PARIS NOTES

November 2004

Volume 13 Issue 9

 

Euro Oct 13: .810

Euro Sept 14: .816

Rain Days: 15

High Temp: 50°F/10°C

Low Temp: 40°F/4°C

Nat’l Holidays: Nov 1, 11

 

Editor’s Notes

Many of the differences between the U.S. and France can be summed up in two words: the Internet. Go to our Super Links or Hotel Links pages at www.parisnotes.com (passwords below) and start clicking through the hundreds of links to Paris-related websites and this will become clear. At French sites, you will be treated to doves flying across your screen, piped-in Mozart music (one hotel site has “New York, New York” playing), objects moving everywhere, things flashing, beautiful graphics, funny sounds when you click on something, elaborate scrolls and menus, and many more very impressive website tricks. There’s just one problem with these graphically “artistic” websites: they make it excruciatingly difficult to find the information you are looking for—like a simple address or opening hours—which is probably buried five clicks away.

Somewhere along the line from the incredibly prescient MiniTel of the eighties to the Internet of today, somebody forgot to tell French website designers—and the clients who pay them—that, above all, the Internet is supposed to provide its users with information—easily, efficiently, quickly and intelligently. Beautiful creative and imaginative design is supposed to come afterwards.

And that’s the difference. In the U.S., we want things to work even if they don’t look so good (go to amazon.com). In France, looking good is paramount, even if it means things don’t work quite as well. Is this an argument of form versus function and vice versa? No, I think it is form “via” function, and vice versa. Are we right and they wrong? Well, if you are surfing the Internet, yes. But if you are walking through the Tuileries, the Louvre or the Marais, maybe not.

Mark Eversman, Editor

 

Flea Smitten

Whether visitors are browsing or buying, the Flea Market at Saint-Ouen wants them to feel welcome

By Lisa Pasold

Most people know the three most-visited sites in Paris: the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and the Louvre. But few know the fourth-most visited site. It isn’t a monument or a museum; it’s a flea market, the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen. Haven’t been there yet? Well, put it on your list because there’s never been a better time to go.

Commonly called “les Puces” (the fleas) or Clignancourt (because of its proximity to the Métro stop Porte de Clignancourt), the Flea Market of St-Ouen is the largest conglomeration of antiques sellers on the planet. Roughly 80 percent of the furnishings sold here are for export, so it truly is a global destination. There are 2,500 different antique and secondhand dealers arranged in 12 distinctive markets, each with its own name, atmosphere and specialty. Along with the markets devoted to antiques, paintings and architectural elements are other streets filled with clothing stalls, metal dealers and hawkers with armloads of pseudo-Vuitton purses, as well as 20 restaurants and cafés. It’s impossible to get bored or hungry.

The Puces isn’t just a market, it’s a city, and like any city, it’s made up of neighborhoods. “The Puces is a picture of France,” says Lili Gantarski, the delightful ribbon and bead expert whose Marché Vernaison stand is a destination for seamstresses and costume designers. “You meet everyone here. When I open the gate in the morning, I know something surprising will happen.”

The Puces covers 17 acres and it has seven miles of shop windows, which makes window-shopping here almost an Olympic sport. Why is now a great time to visit the Puces? Two reasons: first, travel to France is down, so the Puces has fewer international visitors, which means you’ll find better deals. Second, the Puces is making a concerted effort to improve its public image, which means its atmosphere is friendlier and more accessible than ever before. Not even 10 years ago most sales were made to professionals (American designers, British gallery owners and Rive Gauche specialists), but nowadays, more and more individuals come here to choose furnishings for themselves. As a result, the “antiquaries,” or dealers, at the Puces have learned to interact with the public better, and many now speak enough English to discuss their specialties. Vendor Françoise Dahan, who runs an impeccably organized silverware stand in the Marché Vernaison, explains: “Little by little, the market has gotten more sophisticated, which is better for clients because the more specialists there are the easier it is to find what you’re looking for. Today there’s more competition than there used to be, which allows clients to compare prices and quality.” Her well-polished displays include everything from ivory-handled Directoire teaspoons to silver cocktail shakers from the 1920s.

The Puces is located in St-Ouen, technically a suburb just beyond the northern border of the city and the 18th arrondissement. You can take a taxi to the corner of Avenue Michelet and Rue des Rosiers (in St-Ouen, not to be confused with the Rue des Rosiers in the 4th arrondissement), or take the Métro to Porte de Clignancourt at the end of the number 4 Métro line. From the Métro exit, walk north three blocks and under the Périphérique‚ the highway that encircles Paris. You’ll find yourself on Avenue Michelet; 15 feet ahead, turn left onto Rue des Rosiers. Don’t be intimidated by the crowds and chaos outside the Puces; it’s perfectly safe (except for the occasional pickpocket). As you enter, the chaos seems to calm down, and the atmosphere becomes more rarefied. Think of Rue des Rosiers as the backbone of the Puces, with individual antique markets arranged in alleys off this street, each alley with its own atmosphere and specialty.

The elegant boutiques on Rue des Rosiers had humble beginnings. In the 1830s, rag-and-bone men began gathering in this no-man’s-land outside the city limits on Sundays; the vendors were called “pêcheurs de lune,” since they hunted the streets by the light of the moon, looking for items to sell. Gradually, these chaotic open-air stands got the reputation as a good place to browse for bargains. By 1885, the village of St-Ouen decided to pave the streets and organize the merchants at their Paris gate. Seeing opportunity, local entrepreneur Romain Vernaison decided to rent out his gardening plot to merchants seeking permanent space. The Marché Vernaison was born; it’s the oldest market within the Puces, and it’s the first you’ll see, on your right as you walk down Rue des Rosiers.

The early Puces was a motley assortment of shacks and huts offering a wide variety of merchandise for sale. Today something of the old flea-market spirit survives in the narrow alleys of Marché Vernaison. It is the most authentic treasure hunt of the Puces: stands range from the cheerful assortment of beads and brocade ribbons at Lili Gantarski’s stall, Lili & Daniel, to the stand that specializes in eggcups far down the alleyway, to the museum-worthy gramophones displayed in the Techniques & Musiques Méchaniques stand.

Part of the fun at the Puces is having the possibility to buy a truly unique Paris memento—whatever your budget. Lili gestures to her constantly varying bead display: “Visitors can take home something from the Puces that costs only one euro, but they’re still participating in this wonderful history.” She has a particular fondness for people who come back, sometimes much later, to show her what they’ve created with the trim in her stall. This personal connection to clients is crucial to the flea market experience. “Here in Vernaison, it’s picturesque, a real village atmosphere,” says Paola Lumbroso, in her elegant glass-fronted ceramics gallery just off Rue des Rosiers. “It’s the place for serious hunting, so you need time and curiosity.” She breaks off to chat in Spanish to a potential customer, then turns back to say softly, “The best time for real ‘finds’ is Saturday morning.”

