
Notre Dame Cathedral and the Rebirth of Artisanship
Check your Instagram feeds or watch YouTube these days and you will likely see inspirational clips of French people getting emotional about the rebuilding of their cathedral, Notre Dame de Paris. Nothing in recent history has united a nation so quickly and cohesively as this effort. If you’re not French, you may be bored of the gushing tributes from firefighters and donors and French citizens, all of whom seem to have had a hand in making “the impossible” happen over the last five years. In a previous piece on this website I was skeptical that they could accomplish what is, in retrospect, one of the most amazing construction projects of this millennium. As one of about 300 historical architects who wrote to President Macron after the fire to insist that he rebuild exactly what was there before the fire, I am absolutely ecstatic about what I am seeing in these videos. I wish I could have attended the reopening on December 7. It blows my mind.
Enjoy the concerts and light shows and videos of people on high scaffolds risking life and limb to make all of this happen. If you look closely, you will notice that many of the people in the videos are under 40 years of age, some even younger. They are proclaiming to the world that their lives changed while working on this epochal project. Let me repeat: Young people who might have been sitting at desks trading stocks or cheating people out of insurance money actually pounded lead, cleaned stained glass, lifted heavy stones, and hand-hewed giant timbers, swearing that it changed their lives. They will never be the same after Notre Dame.
During almost half a century as a historical architect I have worked with, and been inspired by, many wise craftspeople who learned their art through apprenticeship with seasoned masters. I’ve watched stone masons mix mortar and apply it lovingly; blacksmiths heat iron and pound it into intricate curved pieces; wood craftsmen hand cut mortise-and-tenon joints that fit with less than a millimeter of tolerance. Virtually all of them were my age (70s) or older. As they have passed away, I have lamented the loss of embodied knowledge such as theirs. I have worried that our world, facing the threat of climate change, would not have the artisans needed to retrofit historic buildings for new uses during the coming decades. I still worry about these things.

The resurrection of Notre Dame has brought hope and pride to the people of France. The world has watched with admiration and sympathy. But do not fail to notice the universal hope that has radiated from its soaring, vaulted nave and choir. Listen not only to its organ but to the voices of thousands of heroes and heroines who brought it back to life. They told us how, using their minds, bodies, hands, feet, and all their senses, were able to do things that many thought impossible five years ago. They became old-fashioned artisans in a world that replaced hand skills with technology decades ago. Our capitalist technocracy wiped out shoemakers and cobblers, carpenters and blacksmiths, paving the way for high-tech jobs that could be done with a mouse and a keyboard, but were futile in raising a ruined cathedral from the ashes. How did this miracle happen?
Let me explain something that few people outside of France know. The nation’s educators made a critical decision during the early 20th century that made possible the rebirth that we witnessed recently. It also gave a visionary aristocrat, Pierre de Coubertin (1863–1937), a hand in guiding young people toward what John Dewey called “the materials of life” in their formative years. Not only did Coubertin revive the modern Olympics, which visited Paris only months ago; he also revived a medieval guild of master artisans. They are called Les Compagnons du Devoir. English has no word for compagnon. Let me try to translate.
Guides or travel companions go with us—on airline flights, ocean crossings, over mountain passes—as we make life’s journeys. One journey that all of us make is the path to a vocation, what the French call formation. After our basic elementary education, we enter a period of adolescent uncertainty that psychologists consider the key to our sense of self and future ambitions. In the French system there is a pause between lycée and college, at about the 8th grade in the American system. The French celebrate this brief period with an invitation to discover hand skills and embodied knowledge. Pierre de Coubertin had an idea about how to guide them: les compagnons.
A Compagnon du Devoir is a kind of Sir Lancelot of handicraft. His sword is a chisel, mallet, or rolling pin. Compagnons have studied with master artisans during adolescence and young adulthood, learning one of the traditional guild trades, including not only timber framing and stone carving, but also bread baking. Once working as a master in a trade, they are invited to create a masterpiece to demonstrate their surpassing creativity and commitment to their craft. Only upon the completion of this feat are they granted the title of “compagnon.” And the title comes with both accolades and a heavy responsibility: to teach apprentices for the rest of their career, free of tuition, gratis.

If, upon reaching puberty, a young boy or girl commits to a course that will lead them to artisan mastery, they enter the care of Les Compagnons du Devoir, leaving home to live in a maison supervised by a mother, much like entering a convent or monastery. Their lives change at that moment; they resolve to master a traditional job that may lead them to become a compagnon. Most, as might be expected, do not attain that high status; but most also contribute magnificently to the art and fellowship of their trade. They also earn a good living, often surpassing that of their data-punching comrades. These are the people who rose to take up the manifold challenges of restoring Notre Dame after its devastating conflagration.
They were in small companies, often with less than 20 employees, scattered throughout France. Some were in neighboring countries, having completed their training and perhaps becoming entrepreneurs. Recruited quickly by French construction managers and conservation specialists, hundreds of superbly trained artisans marshalled their forces to complete a myriad of small projects that, once gathered together, made the work of rebuilding less daunting. In fact, the chief architect and construction manager said that without that decentralized system, the project would have taken years longer. Though at the opening of the cathedral there were many chefs d’oeuvre who took some credit for the success of the project, it was the corps de ballet who got the most applause. Dressed in their uniforms, the working people, the ones who handled dusty debris and cleaned precious art work over months and months, received the credit they deserved. The nation cheered them as if they were a World Cup–winning soccer squad.
Not all of these artisans had the benefit of the special education provided by Les Compagnons du Devoir. Many, however, were guided by similar European programs that foster training in traditional crafts and building techniques. It’s telling that the U.S. has generally failed to provide these opportunities to young people who may find fulfillment in jobs that require no college degree, only an extended apprenticeship with master artisans. Some cities, like New York and Newark, New Jersey, have high schools for the building arts and trades, but they are rare. There are a few workshops and schools in America: the Timber Framers’ Guild, the American College of Building Arts in Charleston, the North Benet Street School in Boston, and Les Métalliers Champenoise in Paterson, New Jersey. And more are beginning to emerge, but we are far behind the rest of the world in bringing young people into the fold.
The message that the thousands of heroes and heroines of Notre Dame have proclaimed should not be lost after a moment of media adulation for their exploits. They are speaking out as forcefully as demonstrators for Black Lives Matter or the Me-Too Movement. “Give us credit for a job well done” they shout, “but do not waste this opportunity to rebuild a society that has lost its balance. Bring back the honor of ‘manual labor’ and the genius of craftsmanship.” They are not their fathers, grandmothers, or worn-out uncles, lamenting the passing of a golden age, wearing MAGA caps. These are the young firebrands who will rebuild our cities and towns, working in truly meaningful and life-sustaining jobs, if we listen to their hopeful voices over the din of fear and hatred that fills our media platforms today.
Featured image of Notre Dame Cathedral via NPR.