Maison Coilliot, Lille

Lille has many buildings of quality, but, despite its proximity to Flanders, it’s not a centre for Art Nouveau. The Maison Coilliot in rue de Fleurus is the only Art Nouveau landmark in the city. It dates from 1898-1900 and is a fascinating example of a style that flared into existence in just a few years before dying out with equal rapidity. Architect Hector Guimard was working on a portfolio of designs for the Métro Parisien at the time he was developing this commission for the proprietor of a ceramic business in Lille. The flamboyantly decorative lettering on the ceramic panel has a close affinity with the station signage he produced for the Métro. Two years earlier work had completed on the Castel Bérenger in Paris – the zenith of Guimard’s obsession with imposing organic decoration on architectural form.

The ground floor was a showroom for Coilliot's ceramics business, above was a 3 storey apartment, stepped back with an angled façade, for Coilliot and his family. Coilliot's factory premises and warehouse were situated behind the rue de Fleurus. The ground floor is composed of typically Art Nouveau organic teardrop forms while the upper storeys are more of a medievalist fantasy with a Gothic timber frame. An optician presently occupies the ground floor. The optician trades as Optique Coillot but the window display pays little respect to the building's design heritage. The inscribed plant-like forms in the rusticated stonework seem in good order but the building as a whole would benefit from some restoration work – cleaning the stonework and treating the timber superstructure would make a difference.

The interior was furnished and decorated by Guimard with the same attention to detail as the exterior – there is no public access but a short film from 1977 takes us briefly behind the scenes after a short verbal exchange between a young female student and a master of condescension.

Castel Béranger

For nearly 20 years the Divisionist painter Paul Signac lived here in a sixth floor studio apartment. It was November 1897 when he moved in and he seems to have been delighted with his new home, describing it to his friends as “ultra-modern”. That reminds us that today’s period piece was once the last word in modernity. The architect, Hector Guimard, created a design vocabulary of such intensity that it persists in the contemporary imagination as a uniquely powerful emblem of fin-de-siècle Europe. This was Guimard’s first major building and challenged all the principles and conventions that defined Haussmann Paris. Homogeneity in appearance and proportion was discarded in favour of a facade divided vertically rather than horizontally, finished in a variety of surface treatments and supplied with windows of different sizes and shapes.


For such an individual building this one is quite easy to miss. It’s on a busy street in the 16ème, partially concealed by trees, opposite La Poste with a large produce market outside. It’s not a building that loudly proclaims its presence and its eccentricities reveal themselves slowly. But once you get your eye in, it’s stuffed with extraordinary details and what you see is a virtuoso performance in the art of imposing organic form on resistant materials.


History records that the developer employing Guimard on this project was a model of compliance, permitting the architect almost complete control over every aspect. Though it may seem that Guimard’s passion was to create an Art Nouveau extravaganza he was equally dedicated to building light, airy and spatially efficient apartments that would be a pleasure to inhabit. It was intended as the affordable housing of its day. Each of the 36 apartments was unique in terms of layout and came supplied with fixtures and fittings designed by Guimard. The shared spaces were furnished with carpets, hand rails, stained glass, wallpapers and decorative ceilings, all from the architect’s drawing board.

Guimard’s professional practice challenged the notion that the natural place for Art Nouveau styling was the luxurious, hand-crafted and extravagant. Flamboyant designs for entrances to the new and rapidly expanding Paris Métro put his work on hundreds of street corners across the city. Two things followed. Firstly these visually lavish structures rapidly became a familiar part of the background to everyday Parisian life and secondly, the individuality and exclusivity of Guimard’s designs added a unique flavour to the image of glamour and refinement that Paris was presenting to the wider world.

Postcard of the Day No. 27, Métro Bastille

It is grimly reassuring to know that it’s not only in Britain that architectural gems are casually and needlessly destroyed. This creature of the bizarre architectural imagination of Hector Guimard was demolished in 1962. If it had clung to existence for another 5 years, it would certainly have survived and would by now be designated a national monument, as has the édicule at Porte Dauphine. This pavilion, constructed in 1899-1900, was one of only two such Métro entrances designed by Guimard and was a grievous loss to the Parisian streetscape. The rehabilitation of Art Nouveau arrived too late to save it from destruction and the botanically inspired iron-work was reduced to the condition of scrap metal. Guimard’s candélabre Métro entrances, known as Entourages, have fared better and at the last count some 154 were still in existence. The name candélabre derives from the elongated stem like forms that support twin red lamps that shed a baleful glow over the descending steps. The Entourage is greatly valued for the exotic flavour that it imparts to the street scene and the survivors are all lovingly maintained in good order.