The Inherent Beauty of the Architecture of Immigrants

Griffintown circa 1896

I am a subversive wanderer. While I walk in Griffintown, one of the oldest communities in Montréal, I seek the continuation of a past consciousness that still haunts this old neighborhood. This consciousness, I see it in the secret language of architecture. I listen to it freely for it speaks to me. I ponder why a neighborhood, which has its roots buried in Irish misery, leads us to believe that there is an inherent beauty in architecture that has witnessed all this destitution. The stoic buildings are far from being oppressive despite their authoritarian character reminding us of the economic times that erected them. I think of my mother when we use to walk in Ottawa's Lowertown as she would cast a tender glance at the older homes that had once echoed with the accent of Franco-Ontarians and Jewish families in early last century. She always whispered : if those walls could only talk. I do not remember if I could detect a sense of regret or resignation in her voice, but are they are not two elements that make up nostalgia?

Irish Immigrant's House circa 1896

Ambling down the narrow sidewalks in Griffintown, I breathe in a sense of nostalgia that is not mine. This culture and this time have nothing to do with me. Yet I attach myself freely to this immigrant song. Its eloquence comes from the silent language of iconic architecture. Montréal has sometimes been criticized for its architecture as if it wanted to remain modest after Expo 67 and the Olympic Games of 76. The new Champlain Bridge woke some citizens from their torpor to debate between pragmatism versus iconic signature. How far can carte blanche be given depends on our tolerance of generic architecture. Basically, shouldn't bold architecture represent our cultural identity?

After much thought, and a little bemused by my rêverie, I concluded that heritage is premium and this is why Griffintown is so important. Its brick buildings and large windows, where people once worked hard for their daily bread, are now ultra chic boho lofts. Minimalistic condos dot the streets of Griffintown, but it is the grand dames in

Boho Chic Bistros of Griffintown

Revitalization of the urban landscape

red brick that have the last word. I think if the inherent heritage of architecture is to be preserved, the transformation is worth that leap of faith. Keeping the shell of a building to transform the interior as per new building codes and environmental considerations is a realistic approach. However, should we allow the same heritage value for all cultures that make up our society? Is there is a larger ethnic rhetoric that wants to keep so-called ancestral architecture iconic? It's while looking at the real estate ads that one questions the very ancestral designation of a property and how it is determined. Does the heritage designation of architecture have more importance because it was built by the founding families? Is immigrant architecture less iconic and less valuable? Griffintown is the living proof regarding this dichotomy and I can live with that answer because its roots are deeper than we think.

 

The history of Griffintown goes back into time in its purest sense. In 1654, the Religious Hospitallers of St. Joseph received this stronghold which they transfered in 1792 to Thomas McCord who sold it to Robert and Mary Griffin. The Lachine Canal was created in 1825 and the population began to build in the area. These were the landed Irish immigrants from Grosse Île who in 1847 erected the Victoria Bridge and the Lachine Canal.

House where murder occurred

I imagine during that era, that Griffintown resembled the infamous Whitechapel district of London during that time when Jack the Ripper haunted dark alleys in search of new prey. The legend of Griffintown resonates the same terror. Mary Gallagher, a local prostitute was brutally murdered by another woman. It is said that Mary comes to haunt William Street. In a jealous rage, Susan Kennedy would have beheaded the poor woman with an axe and dropped her head in a basket because she shared the same customer and the latter seemed to prefer Mary. Urban legend requires us to believe that every seven years, Mary roams William Street in search of her head. For my part, my visit to Griffintown is not to bump into headless Mary, but to unearth some antiques or objets trouvés.

The old brick walls on William Street

So here we are on William Street in search of ARTÉ, L'Artisan du Renouveau et de la Transformation Écologique, a re-use center for eco-centers of the city of Montréal. One of our goals for building our residence is to be green and this involves repurposing and recycling instead of buying everything new. I love to contrast shapes and textures from older eras with the clean lines of our house plans. It's a beautiful dialogue between eras demonstrating a unique synergy not only symbolically but to also convey an important message: that the reuse of materials from the past or discarded on the curbside, is as noble as the use of stone and wood as raw material. The value of these ancient architectural pieces has a particular resonance because we give it a second life. The visit to ARTÉ is the subject of my next post, because what we found deserves its own story.

For what is Griffintown, I will come back often, not to see the new condos, but to walk along the large red brick walls to hear them whisper their immigrant song. This is a past that is part of our heritage because there was more than one people living the same life struggle. The proof: we are all still here.

Saint-Irénée: Where Seduction Defies the Imagination

Saint-Irénée, Charlevoix Québec. Three years ago, I did not even know it existed and now this beautiful village is an intimate part of my life. It was seduction in its purest form where nature and a sense of well being are bound into a timeless complicity. Situated on the north shore of the St. Lawrence River about an hour east of Québec City, along Route 362, this hidden gem is nestled between the towns of Baie-Saint-Paul and La Malbaie. I knew Charlevoix, or at least I thought I did. I had gone several times with my family at the Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu, taking Route 138. To say that the panoramic scenery unfolding along this coastline is breathtaking seems like a trite cliché. There really is no right word to describe the Charlevoix coastline and the emotions it conjures. Not from a mere mortal's point of view anyway. All I can say is that there is a special and unique character to this region that enthralls you into believing that there is definitely a little piece of heaven on earth. It is for these reasons that each year, like migratory birds and marine wildlife, vacationers return to relive the experience that is Charlevoix. Life is good here.

