The imposing facade of the church of St Pierre de Chaillot in Paris is a puzzle from the start: It is massive, its geometry is unlike almost any other church, and it appears almost as if it could be a transplanted ancient Egyptian or Indian temple—but on closer inspection it is both clearly a Christian church and not ancient at all.
I first spotted it a few years ago on one of my wanderings through Paris and knew I’d need to return sometime when it was open; this year was the opportunity.
Despite its bows to Romanesque and occasionally Byzantine and baroque decorations and shapes, it’s less than a hundred years old. It’s often referred to as Art Deco, although one writer has described it as “jazz moderne.” Despite its apparent mass and weight, it’s a modern building with a steel frame. Concrete is very apparent in many places where an earlier church would have had stone.
But all that disappeared for me when I walked inside. The suffused light and the massive spaces; the dramatically-placed sculpture on simple surfaces contrasted with rich carving and painting on others was overwhelming. I almost had a feeling of having wandered beneath the earth into some ancient halls.
If that seems awfully dramatic, I hope my photos can convey some sense of how it felt.
The church was built in the mid-1930s, designed by Emille Bois, the chief architect of Paris, with private funds. Henri Bouchard was the sculptor of most of the facade, and other prominent artists worked on the interiors and stained glass windows.
The parish dates back to the 11th century, and the present church replaced one built in the 1790s. Although the church looks as if it fits well with its surroundings, the original plan was to clear them away for a free-standing church.
The older church had its main entrance on Rue de Chaillot, where the new one has its back; that put the monumental facade on the more fashionable Avenue Marceau. The Rue de Chaillot side, below, appears as an impregnable fortress, quite different from the front!
Fashionable was an issue here; the old church was a favorite of ‘society,’ and saw the funerals of such figures as Guy de Maupassant and Marcel Proust. The new church has seen many ‘society weddings,’ and the funeral of Ettore Bugatti. When Pope John XXIII was the Papal Nuncio in Paris, it was his church.
Although St Pierre de Chaillot is totally different in feel and appearance, it did remind me of St Jean de Montmartre, another ‘modern church’ in Paris, built thirty years before in a blend of Art Nouveau and Gothic styles. It is more explicitly ‘industrial modern’ with its steel structure visible, but both churches reflect a willingness to question what a church needs to do to be a church.
Almost every trip sets me a new task: Something to return to for more study, something new to dig into, someone more to find out about. I have a feeling that modern churches may now be looming on my horizon…
