Square Rap in Paris
A few minutes’ walk from the Eiffel Tower, in the prestigious seventh arrondissement of the city of Paris, where, according to tradition, the homes of members of the French nobility and high bourgeoisie are located, Avenue Rapp stretches out in all its proud beauty. In the part of the Avenue near the Fields of Mars, between numbers 33 and 35, there is a small turn, almost a dead end, called Square Rapp, where the short-lived glory of the extremely decorative architectural direction known in France as Art Nouveau culminated. It is the merit of the most extravagant Parisian architect of that artistic direction – Jules Lavirotte, who designed several buildings on that square and the immediate surroundings. Those buildings, on which time had no effect, because they look as if they were built yesterday, still evoke some longing looks from passers-by.
Their charm is only enhanced by the fact that, in that twist, they are in the adequate company of the building of the Theosophical Society of France, an occult organization whose social influence culminated in the beginning of the twentieth century, alongside Art Nouveau. The eclectic mix of ancient symbols, the bookshop with esoteric literature and the theosophical theater fit nicely into the symbolism of a completely different type, which we will notice in nearby Lavirotte’s buildings.
Square Rapp no. 3
Lavirotte’s residential building opposite the theosophical bookstore, on Rapp Square No. 3, is a true representative of Art Nouveau, which, unfortunately, is difficult to see due to the narrowness of the space.
The building was built in 1899, and Lavirott designed this building apparently free of any restrictions. On that building, he began a fruitful collaboration with ceramist Alexandre Bigot, an innovator, industrialist and designer, who almost single-handedly made art out of building ceramics. The two of them shaped every element of the completely ceramic facade of this building as a special sculptural work of art, and they did the same for their next buildings. At the same time, this building shows us the essence of Art Nouveau. Nothing can be ordinary. A door, a pillar, a balcony…, every element of the building is an opportunity to create a sculpture and it should be used. Lavirotte himself lived there, in one of the apartments on the top floor of this building.
Only thirty meters away, in fact just around the corner, is Lavirotte’s most famous building, the building at Avenue Rapp no. 29, the next object he designed. Lavirotte and Bigot entered that project both as co-investors and as designers, and no social conventions could stop them…
Avenue Rapp no. 29 – Lavirotte’s erotic fantasies
Residential building in Rapp Avenue no. 29 is the most extreme example of architectural extravagance that Paris has to offer. In accordance with Parisian customs at the time of construction, the name of the architect and the year of construction are written on the facade in original, decorative letters – arch. Jules Lavirotte in 1901, but Alexandre Bigot must also accept joint responsibility for what has been seen by passers-by on Avenue Rapp for more than a hundred years.
What has given this building its unique, controversial reputation is the interpretation of many admirers, to mention only Salvador Dali, for whom its facade is full of erotic symbols. And indeed, at the front door, an apparently phallus-like basic motif dominates among curled peacocks. The handle on that door is in the shape of Lavirotte’s favorite motif, the lizard, which in Parisian slang means the male genital organ. Above the door is a bust of a woman, then a male nude on the right and an emphatically flirtatious female nude on the left. The creepers, which envelop them, rise up and introduce us to other elements of this complicated facade, right among the phantasmagoric fish and bulls, animals that folk tradition considers the most feminine and the most masculine.
The decoration on the parapet of the first floor is interpreted, no less, than as a sexual act. If such an interpretation of the facade is correct, and why wouldn’t it be, then this building can rightly be said to be “architectural pornography”.
And yet, it was all in the spirit of the times. The atmosphere that reigned in Parisian architecture in those years is best evidenced by the fact that the city authorities announced a competition for the design of the entrance doors on this building, perhaps the only competition of its kind ever. The distinguished sculptor Jean Baptiste Larrive won. At that time, the city actively encouraged architectural attractiveness and awarded the prized annual prize for the most beautiful rendered facade. Lavirotte won the prize for this “pornographic” facade in 1901, and later, as far as is known, at least once more, for the playful ceramic creeper facade of the Ceramic Hotel at Avenue de Wagram no. 34 from 1904.
