Bonjour ça va ?
I’m writing this from the ragged ends of COVID. I can now say firsthand that it remains to be a mean, mean virus. That strange post-illness twilight zone seems to drag on and on—I’m just saturated by fatigue! But my five days of isolation are up, and I am now free to resume my life and the delights of summer.
As loyal readers may recall, I struggled to settle back into life in Paris upon return from Australia. It was cold, it was dark, it was cramped—it was just not Sydney summer. So, to lift the blues, I decided to throw myself into what France does so much better than my great home Down Under: the arts. I set myself the challenge of exploring a different museum each day, documenting how each one made me feel, with the goal of visiting all 136. Luckily my depression lifted well before I made it through the list and so my little project was put on the backburner, but the exercise did make me realise that tourists are missing out on so much by just sticking to the big three (the Louvre, Musée D’Orsay, Centre Pompidou). There are far more intimate, more insightful experiences to be had by those who dare venture off the beaten track.
The Lesser-Known Museums of Paris
As I’ve mentioned before, France has long been accused of harbouring a constitutional nostalgia for the glory days when the country was still considered a world power. I love this quote from Sciences Po professor Betrand Batrie who compares France’s geopolitical attitudes to that of:
“an old aristocrat who’s now forced to dine next to a peasant who’s become rich, and he finds that unbearable.”
The fact that France is 5th in the world for the number of museums nationwide (after the USA, Germany, Japan, and Russia—all countries with significantly larger populations) is testament to the fanatical way in which the French archive, document, and claw at the past. It is true that the country has a rich and textured history deserved of trophy cabinets but these historical institutions are hardly balanced out by more forward-looking establishments like think tanks and emerging art centres. Their passion lies in the spectacles of yore. My very amateur assessment is that it’s only under Macron’s urgency to modernise the country that the pendulum has begun to swing the other way.
Like most great French traditions, the culture of museums started with the French Revolution. Possessions seized from the clergy and upper classes were showcased in museums in the name of educating the masses and breaking down class divides. In 1792, the Louvre was founded to house much of the pillaged loot and to exhibit the belongings of the fallen Royal family. Its original modus operandi was to be a place that “elevated souls, warmed hearts, and illustrated the glory and power of France.”
The advent of the Fifth Republic in the mid-20th Century would explode the number of museums across the capital as each President took himself as a culture vulture. Georges Pompidou opened his namesake centre, Valéry Giscard d’Estaing left his mark with Musée d’Orsay, and Jacques Chirac cemented his legacy with Musée du quai Branly.
These are all monoliths of museums and if you’ve never visited the Louvre or Musée d’Orsay they should be your priority, but I’d set aside some time to visit a lesser-known museum for a more intimate experience of Paris. Many of these museums are dedicated to single artists and located in private residences or are formed of large private collections that were donated to the state.
Here are a few of my must-visit recommendations, if you’re looking for something a little different or away from the crowds:
Musée Nissim de Camondo: This was the first stop on my anti-depression tour of Paris and I’ve been back three times since. Located next to the Parc Monceau, the Musée was once the house of the wealthy banker Count Moise de Camondo. Upon his death in 1935, his house and its collections were bequeathed to the Musée des Arts Décoratifs. Everything about the house is gilded and ornate but I think because it was preserved just as the family left it, it feels soothingly personal and homely.
For fans of the British potter Edmund de Waal, you may recognise the family name from his memoir The Hare with Amber Eyes: A Hidden Inheritance (one of my favourite books of all time)—the Camondos were his relatives. De Waal was invited to return to the house last year and he created a series of vessels in honour of his family that were then purposefully placed throughout the Musée.
Musée Carnavalet: This little gem of a museum in the heart of the Marais is dedicated to the history of Paris. It was closed for the best part of 10 years for renovations and just reopened last year. It hosts some fabulous temporary exhibitions (Henri Cartier Bresson, Marcel Proust) but I head there for the permanent collection (which is free!). The museum is just one giant curiosity cabinet of artefacts and wonders. There’s everything from Roman ruins to a collection of shoes from the 16th Century and old intact apothecary shopfronts from the 1800s.
There’s also a delicious café/restaurant/bar tucked into the central courtyard if you need to rest weary museum legs. It’s one of my favourite sneaky spots for aperitif in the Marais as the quartier is notoriously crowded.
Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature: Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature is one of my hot spots where I always take visitors. Although it is, literally, the hunting museum, it is strangely tasteful and enjoyable, even for those of us who are staunch opponents of the archaic pastime of shooting animals. Across several levels of an old hotel particulier, it houses a weird and wonderful collection of taxidermy and peculiarities like the world’s only ‘unicorn horn.’ No description can do it justice, just head there for yourself.
Musée Bourdelle: Musée Bourdelle is well and truly off the beaten track but it’s worth the trek to the 15th arrondisment to visit the old studios of sculptor Antoine Bourdelle. The Museum is home to the sculptor’s creaky old ateliers and overgrown garden, but additional rooms have been built to house the more monumental marble and bronze sculptures. Bourdelle’s own works are flanked by masterpieces from his personal collection by the likes of Eugène Delacroix, Rodin, and Auguste Dominique Ingres. And best of all, it’s free.
