Seeing Paris through someone else’s lens

Even after a decade of owning property in Paris, I still get chills of anticipation when the plane’s tires touch down at Orly. (Yes, I use La Compagnie.) And while I am perfectly content being alone chez moi, I prefer to have company.  Besides, it’s fun to play host especially in such a magnificent city bursting with history, culture and endless deliciousness.   

On a recent pre-spring trip I invited my friend Kate Hanenberg to join me. She and I had traveled previously to Mexico, so I knew she was a fearless and infinitely fun traveler.  Kate is an architectural designer who proudly carries her unique skill set with her whenever she goes. This is how she views her universe. For Kate, the world is either a carefully (or poorly) designed system of materials, shapes, lights, and human interactions. 

Getting a new point of view

So how did our trip go? If I put aside the fact that Kate was recovering from an onset of tendonitis—and walked with a cane at about the same pace as an escargot—I can emphatically say that our Parisian stay was exceptionnelle.  Why? Because I was able to see my favorite foreign city through Kate’s perspective which differed from mine. 

From the get-go, I knew there would be surprises as Kate insisted on planning our trip.  She had been to Paris 25 years earlier, however, didn’t want to duplicate what she had seen before.  The only monument she wanted to revisit was Notre-Dame Cathedrale and see for the first time l’Hôtel de la Marine. Instead, she preferred to hear music performed inside churches; seek out exhibits of lesser-known artists; and discover off-the-beaten-track fashion houses and obscure stores. The only task I was given was selecting where we ate.

Eschewing the obvious

So, on day one off we went following Kate’s itinerary to the Grand Palais to see Claire Tabouret’s show.  Say who? Kate had heard about the six, life-size maquettes for Tabouret’s new stained-glass windows to replace those in Notre-Dame Cathedrale’s southern chapel. She knew, too, that Tabouret’s design had won the French Ministry of Culture’s international competition with over 100 submissions. (I had seen the exhibit before and promised Kate we’d be the only tourists there. That appealed to the nonconformist nature of my friend.)  

Kate pointed out all sorts of design features in the contemporary windows I had originally missed.  She was fascinated, too, with the technical aspects of modern stained-glass production versus that used in the 19th century for the windows Tabouret’s would replace.  The “how” never crossed my mind. Even seeing the exhibit for the second time, I was still preoccupied with the artist’s vivid color palette and pleasing modern interpretations of the Pentecost, the theme of her windows. However, while I was looking at their easily attainable visual impression, Kate was going in for the deed-dive. We did not leave the exhibit until she found a clear explanation that satisfied her technical interest.   

It’s not just about cardboard

Another example of seeing things differently was when we visited another esoteric exhibit also housed in the Grand Palais.  Again, we mingled with an exclusively Parisian crowd of art lovers to see Eva Jospin’s “Grottesco” show.  Here, we discovered the artist’s world of imaginary forests, caves and architectural structures, all constructed using textiles and corrugated cardboard.  You read that correctly. Humble cardboard. 

While I was admiring the other-worldly nature of ancient Rome-inspired grottos and church domes, Kate was focusing on how people were interacting with Jospin’s fantastical creations. She pointed out how comfortable the children were moving in and out of the structures as if on a playground. I had not noticed this. Again, I was going for the obvious while Kate was backing into the exhibit from a different, more interactive viewpoint.  Once I, too, noticed the children’s joyful, almost intuitive reactions, they became the focus of my photography, not the artwork.

Looking at Paris through Kate’s eyes

As an illustration of how glorious it can be to see things through a new set of eyes, I invited Kate to be this post’s guest contributor. She was asked to jot down what she found most striking about her reacquaintance with Paris and the Parisians.  But first, several more details about Kate which I inadvertently forgot to mention. In addition to being an architectural designer, Kate is also a poet, playwright and composer.  This meant I was able to appreciate Paris through a veritable kaleidoscope of new, enriching perspectives.

Here are Kate’s stream-of-consciousness reactions.

I opened the apricot jam that I bought in Paris this morning in New York, and the combination of actual fruit pieces and a vanilla bean brought such joy to the day.  It tasted like sunlight. I think about my recent (very short) trip and realize how distanced I had become from the sensual- maybe it was the long winter and our political climate. In Paris it was warm and sunny, and the trees and flowers were starting to bloom, and the fashion week attendees were everywhere, tall and skirted—men too—and  sporting multiple rings and torn stockings and multi-colored hair, and we watched them from our vantage point on the Place de la Concorde or the neighborhood cafés or the Dior exhibit at the Azzedine Alaïa Foundation. I felt connected to the world through the integrity of the neighborhoods and the attention paid to food and to art: there was inspiration in the maquettes for the new windows at Notre-Dame Cathedrale and the ingenious cardboard structures at the Grand Palais; delight in the dramatization that led us through the Jacquemart-André Museum and in the musicians who played “La Vie en Rose” on the Pont St Louis. There is clarity to being in Paris that comes from the physical organization of the city but also comes from a much more practical aspect: you don't get hung up on tipping; you are not surprised by hidden taxi fees. You can relax.

 Most of all, I was struck by the kindness of everyone we met from the young man in the bag shop who had stamped the designs on his shirt with his eight-year old daughter; the woman in the second-hand shop who insisted on photographing her customers  for her Instagram account; the vendors in the Bastille market who sold  jonquils picked that morning in the forest, or offered heart-shaped cheese free to their clients.  And, of course, the 96 bus that is basically all one needs to get around this wonderful city.

A reality check

Well, not exactly, Kate. While le bus 96 is conveniently located near my apartment and covers many high points around the city, it is but one example of a complex public transportation system—including the Metro—which makes Paris so easily navigable.

However, Kate was spot-on when describing the kind nature of the locals.  Let’s face it.  Most people think Parisians don’t like us.  Nothing can be further from the truth. Yes.  If you don’t greet them with a “Bonjour” upon an initial encounter or if you forget to say “Merci” when you leave them, you might be met with a glacial stare.  But that is because we frequently do not observe what Parisians consider normal protocol when interacting with another human being. For them, not doing so is considered rude.

The truth is that Parisians love Americans. They even consider us among their favorite tourists. Why? Because, as exemplified by Kate, we are friendly, curious and genuinely excited to be in their country.  While the French may consider us a bit smiley and sometimes child-like, they genuinely find our energy and openness refreshing.

What do the French think about our politics?

Believe it or not, that positive attitude equally extends to how the French react to our current madcap politics.  In fact, this was something that concerned both Kate and me on the onset of our trip. Turns out the French are very sophisticated and probably know more about our politics than the average American does.  Furthermore, they are wise enough not to judge the American people by their country’s radical and inconsistent policies. Yes, the French are confused by the decisions coming out of White House. But they are certainly not going to take it out on us when we enter their shop, eat in their restaurant or purchase a ticket to one of their museums.

It’s all about the French joie de vivre plus their willingness and pride in sharing their history, culture and traditions with others.  Just as Kate so rightfully pointed out in her narrative.

Now who wouldn’t want to travel with someone like Kate and to see through their lens a richer, more diverse view of what’s all around you?  

And incidentally, by the end of Kate’s stay in Paris, she was ready to throw away her cane and regain her almost-normal pace! Quel soulagement !