting these medieval treasures in Paris and learning about their provenance, I've made it a point to stop in to pay my respect to Abbot Suger's aesthetic whenever touring the National Gallery. Here it is:

This cup is believed to be of Alexandrian origin in the last century BCE, although of course the mounting is circa 1137-1140. It is described as a "sardonyx cup with gilded silver mounting, set with stones, pearls, and glass" and was used as a liturgical chalice. The National Gallery catalogue claims that Abbot Suger

....took particular delight in the swirling bands of this stone cup in which the sard's red hue...so keenly vies with the darkness of the onyx that one essence seem to be bent on invading the other. The fluted carving, with deep channels cut into the sides, accentuates the sense of natural forces in surging motion...

The chalice may have been used in the re-consecration ceremony for the new altar chapels of St-Denis on 11 June 1144, an event that Eleanor very likely attended. Abbot Suger did not disclose the provenance of this sardonyx cup but is thought that it might have been brought to Saint-Denis by dealers who flocked there knowing of his love of pretty things or it may have been a pawn redeemed by a wealthy lenders from the Jewish community who'd settled in Saint-Denis and Paris. This is likely how other items in the St-Denis treasury were procured as well.

How did this piece make it to Washington DC? The National Gallery catalogue explains:

In fulfillment of the law ordering the nationalization of the monastic orders, on 30 September 1791, the chalice was taken away from Saint-Denis and deposited at the Cabinet National des Médailles et Antiques. On the night of 16-17 February 1804, it was stolen from the Cabinet National, forced into a plaster bust of Laocoön, and smuggled, presumably by way of Holland, to England, which was then at war with France. It was acquired 1804 by Charles Towneley [1737-1805], London; in the Towneley family, London, until possibly 1920. (Harry Harding, London), in 1920; (Goldschmidt Galleries, New York), by 1921; purchased 20 March 1922 by Joseph E. Widener, Lynnewood Hall, Elkins Park, Pennsylvania; inheritance from Estate of Peter A.B. Widener by gift through power of appointment of Joseph E. Widener, after purchase by funds of the Estate; gift 1942 to NGA.

Much detail about this piece and Abbot Suger's visionary commissions can be found in the chapter on Medieval Metalwork and Styles in the National Gallery publication Western Decorative Arts: medieval, Renaissance, and historicizing styles.

One last look at detail on the sardonyx cup. While alterations have occurred over the centuries, this medallion with solemn haloed Christ, flanked by the Greek letters signifying 'I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End'" dates to Suger's time. I think that the intricate spirals of gold filigree, so detailed and done with the naked eye without modern visual magnification, are absolutely breath-taking:

Somehow I doubt it will ever make its way back to France to rejoin the other three Suger commissions, but I'd like to see that happen. They belong together.

Anyway, back to the Louvre. There were many other objects there from the Treasury of St-Denis, albeit from later eras. One that I found particularly intriguing was this patène de serpentine, a saucer inlaid with gold, precious stones, pearls, and colored glass. The paten itself dates to the time of Christ and a Glasgow historian gained some press in 2007 by speculating that this plate may be the legendary Holy Grail. The gold mount likely dates to the reign of Charles the Bald in the late 9th century, and this paten was used along with the Cup of the Ptolemies at the coronation of French queens. It's been associated with Abbot Suger but was probably not used during his time. Still, it's an intriguing piece:

 

When we finally tore ourselves away from the medieval decorative arts, we did a blitzkrieg highlight tour of the Louvre. We visited the Appartements Napoléon III and Cour Marley (see details about that on my other blog, The Historical Dilettante). We also had the opportunity to stop and see specific works such as Goujon's famous Diana and the Stag (forever associated with the fascinating Diane d'Poitiers); Venus de Milo (I was amused to later learn that founding members of The American Society of Plastic Surgeons had chosen to reproduce a likeness of the statue as their organization's emblem. Apparently for enough money, anyone can look like a beautiful woman with no arms); Winged Victory of Samothrace; and various Renaissance paintings including La Joconde (I have to admit to spending more time watching and being amused by the hordes of people jockeying for prime photo spots than gazing at the painting). Highlight tours are not my thing and I really hate being rushed through a museum. Oh well, such are the drawbacks of touring with a group.

