Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘17th Arrondissement’


Square des Batignolles and its Sounds

AFTER HIS FAILED ATTEMPT to oust King Louis-Philippe in 1836, Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte, nephew of Napoléon I, spent a period of exile in England. He returned to France in 1848, organised a coup d’état in 1851 and took the throne as Napoléon III on 2nd December 1852.

While in exile in England, Louis-Napoléon developed a taste for English gardens and during his time as Emperor he established several English-style gardens in Paris. His re-designed Bois de Boulogne for example was based on Hyde Park in London.

One of the English-style gardens he ordered to be constructed was the Square des Batignolles in what is now the 17th arrondissement.

Square des Batingolles

The engineer Jean-Charles Alphand, the architect, Gabriel Davioud, and the horticulturist and landscape architect, Jean-Pierre Barillet-Deschamps, were given the task of converting a wasteland into an English-style garden in the quartier Batignolles, a suburb absorbed into the City of Paris in 1860.

Square des Batingolles

Covering about four acres, the Square des Batignolles was designed as an English landscape garden in a style first made popular by the English landscape architect, Capability Brown.

In contrast to earlier formal gardens with their geometrically designed parterres and pathways, severely clipped shrubbery, and the artificiality of their topiary, the English landscape garden gives the impression of working with nature rather than imposing the gardener’s will on nature.

The idea was to create the illusion that the gardens were untouched by human hands. The landscape architect employed his artistry, through the use of various forms of asymmetric balance, to convince the visitor that the apparent wildness and randomness of the terrain was the product of artful Nature, rather than the artifice of Man.

The English landscape garden also relies heavily on symbolism by using objects that are clearly man-made (architectural follies) as focal points for gazing at the overall landscape. These usually take the form of faux ruins, temples, tea-houses, belvederes, gazebos or pavilions.

Square des Batignolles

The gazebo in Square des Batignolles

These follies were supplemented by vast rolling lawns, well-placed copses of trees, quaint stone bridges, pieces of statuary casually installed in the landscape, grottos, strategically located ponds and watercourses, small waterfalls, and artificial cascades. In the English-style gardens in Paris exotic vegetation was also planted, both to amaze the senses but also to display the power and reach of the Second Empire, which was capable of gathering and nurturing living species from all over the world.

Square des Batingolles

Vautours (Vultures) created by Louis de Monard in 1930 

The Square des Batignolles incorporates all the key features of the English landscape garden.

Amidst the extensive rolling lawns is a large pond fed by a natural stream, home to large Japanese koi carp and over three hundred ducks of various species. In the middle of the pond stands a statue created by Louis de Monard in 1930 called Vautours (Vultures) and close by is a bust of the poet, Léon Dierx (1838–1912), created by Bony de Lavergne in 1932. Perched on top of a mound looking out over the garden is a gazebo.

The pathways weaving through the garden are shaded by a variety of trees ranging from the 140 year old oriental plane trees to a relatively young giant sequoia. There are hazelnut trees from Asia Minor, Siberian elms, Japanese cherry trees, ash trees, willows, black walnuts, and others.

Square des Batingolles

Undoubtedly, the Square des Batignolles brings an English landscape into this part of Paris … but what of its soundscape?

Square des Batignolles

Well, if one sets aside the excruciating cacophony currently pervading the garden from construction of part of the new extension to Métro Line 14 immediately outside the southern entrance, a clue to the soundscape in the Square des Batignolles can be found in the lyrics of ‘Les Batignolles’ written by the French songwriter Yves Duteil:

“So, in the Square des Batignolles

I forded the river to see the pigeons flying.

We were running to catch them …

On the deck, watching the clouds,

We inhaled the crazy smell

That emerged from passing steam locomotives

And, at the heart of the white smoke,

Everything else disappeared …”

Pont de Cardinet

From the Square des Batignolles: Rail tracks running under Pont Cardinet

Sounds from the Square des Batignolles:

The locomotives may not run on steam any more and there is no white smoke but trains do still pass hard by the south-western side of the Square des Batignolles.

The Gare Saint-Lazare, one of the six main line railway stations in Paris, is within walking distance of the south-western tip of the Square des Batignolles. At the north-western tip is the Gare de Pont-Cardinet. From Gare Saint-Lazare, long distance Intercity trains run towards Normandy and regional Transilien trains run to the western suburbs of Paris. Some 1,600 trains enter and leave Gare Saint-Lazare every day and every one of them passes the Square des Batignolles.

Square des Batingolles

While the mind-bending sounds of the Métro construction work just outside the garden are temporary, the sounds of the passing trains are a permanent feature of the garden’s soundscape; they’ve been here since before the garden was built.

