On the Champ de Mars

Cindy at enclos*ure2 Comments

When we visited Paris in the first days of spring, the edges of the pleached trees on the Champ de Mars were still razor sharp.

Located between the Eiffel Tower and the Ecole Militaire, the park was named for the Campus Martius — ‘Mars Field’ — in ancient Rome, which was dedicated to the god of war. (Click any photo to enlarge it.)

In the 18th and 19th centuries, the lawns were used for military marching and drilling.  They were opened to the public just before the French revolution.

In the 16th century, the space had been part of an area was called Grenelle and was set aside for market gardening plots.

The trees are London plane trees, Platinus x acerifolia (or x hispanica).  In France, they are called platane à feuille d’érable (maple leaf plane tree).

Below, you can see how the park’s gardeners keep them sheared, thanks to the blog Pattersons in Paris.

Available . . .

Cindy at enclos*ure1 Comment

This was a small advertising poster for Frances Benjamin Johnston’s photography business in 1895, via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.

I think the image of a woman striding into the landscape with a case of tools in hand (and others tucked firmly under her arm) must have been quite a bold one for that time (although she was well supported by her sleeves).

The artwork was by Mills Thompson.

Milkweed

Cindy at enclos*ure3 Comments

“Milkweed” by Mary Frances Carpenter Paschall, 1900. Part of a collection of “artistic photographs” by early women photographers donated to the Library of Congress by Frances Benjamin Johnston.

. . . I look down now. It is all changed.
Whatever it was I lost, whatever I wept for
Was a wild, gentle thing, the small dark eyes
Loving me in secret.
It is here. At a touch of my hand,
The air fills with delicate creatures
From the other world.

— James Wright, “Milkweed,” The Branch Will Not Break

In Brussels Park

Cindy at enclos*ure4 Comments

I noticed the bare, pleached trees near the end of the taxi ride from the airport  — a double row of long limbs on high, grid supports.

As soon as we dropped our bags at the hotel (and after a mid-morning snack of Liege waffles), we walked back to Brussels Park.

The Parc de Bruxelles (or Warandepark in Dutch) is the largest urban park in the city center, as well as the oldest. A rectangle, it is capped on the north end by the Belgian Parliament (the park is on a north-east to south-west axis) and on the south end by the Royal Palace (below).

In the 12th century, it was the hunting ground for the dukes of Brabant. In 1774, Empress Maria Therese of Austria (the ruler of Brussels at that time) ordered that the space be turned into a French-style garden.

The original design by Barnabé Guimard remains to this day.  The predominate feature of the layout — that the north fountain and the two outer wide allées form the shape of an architect’s compass — reflects the influence of Free Masonry in 18th c. Brussels.

While formal, symmetrical, and on a grand scale, the park is simply planted with banks of shrubs, forest-style groupings of tall (naturally shaped) trees, and the rows of pleached lime trees, which border the whole garden and the north fountain.

Curvy, auxiliary paths wind between the main allées.

On the west side is a lovely 1841 bandstand designed by Jean-Pierre Cluysenaer.

The park also contains about 60 sculptures inspired by Roman-Greek myths.  Most were originally taken from the Brabant dukes’ castle, Tervuren, and the Thurn und Taxis Palace.  Today, however, many are copies.  The entire park underwent a restoration in 2001.

The urns and sculptures below circle the north fountain.

To scroll through larger versions of the above photos (and some others), click on ‘Continue reading’ below and then on any thumbnail in the gallery.

Continue reading “In Brussels Park” →

Korte violetstraat, Brussels

Cindy at enclos*ure1 Comment


On a walk around the neighborhood just south of the Grand-Place (Grote Markt in Dutch) in Brussels, I came across the gate to ‘Little Violet Street.’

Halfway down the pedestrian way, an elephant gable stone marks the site of the 16th century “Old Elephant” tavern. (Click the photos to enlarge them.)

Gable stones are carved and often painted stone tablets set into exterior walls of buildings. Coming into use in the 16th century, they both identified (in the days before house numbers) and decorated homes and businesses. They can be found in many northern European cities, like Brussels, Amsterdam, Maastricht, Lille, and Copenhagen.

According to Wikipedia, “they normally combine a picture with an inscription, or sometimes just a date. Some illustrate the name or profession of the owner, for instance a quill pen as a badge for an author, or a ship for a sailor. Some are named after notable people (The King of Bohemia) or faraway trading destinations (Königsberg). Some stones act as talismans, quoting from holy scripture.”