My Surprise Encounter with a French Paparazzo & Photojournalist

Or, Just Because You Have Impostor Syndrome Doesn’t Mean You’re Not a Fake

An often overlooked site when visiting Paris is La Grande Arche de La Défense, located in a stylish business district just beyond the city limits. Starting from the city center, the most efficient route to La Défense involves the doubly-decked RER A train, which covers the 9 km trajectory in under 10 minutes. Such was the path I chose in the spring of 2023 while introducing a handful of friends to my favorite spots in Paris. I’d initially planned a quick stop at the ultramodern plaza rimmed with gleaming skyscrapers by world-famous architects. However, since arriving in Paris, I’d read about an appealing photo exhibit at the top of La Grande Arche, featuring the work of Jean-Gabriel Barthélemy. So, I added the free diversion to our itinerary, never dreaming the day’s events would figure prominently on the trip’s list of highlights.

Transformation of a Paparazzo

People often ask me what they should see when visiting Paris. I usually have some recommendations, but the city offers so much that such guidance greatly depends on the traveler’s tastes and interests. One thing I consistently advise, however, is not a particular museum or monument. Instead, I suggest that shortly before departure, you use Google to discover the hot events and exhibits in the weeks ahead.

Such were my methods in April 2023 and how I came to learn about the photojournalist Jean-Gabriel Barthélemy. Born in 1952, Barthélemey grew up in the heart of Paris. He landed his first photojournalism job at 17, when he started working in the development lab of Reporters Associés. Little by little, he began taking his own pictures, and in 1974, Barthélemy entered the stable of SIPA Presse. This prestigious photojournalism agency provides news images to publications around the world—including the Associated Press, Paris Match, Time Magazine, and Le Monde.

Over the next thirty years, Barthélemy’s eagle eye and persistence yielded iconic photos of some of the world’s most-gandered-at celebrities, such as Liz Taylor, Jackie Onasis, Princess Caroline of Monaco, Prince Charles, Lady Di, and Maria Callas. He also covered numerous newsworthy happenings, such as the Camp David Accords, Queen Elizabeth’s visit to France, the Olympic Games, the Oscars, political campaigns, French prison conditions, insecurity in areas of low-income housing, the fashion runways of Paris, and Michelin award ceremonies.

In 2002, inspired by the large-scale digital compositions of German photographer Andreas Gursky, Barthélemy’s career took a dramatic turn. Linking his love of photojournalism to imagery that was larger scale, less spontaneous, and more illustrative, Barthélemy turned his eye away from the human form and focused instead on man-made environments, particularly those that evoke strong emotion in the heart of the observer. The exhibit underway on the top floor of La Grande Arche featured works from this latter part of Barthélemy’s career.

Some Architectural History

Paris is known for its many architectural treasures, from the flying buttresses of Notre Dame Cathedral to the wrought-iron lattice of the Eiffel Tower. In the 1960s, city planners envisioned adding more skyscrapers throughout the city. The first of these was La Tour Montparnasse, a 210-meter skyscraper that, when completed in 1972, was the tallest building in Europe. It was also perhaps the most reviled. The public outcry resulted in 1977 building regulations that limited new construction to no higher than 80 to 120 ft, depending on the location within Paris.

In 2010, however, building restrictions were again loosened and after 12 years of legal battles, developers finally broke ground on what will be the third tallest building inside the city limits—a 42-story pyramidal glass skyscraper called La Tour Triangle. Once again, Parisians view this latest high-rise as an incongruous eyesore. The towering Toblerone wedge has prompted a recent return to 1977 building codes.

In the 1980s, then French president François Mitterrand initiated an ambitious architectural and cultural program to modernize Paris, known as the Grands Projets. One famous result of this effort is the Louvre’s gleaming Pyramid, designed by I.M. Pei. Mitterand also launched an international design competition to create a monumental structure that would serve as a modern counterpart to the Arc de Triomphe. La Grande Arche opened in 1989 as part of the bicentennial celebration of the French Revolution. Located in the La Défense business district, the marble and glass gateway pays tribute to humanitarian achievements rather than military victories.

