The Gargoyles of Notre Dame Through a Modern Lens

The famous "thinker" gargoyle that sits high atop Notre Dame in Paris is the carving that inspired Dorian, the gargoyle character in The Accidental Alchemist. Even though I've climbed the 387 steps to the gallery of gargoyles many times, whenever I visit Paris I can't resist doing it once more.

Each time I visit Viollet-le-Duc's gargoyles up close, I try to capture their spirit in a different way. In addition to using regular print and digital cameras, I've take photos of these gargoyles with my lensbaby selective focus lens and with a Holga plastic camera. And the last time I visited, I used my cell phone. I never imagined those cellphone pictures would be some of my favorite images, but that's what happened. That day, a storm was approaching, and one of the Instagram filters perfectly rendered the ominous feeling of the storm clouds.

 

Real Life Instagram: Holga Plastic Camera Photos of Paris

Cleaning out my home office the other day, I came across an undeveloped roll of 120 film from my Holga plastic camera. I took it to be developed, and was happily surprised to see the roll had a few pictures I'd taken during a trip to Paris over two years ago.

Looking at the contact sheet of these photos, I started thinking that two years ago was also the year Instagram got started. The cool vintage photo filters Instagram applies to your digital photos are a big reason why the photo-sharing site has such appeal. The filters are meant to mimic the imperfections of old analog cameras such as my Holga. I'm not an Instagram user, but I do love the look of many of the photos. Are my plastic camera photos really do different from a photo taken on a cell phone with an Instagram filter applied?

On that 2010 trip to Paris, I took pictures with a digital camera as well, which is why I never remembered to get this old roll of film developed. I haven't taken my Holga with me on a trip since, and I wonder if I will again. I love the camera, but it's another thing to carry, and I can create the same effects in Photoshop when I get home. Yet there's something different about plastic cameras that draws me back to them—I think it's the fact that I don't have total control the way I do with Photoshop. The light and the color captures a moment I experienced as it was really happening, with light seeping into the plastic box through the duct tape...All right, if I don't stop rambling about this I'll turn into my college age self in a Hal Hartley film. So here are those Holga camera photos of Paris!

—Gigi

Infrared Gargoyles

I've been doing some further infrared effects experimentation. I thought I'd show a couple before-and-after photos. I like the originals, too, but there's something about the cooling colors of infrared light that bring stone gargoyles to life.

 

—Gigi

Less Famous Gargoyles of Notre Dame

Continuing with mysterious views of Paris, here are some of the lesser known gargoyles of Notre Dame. (You can see some of the more famous carvings here and here.)

The gargoyles below can all be seen from the same bell tower level as the famous ones, nearly 400 steps up a worn stone spiral staircase.

--Gigi

The Gargoyles Remain the Same. My View Has Changed.

Before moving on, one last look at a few of the gargoyles of Notre Dame.

Contrasting last week's photos, below are a few of my more recent photographs of the iconic stone figures on Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.

These three photos were taken using a lensbaby lens, which is basically a bending plastic tube that you physically push and pull to focus on one tiny "sweet spot" in your field of view. Frustrating, yes. But a lot of fun, too.

I love the possibilities of this lens, but I also miss black and white film. Yes, there's always Photoshop to convert color photos into black and white. Something of the mystery of photography is gone when you can snap hundreds of photos without thinking about it, though. With digital, we often miss out on savoring the few special images we captured on film during a trip.

Whenever I have room in my bag -- which isn't as often as I'd like -- I take my Holga plastic camera with me. It shoots 120 film and takes square pictures. Again, you can always crop a photo in Photoshop, but it's rather magical to frame a photo just as you want it and then see how the light falls in the print you end up with. Maybe I'll find some of my Holga photos to scan for my next post.

-- Gigi

The Gargoyles of Notre Dame

The gargoyles that first inspired my imagination are the gargoyles of Notre Dame in Paris. Although the cathedral was constructed in the 1200s, the gargoyles weren't added until the 1800s -- a romantic addition to the Gothic cathedral.

I first visited them when I was a kid in the 1980s, dragged along to France by my anthropologist mother. I was fussy because I hated the food in France (oh, what a silly child I was...). But as a fan of Scooby Doo and Encyclopedia Brown mysteries, I was enamored with the mysterious stone creatures at Notre Dame.

The photos I took with a pink plastic 110 film camera will remain in a shoe box in my parents' house and never see the light of day. When I went back and visited Paris on my own, though, I discovered the mystery in these stone carvings all over again. Below are a few of the first decent photos I took of the gargoyles of Notre Dame in the 1990s.

They look out over the city, watching. 

 

Each one is a completely unique creature with its own personality.

The photos above were shot with black and white 35mm film. When I first moved to San Francisco, I spent hours in the community darkroom of the Harvey Milk Photo Center developing prints of photos like these.

I've since switched to a digital camera, and have accumulated more lenses than I could afford as a teenager. But these early photos remain some of my favorites.

--Gigi

What is a Gargoyle Anyway?

Technically, a gargoyle is a stone grotesque on the side of a building with a very specific feature: a waterspout for its mouth. It's from the French 'gargouille,' meaning throat, which is also how we get the word 'gargle'.

The purpose of the gargoyle, in architectural terms, is to carry rainwater away from the building via a more artistic form than a drain pipe. Like this fellow below, at Westminister Abbey in London (with the saint looking out from behind).

But that architectural understanding leaves us with a pretty narrow definition. In common usage, the word gargoyle more broadly describes any ornamental grotesque carved in stone. That's the way I use the term gargoyle.

One of the most iconic gargoyles isn't technically a gargoyle. Le Penseur ("The Thinker") is one of many non-waterspout gargoyles that sits high atop Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.

Gargoyles now adorn many types of buildings, but as the examples above show, churches are important in their history. There are different interpretations about their original meaning, though.

One understanding is that gargoyles represented demons and were meant to frighten people into attending church, which was a sanctuary from the demonic forces outside. Another interpretation is that the gargoyles themselves warded off evil.

Since countless artists and patrons were essential in creating unique carvings before the era of mass-produced statues, it's likely a combination of factors across time and locations. I'm in awe of the visions of the people involved and their stone creations that have endured over the centuries.