The late, great chef Anthony Bourdain traveled the world over and used the culinary arts, the kitchen, the local food, as a way to connect with people in their native settings and customs. The connections fostered between people from different backgrounds and cultures, the experiences gained no other way, were established by the sharing of food. Travel was but a means of making those connections.
Making art gives me a passport, if you will, to travel and to experience, to document my impressions, and to connect with others and foster friendships. During my recent trip to Paris, I had many happenstance opportunities to make meaningful, if only brief, connections that added to the flavor, the texture, the moments of my travel experience.
One such happenstance occurred when I wandered into Sacré Cœur de Montmartre one Sunday evening. I was on my daily outings when I entered the church to make a few sketches. Little did I know I was about to experience Sunday evening mass! And definitely for the first time, mass spoken and sung in the French language.
So, unplanned as most of my visit was, I chose to stay and to experience mass.
My first visit to Sacré Cœur de Montmartre was on my first visit to Paris in the spring of 1985. I was an idealistic young person intent on moving to Paris during that visit. I remember on that first trip walking around the front of the church and taking a seat on the front steps, looking out upon the city of Paris below.
Almost forty years later, I find myself once again spending time in this artistic Parisian “quartier,” or neighborhood of Paris.
La Basilique du Sacré Cœur de Montmartre, opened in 1875, sits on the top of "la butte," the hill that towers over the city of Paris in the 18th arrondissement (XVIIIe arrondissement,) one of 20 arrondisssements or districts of Paris.
I spent a great deal of time near Sacré Cœur sketching during my recent June visit to Montmartre.
One Sunday afternoon, I was sitting at an outdoor café on the Rue de Chevalier-de-la- Barre making a sketch of the view of the street, Rue de Mont Cenis, that was in front of me. Often, I took the stairs on the Rue de Mont Cenis to go up and down the butte so I was familiar with what I was sketching.
Where I was sitting is a huge tourist attraction, with many visitors and tourists milling about, sitting in cafés, visiting the little shops that line the rue.
Many of the visitors are getting their portraits drawn by the many artists walking about with a clipboard in their hand and drawing paper attached. One such artist came by to see what I was doing seated at my café table. I shared my sketchbook with him and he nodded his head in approval.
A little later, at 4 in the afternoon, I heard the sonorous bells of Sacré Cœur to my right. A little later after finishing my drawing, I decided at that time to walk towards the basilique.
I noticed that people were entering the church so I decided to go inside. I went inside and looked about with wonder. I decided to sit down in one of the wooden pews and began to sketch.
As a young kid, I remember attending mass with my beloved maternal grandmother Edythe at Saint Joseph’s Parrish when I would go to visit her in Yakima, Washington. My parents were married in this church and it is where I was baptized. I remember as a kid sitting in the pew looking about with awe at the interior of the intimate Italian Renaissance church. I marveled at the intricate and beautiful stained glass windows, the paintings on the ceilings, and the gorgeous carved marble of the alter that had a replica of Michalengelo’s “Pietà.”
Fast forward to June 2022…..I was doing the exact same thing as an adult sitting in the pew of Sacré Cœur de Montmartre. I thought of my grandmother. I thought of my youth. Memories flooded over me of yesteryear. I thought of how I am now an artist greatly influenced by history and find communion in making art.
And at the same time, I relished the moment of being in the “now.” I relished sharing the experience of sitting in a sacred setting with others, many who were visitors, many who were locals, during this time of personal and spiritual reflection.
I observed the participants and noticed how many were in deep contemplation, with eyes closed.
I carefully made sketches of my surroundings during the mass.
As I drew, I listened to the mass and was able to make out a few words of French. I also found myself exquisitely present as this is what drawing does for me…grounds me in the present…observing, recording images not only in my journal but in my memory.
After mass, upon exiting the building, I met a young man who participated in the ceremony, Jean-Francis, who was the censer during the mass. The censer swings the incense. Jean-Francis is also in my sketch in the front of the alter as the Preist prepares the communion.
As were most of my conversations in Paris with the locals on this trip, we spoke French and English. Mostly French. Slow French. Jean-Francis speaks about as much English as I do French (but improving all the time!) but we understood each other quite well.
Jean-Francis has never been to the United States, but he has seen pictures of Wyoming and thinks the state is beautiful. Jean-Francis also lit up when I said the band Nirvana is from my state.
I collected rose petals from the floor of the church and will keep them in my journal as a memento of the afternoon.
Communion - Meaningful moments, connections, and memories in Paris, France. Making artwork was the means.
À Suivre….(to be continued…)
Mary Lamery is a lifelong resident of Seattle, Washington, USA and native of the Pacific Northwest.
Lamery paints regional landscape and makes drawings in a manner that leans towards 19th century French Impressionism.
Her landscapes and drawings invite the viewer to add to the backstory of the composition through personal identification with the paintings and story telling of the experience.
Mary’s drawings and paintings are featured at her storefront Artist Residency at the Fairmont Olympic Hotel, Seattle, Washington though 2022.