Every market connected to Rue des Rosiers has a reputation for certain types of merchandise, though most include a wide range of vendors. Vernaison is known especially for silverware and porcelain. Across Rue des Rosiers, Marché Dauphine has antique books and elegant glassware. Further along Rosiers is Marché Biron, ultra-chic 15 years ago, now less trendy but still interesting for Second Empire furnishings. Just to the left on Rue Paul-Bert is a tiny Art Deco alley, Marché Rosiers. There’s more Art Deco around the corner in Marché Serpette.

If you’re looking for particular items to furnish a room back home or to equip a Parisian pied-à-terre, there are specialists who will help you find exactly what you need. Gloria Cohen, owner of Finds in Paris (www.findsinparis.com), helps Americans in particular: “Europeans have more familiarity with the flea market experience, and they have fewer worries about shipping what they buy. Whereas for an American, there’s the language barrier, the shipping—it’s intimidating.” She guides Americans to the best sellers and organizes any refinishing that furniture might need before transportation to the U.S. Gloria is quick to point out that most stall owners are extremely helpful. “If you’re not sure about a piece of furniture and you want to try it out in Paris, I’ve known vendors to even deliver the piece so you can try it out in your apartment before you buy it.”

In 2001, the Puces became an official historical heritage site, which protects the area from inappropriate real estate development. It’s one of the only heritage sites in France to be listed because of its unique atmosphere rather than because of its historical or architectural importance. It’s this atmosphere that keeps people coming back: “There are the people who know about the flea market and those who don’t,” says Cohen. “There are people who travel for culture and museums, there are those who travel for Michelin-starred restaurants, and there are those who want to find something special in Paris, at a good price, so they come to the Puces.”

As you walk along Rue des Rosiers, moseying up and down the different market alleyways, you might need a coffee break. For a pause, poke your head into the worn yet charming Chope des Rosiers, which sometimes features jazz musicians at its tiny bar. Then turn left onto Rue Paul-Bert, where three old St-Ouen houses have become eccentric, high-quality antique stalls (don’t miss the eclectic mise-en-scène of number 10). At the end of the block, you’ll find the entrance to both Marché Serpette and Marché Paul Bert, the trendiest market of the moment, which specializes in garden and architectural accents arranged in jewel-like stalls.

Here, one of the first stands you’ll find belongs to François Bachelier, the president of the Flea Market Association (Association de Développement et de Promotion des Puces de Paris Saint-Ouen, created in 1994). The stall shines with copper pots and well-oiled butcher tables; the Bachelier family stand sells antique French cookware, wine-related objects and kitchen furnishings. He emphasizes that Americans have always had a big impact at the Puces. Until 2001, over 60 percent of all Puces sales were to the American market. To promote the Puces this spring, the vendors experimented with accepting the U.S. dollar at par with the euro. As a promotional tool, this wasn’t as great a success as expected, Bachelier admits, because Americans prefer being able to bargain (which the dollar-at-par eliminated, since vendors were already giving a substantial discount) and European buyers were irritated at being penalized for using the euro. Bachelier is philosophical about the experiment: “Life is full of possibilities,” he says.

Even the kitchenware at his stand has some American connections. “We went into kitchen stock because of the first Gulf War. There was no business at all that fall, absolutely nothing. So we looked for something smaller than the enormous furniture my mother and I used to specialize in. Something easy to transport, less expensive for clients—kitchen items! It was the right moment; the interest in kitchen décor was just taking off.” He’s proud to point out that the Jefferson Foundation in Virginia is using his stand to stock the historic kitchen at Monticello with the kind of 18th-century cooking utensils that Jefferson is known to have bought while he was in Paris.

Last year, to capitalize on the international reputation of the Puces, the Association launched the bi-annual Mondial de l’Antiquité. Vendors from outside France set up temporary stands alongside the permanent Parisian vendors of the Puces. Both visitors and locals were delighted with the result; with enthusiastic press coverage and a phenomenal selection of merchandise, the Mondial attracted 300,000 visitors for its three-day weekend (roughly double the usual weekend crowd at the Puces). Mark your calendar: the next Mondial is early October 2005, and vendors from as far away as Tokyo are planning to showcase their wares.

Bachelier says the Mondial was an obvious development for the Puces: “We have to keep evolving to maintain our reputation. This has been a difficult period for us, what with 9/11, then Iraq, then the low dollar—we’ve taken a hit. But when people come here, they see our incredible variety with their own eyes. The Puces sells literally everything from polished Neolithic rocks to contemporary decorative elements—it’s all here. Collectors, actors, artists, tourists, everyone visits the Puces. And these days, the sellers are careful to listen to what people say.” His goal is to guarantee not only quality and authenticity at the Puces, but also friendly, helpful people staffing the stalls—which isn’t necessarily part of the French flea market tradition.

The improved user-friendly attitude seems to be working: walk through the market on any day, even in winter, and you’ll notice that a couple of stands are being guarded only by the vendor’s poodle. Around a corner, you may well discover a Second Empire table on the sidewalk, surrounded by metal garden chairs and maybe a pair of fragile-seeming Louis XVI chaises. The table will be loaded with food, as the antiquaires are just settling down for lunch. But unlike most Parisians, these people are happy to get up from their meal and discuss the finer points of design with anyone who asks. Do you want to know the story behind the elephant skin umbrella stand, or are you curious what era that smoked-glass chandelier comes from? Vendors at the Puces know the real stories behind their merchandise, and they’re delighted to discuss its history.

In Marché Paul Bert, chandelier-enthusiast Isabelle Klein steps back into the fork in the alley to assess the arrangement of objects in her stand. Looking at her stall is like examining a precisely arranged theater set; every piece of furniture seems straight from a fairy tale. “I want to recreate a world of charm, of dreams,” explains Isabelle. “Furniture has a soul, and when you group different objects together, you create a very personal universe.” Like many vendors, Isabelle changes the décor of her stand almost weekly, pulling stock from her storeroom outside the market. “It’s really an unusual trade. We work seven days a week, the hours are ridiculous, and it’s a nomadic existence to find the objects you want, so you have to be passionate.” She laughs. “It takes so much energy! But there will always be people who love the past.”

