There must be thousands of churches and other institutions devoted to Mary, known to Christians as mother of Jesus. Paris alone has more than 20 churches called Notre-Dame. And yet, throughout the world, say you've been to Notre-Dame, and everyone will assume you've been to the cathedral of Paris (unless they think you went to the university in South Bend.)
It may be the world's best-known church—and yet, inside and out, it is so diverse, and has changed so much, both over 850 years and over the past few years, it is hard to think of really "knowing" it. It has always seemed to me to be "all of a piece," and yet different architects and builders have altered it repeatedly.
We visited it this August for the first time in perhaps 10 years. We never visit Paris without being near it, even entering for a brief visit, but it's been that long since we planned to spend time walking the interior, looking at detail as well as "big picture," and reading some of the many plaques and texts of explanation.
The impression I carried away was different from many others I've visited. Its sense of constant activity—not just that of us visitors, of whom there were many—is impressive. Its incredible variety of colors, shapes and styles is amazing.
It may or may not have the most beautiful windows, but there are so many that are beautiful (some with open panels for a little air!) It may not have the best of any one thing, in fact, but I believe it certainly has the best overall effect. You cannot look in any direction without being caught by something.
The construction of Notre Dame started in 1162, but, in the usual way, its site had previously been used by other churches, and before that a Roman temple, and before that sacred sites of other sorts. It's one of the first Gothic cathedrals, and it may be where flying buttresses—those outside arches that lean against the building—were first used when cracks began developing as the walls grew higher.
Later, another architect used the spaces between the buttresses to create the side chapels endowed and used by different noble families. Still later, another builder raised the roof on the nave, leaving it higher than the roof of the apse and choir. During the Revolution after 1789, a great deal of the cathedral's old artworks were destroyed, and new art and windows were created under Napoleon.
And those are only some of the older and bigger changes. Century after century, kings and bishops changed facades, opened walls, closed off areas and generally reinvented the project. The first big modern renovation started in 1845 under architect Eugene Viollet-le-duc. As is usual with such projects, some hated his changes and some supported them. But they have become so much a part of what we know as Notre Dame that only an architectural historian can identify them. Of course, that may not apply to some of the newest, most abstract windows...
Another big round of renovation has been going on since 1991, but it is mostly limited to decluttering the interior of recent additions, and a full cleaning of the exterior. Coming back to Notre Dame this year and finding the main west facade gleaming white was startling, as was the clarity of some of the restored statuary. The incredible collection of statuary in the facade isn't just decoration: At the time the cathedral was first built, they served as a religious text for a largely illiterate population.
We stopped by around noon on a weekday and found a line that stretched all the way across the massive plaza in front of the church...but it moved fairly quickly.
Since Notre Dame is not only an active cathedral, but a historic museum, it also takes the time to explain itself and its history; a series of panels along one side of the nave describes and illustrates the history in several languages, and a series of models shows the building in various stages of construction.
The historic aspect shares the space well with the religious (although it is ironic that signs need to be posted designating areas that really ARE only for prayer.) Many visitors light candles, and an active rota of priests take confessions.
The plaza, by the way, houses another important attraction. It is where a neighborhood of houses, shops and more once crowded up against the cathedral, beginning in pre-Roman times. Cleared out in the 18th and 19th centuries, the layers of ancient history came to light again during construction in the 1970s; since 1980 it has been open (for a fee) with a walkway and information showing Roman and medieval remains. Below, the cellar of a medieval house.
Again...the thing about Notre Dame is not any one aspect of its beauty, or importance: It is the richness and variety and vitality that make it attractive. And, I confess, make it impossible for me to be as selective as I should with photographs. The narrative ends here, but the pictures continue.
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