Our most significant visit after viewing the Treasures from St-Denis was to the foundations of Philippe-Auguste's Louvre Fortress, deep in the bowels of what is considered the Old Louvre. 

As noted previously, although Philippe's fortress was razed during the Renaissance, excavations for the underground visitor’s center beneath I.M. Pei's glass pyramid uncovered the foundations of the original castle in 1983. These foundations are remarkably well-preserved and we enjoyed walking where once the wet moat protected the keep, and seeing the massive pediments.

We wandered on the long wooden walkway through the middle of the moat, down what amounts now to a dark tunnel beside the massive exposed foundations, and ended up in a mysterious little room of unknown purpose that featured a carving of this creepy fellow:

 

We returned by tour bus to our hotel. Some of our group attended a medieval-inspired dinner at a restaurant that had been arranged in advance. Since the menu was not accommodating to my dietary choices, I declined and instead had dinner with Paula, Sue and Nicole, and Yvonne at one of the restaurants at the Place de la Sorbonne. Sue and Nicole and I then wandered down to Montebello Quay for an evening boat ride on the Seine. We laughed a lot and enjoyed the sights of Paris (including several young men who mooned our passing bateau from the docks).

So much packed into such a short time! I was glad this was not my first trip to Paris, as I'd have felt cheated by the fast pace. When I look at my personal photos of this time, I am struck by how radiantly happy and excited and completely exhausted I look!

Tomorrow we will leave Paris to track Eleanor's life in Normandy and beyond, so it was back to the hotel for a good night's sleep.

Bonne nuit et fais des beaux rêves, Paris!

Sharon Kay Penman's blog entry about our first full day of touring in Paris can be found here: LINK.

Paris: Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris

Monday 6 June 2011.

Today was our first day of scheduled touring. Unfortunately it was every bit as overcast and drizzly as yesterday. We donned our most comfortable shoes, made sure we had portable rain gear, and set off walking with our guides for a day of Paris sightseeing with a medieval twist. This day will be divided into three separate posts for our main destinations, to prevent information overload!

Destination #1:  Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris

Photo by Tammie Maloney

Cathédrale Notre Dame as we know it was not the first church built on this site. In 52 BCE, the Romans conquered the Parisii and settled the town of Lutetia, building a Temple of Jupiter to celebrate. They used stone blocks (discovered during a 1710 renovation of the crypt at Notre-Dame) to form a square pillar with a dedication from the "Boatmen of the Parisii territories" to Jupiter and the Roman Emperor Tiberius. This rediscovered pillar now resides in the Cluny Museum (which we'll visit later today).

In 528, King of the Franks Childebert I (one of the four sons of Clovis) built the first Christian church in Paris. It was initially dedicated to Saint Etienne but eventually became known as Notre-Dame. Archaeological excavations in the 20th century suggest that this Mérovingian house of worship was massive, with a five-aisle nave similar to that of the first Saint Peter’s in Rome. It was some 36 metres wide and at least 70 metres long. Its original foundations lie beneath the present-day cathedral. 

In 1163, Bishop of Paris Maurice de Sully demolished this Mérovingian basilica to Notre Dame, which had been much altered in the ensuing 650 years. He apparently felt it was not grand enough -- simply wouldn't do to serve as "the parish church of the kings of Europe."  Perhaps he felt the old-fashioned church needed to be updated in the new Gothic style.

I like to think he was also embarrassed that the cathedral of the city of Paris was inferior to Abbot Suger's magnificent Abbaye de St-Denis to the north of the city! Fortunately for us, Sully's competitive feelings eventually resulted in a masterpiece. He devoted his career and fortune to the construction of this cathedral.

Photo by John Phillips

The above view is from the Place du Parvis Notre-Dame. This was once truly the center of Paris, both literally and figuratively. The land around here was filled with other churches, chapels, businesses and residences, although all that was cleared when Sully began his 12th century building campaign.

The plaza was further enlarged during the Haussman era of Paris reconstruction. On the ground are the outlines of some of the old churches and streets that were demolished. There is also a brass star set into the ground right in front of the cathedral that was the "point zero" used to measure the distances of all roads leading to and from Paris.

Numerous architects worked on the site over the centuries, as modifications and repairs were completed. That's apparent to the naked eye, as one can see differing styles and even note the differing heights of the towers. The church is a limestone palimpsest, held together with the dried sweat of ten centuries worth of men who created and recreated a divine masterpiece.