I recorded the penetrating sounds of the trains from the south-western edge of the garden close to the railway lines but, further into the garden, the sounds of the trains become intricately woven with the sounds of playful children, trickling streams, artificial waterfalls, the wildlife and the Pétanque players, thus enhancing the soundscape rather than detracting from it.

Square des Batignolles



A Disused Railway Line and Parisian Birdsong

A WALK ALONG THE Rue Pouchet in the 17th arrondissement led me to a bridge crossing the railway line of the old Chemin de Fer de Petite Ceinture.

Built between 1852 and 1869, the Petite Ceinture or, Little Belt, railway line was the first public urban transportation service in Paris, and was the forerunner of today’s Paris Métro.

It comprised a thirty-five kilometre line that encircled Paris and it was built mainly for transporting goods between the five main railway stations in Paris, but it also offered a public transport service up until 1934.

The first Paris Métro line opened in 1900 with more central, more modern and more rapid rolling stock, together with more comfortable stations and more competitive prices than the Petite Ceinture. Consequently, the urban passenger service of the Petite Ceinture gradually began to decline. In addition, the local goods traffic grew. The Petite Ceinture operators used the loss of passenger traffic to decrease the number of passenger train movements and increase the number of goods train movements since the transportation of goods was much more lucrative than transporting urban passengers.

Eventually, the urban passenger service ceased on 22 July 1934 and was replaced by a bus service.

Today, twenty-three kilometres of the railway tracks of the Petite Ceinture remain. Large parts have been turned into nature parks and green walkways like the one I found in the 17th arrondissement.

Birdsong Beside the Disused Tracks:

In between part of the disused railway track and the small Rue du Colonel-Manhès is a delightful green walkway, which doesn’t look at it’s best in February but which I expect looks delightful in the springtime.

Even so, on a cold February afternoon, the birds were singing heartily, defying the traffic noise and the rain and keeping the spirit of the Chemin de Fer de Petite Ceinture alive.


A Parisian Disgrace

On Saturday I had a very interesting afternoon – a walk in the 17th arrondissement, discovering new sights and sounds. I walked from La Fourche to the Cemetière-des-Batignolles – a walk that one can do along the Avenue de Clichy in fifteen or twenty minutes but which on Saturday took me four hours! I made many diversions discovering new streets and many Parisian secrets that I had not come across before – like this one:

Eglise Saint-Michel-des-Batignolles

The end of my walk brought me to the Cemetière-des-Batignolles.

In life, most of us search for quiet moments of peace and tranquillity. For us city-dwellers that is often hard to come by. But in death, peace and tranquillity must surely be an entitlement. But not it seems if you are entombed in the Cemetière-des-Batignolles!

My visit to this cemetery both engaged and enraged me. It engaged me because I could feel this blog piece coming on – it enraged me because it seems that, when the so-called public interest takes precedence, respect – especially for the dead – seems to fly out of the window. The public interest in this case being the need to build a ring road encircling Paris.  The work began in 1958 and was completed in 1973.

Just think about it – at some point a city official, a fonctionnaire – overpaid, over-holidayed and over-pensioned – decided to attach his (it could have only been a man!) seal of approval to the building of a multi-lane ring road – known as a beltway in the US I believe – or the Périphérique as it’s known here in Paris, right over the top of the graves in this cemetery.

It is simply outrageous and a disgrace!

The lady entombed beneath these flowers is still clearly loved and remembered with affection – the fresh flowers speak volumes. But I can’t help feeling that she rests tormented by the dust and grime gathering around her and the sound of the constant traffic passing over the Periph’ above.

There are no exciting, glamorous or romantic sounds of Paris here – just the constant, repetitive and ugly sounds that the dead have to endure.

I recorded this sound at the foot of the lady’s grave:

The Cemetière-des-Batignolles was here first, long before the Périphérique was even thought of! It was founded in 1833, expanded in 1847 and expanded again in 1883.

The Russian opera singer, Feodor Chaliapin was buried here until the Soviet Union demanded the return of his remains. Chaliapin was lucky because today, the bodies that are buried here are denied any peace and tranquillity – instead they suffer constant noise pollution and for those lying under, or close to, the monstrous structure of the Périphérique overhead, the constant stream of traffic dust lies thick on their graves. “Ashes to ashes – dust to dust” has never been truer than it is here.

To Georges Pompidou, under whose Presidential reign this sacrilege was perpetrated, and to the fonctionnaires responsible for approving the plans, I say again – this is a disgrace. Shame on you!