This passion for antiques is what unites the vendor and the visitor in the Puces. “Some of our clients know even more than we do,” says Guy Barthélemy, vice-president of the Merchants’ Association of Vernaison, and co-owner with his wife Martine of the china-filled Artemisia stand. Guy keeps an assortment of resource books in English and French in the stall to help identify potters’ marks and prove provenance. He’s obviously pleased when foreigners share his fascination with the distinctive pottery of the French provinces: “You have to be obsessed to be a good collector.”

We’re talking about the Puces over a drink; to illustrate his love for the market, Guy balances his glass of mint and water precariously on the edge of our table. It teeters back and forth, catching the light, before Guy catches it with his big hand. He smiles: “My personal delight is glass and porcelain. Why? Because it’s as fragile as life.” Which is really the delight of visiting the Puces these days: this is a “grenier du monde” that offers all the fragility and variety of life, with uniquely Parisian flair.

•Some sites about the Puces: www.parispuces.com, www.vernaison.com, www.antika.com, www.les-puces.com.

 

Petites Notes

Les Halles Holdup

The Forum des Halles/Les Halles renovation project continues to be the biggest story in Paris (see the June 04, July/Aug 04 and Sept 04 issues of PN). Three months ago, Mayor Delanoë was to select from among four designs by world-famous architects (Rem Koolhaas, Jean Nouvel, David Mangin and Winy Maas) but he postponed his decision after it became clear that the public was vehemently opposed to all four designs—and so were we. The projects were collectively described by the 32 resident associations monitoring the selection process as being “mégalomanes et rigides.” All four architects have since written public letters stating that they were open to “evolving” their designs and they expressed their “flexibilité” in addressing the public’s concerns. In September, architect David Mangin was invited to speak to the public. Of the four designs, his was the least disliked. It was a kinder, gentler design, you could say, more in the spirit of its immediate surroundings and of the city’s environs in general (you can see his design at www.projetleshalles.com). The mayor has said that the new decision date would be “the end of autumn,” but look for this date to be extended as well. Too much is riding on this project, which will redefine the heart of Paris (Zola called it “the belly of Paris” when it was the Paris food market). The four designs are so off the mark that it is unlikely that one can be “evolved” into a design that will please the now skeptical public.

Sleepless Nights

The night of October 2-3 marked the third-annual city event called Nuit Blanche (sleepless night), which the town hall touted as a big success. Over a million Parisians were said to have participated. What, exactly, did they participate in, though? It’s a little tough to describe. Nuit Blanche aimed to get Parisians out on the streets for the entire night so they could mingle, have fun with friends, be entertained or enlightened, and get to know Paris better. To do this, the City arranged 136 “lieux” or places where something cultural, entertaining or interesting would take place. This year, for example, public swimming pools stayed open all night and piped in classical music. The inside of a tissue-decorated Hôtel de Ville was opened up to the public (in 2002, the mayor was stabbed here while mingling with visitors—no kidding). A harp player and singing children were suspended from the roof of the Opéra. Elsewhere there was a fake snowstorm in the Forum des Halles, while marching ants were projected across the facade of a nearby building. There were dancers, weird temporary sculptures and musicians. In short, Nuit Blanche is a totally strange evening. It is difficult to get your hands around it as the “lieux” are located all over the city and they are a bit underwhelming considering how much you must walk to view a number of them. You arrive in front of a building with ant projections and you think, “OK, interesting. Now what?” But judging from the enthusiastic crowds that gathered at numerous locations and the following day’s glowing press, it’s safe to say that Parisians have come to love their nuits blanches.

Tower Tally

In 1980 the City of Paris took over the management of the Eiffel Tower from the Eiffel family. At the time, the “Dame de Fer” (Iron Lady) was attracting three million annual visitors; today, there are six million. It generates a lot of revenue, but the City receives only 30 percent of the take. That’s because Jacques Chirac, then-mayor of Paris, set up a company called the Société Nouvelle de la Tour Eiffel (SNTE) to run the tower. The City owns only 30 percent of this company; the remaining 70 percent was given to a company called SAGI, 40 percent of which is owned by the City and 60 percent by Crédit Foncier de France. This rather arcane arrangement means that, technically, the City is a minority interest in the management of what is, arguably, its most important asset. It has been decided that this arrangement will change in 2005, when a new company will be set up to manage the tower. The City will own 51 percent of this company. Of course, the City wants to put more of the tower’s profits in its own pocket, but it must resolve an issue with the 250 strike-prone workers who run the tower. A study done in 2003 revealed that the workers have a pretty good situation—maybe too good. The “dames pipi,” the pay-toilet attendants, were found to be making, in some cases, 5,000E per month (not including tips); employees were found to be earning almost 50 percent more than those doing comparable jobs in other businesses; and the average absenteeism of workers was found to be twice the national average.

The Mayor’s Survey

This May, Mayor Delanoë sent out to Paris residents 800,000 questionnaires that asked for their opinions about the future of the city. An impressive 120,000 Parisians filled out and sent back the surveys, the results of which the mayor presented in September—happily, as Parisians seemed to validate most of his initiatives. So what do Parisians want? They are very concerned about “old” Paris and want more initiatives to protect old buildings. They are unenthusiastic about developing the city economically and touristically. Of great concern is traffic. They want fewer cars in the city (even those who own cars). They want more bus lanes (more than they want bike lanes). Paradoxically, they want more parking places and restrictions on parking. They want more social housing in all arrondissements. And, in the most notable disagreement with the mayor, they want to keep the 37-meter building height limit. In a recent book, the mayor hinted that he would be open to building some tall buildings in Paris, but his adoring public has rebuked this.

Quai Branly

Slowly but surely, the Musée du Quai Branly (dedicated to the “arts and civilizations of Africa, Asia, Oceania and the Americas”), in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, is taking shape. Jean Nouvel’s eclectic design promises to make this museum as architecturally interesting as its subject. Now is a good time to get over to see the building site, which is far enough along to allow you to get a sense of the structure. Until your next trip, however, you can keep track on a daily webcam at the museum’s website (www.quaibranly.fr). The opening, which has been pushed forward many times, is now scheduled for the end of 2005.

 

Paris Bites

By Rosa Jackson

La Régalade without chef Yves Camdeborde? It was unimaginable, like a Parisian without an artfully knotted scarf on a chilly November day. And yet Camdeborde had the courage—some might say the nerve—to desert the bistro that set the standard by which all prix-fixe menus must now be judged. A few months after the arrival of Bruno Doucet, Mark (the world-famous editor of this newsletter) and I decided we owed it to our readers to taste and report on an event that might have broader repercussions.

