#Nôtre Dame

[septembergold]

[fotograrte]

La Santa Capilla, de París.

Con la compra de las Sagradas Reliquias a los emperadores de Costantinopla, Luis IX logró que el prestigio de París creciera a nivel mundial, convirtiéndose en la segunda capital de la cristiandad. Las reliquias costaron el triple que la construcción de la iglesia. El santuario está compuesto por dos plantas; a la capilla superior sólo podían acceder el rey y sus allegados, y fue el lugar en el que se colocaron las reliquias. La capilla inferior, mucho más discreta y menos luminosa, era el lugar de culto del personal del palacio. Aunque durante el periodo revolucionario la Sainte Chapelle sufrió numerosos destrozos, las valiosas vidrieras lograron mantenerse a salvo gracias a que fueron cubiertas por grandes archivadores. A pesar de haber sido construida como un relicario, en la actualidad no guarda ninguna de las reliquias que albergaba tras su construcción, sino que las que sobrevivieron a la Revolución fueron depositadas en el Tesoro de la Catedral de Notre Dame.

Luis IX de Francia es San Luis:

(Luis o San Luis IX de Francia, llamado el Santo; Poissy, 1215 - Túnez, 1270) Rey de Francia. Era hijo de Luis VIII y de Blanca de Castilla, y accedió al Trono al morir su padre en 1226. Dada su corta edad, la Regencia recayó en la reina madre, en cuyas manos dejó luego Luis la gobernación del reino, desde que fuera declarado mayor de edad en 1234 hasta 1242. Probablemente fue también la influencia de su madre la que le hizo profundamente religioso, consagrándose a la tarea de reinar con firme apego a los principios cristianos. Consolidó el poder de la Corona imponiéndose sobre los señores feudales y sobre su aliado, el rey de Inglaterra; la victoria en la cruzada contra los albigenses hizo posible la posterior extensión de los dominios de la Corona francesa hasta el Mediterráneo.

[fotograrte]

(vía La Coronación de Napoléon, de Jean Louis David (detalle) / Napoleon’s coronation, by Jean Louis David (detail) – FOTOGRARTE)

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Charles-Nicolas Cochin (French, 1715-1790) Funeral for Marie-Thérèse of Spain, Dauphine of France, in the Church of Nôtre Dame, Paris, on November 24, 1746, ca. 1746 The Cleveland Museum of Art

As an official draftsman to the king, Charles-Nicolas Cochin was responsible for documenting royal events, festivities, and ceremonies. When the Spanish princess Marie-Thérèse, wife of Louis XV’s eldest son, died in childbirth, she was given two lavish funerals: one at the Church of Saint Denis, and another, represented in this drawing, at Notre Dame in Paris. Cochin’s drawing shows how the interior of the gothic cathedral was theatrically redecorated in the current rococo style. Beneath the majestic canopy in the center of the nave, an ornate arched structure, a baldequin, contains the princess’s coffin.

[scottsbifh]

Cathédrale Nôtre-Dame de Paris on 12.8 posted to FB group I love Paris by Vong Sopheap

[chez-mimich]

Parigi, dicembre 2024. La prima volta che vidi Nôtre Dame, fu il 24 aprile del 1980, cioè quarantacinque anni fa. Era una giornata uggiosa e l’uggia sembrava essere anche dentro la cattedrale. Del resto è così che mi aspettavo fosse e così volevo vederla, “incrostata” della sua storia e della sua leggenda (da Maurice de Sully a Napoleone nella grande tela di David da Victor Hugo al “Gobbo di Nôtre Dame” del film della Disney). Insomma Nôtre Dame doveva essere cupa. Affascinante e cupa. Nemmeno Violet-le-Duc era riuscito nell’impresa di imbellettarla un po’ e farla sembrare più leggera. Quella vista questa mattina è una Nôtre Dame strappata dalle tenebre della leggenda, ma chenon ha perso nulla della sua bellezza. Non era certo il nero-fumo delle candele millenarie o l’umidità a renderla un capolavoro assoluto. In fondo anche la statuaria della Grecia Classica era policroma e quelle che vediamo oggi sono statue che semplicemente non erano stata concepite così. Ben tornata Nostra Signora! Onore ai francesi che se non hanno saputo proteggerla, l’hanno meravigliosamente salvata.

