Montmartre, a place of my utopian dreams. I have long fixated on times and places I coulda, shoulda, and woulda lived in, and this was one of those places. Similar in spirit to some of the other bohemian artist enclaves of both my own country as well as some of the others I have visited, Montmartre fit the bill. A once remotely located and inexpensive place for folks to congregate, home to working class people, as well as people with a wildly independent, spirited, and artistic bent, it was one of those rare "space and place" times that created a unique energy force that birthed an artistic movement like no other.
Expressions like "revolutionary politics," and "underground or alternative culture" came to be associated with the place in the late 19th and early 20th century. And oh those "Avante-garde artists" or so they later were called; who knows the monikers they had when they were drinking, drugging, sleeping around, and painting prostitutes.
This decadent society of raucous intellectuals and artists are largely replaced by wide-eyed, history-loving tourists. I don't know if all were like me, forgoing the stuffy stroll through gallery after gallery in the Louvre for this persipitous journey up the Mont. It was well worth it. I loved it up there as you will see by the plethora of pictures that I have been lost in for weeks now.
A great piece on Montmartre put out by the Met:
http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/mont/hd_mont.htm
and another by Travel France online:
http://www.travelfranceonline.com/montmartre-village-place-tertre-history/
We hung on the Northern slope, which is to say we did not go to the top or visit the more touristy Basilique du Sacre-Coeur area. How both this highly christian (Catholic) minor Basillica and the radical socialist Paris Commune of 1871 could co-exist on this butte Montmartre is beyond my understanding.
This schism in the French social order is one I think most likely still exists today. The French Revolotion started the change and the secularists, socialists, and radicals have kept pace with ensuring the country/city remain progressive and free. And for this I am glad, and for the bohemian spirit that still clings to the Northern slope I am also grateful.
My independent, secular, bohemian soul was at peace on this hill, and will forever be remembered.
For those wanting a more comprehensive take on the area, here is a blog that does that:
http://www.aparisguide.com/montmartre/
This convergence of streets Montmartre Rue Norvins, Rue des Saules, Place Jean-Baptiste Clement is at the base of Montmartre and then we headed up North from here.
"The museum is housed in buildings, which are three centuries old, the Hotel Demarne and the Maison du Bel Air. It was home to many famous artists and writers..." It was built in the seventeenth century as the Bel Air House and is the oldest building in Montmartre.
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| There is still even a piece of wild forest behind the house and next to the vineyards. It is mostly inhabited by cats. |
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| Clos Montmartre Vinyard; the vineyard actually still produces a few hundred bottles of wine which are auctioned off each year. There used to be many vineyards in Montmartre and the wine they produced was called la Goutte d’Or (Drop of Gold). Still today, 1,760 vines generate over 500 liters (130 gallons) of wine each year, the profits from which are donated to Parisian charities. |
The vineyard grows on the north side of the Montmartre hill, along the Rue Saint-Vincent and rue des Saules .
On either side are two buildings famous Montmartre: the cabaret Lapin Agile and the Museum of Montmartre .
The Cabaret as it looked in 1900 and 1904
and how it looks in 2015.
But let's back up and look into the historic period of the utopic, yet bloody, Paris Commune of 1871. The memory of this revolutionary and socialist government that briefly ruled Paris still haunts the paved streets of Montmartre today. The Commune came in with dreams of a new world, of a secular state and free education. Just 72 days later, the events of the “bloody week” crushed all hopes of a new beginning.
I say, "VIVA LES FEDERES!"
Then there were all the paintings of the place:
And of course there is Pierre Auguste Renoir. He wasn't in the crazy partying gang, wasn't radical or wild, but he was sure as hell an amazing painter and a truly dedicated artist. Starting in the Impressionist Movement, which really were the original rebels for bucking the government backed and sponsored snooty "salons," and mounting their own independent exhibitions, his paintings reflect a sort of tender response or impression that the world had on the man. A man from humble beginnings (just a mere mortal I say), he suffered terribly from rheumatoid arthritis and yet he painted on for 3 decades with the crippling condition. OF COURSE HE IS AN IDOL! How could he not be?
And being the mere mortal that he was, and flawed as we all are, he has some baggage and I some unanswered question about his first model (and never wife) and that model's child- reported to be Renoirs, although he never in life acknowledged her (sadness right, which leds to conflicted emotions, which stirs me up and leaves me indecisive). Also of note, is that Mr. Renoir, although he did eventually marry her, had an out-of-wedlock son with his eventual wife. Interesting, very interesting.
Renoir's actual home is one of these beside the vineyard, it's at # 6 Rue de l'Abreuvoir. The house went on sale in 2008 for about 5.5 million!
We were so thankful to see this exhibit at the Musee Montmartre, it was awesome. However, as we found in many places, there was not a catalog for us to purchase so we could review and re-imagine in our dotage, so I tried to capture it all on my smartphone to dump here. I know I shall never pass that way again and I truly want to always remember this place.
And then there was ALL the other artists and stuff...
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I often wondered who, what, why, and when it was that some of the artists fame rose higher and longer from this group of talented folk. Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa, also known as Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec was one of those I wondered about. Exposure as a kid to an adults take on history does little for the trajectory that ones oneself later embarks upon, except as a speck of a memory which appears later as a blur of vague knowledge. That's how it was with this funny little man. I think I kinda had heard or knew of him. And then here he was!
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| Something people thought noble and aristocratic back in the day, Henri's family suffered the double misfortune of descending wealth and illness from too much inbreeding. Now how would you like that as a legacy!?! You can't see it in this upper body portrait, but the man had deformities of the legs and a condition/syndrome that eventually would be named after him= his upper body grew while his legs remained that of a child's. His adult height was only 5'1", and to make matters worse, it was also alleged that he is also reported to have had hypertrophied genitals (not sure if this made his matters worse or not, mayhaps he was a curiousity to those prostitutes that he seemed to love so much). |
When the nearby Moulin Rouge cabaret opened its doors, Toulouse-Lautrec was commissioned to produce a series of posters. Thereafter, the cabaret reserved a seat for him, and displayed his paintings.
Talk about tragedy. Lautrec's little life was filled with it.
Toulouse-Lautrec spent much time in brothels, where he was accepted by the prostitutes and madams to such an extent that he often moved in, and lived in a brothel for weeks at a time. He shared the lives of the women who made him their confidant, painting and drawing them at work and at leisure. Lautrec recorded their intimate relationships, which were often lesbian. A favourite model was a red-haired prostitute called Rosa la Rouge from whom he allegedly contracted syphilis.
An alcoholic for most of his adult life, Toulouse-Lautrec was placed in a sanatorium shortly before his death. He died from complications due to alcoholism and syphilis at the family estate in Malrome, fewer than three months before his 37th birthday.
Little did I know of the many halls and bars and raucious times that these Parisians were engaged in. Was it art? Was it productive? Who gets to decide it? History, I guess. It certainly was a throwing off of the stuffy, restricting, rigors of "acceptable" society and forging a new, anti-establishment way. Right or wrong I sure wish I could have hung at these places with these people, if only for a little while.
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| In my fantasy mind I inserted my husband playing the guitar (not a far stretch given the looks, sort of dubious given the lack of talent on the guitar, but heck, it's a fantasy), and I am the lady in the checkers to the left- surrounded by men and smoking a cigarette. Viva la decadence! |
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| I always wanted to be a chanteuse because I just adored the word! |
Another place/cabaret I would have loved to hang out in was the Quart'Z'Arts.
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Oh those bohemians! Mocking the world and creating scandal seemed to be their thing (and partying of course).
       