Domaine Forget Gate House

I had never taken the scenic river route until the day we were looking for land to build our ecohouse. We found our dream lot in Les Domaines du Ruisseau-Jureux in Saint-Irénée, on the banks of the river itself where we are now planning our active retirement. This is where we will welcome our children, grandchildren, relatives and friends around a rustic table with good wine and hearty meals from the terroir. As a writer, blogger, painter, musician and a green thumb, I had a long list of precise criteria for my new place of residence. It was the same for my husband whose list was more ambitious than mine. When you live in an area where there is an internationally reknown music and dance centre, a natural heritage site recognized by UNESCO, more art galleries than banks, where one resident in six is a member of the horticulture club, and painters, writers and poets come to dip their brush or their quill in all this inspiration, there is no mistake. This is total nirvana. It would be difficult to find something that surpasses all these attractions, but there is an even more valuable asset: they are the inhabitants themselves. These are a genuine and warm people who are proud of their natural and cultural heritage. The welcome they gave us was heartwarming. They are the best ambassadors of the region for their friendliness, the desire to serve coupled with a disarming sincerity.

Le jardin français

People who live here have a rare opportunity. The St. Lawrence River dominates with its polymorphic blues that fade into the sky and on the other side, the mountains with the same blue infinity seem to unfold into the green valleys covered with wild flowers.  Every season, tourists line up to live a unique experience where time seems to stop. Living in a resort area has its benefits. What people are looking for, we live it here and we are protecting it dearly. From the first glympse of dawn until the last lights dot the coastline, Saint-Irénée opens its arms wide open in its tourist houses, restaurants and the beach. At night, the most beautiful music in the world drifts from Le Domaine Forget, where the maestro's baton weaves its musical magic whether classical or contemporary. Blessed are those who like the French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, amble in solitude in the French garden where sculptures arise from large beds to remind us that the surreal is not so far from reality itself. That art here in this small village is life-size because living in Saint-Irénée, is like living in a painting.

Ginette Snack Bar

Saint-Irénée is the ideal destination for romantic getaways and family holidays. The young and old are lined up at Ginette's snack bar par excellence to satisfy their sweet tooth. Tourists mingle as they wait for their orders. Everything smells good here. Visitors flock to the beach to go horseback riding, watch beluga whales or stare in amazement at the freighters plying silently before them on the silent blue waters. Provisions and sweet treats are available

Père d'Antoine Grocery Store

at le Père d'Antoine convenience store with its miniature ships handcrafted by a pasionate mariner. For a beer from local microbreweries, the Flacatoune offers a varied surf and turf grille. The Bistro Saint-Laurent is one of the most intimate restaurants where the chef comes to greet you at your table and recites the menu of the day.


Le Rustique Guest Hotel

Tourist houses, bed and breakfasts and motels offer affordable and comfortable accommodation.We had the pleasure of staying at the Le Rustique a few times where Diane welcomed us like we were family. The rooms are beautiful, the menu surprisingly world class, but it is the genuine complicity of the guests that adds to the charm of this place. In the morning you hear the blacksmith next door, in his boutique workshop. The quaint white church overlooking the point on the main, used to appear in a famous Québec téléséries Le temps d'une paix. It stands modestly over Saint-Irénée like a lighthouse gently guiding you home. It feels good here. Even daylight seems different which explains the brilliant colours used by artists bringing to life a formidable landscape. 

Saint-Irénée's church

I have visited faraway countries where I marveled to see people stop everything in their daily routine to watch a sunset disappear into the waves of a turquoise ocean or an exotic mountain scape. As you experience this moment, you realize that this community understands the depth of its meaning. It is a state of grace and this is very rare. I envied them and thought that it was unique to their exotic locale. I was mistaken. At Saint-Irénée, it is a phenomenon that is repeated daily. It is not surprising to see hundreds of cars parked on the side of the road along the village. Occupants leave their cars in droves to walk on the beach at low tide. It is a well-established ritual. They stroll towards the blue infinity, where sea and sky merge. Not far, riders down the beach ride their horses with a delectable nonchalance. Children play, molding their imaginary worlds in the soft sand. Others spot beluga whales, hunt for sea glass and fish off the pier for smelt. Older couples sink into beach chairs in sweet idleness, both feet cradled in the sand, breathing deeply the sea air. This is Saint-Irénée and there is nothing like it.

So the next time you make the trip between the Baie-Saint-Paul and La Malbaie, take the 362 and discover a place that not only will pull at your heartstrings, but will seduce your imagination. Saint-Irénée, the most beautiful village in Québec and part of our heritage. Come and experience it yourself. 

The Charlevoix coast line as seen from our place.