Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

A concrete palace built alongside a hidden underground river from which thousands of the national treasures of the French state have disappeared. Definitely a part of the city worthy of further investigation!

At the entrance to the headquarters of the Mobilier National in the 13th arrondissement of Paris, the architect Auguste Perret placed two concrete guard dogs. Laying motionless on their plinths, they seemingly offer little protection to the state treasures that are stored inside the building. These treasures, perhaps tapestries from the Gobelins workshops or Louis XVI desks, are made available to ministers, bureaucrats and diplomats who are free to choose exactly how they wish to decorate their offices and reception rooms. At the end of their mandates they are supposed to return the goods, but it would seem that this does not always happen. Today, upwards of 16,000 pieces are unaccounted for.

Created over six hundred years ago, the Mobilier National has the role of storing, lending, repairing and sometimes creating a selection of national treasures. Originally based on the Place de la Concorde, by the twentieth century the Mobilier National desperately needed a newer and better adapted structure, and in 1934, modernist Auguste Perret was given the job. The creation he designed and built is one treasure that will hopefully not be allowed to vanish!

Perret was given a rather awkward piece of land to work with, nestled behind the Manaufacture des Gobelins within the grounds of the old family chateau. The terrain has a large slope, and was limited by the contours of the River Bièvre, a small stream which has today been buried underground (and which I will write about in more depth very shortly!). Perret though had a particular idea in his head, and was able to use the slope to his advantage to create a very astucious and interesting structure.

Auguste Perret was at once a rationalist, modernist and a classicist. He received a classic education at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, but became convinced by the qualities of concrete. For Perret though, concrete would architects of the modern era to create structures that would be the equal of those of antique eras. His buildings (the most famous of which are probably the Palais d'Iéna and the Théatre des Champs Elysées) all followed classical rules, and the Mobilier National was no exception.

Perret wanted to create a stately cour d'honneur for the building, but with the 4m slope he needed first to create an artificial ground level. Once this was in place he was able to build the three-sided structure around this courtyard. This raised platform also gave him a natural basement level where vehicles could enter directly from the rear. In many respects, he created a kind of updated version of the Hôtel Particulier with a built-in basement garage!

Although built entirely in reinforced concrete the building is nevertheless an attractive one. Perret believed in a rational use of materials and mostly chose to work only with the simplest block forms, but he often broke his own rules for purposes of decoration. He added traces of coloured marble into the concrete mix to find the perfect tint to the building and produced a series of columns which support a cornice on which the name of the building is written.

And then there are the dogs. A classical touch again, they look out across the sunken stream and make visitors hesitate before entering the building. Unfortunately though, the front of this building, alongside the Square René-Le-Gall, sees few visitors, and the dogs have slipped into an apathetic slumber. Whilst they rest, local dogs come and urinate on them, and members of the powers that be help themselves to the treasures from the unguarded rear of the building.

Red's not Dead

It used to be said that France was the largest Communist country in the Western world. Although post-war Presidents of France have almost exclusively been from right-wing parties, whole swathes of the country have long been run by communist groups, notably in coastal cities and in a red line of towns around Paris. At the height of this position of power and influence, the French Communist party (PCF) decided to build a prestigious new headquarters building, choosing the famous Brazilian modernist and party sympathiser Oscar Niemeyer as chief architect. Niemeyer, who was living in exile in France at the time, worked benevolently on the project.

The building is situated on the otherwise non-descript Place du Colonel Fabien. This place, which in reality is little more than a large roundabout, was previously known as the Place du Combat, and was named after the organized animal fights that used to take place here. It was renamed after the second world war in honour, rather aptly, of a communist militant and resistant who was killed in 1944.

The building is set back from the road, a design decision that Niemeyer took for two reasons. Firstly he wanted to hide a rather unattractive structure situated in a plot behind, and secondly for reasons of secrecy and security. It is almost impossible to see the somewhat sunken entrance from the street, and this coupled with the reflective glass windows of the façade makes it very difficult for observers to see who is entering or who is inside the building. This may seem excessive today, but this is a building that has undoubtedly been regularly under surveillance from secretive governmental organisations.

