Cluny Museum

The Cluny Museum is dedicated to the history and art of medieval Europe. The Cluny has collected some magnificent and sumptuous art objects originating from all over the western world: crowns, crosses, tryptics, stained-glass windows, seals, columns, etc. "Medieval" is a fairly fluid period -- there are some Gallo-Roman pieces from before the common era, and there are even some drinking vessels from the 17th century. I visited on the advice of my friend Guillaume, who told me that it was thanks to his visit to the Cluny that he began to appreciate and enjoy medieval history (note: the 1-euro audioguide isn't worth it).

I was amazed by the condition in which some of the pieces have been preserved: one of the first items is a room full of the stained-glass windows, commissioned by Henry the Liberal, count of Champagne (yes, that's his name), dating from the 12th and 13th centuries, from Troyes France. Something as fragile as a pane of glass has survived for over 800 years on this violent planet! The oldest pane depicted Saint Nicholas, but a slightly newer pane pictured Saint Martin giving his cloak to the beggar, a recurring motif in my voyages.

The Cluny Museum, formerly a hotel, is attached to the ruins of a Roman Bath, the frigidarium, which contained the cold baths. It was cold out, and the poorly-insulated ruins were appropriately frigid. The frigidarium is now the home of the pilier des nautes, a 1st-century pillar from Lutecia (Roman Paris), which might be the oldest Gallo-Roman artifact with a legible inscription (there's a nice photo of a reconstruction online). Depicting Jupiter, Vulcan, and some other deities, it was a gift to the emperor Tiberius (r. 14-37 C.E.).

Many of the artifacts were elegant and well-made, but far fewer were truly interesting. Occasionally, though, I found real pieces of history -- an ivory plaque depicting Christ blessing the marriage of the Holy Roman Emperor Otto II to the Byzantine princess Theophano (c. 982), the cheery-looking Apostle, depicted as a Greek philosopher, which once decorated the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris (c. 1240s); the very graceful angelic sculptures of Poissy commissioned by Phillip the Fair for his grandfather Saint Louis; the 7th-century votive crowns from Visigoth Spain; the large iron canister once used to measure the dîme (tithe) in France; the reliquary owned by Saint-Louis, in which he kept the relics from three other saints; the Jewish wedding ring from Italy; the tapestry depicting a grape-harvest; the manual of medieval combat techniques; etc. I recognized, from my first visit to the Louvre, the elaborate and unique style of the enameled work in gold from Limousin and Limoges, which was kind of cool.

No, I did not neglect the museum's most famous piece, wall hanging known as La Dame à la Licorne, or the "Lady with the Unicorn." The work comprises six 15th-century Lyonnais tapestries, each one with the same woman, in a garden full of animals and other symbols, among which is always a unicorn. The first five tapestries depict the five senses; the woman is variously depicted with a bowl of fruit, with a harp, with rich perfumes, etc., and for touch, she is stroking the neck of the unicorn. The tapestries, first of all, really are quite beautiful, rich with color, and uniting the medieval themes of the garden of love, the bestiary, and allegory; the backgrounds bear the "thousand flower" motif, popular in the later middle ages. One of the great mysteries of the ensemble, however, is the sixth tapestry; a young girl is presenting the woman with the necklace which she is seen wearing in the other five tapestries, and on a tent behind them is embroidered the device A mon seul desir, meaning "to my one desire." Is this supposed to represent some sort of sixth sense? If so, what? In the high middle ages, the notion of love as the sixth sense was quite popular, but in the Renaissance, intellect was regarded as a sort of sixth sense. Have an idea? Send it in to the Cluny Museum!

~JD

"Le maintien a tout prix de l'axe economique des foires de Champagne aux ports d'Aiguesmortes peut etre considere juque sous le regne de Philippe VI comme le fondment meme de ce qu'on peut des lor appeler la politique economique officielle" [The maintenance at all cost of the economic axis between the faires of Champagne and the ports of Aiguesmortes can be considered to be the very foundation of what one might call the official economic policy, up until the reign of Philip VI] (Robert-Henri Bautier).