Did the elegant Rue La Boétie always hum with such prestige? In 1777, this street, stretching from Rue d’Astorg to the Champs-Élysées, was christened Rue d’Angoulême. It honored the Duke of Angoulême, son of the Comte d’Artois. Rue La Boétie saw a whirlwind of name changes during tumultuous times. It was Rue de l’Union, Rue de la Charte, Rue Lapeyrouse, then Rue d’Angoulême again. It even briefly bore the names Rue de Morny, Rue de la Commune, Rue Mac-Mahon, and Rue Pierre-Charron. Finally, in 1879, it received its current name, honoring Étienne de La Boétie, the writer and dear friend of Michel de Montaigne. Now let’s stroll along Rue La Boétie and uncover its hidden stories. At number 3, the ghost of fashion whispers. Here lived Charles Frederick Worth, the celebrated couturier. Further down, at number 9, imagine the insightful gaze of Henry James. The Anglo-American writer once called this place home. Number 21 housed the art gallery of Georges Wildenstein, later occupied by Paul Rosenberg. And just a few steps away, at number 23, prepare to be awestruck. Between 1918 and 1940, this was Pablo Picasso’s haven, his studio a chaotic jumble of creativity, rented for him by Paul Rosenberg. Rue La Boétie also hosted political intrigue. At number 55, the Union for a Popular Movement, or UMP, held its headquarters from 2002 to 2011. Nearby, number 57, the Wildenstein Institute now resides, though its history is shrouded in whispers of seized artworks. And what secrets did number 58 hold? From 1948 to 2003, it served as the Parisian branch of the CIA. As we reach the end of our walk, consider the legacy of Rue La Boétie. From royalty to revolutionaries, artists to spies, this street has witnessed a vibrant tapestry of human experience, its very stones whispering tales of ambition, creativity, and intrigue.
Église Notre-Dame de l’Air
Beneath what appears to be a simple stone and wood structure lies a history interwoven with faith aviation and community.