A sanctuary for independent thinking- now how cool is that? I so would have rocked this place. If only...
    
My two favorite pictures from the Musee:
 
The story attached to this picture by Vincent is such a great one. Can you imagine what it must have been like for Mr. Tanguy? I so wonder what he did with his collection? I never could find out, and so it will remain a mystery for me. Vincent's time on the Butte was in 1886 when he moved in with his brother Theo. At first they lived at 25 rue Victor Massé, at the foot of the Butte Montmartre. Later they moved to Montmartre, living at 54 Rue Lepic on the Butte Montmartre. It has variously reported how the 2 years Van Gogh spent in Paris, and that time spent in Montmartre was a time of meeting many other artsits. But also, it was said that Vincent's behavior was irratic and troublesome. And another account has him cavoting with prostitutes and having an affair w/ a cabaret owner, an Italian woman who was a former artists' model.
We did not find the Van Gogh's apartment d/t time constraints, but after learning about how the bohemians were living up there, it was easy to imagine the 2 bachelor brothers frequenting brothels, bars, and cabaret's. It is easy to see how Theo could have picked up a case of syphilis that would kill him years later.
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One of the more fascinating stories I learned of from this wonderful museum in Montmartre was that of Suzanne Valdon.
Somebody wrote a book on her entitled "The Mistress of Montmartre" (June Rose, 1999). The title seems to fit as she was the unofficial Queen of the butte during the bohemian days. A meager beginning as an illegitimate child, raised by a single poor country-woman mother, Valdon was first a in the circus before arriving on the butte. She was provocative and young. But she was also smart, savvy, and resilient and she rose from being a model to being the first woman painter admitted to the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts. Now that is achievement!
            When Suzanne was 44, she began an affair with the painter André Utter, age 23 and a friend of her son. What an odd trio they must have made. Valdon divorced her stockbroker husband and married this man, who became more famous as the husband of Suzanne than as a painter himself. He was also Suzanne's business manager.  
The art! Oh the art, here is a sampling:
   