Beyond these aspects, this is in many ways a typical Niemeyer structure. Modernist in form, with its concrete body raised up on a series of pilotis, it manages to escape the block-like rigidity of other similar structures due to Niemeyer’s insistence on curves. Originally designed in 1965, the building was not fully completed and inaugurated until 1980, and it is perhaps this which has given it a slightly timeless feel. It is undoubtedly elegant from the exterior, but it is the interior which is truly worth seeing. The white dome pushing through the garden courtyard is a clue, but few would imagine the fascinating ‘space-age’ central committee auditorium that lays beneath. Visits are organised in September during the ‘journees de la patrimoine’, but only very exceptionally at other times of the year.

The interior of the Espace Niemeyer (photo taken from www.orserie.fr)

With changing political situations, the Communist party influence has waned in France, and this building has become something of a heavy weight for the party. Too expensive to run, it is nevertheless much in demand (fashion shoots, conferences etc), but how could the party profit from this without renouncing on their fundamental principles? The solution has been to rename the building the ‘Espace Niemeyer’ and to rent out two of the floors to other organisations, one of which is a company producing animation films. This is not as improbable as it sounds as there is something rather graphic and cinematographic about the whole structure. For my son, who only sees the white dome, it is the ‘Tellytubby house’, but who knows where the producers of that programme got their inspiration. Could that also be a clue as to the political sympathies of Tinky-Winky and friends?

Hygienic Housing (Part 2)

What is the connection between the designer of the most elegant brothel in Paris and an organ player at Versailles Cathedral? The answer is Henri Sauvage and Charles Sarazin, a two-man design team who together worked on one of the most original building designs ever constructed in Paris. What is even more exceptional about their construction is that it was built as an HBM (Habitation à Bon Marché), and was created to serve the needs of the poorest members of society.

As noted previously, most of the HBM constructions in Paris were built in a ring around the city. They were generally solid, brick-built buildings, drawn to a similar plan and therefore looked largely alike. However, in smaller units where space was at a minimum, occasional more original designs managed to make it off of the drawing board, and this was certainly the case at the Rue des Amiraux, behind Montmartre.

The arrival of city authorities in the provision of social housing, and the large investments that went with this had inspired architects and designers to outdo each other with new ideas in an attempt to win the hefty contracts. The guiding principles behind the constructions, to house the working classes decently and to promote a healthy living environment and lifestyle, already gave ample inspiration to the architects, but this particular development zone, requiring a building to fill a ‘U’ shape with three facades on two different streets, was an awkward one that needed something ingenious.

Sauvage and Sarazin knew they had the solution, having already completed a similar building (Rue Vavin, 75006) which was the prototype of the construction they planned to build here. The design was in a pyramid shape, with each floor having stepping terraces and large windows that were designed to let in as much sun and air as possible. The most interesting aspect of the design was that the shape left a large internal space, an area that could be used for the encouragement of a ‘healthy lifestyle’. Sauvage wanted a cinema to fill the gap, but the city of Paris insisted on a swimming pool. The design was accepted and the building was opened in 1925.

Original designs from Henri Sauvage

The two men were intensely proud of their revolutionary design. They were so sure were they that it would be copied that they patented the design and created a company to deal with the expected flood of commands, something that never materialised. This is surprising in many ways. The building is still stunning today, dressed in pristine white tiles, with long running balconies interspersed with tall stairways and lift-shafts. Being built largely around a framework of large posts and reinforced concrete it was also a very lightweight structure which required minimal foundations, something that made it relatively cheap to build too. The Paris Metro style tiling ensures that the building is washed clean with each rainfall and it looks to be a thoroughly healthy environment, especially with the swimming pool which today is a municipal facility. It remains a mystery to this day why this was the last such building ever constructed.

The second question to answer is how the designer of a brothel could also be involved in the hygienist movement. Interesting as it may sound today, the two were in fact closely linked. Brothels were legal operations in the early decades of the 20th century, with Sauvage’s creation, Le Sphinx being given permission to open "dans un but de santé publique" (in the interests of public health). Each establishment was closely monitored, with all visitors carefully listed, and regular health checks being obligatory for all who worked inside.

Sauvage himself was a very interesting character. Initially a follower of the Art Nouveau movement and a friend of Guimard, his works were in fact precursors of the modernist movement, albeit with persistent decorative touches. He was an eclectic designer and architect, working on hotels, car parks, and part of the famous Samaritaine shop, always in changing styles that made him very difficult to classify. He died relatively young, aged 58, just two years after his most famous construction was finally terminated. Wild he may have been, but his legacy in the city is a gift of eternal elegance.

On the same theme:
- The story behind the HBMs in Paris
- An unusual school unit