Le Corbusier: There are surprisingly several opportunities to see the work of prolific French architect Le Corbusier around Paris. Die-hard fans should make the pilgrimage to Poissy, a suburb just outside of Paris, to visit the Villa Savoye. Constructed by Le Corbusier and his cousin Pierre Jeanneret between 1928 and 1931, the building is exemplar of the architect’s manifesto Five Points of Architecture.
For those not so keen on venturing beyond le périphique, there are two opportunities to visit examples of his architecture in Paris. There’s La Villa Roche and the architect’s personal apartment and studio, both nestled in the 16th arrondisment.
If you do venture over that way, spend some time exploring the surrounding area. It’s one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods of Paris but it’s also home to some rare examples of Art Nouveau architecture that stick out like a sore thumb against the standard Haussmannian façades.
Bourgogne: Savigny-Lès-Beaune
For some reason, all I can think about this week is the mythical wine region of Bourgogne which I’ve strangely never touched upon in this newsletter. (It is now very passé to anglicise it as Burgundy so stick to the French appellation svp).
I had lofty ambitions of discussing the entirety of the region in one newsletter but given Wine God Jasper Morris’ seminal book on Bourgogne is some 800 pages long, it may take me several newsletters to truly crack the ‘Burgs’ (as it is affectionately referred to be Australian winemakers in the region).
I will warn anyone heading to Bourgogne with the hopes of visiting winemakers that the region is notoriously private. Most domains are small and family-owned and don’t employ someone to man the cellar doors. Very few winemakers (and no-one worth your while) will welcome you unannounced, as they might in California or Australia. And to make an appointment, you’ll most certainly require a connection of some sort (like someone from the industry) to help get your foot through the door.
Burgundian wines are the most sought-after in the world and come with a hefty price tag. I think I’ve recommended in a previous newsletter to never ever buy a cheap Burgundy wine (you’re better off going for Beaujolais) but I’d thought we’d start our exploration of Bourgogne with a lesser-known village of the region where there are a few stellar young winemakers and whose bottles are still affordable: Savigny-Lès-Beaune. I think it’s a really good starting point for those of you wanting to get into Bourgogne wines without paying the price tag of a Romanée-Conti.
Savigny-Lès-Beaune is a commune located in the sub-region of the Côtes de Beaune (which is part of the famous Côte d’Or—the most important wine region in Bourgogne.) As the name suggests, it’s located just next to the town of Beaune (pronounced ‘Bone’) which is perhaps the most famous town in the region (along with Dijon).
Bourgogne > Côte d’Or > Côtes de Beaune > Savigny-Lès-Beaune
What makes Savigny-Lès-Beaune so different to its neighbouring subregions (and why it’s been so hard to make good wines here) is because the soil is a mix of clay, limestone, bedrock, and gravel. Climate change has actually helped out little Savigny as the warmth has made it easier for the grapes to mature (although in recent years yields have been decimated by hail and frost). Pinot Noir and Chardonnay are the main grape varieties of the commune; most wines made here are red.
Although communes like Savigny-Lès-Beaune were previously underappreciated, a new crop of winemakers—desperate to get in on the Burgundian craze but unable to afford vines in the more prestigious subregions—have moved in and are really spicing things up.
There are a few big names that you should always look out for (Chandon de Briailles, Domaine Simon Bize et Fils, Domaine Jean-Marc et Hughes Pavelot), but I wanted to shine the spotlight on two young guns that are doing things differently:
Chanterêves
Husband-and-wife duo, Tomoko and Guillaume, are behind the maison de vin Chanterêves. Tomoko is originally from Japan and met her husband Guillaume whilst working at Domaine Simon Bize. The two started their own production in 2010, buying their first vines in 2020. The couple make both red and whites from Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Aligoté grape varieties.
Tomoko credits their success to the fact they are strangers with a different approach to the region than that of the centuries-old family domains who are set in their ways. And I couldn’t agree more. I’m urging you to snap up their bottles if you happen to come across them! I’ve found this site selling a 2019 Chardonnay for those of you in Australia; in Europe this website seems to have a small selection available.
Le Grappin: Andrew and Emilie Nielsen
An Ausgundian! (An Australian in Burgundy). Andrew Nielsen was working in advertising when he tried a Bourgogne Grand Cru and decided winemaking was his calling. Nielsen is a négociant which means that he doesn’t have his own vines but buys grapes from other winemakers to produce his wine. Nielsen’s goal was to seek out special sites in the over-looked, under-appreciated reaches of Burgundy.” His job as a winemaker was to help the wines reach their full potential. Everything is done by hand. I find his reds are bright with spicy red fruits whilst his whites are saline and fresh. Honestly, his wines are a really great entry point into the world of Bourgogne.
Nielsen also makes “bagnums,” which are basically chic goon sacks. I’ve yet to try one but they look like a lot of a fun.
If you’re in the UK, his wines (and bagnums) are available directly for purchase from his website. In Paris, I’ve seen his wines at Le Barav but a list of stockists/restaurants can be found here. And for those of you in Sydney his wines seem to be everywhere!
One final note… Writing this newsletter is a labour of pure love so if you enjoy my writing (and are able to) please consider Buying Me a Coffee. It’s a wonderful initiative that allows people to support creatives, like myself, with a small donation at the price of a coffee.
A la prochaine !