And the son. Oh the son!
  His face seems to belie the trouble and alcoholism that plagued his life. And yet, his art and cityscapes were and are viewed as being the best of his time.  
Whatever happened to this oddly compelling little trio? Well of course we know they died, but how and when. By the dates:
The Studio-Apartment home to Suzanne Valadon and Maurice Utrillo
At the height of artistic creation in Montmartre during the early 20th century, the artist studio situated on rue Cortot served as the site for artists such as the two fauve painters Emile Orthon Friesz and Raoul Dufy, as well as Émile Bernard (Gauguin’s companion), and the writers Léon Bloy and Pierre Reverdy. Suzanne Valadon, famously regarded as one of the first women painters of her generation, initially settled at 12 Cortot in 1898. She later returned in 1912, where she remained until 1926 with her son Maurice Utrillo and her partner André Utter. With respect to Utrillo’s work at the studio, he left behind unforgettable views of Montmartre.
    
I loved this reconstruction and the ability it gave me to feel like I was there and for a moment I could be a Bohemian artist who lived at the turn of the 20th century.
As we left the museum, I saw that the gate to the compound across the street was open and naturally my curiosity got the best of me and I wandered over. The gate was open because the man in the picture below had stepped out for a cigarette. I asked if he spoke English and he gave the nice, I-don't-mind- if-you-stupid-Americans-can't-speak-French reply, "a little."
So I asked him what the place was and he explained that it was a place for troubled adolescents. Then my interest was really piqued. I told him that was the work I did. After that he paused in thought, and then decisively told me to come inside (no pictures) and that he would take me to the director. As we entered what was like a courtyard, he explained this was their "end of the year party." A barbeque was in progress, and there was pumped-in music blaring from speakers as well as a stage set-up and one of those giant balloon bouncy porta-playhouse thingies. And adolescents all around.
The director was a youngish woman (30'ish) who explained that it was juvenile group home, but not the school part. These were adolescents who had been committed by the state for care. They lived in this compound, but went to school somewhere else. I did notice that there seemed to be more brown faces, both male and female.
As we exited the compound there came shouted dialogue from some boys on an upper deck of one of the buildings. My escort shouted back and then chuckled. He explained to me that the boys were busting him and asking about the chick he he had picked up on the street. He didn't tell me what he replied.
    
Try as I might I could not find out any more about the address (it's previous owners nor the current set-up), and I became very frustrated trying to find out about how Paris handles troubled adolescents and their care. Knowing that the Musee de Montmartre was once a 17th century country house, I am assuming I was grateful then for the kind gentleman and the quickie tour.
At the corner of Rue Cortot and Rue des Saules was a wonderful little cafe where we ate lunch outside and enjoyed watching the tourist climbing and exploring the butte. It was a glorious visit to my idealized utopian bohemian hangout of the late 1800's.
La Maison Rose at 2 Rue Abreuvoir, compact and tiny like our guest hotel, is considered a historic site. Translated as "The Rose House," it is refering to the area that was associated with Claude de La Rose (born 1645), a famous writer and actor of the time who purchased in 1680 the farmlands for his "vacation" country home which included 5 acres of land. The Museum of Montmarte is the oldest building left on the butte, and the restaurant was first a residence as depicted in the picture below. When it became a bistro or cafe I couldn't find.
 This Montmartre bistro is a house that was the subject of a lithograph by Maurice Utrillo (circa 1912). 
Dig this, the attached building ( Rue des Saules) is a place where Picasso frequented and the home for over forty years of Germaine Gargallo – the lady over whom Carlos Casagemas (Picasso’s best friend) killed himself. Germaine Gargallo (on of a trio of "easy-going" girl models up there on the hill) was depicted in Picasso’s 1905 painting that is down the street at the Lapin Agile (the rabbit wine place). Oh the drama! If you want to know more, I'd suggest a quick jump over to here:
Once there, click into "lot notes" and you'll find a brief but fascinating blurb on the drama and tragedy.
Another piece on Germaine + Picasso can be found here:
The Rue del"Abreuvoir is an old path dating back to the 1300's and known in the Bohemian days as the "trough path" because it led down to a watering hole.
This corner is was a popular spot for artist back in the day. As you can see some artist still try to find their inspiration from the spot (or make a few bucks of the tourists).
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