This cathedral, like most churches, suffered during the Revolution. The building was re-dedicated to the Cult of Reason and later to the Cult of the Supreme Being. Lady Liberty replaced the Virgin Mary on several altars. And like other churches I'd visited, this cathedral even came to be used at one point as a food warehouse!

Most of the original early 13th century statuary and carvings were vandalized and destroyed by the mobs of the French Revolution, as the stone Kings of Judah who once fronted the building became representational stand-ins for the Kings of France. The Revolutionaries, frustrated by their inability to draw blood from stone, moved onto other large-scale acts of human destruction at the Place de la Concorde (but that's another story from another time).

It was the popularity of Victor Hugo's 1831 classic The Hunchback of Notre Dame that called attention to the sorry condition of the church and reminded people that it was one of France's national treasures. Restoration began in 1845, overseen by architects Jean-Baptiste-Antoine Lassus and the ubiquitous Eugene Viollet-le-Duc.

Our guide said that in 1977 the heads of the Kings of Judah and hundreds of other sculptural stone fragments were uncovered in the Chaussée d’Antin district (near the Opera Garnier and Galleries Lafayette department store) during the course of routine construction work. The Musée de Cluny was immediately contacted and told "We've found the heads of the Kings of Judah!" But since it happened to be April 1st, the Cluny contact initially thought the call was a prank! The Cluny website doesn't mention this story but does describe how after the Revolution the statues were purchased by a builder for scrap, with the heads resold and then 'buried with respect' in 1796, until rediscovered in 1977. April Fools joke or not, it's a great story and an amazing archaeological discovery. (We'll see the heads when we visit the Cluny, our next stop on the tour).

Photo by John Phillips

The cathedral was given a thorough cleaning in the late 20th century that highlighted the beauty of the front portal carvings. We spent a lot of time looking at those. 

Saint Anne's portal is the oldest of the three entrances, installed in 1200. The tympanum features the Majestic Virgin with Child that was allegedly made some fifty years earlier, dating it to use in the original Mérovingien cathedral. 

There is an angel on each side of the throne. On the left is the Bishop of Paris. On the right is a king of France, whom I like to think of as Eleanor's first husband Louis VII.

If it was indeed sculpted in 1150, it's quite possible I may be right about the model!

 

The center portal represents the Last Judgement. It is the newest of the three portals, dating to the 1220s.  Christ is shown in the center on this trumeau, in a teaching pose. He is standing on a pedestal sculpted with the liberal arts: Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, Arithmetic, Music, Geometry, and Astronomy. 

I prefer this medieval way of classifying knowledge and working toward a holistic understanding: STEAM instead of STEM! However limited medieval understanding might have been compared to the modern era, it was not for want of the method of study but rather for the limits of knowledge about the known world.

This trumeau was removed in 1771 to make room for the canopy used to cover the Holy Sacrament during processions.

We have Viollet-le-Duc to thank for its restoration in mid-19th century.

I get a kick out of medieval Last Judgement representations and this one was especially fun to look at. The devil has such a delicious leer, and his minions are perfectly sleazy. The Saved who are grouped behind Saint Michel are suitably sanctimonious, whereas the Damned have the most chagrined looks. They're not at all remorseful, mind you, only sorry they've been caught!

They'll be plenty sorry once they get to Hell, though. Because: 

I spy a bishop, a monk, and a king being terrorized up in there!

The Portal of the Virgin depicts the life and ascension of Mary; a coronation scene; and an astrological calendar. The nine full-size statues on either side of the door were destroyed in the Revolution and restored in the 19th century by the workshop of Viollet-le-Duc. If they look newer, that's why.

My two favorite Parisian patron saints are represented: Denis, second to the left from the door, Geneviève third on the right from the door. Here's crazy thrill-seeking Denis holding his head, while my girl Geneviève stands looking calm, cool,serene and lovely. That's no mean feat, considering she's got a demon and an angel warring over her shoulders.

Eleanor divorced Louis in 1152, and was thus long gone from Paris by the time the cathedral we know today was started. She most certainly would have visited the original Mérovingien church, since it was considered the city cathedral as far back as the 10th century. She would have likely viewed the tympanum on today's Saint Anne portal.

