Halles neighborhood

Les Halles, Paris' belly since the Middle Ages, was destroyed after its move to Rungis in 1969. In their place, a huge hole finally gave birth to a shopping centre, pompously named Forum, which was never anything but an oppressive, dirty and labyrinthine underground space. The underbelly was then reduced to a series of bowels, frequented by hordes of travellers passing through this large railway junction where five metro lines and three RER lines intersect.
Parisians could hardly have expected worse with the Canopée project, which they followed with little interest except for its cost. The result is not prodigious in beauty. However, its construction enabled a good reorganisation of the space and traffic flows.
Of the twelve Baltard pavilions made of cast iron and glass, only one remains, reinstalled in Nogent sur Marne. It is regrettable that at least one of them has not been kept in the centre of Paris, thereby preserving the memory of the vital vocation of this district, which ensured the supply of Paris for over eight hundred years.

Therefore, one can wonder if this district is worth a stroll, apart some nice and interesting spots around cooking (namely Dehillerin, Detou, Simon, la Bovida, Mora and the Librairie Gourmande). Indeed, this colorful district has always had a bad reputation; in the past it was populated with many mobsters and prostitutes around the market, and before its reorganisation the forum contributed in maintaining its bad image.

However, the district has changed a lot in recent years with the attraction of the Montorgueil district, the redesign of the Forum and its gardens and finally to the exhibitions in the beautifully renovated former Bourse du Commerce. In addition, this very old district with a number of beautiful listed facades has one of the most beautiful churches in Paris at its centre.

We start from the rue de l'Arbre Sec, easily reached from the rue de Rivoli and via the Louvre Rivoli metro station, and make a wide loop round the Halles district.

Rue de l'Arbre Sec

Most of the photographs taken by Atget around Les Halles show many carts left in the streets by the «merchants of four seasons» or food peddlers.

The old private mansions, such as those at n° 48 or n° 52, confirm the interest that one can have in this district.

Incorporated into the building on a corner of the street with the rue Saint-Honoré, the Fontaine de la Croix du Trahoir no longer evokes the dark ages of this location. The circular mark on the ground is a reference to the gibbet which stood there from the Middle Ages. The convicted were taken to the Croix du Trahoir for their final prayers before execution. In 1634, the fountain was transferred to its current location, leaning against a wall and with a room above it from which the judges could observe the executed prisoners.
In 1776, it was re-built by Soufflot, who was more inspired for the construction of the Pantheon. Little attention is given to this fountain, and even less to its nymph, very badly located, sculpted by Boizot, as a reference to the one sculpted by Jean Goujon for the initial fountain.

At 115 rue Saint-Honoré, have a look at this old pharmacy created before 1715. On its facade with fine mascarons, one can read inscriptions of that time. It is reported that Fersen used to come here  to get invisible ink for his correspondence with Marie-Antoinette.

Let's now take rue Sauval. From there we can see the Bourse du Commerce recognisable by its circular shape and the Medici column.

Bourse du Commerce Medici Column

The column is all that is left of the palace Catherine de Medici built for herself. Legend holds that Cosmo Ruggieri, Queen's Florentine astrologist, predicted she would die near Saint-Germain. Therefore, the queen avoided the castle of Saint-Germain en Laye and the area around Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois and had a palace built here, which she lived in for fourteen years. At the time of her death in the castle of Blois, an abbot approached her. His name? The Abbot of Saint-Germain...
The Column was inside the mansion, in a corner courtyard, the first floor of which was the Queen's appartment. The Column has a narrow spiral staircase, which her astrologist had to climb to observe and decipher the constellations.
The palace, later the Hotel de Soissons, was demolished in 1748. However, the Column was considered of sufficient interest to be preserved and integrated into the new Corn Exchange, transformed in 1885 into the Bourse du Commerce. Superbly renovated and now part of the Pinault Collection, I recommend that you visit it to find out more about its history and also to discover contemporary artists.

Church of Saint-Eustache

Today, the best view toward this superb church is from the new gardens facing the south side, once dominated by the Baltard pavilions.