I had visited La Régalade twice during Camdeborde’s reign, and both meals remain imprinted in my memory in the way that only the work of a genius can. The downside was the challenge of securing a reservation, especially for dinner—you needed to plan weeks ahead, and risk losing the table should you neglect to confirm. Though I was able to book our lunch a few days ahead this time, the strict reservation policy remains (it’s standard for haute cuisine restaurants in Paris but still unusual for bistros).

The only remarkable thing about La Régalade’s interior is its unremarkableness, and Doucet has wisely left this untouched. The lace curtains, wooden tables and chairs, and ancient comptoir make it feel like a provincial bistro, and its location on the rather grim edge of the 14th does nothing to detract from this. The country terrine that lands on your table once you have ordered is reassuringly the same as before, too, with an earthenware jar of gherkins providing the classic mouth-puckering contrast to the delicious fattiness of the pâté.

As before, a selection of daily specials (perhaps fewer than before) complements the menu, whose 30E price is unchanged. Mark remarked on the near-absence of offal, something that seemed to give Camdeborde as much pleasure as the silkiest foie gras or the freshest langoustines. Unless you have a particular craving for sheep testicles, however, the menu does not make a disappointing read.

Mark settled on the soup of white Paimpol beans with chorizo, ladled out of a giant tureen in typically generous southwestern French style. While the soup itself was creamy and richly flavored, the thin slices of spicy sausage seemed a little too timid. Shelled escargots nestled in a little cassolette (earthenware dish) of lentils were a great idea and delicious, if very salty. Both our starters came with the tiniest crunchy croutons, a trademark among a certain clan of bistro chefs. My snails were also topped with inch-long chive clippings that I found decorative but distracting.

On a cool autumn day, both of us opted for meaty mains. Mark’s gigot d’agneau de Bellac turned out to be a plate layered with thin slices of rosy lamb—a pretty presentation at first, but less so as the lamb cooled on the plate. My slices of poitrine de cochon (pork belly) lacked the promised croustillant and were even a bit dry, despite this being a fatty cut of meat. Again, the croutons and chives appeared, and both our dishes came with smooth potato purées served in cast-iron pots, Mark’s flavored with mustard and mine with diced andouille (tripe sausage). I don’t object to seeing similar flourishes in different dishes, but here it seemed as if the chef hadn’t quite found his own identity—I suspect it will come with time.

Grapefruit salad with cassis sorbet was tangy and palate cleansing, while the Grand Marnier soufflé (which had been a Camdeborde classic) could have used a splash more of the orange liqueur, but was otherwise suitably puffy and proud. Even if I sound rather critical, for 30E per person this meal was considerably more generous and tasty than what you can expect in most Paris bistros. La Régalade probably still belongs in the top ten in this league of bistros, but the question is, if Camdeborde jumped ship (for perfectly understandable personal reasons, such as rarely seeing his children) will others of his ilk do the same? Offering such great-value food is a courageous choice for a Paris chef, who has to double his efforts to find affordable seasonal ingredients and run an efficient kitchen. Let’s hope there will always be a few dedicated souls willing to make the effort so that the best French cooking will not be reserved for the elite.

Speaking of the elite, not all of us will have the opportunity in this lifetime to eat at the legendary Troisgros restaurant in Roanne. As the translator of their menu I have had some pleasurable dealings with chef Michel Troisgros (the third generation in a family dynasty), but haven’t yet made the pilgrimage to Roanne. When he put the Troisgros name to the restaurant at the Hôtel Lancaster, I knew this was something Michel Troisgros wouldn’t do lightly, and I couldn’t wait to try some of the dishes I had read about.

On a sunny September day, I was lucky enough to dine on the terrace, whose red walls and bamboo trees show the Asian influence of the hotel’s elegant Hong Kong-based owner. Since Paris weather is notoriously unpredictable, just as much thought has gone into the dining room, whose body-hugging armchairs put diners immediately at ease.

Michel Troisgros might be one of the world’s great chefs but he is far from pretentious, and his menu at the Lancaster makes use of often-neglected ingredients such as sardine, eel and even pig ears. With my friend J., who has a penchant for odd animal bits, we worked our way through some of the more unusual dishes, though you’ll also find langoustines and other luxury ingredients on the menu if you’re looking for them. The menu, by the way, is not arranged in the traditional order but grouped into taste themes, each with its starters and main courses—diners are free to mix and match as they please.

When I ordered the melba de sardines I was thinking of peach melba (and who knows what I expected), but the melba instead referred to wafer-thin toast layered with basil leaves and glistening marinated sardines. It was stunning to look at and refreshing, if not revolutionary, to eat. More surprising were J.’s frog legs in a tamarind sauce with a distinct Thai influence—a big plateful of succulent meat that we happily shared. I followed this with cod in a seaweed bouillon on a bed of koshi-hikari rice (the finest Japanese rice), a classic dish at the restaurant in Roanne. It’s easy to see why it’s a classic once you’ve tasted this combination of snow-white fish, zingy Japanese mustard, silky rice grains and subtle broth. Eel in basil sauce might be less of a crowd-pleaser because of the sauce’s slightly muddy color and the occasional little bone, but as eel fans we didn’t regret ordering it.

Michel Troisgros seems to take a certain childish glee in desserts, and my crunchy sugar tart (like a pecan tart without the pecans) with fresh grapefruit slices was easily big enough for two, while J.’s souffléed crêpes were an old-fashioned delight. It might be a little less sophisticated than the food in Roanne, but there is a price difference too—a meal here costs about 70E per person without drinks and is well worth it for a tantalizing taste of the good life.

•La Régalade: 49 Ave Jean-Moulin, 14th. Tel: 1-45-45-68-58.

•La Table du Lancaster: 7 Rue de Berri, 8th. Tel: 1-40-76-40-18.

 

Paris Pampering IV

The centuries-old hammam ritual is updated at three locations

By Vivian Thomas

Much as I treasure authenticity in my travel experiences, one visit to the hammam of the Paris Mosque was enough to convince me that its traditional Turkish bath was just too funky for me. To my mind, to be relaxing and enjoyable, a hammam needs amenities like nice locker rooms, fluffy towels and a helpful staff.

Now several new establishments have opened in Paris, and each offers its own take on the hammam. All are delightful and user-friendly, even for a novice. Even so, it helps to know the basics before you start. The centuries-old hammam ritual is designed to cleanse and purify the body, not by immersing it in water but by repeatedly steaming, rinsing and scrubbing it. It also involves unfamiliar products, including “savon noir” (not really black soap but a paste obtained from crushed black olives) and “rassoul,” a mud-like masque made from clay mixed with essential oils. Traditional hammams are communal, with either separate premises or separate days for men and women, but two I visited have made it into a private 90-minute treatment.

