The Beauty of Notre Dame Cathedral

I remember well my earlier visits to Notre Dame Cathedral and how awestruck I was by the sheer magnitude of the building and the exquisite architecture on the outside. I never stepped foot into the cathedral either time - the first being when I was 16 and really had no interest and the second at about age 49 when I had no time. This trip was quite different since I was to be in Paris for 10 days and, having watched live on TV as the cathedral was afire and followed the news of the reconstruction efforts, had planned to finally go into the cathedral. I think a real motivation was seeing Gustavo Duhamel conduct the Paris Orchestra on the reopening of the cathedral, hearing the acoustics of the organ, and getting a glimpse of the magnificent restoration.

Those who know me appreciate that I am not a fan of organized religion. I see organized religion as one of the banes of human existence that has been, and continues to be, the impetus for genocides, wars, discrimination, subjugation/domination of populations, and, in some cases, predatory behaviours. To be clear, I strongly believe in faith, the power of community, belief, hope, spirituality, and importance for some…structure. I also honour how religion has shaped cultures, societies, and history. But I am sometimes challenged in understanding how groups can spend incredible amounts of money (including tax dollars) and resources to build extravagant monuments and maintain them (or replace them) rather than addressing issues of poverty, homelessness, and starvation. I do get the idea of symbolism and the importance of that to culture and identity but I always wonder where the priorities are when deciding between material things and necessities of life. It is also fascinating to me when a secular country, like France, that has deliberately separated church and state puts such funds and energy into a church like the Notre Dame Cathedral - a mystifying paradox. 

Admission to the cathedral is free but visitors are encouraged to book a spot online in advance to guarantee a time. The trick to accomplish this, given that spots only open about 48 hours in advance, is to hover online for the window to open…as I discovered, it is not so much a window as a fleeting wormhole that disappears in nanoseconds. Plan B is to show up and get in a queue - a couple days we passed by the lineup was incredible with hundreds of people herded into a narrow switchback corral. However, if one is up early and at the cathedral when it opens (8:00 a.m.), there is no wait but one still needs to go through the entire length of the corral even when it is empty. Great way to clock steps!  

I have been in many cathedrals and mosques during my travels across Europe, in Latin and South America, and in Canada. I would say that my top picks to date are the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona and the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. Each are monumentally huge but have their own unique architecture, exquisite stained glass features that play with the natural lighting, and combinations of tiles, mosaics, sculptures, and/or ornamental features that leaves a person in wonderment. All three of these structures certainly appealed to my visual sense but also to my auditory perception - for all the people and space, there is surprisingly little sound. In large part, I suspect, the sacredness of the environment influences people to silence or, at best, very hushed whispers. As well, many people are so awestruck they are busy soaking in the sights and have little to say. And then there is the desire (fear?) not to draw attention since the slightest raised voice or clatter can be magnified and reverberate throughout the building. From the moment stepping into Notre Dame, it was evident that this cathedral shared the same qualities as my other favourites in size, opulence, and beauty. 

The first thing that struck me was the height combined with the clear visual sight line from the entrance to the end of the apse. This was achieved through an architectural feature, the exterior flying buttresses, that apply pressure inwards to support the vertical columns inside the cathedral. This also gives Notre Dame one of its distinctive, Gothic looks on the outside - a rib cage on the outside of the body. Augmenting the height was the gleaming white interior with the restoration after the fire; apparently, prior to the restoration work, centuries of grime from candle soot and pollution had darkened the stone and features. Now, with refurbished masonry and updated electrical illumination, the appearance is quite stunning and permits the more subtle artistic features shine through…statues, painted columns, the private chapels, and the tomb effigies. And, of course, the multitude of colourful stained glass throughout the cathedral added to the reverent ambiance. The east-facing rose window (there is a rose window in each direction) was welcoming the morning sun giving the early visitors a visual feast - truly breathtaking!

The design of most cathedrals is imbued with layers of symbolism and features meant to showcase the power of the church whilst also facilitating the rituals of religious practice. For instance, all three of these criteria are wrapped together in just the sheer size and height of Notre Dame Cathedral - an homage to (their) God where the masses come as one to worship (commune) in a huge building of magnificence (and expense) portraying the omnipotence of the Catholic Church originally at the centre of medieval Paris society. Along the outside naves are the stations of the cross in a clockwise pattern, the confessionals, the small sanctuaries and chapels with candles to light, and religious statues commemorating the sacred family, various saints, and Biblical stories. Parts of the naves are fitted with pews and seating, then the center nave has the choir and alter for services. 

Our self-guided tour followed the stations of the cross more out of practicality than anything else - the volume of people, especially with huge tour groups, meant clockwise was the path of least resistance. The progression was orderly but had a bit of a spiritual dimension, too, as the sequence and pace allowed for pauses to digest the different scenes, appreciate of the art, and quietly reflect. Similar to my experience at the Sagrada Familia, I found myself experiencing an inexplicable spiritual sense while taking in everything; mostly deep thoughts on life with a bit of reminiscence and questioning. In a way, it seemed quite therapeutic being completely unplugged in such a historical and awesome space. 

At the end of our migration we took time to sit in the center of the main nave just to rest and further reflect. It happened to be near one of the few places where a section of the stone ceiling vault had caved in when the wooden roof and spire collapsed; most people are left with the impression that the whole ceiling had collapsed but, in fact, there was little damage to the main structure. This was remarkable and very fortunate, resulting mainly in smoke and water damage thus saving pretty much all the artifacts. Gazing up to the rose windows and soaking in some last moments of this magnificent structure I came to a sense of peace in trying to reconcile cost and extravagance with what this cathedral also represents - art, culture, human capacity for building, and France's national heritage.