About a year ago, I heard the term “grace note” for the first time, and I was enchanted. My homespun definition of grace note sprouted up immediately: an after-the-fact recognition or insight that brings peace. Looking back and understanding that being denied a certain job or that suffering a breakup was in your best interest because your career subsequently took an interesting turn or a better partner came your way. Seeing that a house you bid on and lost was a blessing because you eventually bought a house that is lighter, brighter, and prettier.
I soon learned that grace note is actually a musical term—a musical note added as an embellishment. My quaint understanding of grace note is not accurate, but it’s not all wrong either. Life’s narrative contains all sorts of markings that denote joy, loss, accomplishment, or grief. Grace notes dot our lives, shining light on once-perplexing events. These markings of clarity are gifts.
Of course, I know that some trying experiences remain opaque and incomprehensible. This is the nature of life and makes grace notes all the more cherished. Time is a remedy, but it does not always bring understanding. Odilon Redon’s Cinq papillons (Five Butterflies) evokes the flitting, unexpected beauty brought on by grace notes. Some of Redon’s strokes seem partial or unfinished, reminding me of life’s rough-hewn endings. These creatures are bold yet wavering. And so are we. As we grieve, forgive, and move forward with purpose, touches of grace grant lightness and serenity.
This massive architectural wonder hides many secrets within its walls. Located in the Fifth Arondissement, the Mosque is constructed in the Moorish style, as seen by its arches, courtyards, intricate tiling, and lush gardens. The towering minaret reminds onlookers that the Parisian skyline boasts more than cathedral spires and the Eiffel tower. While impressive from the exterior, the true beauty of this structure lies within. The interior is linked by open-air courtyards surrounding a botanical garden and a bubbling fountain. La Grande Mosquée de Paris offers something for everyone: a school, library, restaurant, tearoom, prayer room, and bathhouse are all found within its walls. However, the Mosque’s worth extends beyond its physical features.
Tucked between white marble works of centuries past in the Louvre’s Cour Puget resides Jean Michel Othoniel’s La Rose du Louvre, a painting series that only just recently made its way into the historic halls of the Louvre’s permanent collection, in October 2019. Othoniel’s work was commissioned to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the Chinese-American architect I.M. Pei’s Pyramid that stands at the entrance to the museum.
The old master Peter Paul Rubens served as Othoniel’s inspiration for the flower that he hoped would become a symbol of the heart of French artistic tradition. Rubens’ work Wedding of Marie de’ Medici to Henri IV provided the very floral motifs on which La Rose du Louvre is based. The abstract representation of a rose seen in each panel carries a dual symbolism for Othoniel. Floral imagery is often packed with symbolic potential, and Othoniel’s project taps into this meaning in an effort to illuminate the subtleties that flowers have to offer. The choice of the rose shows intentionality, as Othoniel associates “la reine des fleurs” with “le roi des musées.” Symbolic of the Louvre’s position of cultural power and explanatory of some of the stories held within the museum’s vast corners, La Rose du Louvre took very little time to transition between its first presentation on May 25, 2019 and its permanent induction some five months later. Visually, the work is also at home, as its black ink on gold leaf creates a pleasing aesthetic as the work is flanked by its sculptural neighbors. Othoniel expounded on the symbolism of flowers inherent in La Rose du Louvre with his accompanying text Herbier Merveilleux, or The Secret Language of Flowers. Owing to Othoniel’s artistic dedication to floral forms as well as the familiarity he gained with the Louvre while working as warden, the text is a guide to the intricate meanings found within the flowers of the Louvre.
Today, Nicolas Flamel may be best known as the supposedly immortal philosopher who plays a key role in the Harry Potter franchise. In real life, his house at 51 rue de Montmorency – la maison de Nicolas Flamel – has gained an immortality of its own as the oldest still-standing house in Paris.
At the turn of the nineteenth century, a new art movement took the world by storm and situated itself within the prominent visual identity and culture of Europe and the United States. Although the movement originated in England, with artists like William Morris and Walter Crane, the most prominent and utilized title for the artistic era was the French phrase, l’Art Nouveau, literally translating to, “the new style.” Artists and craftsmen came together with the intentions of breaking away from the traditional and academic study of fine art in an attempt to redefine and redistribute art by imbuing everyday objects with beauty. Rather than referencing the classical and mythological subjects and styles of the past, artists looked to the forms found in nature as well as the various subjects and styles of Japanese woodblock prints. Works manifested as fine art with painting and sculpture, graphic art with drawings and prints, and in more uncommon mediums, such as jewelry, glasswork, and ceramics.
In spring 2020, my students and I embarked on an exploration of the City of Lights in our Unlocking Paris class. Each student investigated an aspect of Paris that might not be known to the typical tourist–artistic movements, architecture, and monuments. They then composed blog posts dedicated to their subject, went through peer editing, and finally revisions. Over the next month, I will feature their insightful, lively work on Creative Sanctuary. Our hope is to share beautiful Paris with our readers. I launch the series with my post on Paris’ Covered Passages.
Every so often I take a day or two to engage in extreme rest. I have created a structured life for myself, so it is never convenient, never easy to drop everything in favor of rest. But I’ve found that stillness staves off burnout. Letting my thoughts fall away energizes me. And successive naps in the span of a few days reengage my creativity, helping me to maintain levity and optimism.
This week’s flames at Notre-Dame de Paris sunk us into collective grief and then unified us in hope, as we learned that much of the structure and most of the art had been saved. Many Gothic cathedrals have been lost to flames, but in their grace we forget their fragility.