Tucked under the arcades just off the Place Vendôme, the Oriental Spa is part of the Intercontinental Hotel. But with its separate entrance and opulent décor, it’s far from the usual hotel fitness center. Ringing for entry, I stepped downstairs into a flower-filled salon with deep red walls, brilliant fabrics and soft sofas.

In the modern dressing room my attendant handed me paper slippers and a huge towel to wrap myself in; she then led me down the hall to the private hammam, a vaulted chamber whose blue and white tiled walls glimmered with gold. I spent my first 10 minutes in the steam room, where the 46°C (115°F) temperature soon had me covered in sweat.

For the next step, the savon noir, I lay on a towel-covered marble bench while she coated me with the slippery stuff; then it was back to the steam room for 15 minutes. When the attendant reappeared I showered with cool water and was steered back to the bench for the “gommage.”

Using a mitt that felt like sandpaper, she scrubbed my skin so vigorously that it soon edged past discomfort to the point of pain. I was ready to tell her to stop when, to my relief, she did.

The rassoul looked like melted chocolate but smelled like oranges and spices. Warm when applied, it rapidly cooled and hardened in the next 15 minutes. During that time, she served me mint tea—sweet and very welcome after all that sweating. I showered off the mud before the last and best part, massage with a fluffy body cream scented with orange blossoms.

Wrapped in my towel, I padded back to the locker room in my paper slippers, past two couples chatting in the hot tub. My skin was satiny and fragrant, and when I walked out, looking much better than when I’d walked in, the hot-tubbers smiled approvingly as they said, “Au revoir.”

While the Oriental Spa specializes in the hammam, the Spa Cinq Mondes draws on many cultures for inspiration, with a Japanese flower petal bath, Ayurvedic Indian massage, Chinese Taoist facial and Javanese spice exfoliation. I chose the private hammam, or Rituel du Maghreb.

Located in a pretty courtyard off the Grands Boulevards, the spa is spacious and modern. I was sipping an aromatic tea when my attendant, Catherine, wearing a white T-shirt, purple harem pants and an orchid in her hair, appeared to escort me downstairs to a combination dressing and massage room. There I exchanged my clothes for a sexy-looking paper thong and terry peignoir before following her to the hammam.

No Oriental décor here; just a well-designed blue-tiled “cabine” adjoining a steam room. But the treatment that followed was a great blend of tradition and New Age embellishments. First I chose one of five colors from a color wheel (yellow, red, green, light and dark blue) for my “bain de lumière.” My choice, yellow, Catherine explained, was associated with the element earth and the fragrance of sage—other aromas were lemon, lavender, pine and rosemary. So I sweated through 10 minutes of sage-scented steam and yellow light, after which Catherine coated me with savon noir, turned up the heat and left me to simmer for 10 more minutes.

Next was gommage, and at least I was prepared for the sandpapering this time. But when she said, “Your skin is coming off well,” my eyes flew open. Coming off? Sure enough, my body was covered all over with little rolls of skin—this is serious exfoliation.

The rassoul was more enjoyable here, because the clay, mixed with rosewater and applied in the warm steam room, didn’t harden. After my final shower, Catherine introduced me to Anne, my masseuse, who massaged me into nirvana with warm, sandalwood- and orange-scented oil. Incorporating several styles, she used her hands and the whole length of her arms in ways that made me think more than one person was massaging me. She had all the right instincts, found and undid the knots in my shoulders, and finished with my face and scalp. I was a new woman when I left.

Last and most beautiful was Aux Bains Montorgueil (pictured). Just opened in July, this lovely hammam hidden at the back of a courtyard is perfect in every detail: hand-colored walls, golden tiles, filigree lanterns and doors shaped like an entrance to the Casbah.

Sipping mint tea in a mirrored salon with a softly splashing fountain and couches heaped with red and purple velvet cushions, I spoke with Wafa, an attractive woman with enviable cheekbones whom the owner calls the “soul” of the hammam. For Moroccan women, she explained, the hammam is not an occasional indulgence, but an important part of life. Her tawny satin skin was the best advertisement. Leading me to the downstairs dressing room, she handed me a terry peignoir, shower shoes and a “pareo,” a length of silky fabric to wear as a sarong.

Although the hammam takes up to 10 clients at a time, I was alone. In the steam room, I glimpsed an Arabic fresco and mosaic fountain through the eucalyptus-scented steam, and when the heat became intense I splashed myself with cool water using a small brass basin.

Wafa mixed her savon noir with henna—not, she assured me, to dye my skin, just to make it healthy. After another 15 minutes of steam, it was time for gommage and the application of rassoul mixed with rosewater. The surprise here was the gentleness of Wafa’s touch. While I felt no discomfort at all, her gommage was just as effective as the previous two.

After rinsing me off, she rubbed me all over with lemon slices, crushing them in her hands and letting the juice run over my skin. Next came another rinse and another massage, this time with warm argan oil. This rare and expensive oil, the hottest new anti-aging product, has long been used by Moroccan women to beautify skin and hair. Wafa lavished the nutty-smelling oil on my body and face and, after I’d showered, massaged more of it into my hair, telling me not to rinse it out.

Still in my peignoir, I returned to the upstairs salon, where I found a dish of chilled ripe melon waiting for me. Sipping tea from a glass filled with fresh mint leaves and nibbling melon, I could have happily sat there forever, lost in a harem fantasy straight out of the Arabian Nights.

•Oriental Spa: 3 Rue de Castiglione, 1st. Tel: 1-42-60-63-03. Open: Mon-Fri, 7am-9pm; Sat-Sun, 9am-8pm. E-mail: info@orientalspa.fr. Site: www.orientalspa.fr. Soin du hammam: 110E.

•Spa Cinq Mondes: 6 Square de l’Opéra, 9th. Tel: 1-42-66-00-60. Open: Mon-Sat, 11am-8pm. E-mail: contact@www.cinqmondes.com. Site: www.cinqmondes.com. Rituel du Maghreb: 110E.

•Aux Bains Montorgueil: 55 Rue Montorgueil, 2nd. Tel: 1-44-88-01-78. Open: daily, 11am-9pm. Odd days: women. Even days: men, by reservation. E-mail: auxbainsmontorgueil@wanadoo.fr. Hammam, gommage and massage: 99E.

 

Bring Home the Cows

By Gary Lee Kraut

The first thought that comes to mind when you enter Vache and Cow, a little shop in the Les Halles quarter, is mad cow disease, “la vache folle.” No, not bovine spongiform encephalopathy and its brain-wasting prion, but the pathology that comes from overindulging in black-and-white dairy cow motifs. You may not know you have it until you’re actually surrounded by the array of Holstein-ware that owner Sylvie Wais has herded together here.