Remains of the original cathedral and of the medieval streets and houses surrounding it can be viewed if one visits the Crypt Archéologique, a large excavated area under the Parvis Notre-Dame square in front of he cathedral. It was unfortunately closed today; had I known it would be inaccessible, I'd have added it to yesterday's walk! (Note to all tour operators (and tourists): always check closing times in advance when planning your itineraries).  Here are a few photos from a subsequent visit:

Time to enter the cathedral through these amazing doors. I had to take a (blurry) picture of the ornamental iron fretwork as I passed:

Once inside, the contrast between the darkness of the nave and the light streaming in from the transept windows and the chandeliers was breath-taking.

Photo by John Phillips

One tradition I cherish is the lighting a candle in memory of loved ones, which I did immediately upon entering the cathedral.

Photo by Tammie Maloney

More interior photos:

We enjoyed our tour of the cathedral but I think our most exciting medieval moment came when fellow tour member and scholar Malcolm Craig succeeded in finding the plaque honoring Eleanor and Henry's fourth son, Geoffrey II Duke of Brittany and Earl of Richmond. 

Geoffrey's untimely death in a joust occurred in 1186. He was close to his half-sister, Eleanor and Louis' daughter Marie of Champagne. She was reportedly present at the Requiem, and arranged Masses for the repose of his soul with whatever confraternity took care of such things. Malcolm finally found the marker in the ambulatory. 

We all stood around snapping photos of this memorial to a man who, had he lived, might well have been a wonderful king. He'd certainly have prevented the sad fates of his children, had history played out differently.

Although we did not visit the Notre-Dame treasury, it is notable for housing a reliquary that contains the reputed Crown of Thorns. This was the same crown that was offered to Saint Louis by the Latin Emperor of Constantinople in 1238 and eventually housed at the exquisite Sainte-Chapelle. Those were good years for the crown, as it was later threatened during the French Revolution and ended up being tossed around with State versus Church claiming possession. At least it survived! It was restored to the Church under the Concordat of 1801 and deposited at Notre-Dame, where it resides with a sliver of the True Cross and a nail from the Passion.

Some artifacts from the treasury of Notre Dame, from a later trip:

I find reliquaries to be amazing works of art (especially my favorite reliquary of all, the entire Sainte-Chapelle)! I am fascinated by the power of faith manifested in the veneration of vials of dried blood, bone, wood, and fabric scraps. An entire industry sprang up in the Christian world around the trade and manufacture of relics, capitalizing on man's desire to be closer to heaven. I think it truly doesn't matter in the end whether or not the relics are authentic artifacts. It was faith that made them powerful and offered comfort; believing made it so. 

I suppose that's the very nature of faith itself; belief is what keeps it alive, not carbon-dating. 

The rabbit's warren of streets surrounding Notre Dame beckoned, though we didn't have time to explore. Haussmann’s renovation of Paris in the Belle Epoque era has unmistakable charm, but that homogenizing building campaign destroyed so many ancient winding streets and buildings. In medieval times, access to the Cloître Notre-Dame was through four gates, all of which were closed at sunset. Entry was forbidden to anyone outside the community of canons -- especially to women! But the surrounding neighborhood was a vibrant one complete with shops and stalls, chapels and even cemeteries.

There are some architectural remains of this era. On near-by Rue de Ursins is the private chapel of Saint-Aignan,  where it is thought that the secret marriage of Peter Abélard and Héloïse d'Argenteuil took place (other sources claim it occurred at St-Julien-de-Pavre but I think the evidence that it took place at this private chapel which once belonged to Abélard's patron Etienne de Garlande is more compelling. See my post about that on my other blog: The Historical Dilettante).

Eleanor would certainly have known of the story of Abélard and Héloïse. Visiting this small chapel is reportedly difficult, and it was not on our agenda today. It is considered the second oldest building in Paris that dates to Eleanor's era; St-Germain-des-Pres is the oldest.

Also near-by along Le Quai aux Fleurs is a house on the reputed site where Canon Fulbert lived, he who was Héloïse's uncle and the man whose vengeance resulted in Abélard's misfortunes.

These little houses pictured below, squeezed in amongst newer ones, show the medieval charm of the area.

Photo by John Phillips

After a long morning, our little group stopped for a quick snack near-by, with a wonderful view!

Photo by Sherill Roberts

Au Revoir, Notre-Dame!

Our next stop: Musée de Cluny.