Rue de Sedillot no. 12
In the vicinity of the square there is another interesting Lavirott building. It is a building in Sedillot Street no. 12, from 1899, which almost touches Rapp Square, although it is oriented to the other side. In this, still relatively conventional building, Lavirott checked how far he could go with exaggerations by designing balconies, windows, front doors, stairs, bay windows and a tower above the entrance. There was no resistance because the investor of the building, Countess Montessuy, gave him the chance to express himself freely. After such an experience, it is no wonder that Lavirrote indulged in all those fantasies in his next projects.
This building itself later had a strange history, so after 1930, under the name Casa d’ Italia, it was the headquarters of the Italian fascist organization in Paris, and then for a while the “Benito Mussolini” polyclinic. With all the fences, let’s note that the choice of this refined object indicates the difference between Italian and German fascism, which found its embodiment in objects of significantly different architectural expression. Today, the Italian secondary school “Leonardo da Vinci” is located in the building.
Jules Lavirotte designed, as far as is known, a total of nine buildings that still stand proudly in the seventh and eighth arrondissements of the city of Paris, all in just a few fruitful years at the turn of the twentieth century. He was a favorite of his fellow citizens, received professional awards and the best jobs, lived in a fairytale apartment in the most beautiful city, the center of the world at that time. Life must have seemed like a dream to Jules Lavirott.
Oh, yes… But let’s not be too envious, because that dream was short-lived. Soon everything changed, quickly and thoroughly…
From triumph to oblivion
The main character of this text, Jules Lavirotte, and his respected colleague Hector Guimard, who, among other things, designed those charming entrances to Paris metro stations, are leading representatives of Parisian Art Nouveau. Both of them (…and the aforementioned sculptor Larrive, by the way) came from Lyon, they were the same age, they had the same interests and style, and at the same time they were in demand and successful. There is no sign that they ever collaborated, it is more likely that they were competitors. But do you know Guimard’s objects? Where are they? Well… to be honest… some have been demolished, including many of the entrances to metro stations. No one particularly objected to it. Simply, both Guimard and Lavirotte, and other colleagues of the same direction, went out of fashion, and after only a few years of receiving all possible recognitions, no one wanted to hire them anymore.
Another trend prevailed. The pioneers of the new wave declared decoration a crime. The building was declared a machine for living, the window became a machine for airing, the balcony – a machine for drying clothes and holding flowers. There is no place for serpentine staircases, lizard-like doorknobs, erotic facades and “you-already-know-what” entrance doors. That, gentlemen, is kitsch, bad taste, backward, it’s the past, it never came back. Form strictly followed function, and anyone who deviates from that lives in the past and is worthy of contempt. It wasn’t long before the raw concrete appeared on the facade, and the rough traces of wooden formwork were its only decoration, primarily because removing those traces would be an “unnatural” intervention. In its purest form, the new, winning, international style in architecture gave birth to the purest ideal of beauty, a tall quadrangular skeletal building with straight, all-glass facades. The other buildings in the area are reflected on that facade, which are also tall, on a rectangular base and have flat glass facades. The general public and professional public were delighted. Because we are all so pure, so refined, …we defeated infectious diseases, we reached the moon…
There was no room for Hector and Jules. Guimard corrected himself a little, softened his style, tried to work for a while longer, and then, resigned, stopped altogether. Frightened by the rise of fascism in Europe, he moved to America, where he died, unnoticed and forgotten. Jules Lavirotte, it seems, did not even try to adapt and simply refused to participate in the creation of new architecture. He died quietly in Paris, and already the following year the Italian fascists bought his building in Rue Sedillot and made it the Paris headquarters of their movement.
And now, after so many years, let’s ask ourselves, on their behalf, one more time (…but quietly, so that no one hears us): will the handle open the door worse, if it is in the shape of a lizard, will the room be worse ventilate through a rounded window, will the water enter the gutter with oval grates more slowly, and will the art, when it leaves the museum and comes to the facade, become kitsch?
The answers to all these questions, except for the last one, are obvious, and they are asked here only for rhetorical reasons, and to that last question each generation must give its own answer.