Giggling is one symptom, as clients tend to do when Sylvie claps her hands and the Exhibitionist Cow moos seductively before opening its overcoat to reveal its “udderwear.” Another symptom is when you shake your head as your spouse longingly picks up a pair of udder-topped slippers—then you think about how they are, unfortunately, all that separate you from domestic bliss.

Like many forms of humor, cow motifs work best when taken to excess. At Vache and Cow you’ll find a panoply of cow-ware to fully accessorize your cow-themed kitchen (mug, timer, tea kettle, butter holder, salt and pepper shakers, dishware), cow-themed office (cow pad for your computer cow, cowculator, tape holder), cow-themed bathroom (bathmat, TP holder, toilet brush, soap dispenser, tissue box) and even your calf-themed toddler (triple-teated baby bottle, bib, layette, stuffed cows). Most such items run 5-15E.

There are also cow-splashed T-shirts, hoof-wiping doormats, genuine cowhide clogs, checker sets (cow me!) and other examples of an overactive imagination. Most of these run 19-41E. Attractive, artsy, hand-painted Cow Parade figurines (74E) provide a rare glimpse of color in an otherwise black-and-white store. Presumably you won’t be lugging home the calf-size Holstein sculpture outside (1,500E), but who knows to what lengths some people will go when bitten by the cow bug.

Wais, a lifelong Parisian, acknowledges that a sense of commerce rather than a passion for cows is what led her to specialize in Holstein motifs. She stumbled upon cows while operating a boutique that sold designer gifts and accessories for men. Surprised to find that an order of “Vache Qui Rit” (Laughing Cow, a French cheese trademark) T-shirts flew off the shelves (and less surprised to find that she couldn’t compete with chain stores in selling designer goods), she gradually developed a cow section in that store. She then went all cow five years ago when she opened Vache and Cow at this location.

Despite the single-minded nature of her shop, Sylvie insists on wearing black, with an occasional touch of white or gray, because of a natural aversion to color in clothing rather than an attempt to dress in tune with her merchandise. I fail to see the nuance. Furthermore, Sylvie says that in finding her bovine vocation she discovered that people who go in for the timeless non-fashion of cow motifs are nicer to deal with than those hunting for designer goods. Perhaps, but choosing Holstein over Prada may actually just be a question of mood. If pink elephants are what you see when you’re drunk, then cow motifs are what you buy when you’re feeling daffy. Or when you feel that your friends are.

Finally, every Francophile should know that French cows say “meuh” (pronounced like a deep, elongated French me-e-e), which explains the kissing cow decal on the shop window with the words Je t’ai’meuh. Well, Vache and Cow never promised subtlety.

•Vache and Cow: 12 Rue de la Ferronnerie, 1st. Open: Mon. 1-7:30pm, Tue-Sat, 11:45am-7:30pm. Tel: 1-40-26-60-36. Site www.vacheandcow.com.

 

Leather with Love

By Whitney Barton

Skillfully wielding two silver needles between his slender fingers, artisan leather-worker Serge Amoruso shapes the spine of a creamy, supple antelope skin wallet. He removes his spectacles and releases the finished piece from an age-darkened wood “pince à coudre” balanced between his knees. Scattered across the worktable, sketches, tissue patterns and delicate metal tools hint at the wonders performed here each week, the transformation of raw leather into the most luxurious of handbags.

Indispensable for city life, the purse is more than an annex of the body or a repository for valued items. It is an opportunity for self-expression. So, it comes as no surprise that many design-conscious Parisians choose a visit to this tiny Marais studio rather than the famous stores on the Rue du Faubourg-St-Honoré and Avenue Montaigne. Compared with the signature crescent alligator skin sack hanging near the door, Chanel’s ubiquitous gold is cliché, Prada’s ripstop nylon is shoddy and Louis Vuitton’s mass-printed initials are commonplace.

Amoruso explains his philosophy: “I’d prefer to make a perfect one-of-a-kind piece than a thousand mediocre replicas. I spend time and energy choosing the ideal color, the right detailing. I have a relationship with each of my creations and I want my clients to feel the same way.” This care has paid off. Loyal customers include the president of FNAC, Rothschild the Younger and the Prince of Morocco.

The Paris-born Italian’s love affair with leather began when he was 14. His father, a woodworker, taught him an appreciation for the traditional arts. In his formative years, he traveled the world to learn different techniques, then worked for seven years at Hermès. He went solo 10 years ago. His team of five artisans produces an average of 60 new designs each year. “It was my dream to open my own workshop. I thrive on the freedom to pursue my inspirations, and to create art,” he says passionately.

His distinctive style combines edgy modern design with traditional craftsmanship. Unhampered by genre, Amoruso gives free reign to his creativity, also expressed in belts, watch bands, knife sheaths, cigar cases and furniture. He draws his inspiration from the bold geometry of architecture and the clean aesthetic of Japanese calligraphy. He enjoys experimenting with new materials such as carbon fiber, ostrich, titanium and wood. Holding up a glossy, powder-blue pocketbook, he points to its brilliant starburst of embedded white spangles and explains, “I spent weeks pioneering the technique for working this stingray skin. The teeth make the hide extremely challenging to work with. The texture is like no other.” Indeed, it is the startling interplay of color and texture that makes his creations so unique. Polished iron meteorite, mammoth tooth, Tahitian pearl and tortoise shell are only a few of his favorite clasp details.

The studio itself is a blend of chic fashion boutique and down-to-earth workshop. Inverted silver cauldrons illuminate two worktables, designed by Amoruso’s brother and made in the family wood shop. Burlington stone floors edged in bamboo and tall white ceilings are the backdrop for a row of glass display cases on polished bamboo. The storefront window displays a blushing peach diary (430E), an octagonal tangerine purse (800E), a deep blue origami wallet (77E) and an alligator skin belt (435E). A must-see: the triangular titanium purse lightly covered in black ostrich skin, with a pear tree wood handle (4,800E). As for next season’s hottest design? Amoruso is poised to answer.

•Serge Amoruso Boutique-Atelier: 39 Rue du Roi-de-Sicile, 4th. Open: Mon-Sat, 9am-7pm. Tel: 1-48-04-97-97.

 

Eyes That Have It

Finding fashionable eyewear that “can change your personality”

By Timothy Rake

Twenty-five years ago it was fashionable to hide your eyes behind a pair of Dior or Chanel sunglasses and stroll down the Champs-Elysées. Ever the trendsetters, the French wizards of vogue inked their name on every adornment and accessory imaginable—eyewear being no exception. Then, two decades ago, along came Parisian designer Alain Mikli with rectangles and shocking colors. The eyes would never quite look the same.

