Creative Sanctuary

France

Unlocking Versailles

By Allison

keyhole versailles

Photo Courtesy Yann Prigent

With so much to see in Paris, it’s easy to shortchange Versailles.  Over the years, I made a number of half-day trips to Versailles, dreading the lines I’d face waiting to visit the Château and bracing myself for the crowds of fellow tourists.

Recently, though, I’ve come to embrace Versailles as a destination unto itself rather than a simple daytrip from Paris.  The more time I spend in Versailles, the more I grow to appreciate its splendor, history, and dynamism.

Every year, millions of people visit Versailles’ Château, gardens, and Trianon Palaces, and each year the crowds grow!  I have learned how to navigate the swelling crowds of Versailles, and I am setting out to create a guide to the Château, its grounds, and the city of Versailles.  My French co-authors are Art Historian Stéphane Ceccaldi and Professor Yann Prigent.   As we research, write, and photograph, I will share some of my Versailles secrets with you on Creative Sanctuary.  Collected in the My Versailles category of the blog, the brief posts “unlock” Versailles with personal tips and tricks for avoiding long lines at the Château.  I’ll share favorite restaurants at all price points and highlight local hotspots often overlooked by tourists.  Please send questions and inquiries to unlockingversailles@gmail.com.

Colors of the Soul

By Allison

Shinique Smith Stained GlassThe soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.
–Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 5, v. 16

Thanks to my Instagram habit, much of my mental space is occupied by squares.  Within the limits of a square, I sense the freedom to share without words.  I envision a clear, thoughtful grid connecting experiences and exuding harmony.  Imagine my delight when I recently stepped into a contemporary stained glass exhibit that was dominated by square panels!

My first thought was that much like me, the artists were under the spell of Instagram.  But then I thought of the stained glass windows in Chartres Cathedral, a few steps from the museum.  Some of the windows are 900 years old, and most are arranged in circles, squares, and rectangles.  Each window is its own medieval grid, to be read from bottom to top. So, placing a story in the bounds of a square is nothing new, but the immediacy and reach of Instagram is.

The contemporary pieces at the International Stained Glass Centre do not invite a bottom to top reading, but rather offer a sampling of work from artists all over the world, exploring the theme “the search for the light of the world.”  I treat the works as impressions rather than narratives.  My eye goes straight to the tight, bursting center of Shinique Smith’s untitled 2016 panel.  Her energetic swirls are reminiscent of dragon flies that skip across lakes in the summer and remind me of the fairy parties I organize for my nieces and nephew.  Much like the medieval panels in the cathedral across the way, color and light cultivate wonder.  Her work brings forth an inner light that radiates, undulates, and eventually flows from the frame.  Here, the multicolored lumière du monde grows from a dense, interior space of possibility–patterns, shapes and colors in evolution, expressing the harmonious contrasts of the soul.

Keyhole

By Allison

Chartres Cathedral Keyhole

...everything is already present, though hidden.
–Hildegard of Bingen

We’re drawn to the grandeur of Gothic cathedrals—height, history, stained glass, light.  So old!  So holy!  So overwhelming!

I’ve made my way to Chartres Cathedral several times in the last twenty years, and each visit allows me to know the space more intimately. With each day spent wandering the Cathedral, its light, colors, and shapes become more deeply rooted in my internal landscape.  Likewise, I think that through my thought and presence, I become part of the very long history of Notre-Dame de Chartres.  I believe that different versions of myself linger in the transepts, the ambulatories, and on the 13th century labyrinth.

During my last visit to Chartres, the Cathedral was cold and hushed.  More than usual, I absorbed detail.  A small, dried bouquet tacked to a column, a group of women praying the rosary at the foot of a statue of the Virgin Mary, a tunic-shaped keyhole on the North Porch of the church.  The decoration had been already present, though hidden to me, lost among the statues of Old Testament figures.  The minute detail announces that Notre-Dame de Chartres houses the Sancta Camisia, a veil that is believed to have been worn by the Virgin Mary.  A sacred relic, the garment was given to Chartres in 876 by Charlemagne’s grandson, Charles the Bald.  The Sancta Camisia has been credited with protecting the Cathedral over the centuries, and it is still an object of devotion for pilgrims.

Each of my occasional Chartres pilgrimages helps me to unlock present-hidden parts of myself.  The knowledge doesn’t reside in the Cathedral like I once thought.  Rather, I believe that sacred places emanate a peaceful beauty that enables us to access the wisdom we already possess.

Madeline on Our Mind

By Allison

Madeline ParisIn an old house in Paris that was covered with vines
lived twelve little girls in two straight lines

My four year-old niece Sylvie Rose is intrigued by the story of a little girl in Paris named Madeline. Her father bought the storybook for Sylvie before she was even born, and I imagine they have spent many hours reading and rereading about Miss Clavel’s sense that something was not right... about Madeline’s subsequent surgery…the crank on the hospital bed… the dollhouse from Papa…her friends’ hospital visit.

