ARCHITECTURE
Improvised after-work stroll in non-touristy winter Paris
Photographing architecture from Gothic to Brutalism
Last week, I traveled to Paris for a business trip. With my schedule full of end-of-the-year activities, I needed a nice way to unwind. If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you can probably guess my go-to solution: seeking something a little off the beaten path.
My visit coincided with the grand reopening of the restored Notre Dame Cathedral after the 2019 fire. However, its iconic facade remained wrapped in scaffolding, and people stood in a huge line to get inside. So, instead, I crossed the Seine to the left bank, where I stumbled upon another Gothic marvel. It looked so striking at night, and unlike Notre Dame, no one was queueing to see it.
The Church of St. SĂ©verin may not look large, but its size lets you truly appreciate the gargoyles: bizarre dragons, horned beasts, and snouted devils come into view with surprising clarity. It was, if not my first time, then certainly one of the rare occasions I could see all these architectural details with the naked eye.
This building represents the Flamboyant style, the final phase of Gothic architecture before it fell out of favor. “Flamboyant” means “flaming” in French and refers to characteristic curves forming flame-like shapes. Although the constriction of St. Séverin’s Church began in 1230 (when Notre Dame’s was halfway done), it was rebuilt and expanded in the 15th and 17th centuries, hence its late style.
After enjoying the Gothic, I moved on to the next spot on my Paris “must-see” list — the bath ruins from the 3rd century AD, now part of the Cluny Museum of Medieval Art. I had visited it before on a gloomy autumn day, but this time, I could finally see its walls in warm night illumination. The baths of Cluny date back to the Gallo-Roman town of Lutetia Parisiorum that preceded modern Paris.
During that previous visit, I discovered the museum’s top treasure — a series of six 15th-century tapestries. They were woven in Flanders from wool and silk and titled “The Lady and the Unicorn.”
But let’s set the museums aside. While I couldn’t help but recall that particular exhibit as I passed by, my destination was quite different — and probably only familiar to architecture geeks. I was heading to a 1912 Art Deco residential building in Rue Vavin, designed by Henri Sauvage and Charles Sarazin. I had accidentally discovered this house on social media and bookmarked it for a future visit.
This building was originally nicknamed “sports house,” as the initial design included spaces for fencing, gymnastics, art studios, and even a library. It was a pioneering example of luxury housing, focused on the comfort of its residents, with an emphasis on light, air circulation, and greenery. Because of its stepped design, I didn’t feel this 9-level house was pressing or hanging over the street.
Have you noticed how minimalist this house is compared to the lavishly decorated Art Nouveau buildings of the same period? That’s what makes it so innovative and unique. It’s a precursor to the Modernist style that emerged in the interwar years, the 1920s and 1930s.
Another striking detail is the beveled white tiles, similar to those used in the metro. Later, I learned that these tiles are highly durable and easy to clean. Unlike brick or stone, pollution doesn’t cling to them, which makes maintenance much easier. At first, I didn’t believe it, but then I checked my photo archive and found a shot of the Concorde Station from Line 12, built during the same period, between 1905 and 1910. The same white and deep-blue tiles shining as new!
Just a 10-minute walk from Rue Vavin is another fascinating spot — the Félix Potin department store, with its distinctive corner tower. Félix Potin was a 19th-century French businessman and the founder of a retail company. At its peak, Potin’s business boasted 70 branches, 10 factories, and 650 horses for home delivery!
The store branch in Rue de Rennes was designed in the Art Nouveau style by Paul Auscher and built in 1904. As you can see, it’s much more ornate than the white-tiled building I showed you earlier, despite both belonging to roughly the same period and being only a few years apart.
From there, I headed to the right bank of the Seine, passing through the huge Concorde Square. The air was thick with moisture and felt like something between a drizzle and fog. Christmas preparations seemed to be underway in parts of the square, while the section near the Tuileries Garden remained in shadow. From there, I saw the Eiffel Tower piercing through the misty air like a giant lighthouse.
My next destination was over an hour’s walk away, so I opted for the metro, Line 14, with its white-tiled interiors. I arrived at the Gare de Lyon quite quickly and went to — guess what? — a police station! To be specific, the 12th District Police Station, designed by Manuel Núñez Yanowsky and Miriam Teitelbaum and built in 1991. Some sources say it’s Postmodernist, while others claim it to be Art Deco.
Unlike typical utilitarian designs of police stations, this one truly stands out. It’s topped with 14 sculptures and combines police facilities on the ground floor with apartments above.
But what do these sculptures represent? Honestly, I had no idea at first. While preparing this article, I learned they were inspired by Michelangelo’s “Dying Slave,” a masterpiece housed in the Louvre Museum. And if you’ve seen Michelangelo’s original, you might wonder: where are the sculptures’ genitals? Well, I guess the project was bold enough as it was, and adding extra realism might have risked getting it rejected.
The choice of these statues was symbolic: they represent the idea that not only are criminals “enslaved” in prisons, but the police are also to an extent “slaves” of the law. Besides, the sculptures face a historic square where the infamous medieval Bastille Prison once stood.
It was late, but I wasn’t ready to head back to the hotel just yet. I knew I might not have the energy for another walk like this later in the week. So, I decided to go all in and took the 30-minute metro ride to Ivry-sur-Seine, a southeastern suburb of Paris.
In Ivry-sur-Seine, I intended to see the residential complex “Les Étoiles” (meaning “Stars” in French) designed by Jean Renaudie and René​e Gailhoustet. It’s an intriguing example of Brutalism, which was at the peak of its popularity in the 1970s.
On the one hand, this is a thriving social housing project with mixed-use spaces, such as offices, apartments, and shops. But on the other, I’ve heard a lot of criticism of Brutalism in general , particularly for its daunting atmosphere created by raw concrete walls with mold stains. I wonder what it feels like to actually live here. As a designer, I know that convenience can’t be judged solely by the looks.
The Étoiles excited me with their unique pointed shapes and their natural integration with the surroundings. Part of the complex even extended over the busy road. Some residents had bright-colored illumination in their rooms — blue, orange, and pink — which added a lively touch to the otherwise strict architecture.
It seemed like I’d seen everything I wanted, so I was heading down to the metro, but when I looked up, something caught my attention in the shadows. I guess I’ve developed a bit of an eye for architecture because I immediately recognized it as something ancient.
This was the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, mentioned for the first time in an 1158 historical document. In the photo above, you can see its oldest part — the bottom of the bell tower.
Honestly, I couldn’t uncover anything fascinating about this medieval church. Like many others, it’s been rebuilt, expanded, and restored over the years. But what struck me most was its overall beauty — the way the marks of its history were still visible and how the shadows of bare trees seemed to dance across its facade.
I felt like I’d soaked in enough architecture for the week of my business trip, so it was time to head back to the hotel. What a walk it had been — from Gothic to Art Deco and Art Nouveau, then Postmodernism and Brutalism, and, finally, back to Gothic again! A perfect refresh before diving into the last workweek of 2024.