Wandering one night in Paris in this area in October 1852, the writer Gerard de Nerval let these lines:
“’What a lovely night!’ I said as I saw the stars sparkling above the immense expanse of Les Halles: to the left, next to the poultry market, you have the dome of the corn market with its cabbalistic column…to the right, you have the butter market and further on, the meat market, still under construction. The picture is completed by the greyish silhouette of Saint-Eustache…beautifully illuminated by moonlight, which plays on its Gothic armature, its flying buttresses which protrude like the ribs of some prodigious whale…"

The image is so true, so moving: like the ribs of some prodigious whale …

Its main entrance rue du Jour, on the west side, looks like a small copy of Saint-Sulpice. From the gardens, you might have noticed the deer's head at the top of the south transept. Saint-Eustache was a Roman general  converted to Christianity after a miracle during a hunt.

The church, built upon the foundations of a chapel consecrated to Saint Agnes, has also several references to the Saint, notably on le banc d'œuvre; This impressive ornate bench was reserved for officials and important parishioners.

Part of these important parishioners were the merchant guilds. Some of them donated the curious stained-glass window dedicated to Saint Antoine, patron saint of charcutiers (pork butchers), where a pig and even sausages can be seen...!

Stained glass window (with a cute pink pig!)

Unfairly ignored, the church also preserves the memory of many historical figures: Molière, born on rue Saint-Honoré at the corner of rueSauval, was baptised here. Louis XIV made his First Communion here and Colbert, buried here, rests under a magnificent mausoleum sculpted by Coysevox.

I also like the colourful and naive sculpture by Raymond Mason depicting with some bitter tenderness, the departure in 1969 of the last fruit and vegetable merchants. Another work, also full of tenderness, is the triptych by Keith Haring.

If you like organ concerts, there are free organ concerts on Sunday afternoons. I remember Jean Guillou, who was the titular organist for more than fifty years. He excelled in the interpretation of all works, both classical and modern, playing with a breathtaking and energetic virtuosity. In contrast, somehow with his size and age, he was making this big church all vibrating with absolutely Dantesque sounds.

I would like also to say a word about the church tradition of serving meals with the help and generosity of volunteers. Same generosity that could be the origin of the French word clochard (tramp). There are several hypotheses on the origin of the word, but this one I prefer:  Each day, a bell (cloche in French) in the Halles was announcing the end of the market so that the poor could benefit of the unsold goods.

One day I was leaving the church by the south side, I saw two skateboarders racing down from the garden, finishing against the wall of the church with a laughing barbarian gesture. I got a similar exasperation a little bit later in front of the Fountain of the Innocents, all degraded by its use as playground, display of political slogans and dustbin.

Fortunately, the sculpture by Henri de Miller, a big soft head turned down on the ground, invites to calm and pause. Its name is Ecoute (Listen). Let's walk towards the gardens from where we have a unique view of Saint-Eustache. Let's sit down and ... listen the past rumour of the crowd coming every evening, with the products from the coast and the countryside.

Halles de Baltard

Les Halles – Marchande de volailles
Atget
(BnF)

I cannot speak about Les Halles, so lively described by Zola in his book the belly of Paris, since they were transferred to Rungis in 1969. The only memory, and rather vague is an onion soup taken with all the family after a late night. I just remember that I was rather sleepy. And certainly I could see no point in taking a broth with some disgusting smell, so late in the night or so early in the morning!

My first precise memory is when in the early 70s, I went with my mother to a restaurant in les Halles where the former market was replaced by a huge hole. Impressive was also the  view of the church of Saint-Eustache, standing as if on the edge of a cliff, like resisting to an other wind of History.

Les Halles
Atget- 1910/1911
(MoMA)

To get some idea of the market, I could recommend reading the Belly of Paris, giving a prodigious description of the food market at the end of the 19th century.

The French movie Deadlier than the Male (Voici le temps des Assassins) shot by Julien Devivier in 1956, gives also a hint of the nocturnal atmosphere of the market. Especially this scene of Danièle Delorme going out from Les Halles metro station and wandering through the bustling Pavilions.

Finally, there are the precious images of the INA, such as for example: the Halles in 1952. 

We now walk towards the east side of the church, where was standing in medieval times the pillory of the Halles. The pillory was used to punish the indebted or the dishonest traders. The former rue Pirouette, now sunk under the forum, was named so because the street was near the pillory. The pillory was a rotating device where the condemned man was exposed for two hours. Two hours were the time it took for the device to make a complete turn, and therefore to make a complete pirouette.

Rue Montorgueil