I suspect that some of Sylvie’s devotion to Madeline is due to the fact that she lives in Paris. Sylvie Rose knows that Aunt Allison is a French teacher who makes occasional visits to Paris. Her questions give me glimpses of her four-year old mind: Madeline is a real kid, right? Where is her house? And during my most recent trip to France she called to ask, Did you find her?

I love her intensity and admire her persistence in her search for Madeline. These FaceTime conversations strengthen my bond with my niece, but they have also served as a surprising throwback to my own childhood. When I was seven or eight, I was infatuated with Madeline. My little sister had a pop-up version of the book, and I loved it so! I think I found beauty in the order of the twelve little girls in two straight lines. In two straight lines they broke their bread, and brushed their teeth, and went to bed. These words are etched in my mind.

Madeline was probably my first exposure to Paris, or at least to the idea of Paris. Each monument pictured in the story is now familiar to me—Notre Dame, les Invalides, les Jardins de Luxembourg.  Paris is home to me.  As a little girl in Iowa, these places would have seemed otherworldly. I believe that I chose to study French, in part, thanks to my affinity for Madeline and my curiosity about the vision of France I discovered in her story.

Many years later, Sylvie Rose is weaving her own literary landscape, and Madeline is part of it.  Watching her, the story of the little girl in Paris reemerges, expands, and intersects with my niece’s quest.

 

Inspirations

Ludwig Bemelmans’ Madeline, published in 1939

Reading with kids

The joy of summer reading

 

Transport Me

By Allison

Royal Opera of VersaillesAs soon as I stepped into the theater, a sumptuous hush fell over me.

In its opulence, the Royal Opera of Versailles is somehow cozy.  The rocaille swoops and curves impart lightness, and the gold warms.  The chandelier light is soft.  The 18th century theater is made of wood and holds 712 spectators.  We had gathered to watch Barry Douglas and the Camerata Ireland perform three of Mozart’s Piano Concertos (20, 23, 25).  As people made their way to their narrow, velvety seats, the theater got warmer and our reverent anticipation heightened.

Although Mozart and the Royal Opera are linked to a specific time and place—18th century Europe—the evening felt timeless and placeless.  I was alone, yet surrounded.  I was in France, and I was elsewhere.  The fragile space and ephemeral sound brought on a happy clarity, unbound by geography and time.

 

Inspirations

Official website of the Opéra Royal de Versailles

Official website of Camerata Ireland

 

Savory Valentine Biscuits

By Allison

savory valentine biscuitHeart-shaped cookies abound!  In the spirit of the season, I developed a savory cut out cracker recipe for a Valentine aperitif.  Since I forego frosting and sprinkles, this treat is relatively low maintenance.

My heart biscuits contain a few ingredients, two of which stand out:  Parmesan cheese and Piment d’Espelette.  Piment d’Espelette is a sweet, flavorful red pepper grown in a Basque village called Espelette.  I bought mine in France, but it’s available dried and ground in specialty markets and online.  I use it anywhere I’d use black pepper—in vinaigrettes, on roasted vegetables, and sprinkled on soup.  It’s a little deeper and sweeter than black pepper.  And it’s so pretty.  The subtle, red pepper flakes make my rustic crackers worthy of Valentine’s Day.

If you don’t have Piment d’Espelette in your spice drawer, I suggest using ground pink peppercorns.  They lend a deep pink-purple hue to the crackers and taste just as delicious.

What should you sip with your heart biscuits?  Something bubbly: Champagne, Prosecco, a white beer, or sparkling water with a twist of lime.  Happy Valentine’s Day!

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Holiday Minimalism

By Allison

I have some minor hoarding tendencies, mostly involving excessive amounts of books and clothes.  But when it comes to decorating for the holidays, I prefer a clean, streamlined, and muted look.  A few strands of twinkling white lights, some live greenery, and a dozen or so ornaments compose my Christmas décor most years.

This hand-painted ornament is always a sentimental and aesthetic favorite.  Quimper faïence (hand-painted pottery) comes from Brittany in Western France.  The art dates to the early 18th century, and it is emblematic of Brittany.  Each piece is signed.  Motifs include traditional dress and florals, like the one I feature in this post.

My thoughtful aunt Susie gifted this treasure to me years ago, and each time I slip it from its velvety pouch, my mind returns to our visits in France, Italy, and the Midwest.  Cool and heavy in my hand, this art piece also connects me to the artist who carries on this Breton tradition, as well as to friends from Brittany who have passed through my life over the years.

I admire minimalists for their empty closets and the clean looks they create in their homes.  I am not ready to significantly shorten my book stacks, nor am I prepared to thin out my extensive scarf collection.  Yet I emulate their restraint through my commitment to holiday minimalism.  My light touch keeps me from feeling bogged down by Christmas “stuff.” Each of my ornaments holds a story, which allows me to enjoy the season all the more.