[scherzokinn]

i hate those fucks saying the reopening of nôtre-dame was "ruined" because of the ""terrible organ music"", completely ignoring the entire context of what the instrument stands for. it was not a lullaby for your soft ears, it was a showcase for the resurrection of one of the finest instruments in the world done within the context of OUR culture. if you think it was a disgrace because you think it was demonic instead of heavenly or whatever the hell you literally know nothing of french catholic organ music and you should shut your big mouth up. leave us alone and go back to listening to canon in d please and thank you

[googledocsdyke]

nôtre-dame basilica, montreal

[michameinmicha]

Please reblog if you vote :*

[adelemadouce]

Palace Whispers

It was to be the greatest event of the 19th century - the coronation of Napoléon as Emperor of the French! Not in Aix-la-Chapelle or Reims, but in Paris, in Nôtre Dame! And His Holiness Pope Pius himself came to Paris to crown Napoléon!

Th imperial court had moved from Saint Cloud back to the Tuileries. Since my rank as a lady-in-waiting to the Empress was in the lower category as simple "Dame du Palais", I had far less importance than the "Dame d'honneur", the "Dame d'atour", or the "Dame d'accompagner". So the busy preparations for the coronation only affected me peripherally. But since everyone was so excited, the mood at court was more than brilliant! I enjoyed my service to the Empress, although I always -always! - entered her apartments with the trembling fear of meeting "him"! But the Emperor was so busy that he seldom came to see us. Once he appeared when I was playing the harp. The Empress never entered her salon until after eleven in the morning. Then she would chat with us about fashion or gossip. Some of the ladies were embroidering, someone was reading something, or I was playing the harp. When the Emperor came and I was playing a melody by Salieri, I jumped up and curtsied to the Emperor like all the ladies. But the Emperor did not notice us, so I allowed to continue plucking my harp. I only glanced at him once. My heart was pounding! It was magnificent to see how lovingly the imperial couple treated each other. Aunt Joséphine beamed at the Emperor so tenderly that one couldn't help but smile. But then my eyes fell on Madame de Vaudey and she looked at the Emperor not tenderly, but with pure desire! I saw a real greed for him in her eyes. It was almost indecent! The Emperor only gave her a brief glance. But her cheeks glowed with satisfaction! Élisabeth de Vaudey had everything I didn't have: she was tall, blonde, with big breasts that she juggled so skillfully in her cleavage as if they were about to sprang out at any moment. It was indeed fascinating to watch her, she loved to move her soft body with her slim waist and round bottom were more than provocative. But her voice sometimes sounded vulgar, too loud and exaggerated. Élisabeth had a self-confidence that I could only dream of. Her singing voice was really beautiful, but she never asked me to accompany her singing on the harp. She ignored me, never greeted me, never spoke to me. It seemed that she would never forgive me for the magical moment when I wore the Emperor's coat. The Empress herself was not at all jealous of the incident. "You looked so sweet, Adèle! All of Paris is talking about the Emperor's gallantry! Parisians love that kind of thing...and why not!" I remained a child to her, little Adèle, whom she had to protect.