Standing on the steps at the base of La Grande Arche, you have a clear view of the Arc de Triomphe 4 km (2.5 miles) away along a vector that continues down the Champs-Élysées, through the Place de La Concorde, bisecting the Tuileries, and bending ever so slightly to converge upon the Louvre Pyramid. In the spring of 2023, we shelled out 15 euros for an elevator ride to the top of the mighty monument to see Barthélemy’s work and take in panoramic views of Paris from its 110-meter rooftop.

Captivating Views

The striking venue for Barthélemy’s expo was open and spacious, with large glass-panelled exterior walls that filled the surrounding space with natural light. Dramatically titled, Secrets de Notre Patrimoine, the exhibit presented works from three unrelated sites: various recesses of Notre-Dame Cathedral of Paris, both before and after the fire that nearly destroyed it; a low-income housing project called La cité des 4000, where few people other than residents dare to tread; and some of the private chambers and passageways of the Palace of Versailles that are closed to the public.

Wandering through the gallery, we found the pictures to be striking, but there wasn’t a lot of information about them. This made for an aesthetically pleasing display of Barthélemy’s work, yet left me somewhat curious about why he’d chosen the specific locations and shots and what might have been the challenges he faced. There were stories behind those photos, but we would never know them.

One by one, we left the exhibit and each found our way out to the great arch’s observation deck. Detractors of the skyscraper’s towering rooftop will say that there are better views of Paris’ famous landmarks from the Eiffel Tower or La Tour Montparnasse, but the 360-degree panorama from La Grande Arche is pretty spectacular.

I’m glad that I took my time outside to appreciate the view, because the observation deck and exhibit space were both closed the following month and remain closed to this day. I can find nothing online portending a reopening at a future date. Ours was one of the last trips to the rooftop, and Barthélemy’s photography show was the last exhibit to be held there.

An Unexpected Invitation

Last of my group to re-enter the building, I was rushed by one of my friends who excitedly whispered, “he’s here! He’s here!” “Who’s here?” I asked, my mind abuzz with the sights of Paris. “The artist,” she replied emphatically. “The guy who took the pictures! He’s over there on the other side of that partition. Go look!”

Now, I don’t consider myself to be a shy person. I’m more than happy to walk into a room full of strangers or meet one-on-one with someone I’ve never spoken to before. But when it comes to famous people, I have no interest in making my presence known to them. In fact, I’d much rather they didn’t see me. I lament their lack of privacy and don’t want to add myself to the neck-craning crowds that impose upon their vie quotidienne. If it were my job to get to know them, that would be a different matter, but it’s not.

So, I hesitated to peek around the hanging wall, to snag even a fleeting glance. Egged on by my friend, however, I felt I should look. Ignoring her discovery would also be rude, and my peering would likely go unnoticed. I advanced and lo and behold, there was the former paparazzo himself, leading a small group from one picture to the next. Silly of me to think I’d be noticed, I thought. Barthélemy was deeply into his narration, his gaze focused on the subject of his discourse.

“You should go over there,” my friend said. “No way!” I replied. “He’s giving a private tour. It would be rude to insert myself.” Always one to relish challenges to protocol, she persisted, “so what! What’s the worst that can happen? You can practice your French!” I was tempted, but there was no way I was going to hang about eavesdropping. Just as I began to turn away, however, a woman from the group beckoned to me. This was one of those comic moments where, in the movies, the neurotic central character looks behind herself to see if the intended invitation is meant for someone else. Thankfully, I did not do that!

She came forward and invited me to join the tour which was being given to friends and family members. I told her that I was thrilled by her offer but didn’t want to impose on their private party. She insisted and so, for perhaps the first and only time in my life, I joined the in-crowd.

To be continued…