Our Imperative

By Allison

During my last visit to Paris, I spied a few of these messages of love, all sprayed by the same hand.  They delighted me.  Moving about Paris can be stressful, especially given the security measures of recent years—more soldiers, more police vehicles, more security checks.  In short, more fear.

The unexpected love signs were an antidote to the tensions.  They brought a pause, a smile, and a reminder of loving kindness.  This week, in the wake of mind-numbing violence in my own country, people are grasping for words.  I have not pieced together my own thoughts, and I don’t know that I will.  Yet the Paris love graffiti wells up in me.  Its clear, direct message resonates.  Love is an imperative.  Love is our duty, our privilege, and our pleasure.  And this week, it is our balm.

Skimping on Dessert

By Allison

When I entertain, I almost always favor savory over sweet. I’d rather linger over a few small bites before dinner than serve a rich dessert after dinner.

This week, my selection of amuse-bouches required some foresight, but the elements came together easily. I served small portions of quinoa and farro salad with pickled fennel, a white tuna mousse with basil on small crackers, and roasted almonds.

Here’s my strategy for pulling together a harmonious appetizer tray:

The day before your dinner party
*Take stock of your materials. Do you have a sizeable serving tray or platter? Do you have verrines (small glasses), little jars, or shot glasses to serve soup or salad? No worries if you need to mix and match—it adds character and charm. Pull out bread plates, if you have them, and try to get your hands on some square cocktail napkins.

*Make a grain salad or soup. They will both taste even better the day of your gathering. I served this delightful and easily adaptable salad.

*Make a recipe of roasted almonds. I share my recipe at the end of this post. If you don’t have time to roast your own nuts, grab some at the grocery store.

The day of your dinner party
*Lay out your tray and accoutrements.

The hour before your dinner party
*Taste and freshen your soup or salad. Does it need a splash of oil or vinegar? Maybe some salt and pepper? Spoon into serving dishes and garnish with fresh herbs.

*Spread any dips on crackers or thinly sliced baguette. I served this mousse.

*Take a moment to prepare your tray. Resist the temptation of overcharging it with food and decoration. The goal is to whet your guests’ appetites, not stuff them before dinner.

When your guests arrive
*Begin your evening with the aperitif of your choice—sparkling wine, sparkling water, fruit juice, and bourbon are good choices.

*Enjoy conversation and pretty snacks with your guests before the main course.  Slip away when you need to put the finishing touches on dinner.

For dessert
*If you served a generous tray of appetizers, don’t feel obligated to prepare a substantial dessert. This week, I finished my dinner party with small madeleine cakes that I had in the freezer.

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My Madeleines de Proust

By Allison

“…I brought to my lips a spoonful of tea in which I had softened a piece of madeleine.  But at the exact moment when the mouthful mixed with cake crumbs touched my palate, I shivered, attentive to this extraordinary thing that was taking place in me.  A delicious pleasure had invaded me, isolated, no notion of its cause.  It had instantly made me indifferent to the vicissitudes of life, made its disasters harmless, its brevity illusory, in the same way that love operates, filling me with a precious essence:  or more accurately this essence wasn’t in me, it was me.”  –Marcel Proust, Du côté de chez Swann

Shell-shaped madeleine cakes were a part of my life before I ever knew about Marcel Proust and the memory-inducing power of his petites madeleines.  When I was a student in Paris, a bakery close to my school sold five madeleines for five francs—a deal!  At lunchtime, I’d often make my way down the rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs to pick up one of the tidy white bags holding five portable cakes.  Sometimes they were still warm.  Madeleines were my ideal student snack—simple, toothsome, and shareable.  A chocolate éclair or strawberry tartelette would have been more impressive, but the dainty butter cakes comforted me.  I imprinted my own madeleine experience well before encountering Proust.

Later, I would discover that Proust, too, found comfort in madeleines.  In the first volume of his 3,000 page novel Remembrance of Things Past, tasting a madeleine dipped in tea unleashes the narrator’s memory of taking tea and cake with Aunt Léonie.  In French culture, a madeleine de Proust refers to a heart-warming, evocative culinary experience that joins past and present.  Madeleine cakes are one of my madeleines de Proust.  They bring me back to the sweet, exhilarating sadness of being so far from home.  Other sweets unleash my involuntary memory, allowing me a delicious, temporary dance between past and present:  Grandma Rose Mary’s orange cookies, Grandma Mary Ellen’s sticky rolls, and the frosted graham crackers Mom served me as a toddler.  The frosting was always homemade, and she always served them on a rectangular, strawberry-patterned tray that is still in her kitchen.

What foods bring your past into the present?  Tell me about your madeleines de Proust in the comment section.

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