One afternoon, however, the Emperor suddenly burst into the Empress's salon, beaming with joy! We were embroidering, nibbling on pastries and drinking a glass of Anisette. It was a somewhat boring afternoon, which was saved by the visit of the Emperor. We were still kneeling in our curtsy when I heard the Emperor say to Joséphine: "The Pope has arrived in Fontainebleau!" He took his wife's hand and kissed it passionately, with his eyes closed. Joséphine smiled happily. "Mesdames...the Pope is in Fontainebleau!" We applauded, and the Emperor finally looked at us. I quickly looked back at my embroidery. A minute or two passed...then the Emperor unexpectedly came to the small table where I was sitting with Félicité. He reached for my glass of Anisette, smelled it, took a sip, took another sip and then asked me: "Madame Duchâtel, do you know that Italian melody....mia dolce ragazza...avanti...facciamo l'amore...avanti...mia dolce ragazza...la...la...la..." He hummed the song loudly to himself. I looked up at him, uncertainly. "No, Your Majesty, unfortunately I do not know that melody." Then he looked at the Empress and said: "I can't get that damn melody out of my head!" Completely unexpectedly, Élisabeth then called out: "Sire, I know that melody...mia dolce ragazza..." she began to sing. The Emperor nodded, but turned around and slowly walked towards the door. I don't know what demon came over me at that moment, but I reached for my glass and put my lips exactly where the Emperor's mouth had touched the glass before! I closed my eyes blissfully for a second, then looked up at him. The Emperor was watching me. He smiled, knowingly!

Only when he had gone did I take the glass from my lips, but kept it in my hand. Félicité had seen everything! She looked at me questioningly, but said nothing. Élisabeth had seen it too. When the Empress was distracted by Madame de Rémusat and Madame de Luçay, Élisabeth approached me. She leaned towards me and hissed like a cat: "Don't get any ideas...the Emperor is only interested in me!"

A few days later Églée came to me as I was tuning the harp in the Empress's salon. "Félicité told me about the incident with Élisabeth. You have to be careful, Adèle!" Églée sat down next to me. She continued in a quiet voice. "You won't find any friends among the ladies-in-waiting. Especially not if the Emperor or Empress favors you! You'll arouse envy and resentment...you don't want that, do you!" I shook my head violently. "No. Certainly not!" - "Good! You really have to be careful of Élisabeth, she's very scheming. Besides....she's a whore." I looked at Églée in surprise. "Just because she's sleeping with the Emperor?" That was my only conclusion. "No, but she's only doing it for money...not for love! Rapp told me something...you won't believe it!" I bit my lower lip expectantly. I already knew the most important thing for me - that Élisabeth didn't love the Emperor! I was infinitely relieved! And, of course, excited to hear what would happen next. Églée told me, not without pleasure: "Élisabeth wrote a letter to the Emperor...she was in financial difficulties...her creditors had given her a deadline. If she could not raise 30,000 Francs within twenty-four hours she would end up in debtors' prison. She would rather kill herself than go to debtors' prison! The Emperor was shocked! He sent Rapp to her with the money. But when Rapp entered her salon, he saw to his great surprise that Madame de Vaudey had not fallen into despair, but was sitting happily with several gentlemen at the gaming table, enjoying champagne! Rapp immediately turned back with the money and reported to the Emperor. Napoléon was furious!"

I had never heard such an exciting story! It sounded like something out of a novel. "Has the Emperor ended his affair with Élisabeth?" Églée shook her head. "I asked General Rapp that too, but he said that she might still have a chance with the Emperor...he's very fond of her!" Églée sighed. "Perhaps he loves her! Who knows? But one thing's for sure...Élisabeth will try everything to get the Emperor back! She's so raffinée...she knows these tricks that make men submissive." I looked questioningly at Églée. "Tricks...what do you mean?" I really had no idea what she meant by that. "Oh, you little sheep!" said Églée. "Don't you know that some women do things that men don't get from their wives? It's always been that way. A man's mistress must control him through her tricks in the art of love-making; only then can she keep him and his money! And as for Élisabeth, I can only hope that this affair will soon be over and that our dear Empress will not find out the least bit about it!"