If keeping an eye on Mikli was reason then to visit the French capital, now there’s even more reason to come to Paris and see what’s standing optical fashion on its head. The eyes have never had it so good. Even discounting Mikli—who has become either too institutional or too edgy, depending on your point of view—nowhere else will you find such a wide range of interesting and avant-garde design. Nowhere else will you see such attention-grabbing eyewear retail space, now that two of France’s most innovative “créateurs” have opened their own boutiques on the banks of the Seine. And most of all, nowhere else will you see a French designer’s complete collection.

In the trendy Marais district, the window display at Anne et Valentin (pictured) is sure to invite some inside to satisfy their zaniest dreams; it will turn others off as just another impossible dream. “We are a little bit terrorist,” says Nicole Calté of Anne et Valentin’s potential for visual shock. “We want people to see themselves differently,” she insists. “We do take the time to listen to our clientele, but also to listen to what they tell us in a pair of glasses. Subliminally, they tell us what they want, and it’s usually not what they say they want.”

Anne et Valentin’s humble origins in the French provinces belie its cutting-edge, urban look. Twenty years ago it was an optical shop in Toulouse. That is until Anne Valentin’s ennui with the same old designs caught up with her yearning for something that expressed the personality and colors of her native Languedoc. A decade ago she began crafting her own collection for the boutique she owned with her husband, who has passed away. With growing distribution worldwide, the company wanted a presence in Paris.

“We wanted people to take us seriously,” says Calté, of the decision in 2000 to open a boutique in the heart of the 4th arrondissement. Located at 4 Rue Ste-Croix-de-la-Bretonnerie, the boutique is worth a visit. Downstairs, a wooden bar-counter and stool concept provides an unusually welcome space for eye-to-eye contact with the staff—four opticians experienced in dealing with both Parisians and visitors alike. If a leisurely afternoon of fitting your face with a pair of Anne et Valentin is what you need after running all over the city on foot, take advantage of the cozy sitting rooms on both the ground floor and upstairs.

Round or rectangular, a frame from Anne et Valentin is imagined with fantasy and finished with care. Known for its daring color combinations in zyl, Valentin and fellow designer Valéry Lorenzo have created a distinct look in titanium frames, too. Black on satin yellow, or moss green on red, the duplex-color look is unmistakably Anne et Valentin. Others have copied, but no one seems to do it with as much flair. (I should know. Never do I get so many compliments as when I wear my pair of Anne et Valentin.)

In contrast to Italian corporate giants like Luxottica, Anne et Valentin has a different slant on optical fashion. According to Calté, the Italian strategy seems to be one of inundating the market with mass-produced frames seemingly made to fit everyone. The French artisanal approach is quite different. “We are a human story. What we want is the right frame on the right face,” says Calté. “A frame that is made for everyone, in the end, is made for no one. It has no personality.”

Across town in the fashionable 1st arrondissement, store manager Janna Lapidus of Face à Face agrees. Upstart French eyewear designers, she contends, are setting the trend in the industry by creating a product with “more soul and more humanity.” Face à Face opened its boutique at 346 Rue St-Honoré just eight months ago. Conceived by a group of young architecture students, the store is visually stunning. Within the confines of only 75 square meters on three levels, the space is bathed in sunlight and radiates with color. It is optically expansive with floating cabinets and well-placed mirrors. In effect, the retail space is a mirror of the retail product—bold architectural lines and colors in both metal and plastic.

Founded in 1995, Face à Face brings an artistic vision to the market that has been favored by celebrities around the world, including Adrien Brody, Penélope Cruz, Paul Belmondo and Sharon Stone, to name a few. “In Italy, the big houses dominate the market and everything tends to look the same,” says Lapidus, who is as fluent in French and English as her native Lithuanian. “At Face à Face, we feel a pair of glasses is an accessory that can change your personality. We offer something you won’t find elsewhere.”

Across the Seine in the 6th arrondissement, Left Bank “créateur” Betty Klein offers another unique product you won’t find widely distributed in the States. Located at 30 Rue Bonaparte, not far from the Café des Deux Magots, the boutique features a retro look that highlights oversized sunglasses studded with rhinestones. Inspired by the old and the charming, the hand-designed creativity and delicate workmanship are evident. Klein is definitely worth a visit if the 1950s Hollywood guise is what you had in mind.

No longer a “créateur” in the technical sense, Annette Hoffman of Les Créateurs d’Opta in the 17th arrondissement features one of the most eye-catching collections of eyewear you are likely to see anywhere in Paris. Located at 25 Rue des Abbesses in the shadows of Montmartre, the store once featured Hoffman’s own line of eyewear. It now carries her daughter’s unique handcrafted accessories for glasses in addition to a large assortment of designer eyewear. Hoffman’s artistic vision is evident in her selections of the best in design and the most eccentric in style. Indefatigable, she has an arresting eye for matching the right frame to the right face. English is definitely spoken here, along with strong visual esthetics.

If you want a chance to see Face à Face and Anne et Valentin side by side, a visit to Opta is worth your time. You’ll also discover what seems to be the largest, most eclectic collection of sunglasses in the smallest space this side of the Atlantic. Heavyweights Gucci, Dior and Prada are also on display, but the eye-catching collections from Frenchman JF Rey and Belgian designer Theo—less likely to be seen on Mainstreet USA—are sure to turn a few heads.

•Anne et Valentin: 4 Rue Ste-Croix-de-la-Bretonnerie, 4th. Tel: 1-40-29-93-01.

•Face à Face: 346 Rue St-Honoré, 1st. Tel: 1-53-45-82-22.

•Betty Klein: 30 Rue Bonaparte, 6th. Tel: 1-44-07-04-28.

•Les Créateurs d’Opta: 25 Rue des Abbesses, 17th. Tel: 1-42-62-71-42.

 

PARIS FACT: In 2003, France was the most visited country in the world, with 77 million visitors. However, it was third in tourist revenues ($32.3 million), behind the U.S. ($66.5 million) and Spain ($33.6 million).

PARIS FACT: Thanks to the installation of expensive telephone equipment, by mid-2005, cell phone users will be able to use their phones underground in 80 percent of the Métro.

PARIS FACT: Out of 12,000 Paris restaurants, roughly 300 are cited each year for health-code violations; about 180 are closed temporarily.

