The Galerie Vivienne was
constructed in 1823 by Marchoux, at the time president of the Chambre
des Notaires; he acquired for this purpose no. 6 rue Vivienne, no. 4
rue des Petits Champs, and the Passage des Petits-Pères, which were all
joined together in a single complex just behind the Bibliothèque
Nationale. Initially called after Marchoux, the arcade soon changed
its name to Galerie Vivienne and was opened to the public in 1826 as a
commercial area that housed fashionable shops. Because of its central
location it quickly became very popular and was much frequented.
While Berlioz was locked in the
buildings of the Institut de France writing his cantata La Mort deSardanapale for the Prix de Rome of 1830, the July revolution
broke out; as soon as he had finished his cantata, Berlioz went out in
the streets of Paris to share in the extraordinary atmosphere. In his
Memoirs (ch. 29) he gives a vivid description of those heady days.
One event he relates in detail is his leading of the crowds assembled in
the Galerie Vivienne, recently opened, in a singing of the
Marseillaise, which he had just arranged for chorus and orchestra.
At first the crowd did not respond to the singing of Berlioz’s small
group, but then, as Berlioz relates:
At the 4th stanza I could no longer contain
myself and shouted "For God’s sake, sing!" The crowd then roared
their Aux armes, citoyens! with the precision and power of a
trained choir. You must remember that the arcade which ends at the
rue Vivienne was full, that the one leading to the rue Neuve-des-Petits-Champs
was also full, as was the area of the central dome, and that these
four or five thousand voices were packed in a reverberant area that
was closed, to the right and the left by the wooden shutters of the
shops, above by the glass of the roof, and below by the flagstones
of the arcade. Remember also that the majority of these men, women,
and children were still breathless with the excitement of the
previous night’s fighting. You can then imagine the impact of this
electrifying refrain. For myself, I literally fell to the ground,
and my little band of singers, terrified by this explosion, was
struck completely dumb, like birds after a thunderclap.
Inside the arcade
The entrance on the side of
rue des Petits Champs
The entrance to the arcade on
the side of rue Vivienne
The above entrance in 1825
A historical notice on the
Galerie
outside one of the entrances
This
is the best-preserved of the famed 19th-century shopping arcades in
Paris. The Neo-classic bas-reliefs and luxurious star patterns in the
Italian mosaic floor are particularly impressive to modern eyes. But
watch your step: the different varieties of stone have worn unevenly
over the past 160 years. The floor’s creator, G. Facchina, cleverly
tiled his name and Paris address into several thresholds around the
Galerie in a decorative act of self-promotion. I often wonder if it
worked. Above his floor, the walls are decorated in a celebration of
commerce, with carved cornucopia, anchors, wheat, and beehives; unlike
many Paris arcades, which have fallen into shabbiness, here the paint is
fresh and the glass roof is clean. Structurally, the arcades’ iron
frames support panels of glass that allow light into the interior space,
much like a greenhouse. Several of the roof panels even open to allow
fresh air to circulate. Iron beams are really the first artificial
construction material introduced into European building, which makes
architecture of the 1820s and onwards consistently revolutionary. These
passageways were especially radical at night, when they were illuminated
by the very latest technology: gas lamps. Artists and writers of the
time were amazed and delighted by these “worlds in miniature,” where
Parisians could escape the dangerous and muddy streets, show off their
fine clothes, and window-shop for the first time. When the Galerie
Vivienne first opened, its tenants included a bookshop, a printshop and
an elegant restaurant called the Grignon; today, not that much has
changed. There are luxury boutiques and a bookshop nestled under the
clock flanked by winged Grecians. Sadly, these passages didn’t hold sway
for very long; they were soon displaced by the much larger and more
alluring department stores. But even today, the largest French
department store has kept an arcade reference in its name: Galeries
Lafayette.