But some time later a scandal broke out at the court of Empress Joséphine! The morning began like any other day, with tea and brioches and only two important topics to discuss: the coronation and our needle-work for Hortense's second son, the little Prince Napoléon Louis, who was only a few weeks old. I was working on a white bonnet with rabbits and ducks on a colorful meadow of flowers. I liked it very much, so I eagerly embroidered it. Églée sewed a tiny hussar jacket, for which Félicité sewed the trousers. We were all happily at work, when Élisabeth, who was practicing a melody on the harp, suddenly got up and left the salon. It might not have been noticed if she had not left this sudden silence behind her. Églée nudged me and whispered: "Something is going on..." I looked over, the Empress was discussing something with Madame de Rémusat. Aunt Joséphine seemed agitated. She kept whispering to Madame de Rémusat, who tried to calm her down. She finally succeeded and the Empress looked again at the book she had been reading. There was silence for a while. Suddenly the Empress jumped up, threw the book on the floor and said loudly: "That's enough! I can't stand it anymore!" She walked quickly to the door, elegantly lifting her train. Madame de Rémusat also jumped up and ran after her. "Your Majesty...please stay calm...I beg you!" She sounded desperate. All we saw was the rustling of the robes disappearing through the doorway. Silence remained. None of the ladies dared to say a word. Only Églée grinned. "I told you...this is the most exciting place in the world and I don't want to be anywhere else!" She continued sewing, still grinning. Old Madame de Chevreuse had fallen asleep, only Madame de La Rochefoucauld whispered eagerly with Madame de Soustras. These ladies came from the Ancien Regime, they came directly from the court of Marie Antoinette and were accordingly blasé. They wanted nothing to do with us young court ladies of the lower nobility or Bourgeoisie. Églée called them disparagingly "the old powder puffs!" The little gold clock on the mantelpiece tinkled, perhaps ten minutes had passed when suddenly the door was thrown open and the Empress entered. Her face was streaming with tears. She ran to her dressing room and immediately disappeared behind the door. At the same moment the Emperor appeared in our salon. His face was contorted with anger and of snow-white colour, his hair was disheveled. He had clenched his hands into fists and shouted: "You will not run away, Madame!" We could not so quickly sink into a curtsy as the Emperor strode across the room and disappeared into Joséphine's dressing room. And then we heard the Emperor shouting at his wife: "I'm fed up with your spying! You have no right whatsoever to interfere in my affairs! If I want to fuck my whores after breakfast, then that's not of your business! Do you hear me!!! I fuck whoever and whenever I want!" Then there was silence for a moment and we heard the Empress crying. Églée bit her lips with a grin and looked at Madame de La Rochefoucauld, who was holding a handkerchief to her open mouth. She seemed close to fainting. Then the door opened. "I want a divorce, Madame! Pack your things, you are leaving the Tuileries today!" Now we managed to curtsy in time. But the Emperor walked straight past us and disappeared. We looked at each other helplessly, neither of us said anything. From the Empress's dressing room we heard her loud crying. Madame de Rémusat finally went to her and closed the door. Madame de Chevreuse was still asleep.

We never saw Élisabeth de Vaudey again!

[elparisiendiary]

Nôtre dame de Paris

[claudehenrion]

Trêve olympique anticipée...

Ah ! Enfin le grand jour de l'atroce hidalgo est arrivé ! Avec un bon trimestre d'avance sur l'événement, et littéralement rendue ivre par son pouvoir de nuisance, elle vient de décider de commencer à emm... quiquiner les parisiens. C'est dimanche que cette autoritariste pathologique et ennemie de.. l'auto, va détourner les lignes d'autobus (ce qu'elle rêverait de pouvoir faire avec les lignes de métro !). Parisiens, mes frères, vous n'êtes pas sortis de… ce qui vous attend ! C'est LE sujet de toutes les con-versations (Oui, je sais, je la fais souvent, cette césure... Mais c'est tellement bon d'oser l'orthographe qui convient !) dans tous les dîners-en-ville... surtout germanopratins...