 

Calendrier

PICK OF THE MONTH

Ukiyo-e

Variously described as pornographic, poetic, hedonistic or sublime, these 217 masterworks evoke the everyday lives and little pleasures of 18th-century Japan. Included are works by Utamoro and Suzuki Harunobu, as well as those of lesser-known artists from the rarely seen collections of the Musée Guimet. •Grand Palais. Until Jan 3. Site: www.rmn.fr.

MUST SEE

Veronese

Paulo Calari, known as Veronese (1528-88), is presented here in all his Cinquecentro glory: sumptuous silvery colors (cool yellows, silky blue-blacks and warm umbers) and intricate decorative detail. The emphasis here is on his “profane” paintings—those depicting the demurely sensuous buxom beauties and noble personalities able to pay for his work—rather than on his religious paintings, judged “irreverent” by the thought-police of the Inquisition. This exhibition is too perfect to miss. •Musée du Luxembourg. Until Jan 30. Site: www.expoveronese.com.

Turner/Whistler/Monet

A truly glorious show, splendid in concept, presentation and design. This exhibit neatly shows the relationship, influence and parallel thinking of these innovative artists and their preoccupation with, and perception of, the light and changing colors of the water and the sky. The first paintings Monet did of the Thames in 1871, as well as those from 1899 to 1901, are shown here alongside those of Whistler and Turner that influenced his work. •Grand Palais. Until Jan 17. Site: www.rmn.fr.

Son et Lumière

An ambitious expo that explores the complex relationship between music and the plastic arts in the 20th century. The abstract films of Victor Eggeling, Oskar Fischinger’s “Visual Music” and the “Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” as well as Paul Luka’s “Fantasia,” are shown alongside works by Picabia, Kandinsky, Mondrian, Pollack and Duchamp inspired by the music of Arnold Schoenberg, John Cage, et al. •Centre Pompidou. Until Jan 3. Site: www.centrepompidou.fr.

Wang Du Parade

48-year-old Wang Du came to Paris in 1990 to escape post-revolutionary propaganda and other miseries in China. He was stunned by the manic media output in the “free” world, where everything has a price. Visitors enter this expo via a 28-meter tunnel, where they are bombarded by the cacophony of televisions blaring commercials and soap operas in 64 languages. Then, they are ejected into a gallery where a conveyor belt carries giant plastic females in an endless rotation, provocatively mocking consumer foolishness. •Palais de Tokyo. Until Jan 2. Site: www.palaisdetokyo.com.

Napoleon

The “Treasures of the Napoleon Foundation,” from the opulence and grandeur of the Imperial Court to the ignominy of exile: 200 paintings, arms (including his hunting gun), personal knick-knacks and memorabilia of Napoleon’s private life. Rather sad, but peculiarly appealing. •Musée Jacquemart-André. Until March 4. Site: www.musee-jacquemart-andre.com.

Woven Treasures

These beautifully preserved examples of Egyptian and Coptic textiles were chosen from the Louvre, and from the Roanne and Rouen museums’ collections, to demonstrate the esthetic harmony and technical savvy of the weavers of the Nile Valley during the pharaohnic and Islamic eras. These exquisite remnants are a poignant reminder of lives past—with all their cunning chic and impossible yearnings for beauty—a distant echo of the fashion follies of today. •Institut du Monde Arabe. Until Jan 2. Site: www.imarabe.org.

WORTH A VISIT

Making Waves

The sea is the theme of the exhibit “The Sea: Terror and Fascination.” Photographs, maps, manuscripts and graphic arts drawn from the national library’s archives illustrate man’s imaginative conception of the sea, from ancient mapmakers, Hokusai and Jules Verne, to the most recent photos of submarine research. •Bibliothèque Nationale de France-François Mitterrand. Until Jan 16. Site: www.bnf.fr.

Decoration

This expo is drawn from the Forney Library’s incredibly rich collection of decorative and interior arts (industrial and artisanal)—wallpaper and fabrics in particular. This is a sprightly, well-documented and pleasingly presented show of wild and wonderfully fanciful design. •Bibliothèque Forney, Hôtel des Archevêques de Sens. Until Dec 31.

Alfred Stieglitz

This show focuses on Stieglitz’s participation in the New York art movement, 1905-2005. •Musée d’Orsay. Until Jan. Site: www.musee-orsay.fr.

Body Art

Elaborately colorful tattoos, weird and wonderful body paintings, and other strange and enchanting art forms are shown here in an exotic display of African art as found in South and North America, Asia and the South Sea Islands. Masks, statues and other objects show the importance given to the decoration of ears and noses. •Musée Dapper. Until April 3. Site: www.dapper.com.fr.

George Sand, 1804-1876

This is an ultra-romantic homage to George Sand that celebrates her life and work: an exposition of paintings, manuscripts, objects and memorabilia. Conferences on Sand’s work are also offered. •Musée de la Vie Romantique. Until Nov 28. Site: www.paris.fr/musees.

Maurice Quentin de la Tour

Subtitled “The thief of hearts,” this exhibit displays the work of la Tour (1704-1788). The extreme fragility of these pastels makes this a rare occasion to see the work of the greatest portrait painter of the court of Louis XV. •Château de Versailles. Until Dec 12. Site: www.chateauversailles.fr.

The Baron Rothschild Collection

15th- to 18th-century drawings and prints from the Edmond de Rothschild collection, one of the most important in the world. •Louvre, Aile Sully. Until Jan 10. Site: www.louvre.fr.

The Pharaohs

Works from the Louvre, the Cairo Museum and Tutankhamon’s tomb, as well as the fabulous jewels known as the Treasure of Tanis, recount the grandeur and mystery of the Pharaohs—the kings, priests, temple builders and military rulers of ancient Egypt. •Institut du Monde Arabe. Until April 10. Site: www.imarabe.org.

New York, 1935/Paris, 2004

This exhibit is a recreation of the 1935 New York show organized by Julien Lévy. It presents the work of Manuel Alvarez Bravo (Mexican, 1902-2002), Walker Evans (American, 1903-1975) and Henri Cartier-Bresson (French, 1908-2004). •Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson, 14th. Until Dec 19. Site: www.henricartierbresson.org.

SPECIAL EVENTS

Paris Photo

A fair that has become “the undisputed standard for viewing the world’s best photography.” Works from the 19th century to modern masterpieces to the latest work by leading contemporary photographers will be shown. Switzerland is this year’s special honoree. •Carrousel du Louvre. Nov 11-14. Site: www.parisphoto.fr.

The Salon du Cheval

Competition jumping and the Arabian Horse World Championship, plus dressage, circus acts and absolutely everything for and about horses, ponies and donkeys. •Paris Expo, Porte de Versailles. Nov 27 to Dec 5. Site: www.salon-cheval.com.