My Paris Paint Job and a Lesson in Thinking
Let’s face it. The French have a different way of thinking than we Americans do. Americans are more freewheeling with our logic. By that I mean we are more uninhibited in our thought process which, in my opinion, is one of our greatest assets. We make decisions quickly, then move forward onto the next thing.
In contrast, the French are bound by René Descartes, the 17th century philosopher and mathematician. He’s the man who developed the step-by-step reasoning process taught to every young French school kid. It goes something like this. First you start with outlining a principle. Next you build an argument around it and finally you discuss its application. And, if you know the French, they love to talk.
I think, therefore I am
The French fashion themselves as great thinkers. They rationalize everything from critical issues to the most mundane. Through building a rational argument they even convince themselves that their conclusion must be right. When they are wrong—which does happen—there is literally no convincing them otherwise. I know. I tried and failed miserably.
Last September I ventured out to Paris from my New York City cocoon, my first international foray since the pandemic laid us low. Why? Because I needed to finalized documents with a notaire (that’s a real estate lawyer) on the ownership of my Paris apartment after my husband‘s passing. My second reason was to check on my pied à terre which had been repainted in my absence. I live in a mid-19th century Hausmann building. This means moisture buildups, cracks on the walls, and peeling plaster are inevitable.
The dangers of doing work remotely
Earlier this year, my building’s concierge, Mme. Pires, had sent me photos of the damage. There was no question. Repairs were drastically needed. As I could not get to Paris during our Covid-19 confinement, I enlisted Mme. Pires to manage the project. She brought in the painters who provided an excruciatingly detailed estimate. I agreed to the terms and the deadline, then sent in a deposit. The only remaining question was which color to use.
When Ed and I purchased our Marais apartment ten years ago, we decided to do it all in a classically French color, a relatively neutral pale grey. Soothing, chic, and easy-to-live with grey. However, we neglected to keep the name or the number of the paint. My initial choice for the repainting job was to keep the same shade which could be easily reproduced thanks to today’s computer wizardry. This was discussed briefly with Mme. Pires, however, before I could tell her that I had changed my mind and was planning on something different, she had already completed the job!
Since when are the French ever ahead of schedule?
It never occurred to me the French could work so quickly as they are not known for being efficient. That is something we Americans own. So, while the painters were rushing to complete the project several weeks ahead of the agreed-upon schedule, I was leisurely walking around my Manhattan apartment testing out ten 12 X 8-inch foam core “swatches” each painted a different shade of grey. Turns out, grey is a very tricky color as it can have undertones of either blue or green which can be problematic under certain light exposures.
Doing the groundwork
To avoid painter’s remorse, I had read several how-to articles on selecting the right shade of a color. I knew you needed to test the color in different parts of the room which was being painted. Either you could use the paint swatch method or paint a small section on different walls in the room. Experts also tell you to pay attention to the time of day you look at it as color changes with light. It makes a difference, too, if it’s a cloudy day or a sunny day. Furthermore, natural versus artificial light will affect how the color appears. Finally, in order to make sure you love the color, paint specialists recommend living with it for several days. Only then should you decide if your choice is the correct one for the space.
Eventually, I narrowed my choice down to three possible tones of light grey which I thought would be ideal for repainting the Paris apartment. I was about to email my concierge with the number of the color when I learned it was too late. She and the painters had already decided to recreate the original paint color. While I was taken aback, the fault was clearly mine for not being timelier in communicating what I wanted. But I rationalized that I had loved the original shade of grey, so what could be bad?
Assessing the damage
When I arrived back in Paris this fall Mme. Pires met me in the courtyard. She eagerly helped carry my luggage upstairs into the apartment, obviously anxious to gage my reaction to both the new paint job and her management skills. Bedroom: Perfect. Hallway entrance: Perfect. Living room/dining room: Mon dieu! What happened here?
As I walked into the salon, I noticed that the wall facing me with three, tall French windows had been painted grey like the rest of the apartment. However, the room’s remaining walls were pale green with a grey hint, or as they call it in French verdigris or grey green in English. Gasping, I tried to contain my shock. When I recovered—not easy for someone suffering from jet lag—I asked in French, “Why the two different colors?” Madame responded, “But we did exactly what you did originally.”
A battle of the minds
Huh? I remember distinctly using only one beautiful shade of grey which would show up as pale violet in the morning sunlight then gradually morph into a rich, warm grey tone during the rest of the day. At night it turned into a gorgeous dove grey under our somewhat sparse lighting. I loved how it made that visual transformation as it added drama to the room.
Mme. Pires stared me down waiting for a response. Again, I mildly protested saying that only one single shade of grey had been used the first time. But Mme. Pires was not having any of it. She and the painters were convinced, using their Cartesian thinking process, that I had specifically, meaning consciously, decided to maintain “visual integrity.” Say what?
Rule # 1: Visual integrity
Explaining the principle behind their collaborative argument, Mme. Pires patiently expounded yet again, however, this time with an authoritative tone in her voice. “We all agreed that, while slightly unusual, you had wanted to keep the wall facing you when entering the salon the same color of grey as the entrance hallway.” She continued that it was their firm conclusion that, “You must have wanted to keep the visual integrity of the space so as not to shock the eye. Then you elected to paint the remaining walls a pale shade of verdigris.“
I protested but Mme. Pires held steadfast to her explanation. To her, it made perfect sense even though her assumption was inaccurate. She looked at me with a touch of pity. Bet she was thinking, “Poor dear, doesn’t remember.” I could see some level of compromise was needed. I proffered that perhaps the confusion of color choice occurred because none of us had taken into consideration how paint oxidizes over time. What I didn’t say, but personally concluded, was that in their rush the painters had probably also failed to check out how the shade of grey evolved over a period of time.
What to do?
So, I was left with the dilemma of either repainting the room all grey or all grey green. Thankfully, my Anglo-Saxon pragmatism kicked in. I convinced myself to live with the paint job for the week I was in Paris and then decide what to do.
After I regained my composure and was alone, I pulled from my suitcase the three foam core samples with different shades of grey, the ones which had made the final cut back home. I was curious to see if my selection was better than what the painters had used. To my surprise, none of the three would have worked.
Mistakes to avoid the next time
Could it be that Parisian light is different from than in Manhattan? Possibly. What was certain, however, is that before I repaint the apartment the next time, I plan to do my DIY paint swatch exercise sur place in France and not simulate it back in the States.
And, if you’re wondering how the situation was resolved, by the time I left Paris I had grown quite fond of the verdigris color. To my amazement, I had also come to appreciate the dramatic effect of having a two-toned salon. Perhaps rationalizing like a French person had certain advantages after all. One thing for sure, neither a Cartesian-thinking Frenchman nor a pragmatic American could argue with the monies saved by not having to repaint.