Parce que, comme le suggérait hier Alain Rémond dans ''la Croix'', on va finir par les avoir, en fin de compte et de conte, ces sacrés jeux olympiques. Vous en pensez quoi, vous ? ''Vous, je sais pas, mais moi (comme aimait à le répéter Anne Roumanoff)... c'est comme vous'' : je suis complètement d'accord. Même si... bon... y aurait sans doute à redire, ici ou là, même là-bas, sur ceci ou cela et le reste, mais c'est tout de même les jeux olympiques, quoi ! Faut pas déc... On va les avoir en France (et même partout, et de préférence n'importe où), et même à Paris, ce qui n'est pas rien, pour la première fois depuis 100 ans pile --et face ! Et même que... les plus coûteux de l'histoire !

Non ? Eh ! ben... si ! Attendez, ne me faites pas dire ce que je ne dis pas : vous avez raison de râler : on a toujours raison de râler. Par principe. Pour ainsi dire : préventivement : ça peut pas faire de mal, de râler. Et d'ailleurs, je le dis sans vraie fausse honte : moi aussi, je râle ! Dame ! On est français ou on ne l'est pas, non... et ''de souche'', dans mon cas ! Et si les français arrêtaient de râler, autant mettre tout de suite la clé sous la porte, quelle que soit la clé et quelle que soit la porte ! C'est comme si un ''rosbif'' se mettait à ne plus boire de cervoise tiède !

Mais bon ! Là, on parle des Jeux Olympiques : c'est pas rien, non ? La fête, le spectacle, le suspense, les records des autres nations et leurs médailles, les 3 nôtres dont on parlera comme si elle étaient 24 ou 48, les touristes, le bruit, les pick-pockets débarqués du monde entier pour piller les chinetoques et les japs, les imprévus (jamais dans le bon sens, vous avez remarqué ?), Edith Piaf massacrée (on prend le pari ?), les prix qui s'envolent à frôler le ciel (sauf le 7 ème)... tout ça, et tout... le grand frisson mondialisé, quoi.. On n'est pas aux jeux olympiques pour rien : ''i'' faut suivre... le train, et ''L'important, c'est de participer''. Et pour le reste... on pense ce qu'on pense qu'on pense, en général, même en particulier.

Mais si vous voulez que je vous dise ce que je pense que je devrais vous dire, je pense que si on n'avait pas eu à organiser les Jeux pour jouer à s'amuser à organiser des jeux, je serais aussi content de ne pas râler de ne pas avoir de raisons de râler... que d'avoir, aujourd'hui, raison de râler puisqu'on les a eus. Car si on ne les avais pas eus, qu'est-ce qu'on aurait adorer râler parce qu'on n'a même pas été fichu de les avoir ! Bon. Je crois qu'on s'est dit à peu près tout ce qu'il y avait à dire, non ? On est d'accord ?

Il ne reste qu'une correction à faire : tous nos cuistres-aux-manettes, nos pontifes, nos pros de ''l'énanisme'', nos gaspilleurs de sommes ''dingues'' dont ils n'ont pas le premier sou... confondent, à longueur de discours emmerdant, les Jeux Olympiques avec une ''Olympiade''. S'ils avaient ne serait-ce que la moitié du début d'une culture historique, ils sauraient que le mot ''Olympiade'' n'a et ne peut avoir qu'un seul sens : la période de 4 années qui sépare deux ''Jeux''. Et ''Les Jeux olympiques d'été'' qui seront célébrés à Paris du 26 juillet au 11 août 2024 seront ''les Jeux de la XXXIIIᵉ Olympiade'' (moderne). Et là, vous avez raison de râler : c'est stupide ! C'en est à croire que, comme le disait l'autre, ''la culture française n'existe pas'' !

Tout de même, on peut aussi trouver normal de râler contre le prix prohibitif des trucs dans le genre ''quoi qu'il en coûte'' qui fleurissent à en être, pour beaucoup, déjà fanés avant même d'avoir fleuri... comme hidalgo, d'ailleurs. Comme je l'avais proposé à de nombreuses reprises ici-même, il aurait été sage de prévoir une ''rallonge'', en multipliant les budgets initiaux par ''π'' (nombre dit ''irrationnel'', qu'on peut arrondir à 3,14159265358979323846264338327950288419710, pour simplifier les calculs)... Le coût final de ces jeux va être croquignolet à comparer avec les ''engagements'' (?) initiaux.

Mais bon... n'en faisons pas un ''pataquès'' : depuis que la France n'est plus qu'une socialie puis une macronie (la différence est vraiment minime)... c'est tous les chiffres qui sont devenus fous, les dépenses de l'Etat, le soutien à des causes qui ne sont les nôtres en aucun cas (cf les explications rigoureusement ''non-convaincantes'' du chef de l'Etat, hier soir...), et les impôts ! Et il reste encore deux ans à tirer... avec peut-être à la clé une vraie guerre, provoquée, contre la Russie... le temps qu'elle nous écrabouille. Décidément, on n'a pas fini de ''raquer'' !

H-Cl.

[fotograrte]

(vía Vidrieras de Nôtre Dame: Capilla del Santo Sacramento y de San Jorge (detalle) – FOTOGRARTE)

[scottsbifh]

The word for 'arrow' in French is the same word as 'spire' in English: flèche. So this photo is of the spire from one of the towers of Nôtre Dame looking east over the east end of the Île de la Cité and the Île Saint Louis and the the right bank of Eastern Paris.

Arrow of  Notre Dame de Paris ,  1862

by  Charles Marville

[lucilethomas-blog]

When technology enlightens art

This week-end, with the reopening of the cathedral Nôtre-Dame, a lot of streets were closed in the center of Paris. Needless to say I completely forgot this detail when I went out and the difficulty to navigate forced me to reconsider my planning. After spending twenty minutes trying to cross the Seine, just as I was ready to accept my defeat and come home, I remembered a small show that I wanted to see.

This show was called Caillebotte in Light. It was a video mapping projected on the facade of the Orsay museum at nightfall, between 5:30pm to 10pm, from the 5th december to the 7th december. This projection was linked with the exhibition ‘’Caillebotte - Paint the men’’, presented all autumn in the Orsay museum. This exhibition wants to highlight how Caillebotte interrogated himself about the masculine figures and their role at the end of the XIXe century. The creative projection was the result of a partnership between the students in Motion Design of the Goblin School and the students of the National Conservatoire of Music and Danse. Divided in eleven sequences of 1min30, the main goal of this project was to invite people to rediscover the impressionist aesthetic with a creation that needed both art and technology.

reinterprations of ''Partie de bateau''

To create their artworks, the students of the Goblin School took reference on the paintings of the exhibition. People could recognize for example the men of the painting ‘’Les Raboteurs’’,  or a man navigating like in ‘’Partie de bateau’’. These emblematic characters and scenes of the artwork of Caillebotte are here reinterpreted to make them a look more actual, with different textures and styles. However, the students weren’t limited by Caillebotte’s paintings. We could see in several sequences different additions, like for example with color schemes. Indeed, it was not rare to see warm tones, with pink and orange, even though those colors don’t really appear in the exhibition. Thanks to the night, those colors easily caught the eye of the spectators, making them look even more saturated. Some students also took the liberty to introduce new visual elements, like classical dancers or sailing boats, to develop a new universe around the paintings and their subjects. Using the arcades and clocks of the facade, the projections played from left to right like a real cartoon.

Moreover, in order to be as accessible as possible, these representations were free and no reservations were needed. Since it happened in the late afternoon, people could pass by after their afternoon activities and before dining, which is oftenly a moment where there are not a lot of things to do. Also, the show was visible on the quays of the Seine, next to the Tuileries Garden. As one of the most famous gardens in Paris, it was very easy to find which improved the accessibility of the projection. 

In brief, I appreciated this show. Short but beautiful, I felt  like it’s quite rare to see such projects on historical monuments. It was interesting to see how paintings that are a century old can have new life thanks to modern technologies. The fact that this projection was free, contrary to the exhibition, allowed a large range of people to easily come and discover the artwork of this not-so-famous painter. The only dark spot on the picture was the rain and the wind, definitely too cold, but I’m not sure the students could have done something about that !