Museum – David Enzel

Maison Européenne de la Photographie: A Home for Photography

September 20, 2025September 18, 2025

In the heart of the Marais in Paris lies the Maison Européenne de la Photographie (MEP). It isn’t a grand, imposing museum like the Louvre or the Musée d’Orsay. Instead, it feels intimate, almost hidden — a place where you can stand quietly before a single photograph, letting it work on you without distraction.

Encountering Marie-Laure de Decker

The exhibition that stopped me in my tracks was devoted to Marie-Laure de Decker. Before this visit, I knew nothing about her. Yet her black-and-white images held me still: the grain of film, the intensity of her subjects’ eyes, the strange balance of fragility and strength.

Her story is as remarkable as her photographs. De Decker began as a striking fashion model in Paris. She saved enough money to buy her first Leica and soon turned the camera on the world’s conflicts. Her photographs from Vietnam and Chad carry a rare humanity — not just war and suffering, but dignity, presence, and survival.

Two of her cameras, a well-worn Leica M3 and M4, are on display at the MEP. Ordinary tools, scratched and aged, yet heavy with history and courage.

More Than a Museum

The MEP is not just a gallery of images. It feels like a home for photography itself, where established masters share the stage with emerging voices. Its bookstore is a temptation all its own — shelves lined with rare catalogues, monographs, and books that open like personal invitations into other lives.

And when you step back outside, you’re in the Marais: narrow old streets, bustling cafés, a Paris scaled to human rhythm.

Marie-Laure de Decker – on display at the MEP

What Matters

Standing in front of de Decker’s work, I felt something I sometimes forget: the latest gear matters very little. What endures is the eye, the courage to see, and the willingness to be present.

The MEP reminded me why I fell in love with photography in the first place. It is not only about images. It is about memory, refuge, and meeting the world through another’s gaze.

If You Go

If Paris is in your plans, make time for the Maison Européenne de la Photographie. You may arrive expecting to see photographs. But if you linger, you might leave changed — carrying the weight of another person’s vision, and perhaps, a little more courage to see the world for yourself.

A Parisian Museum, a Family’s Tragedy, and the Lessons of History

August 14, 2025August 13, 2025

The Musée Nissim de Camondo is a historic house museum of French decorative arts, located in the Hôtel Camondo at 63 rue de Monceau, on the edge of Parc Monceau in Paris’s 8th arrondissement.

The home was built in 1911 by Ottoman-born Jewish banker and art collector Count Moïse de Camondo, inspired by the Petit Trianon at Versailles. It was designed to house his remarkable collection of decorative arts and fine furniture.

Tragedy shaped its fate. In 1917, the Count’s only son, Nissim, was killed in World War I. Shattered by the loss, the Count withdrew from society and dedicated himself entirely to perfecting his collection. When he died in 1935, he left the house and all it contained to the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, stipulating that it become a museum in Nissim’s memory.

Just nine years later, the Count’s last surviving heir, his daughter Béatrice, was deported to Auschwitz along with her family during the Nazi occupation of France. None survived. The Camondo family line ended, leaving the house as its sole surviving legacy.

The Museum of the Second World War in Gdańsk: Architecture, Memory, and Politics

August 16, 2025August 10, 2025

During my recent visit to Gdańsk, I stopped at the Museum of the Second World War. Even before stepping inside, the building grabbed my attention. It was designed by Studio Architektoniczne Kwadrat, the winners of an international competition in 2010 for the museum’s architecture.

The structure is bold and unsettling—its sharply angled form slices upward from the earth like a wound. The massively leaning tower seems to rise from underground, symbolizing the rupture of war and the tension between past and present. In many ways, the outer architecture spoke louder to me than the exhibits inside.

This was my first visit, and I came genuinely curious: how does Poland tell the story of World War II?

The answer turned out to be complicated. The museum presents a deeply Polish view of the war—understandably so, given Poland was invaded and brutalized by both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. The exhibition highlights this trauma and the bravery of the Polish people. But as a resource on broader wartime history or its moral complexities, I found it less impressive.

In particular, I noticed what wasn’t there. Polish antisemitism before, during, and after the war is barely addressed. The role of Polish collaborators or bystanders in the persecution of Jews is downplayed or ignored. Instead, the narrative leans heavily into Polish heroism and victimhood, avoiding harder truths that also belong to the historical record. I don’t raise this to diminish Polish suffering—but because good history demands honesty, even when it’s uncomfortable.

This criticism isn’t mine alone. When the museum opened in 2017, it was widely praised for its inclusive, civilian-focused narrative. Historian Timothy Snyder called it “perhaps the most ambitious museum devoted to the second world war in any country”. But soon after, the Law and Justice Party (PiS)-led government began reshaping its direction. Minister Piotr Gliński dismissed founding director Paweł Machcewicz, and a group of 500 historians and academics signed an open letter condemning the changes as “unacceptable, even barbaric interference,” accusing the government of turning the site into a “propaganda institution.” These developments are also explored in a blog post by Cameron Hewitt for Rick Steves Europe: Poland’s New World War II Museum — Who Gets to Tell the Story?

By contrast, the POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews in Warsaw offers a more introspective experience. POLIN confronts Polish complicity, antisemitism, and the full arc of Jewish life in Poland—including the violent aftermath of WWII. It trusts visitors with complexity and nuance; here, questions aren’t only raised—they’re interrogated.

I left the Gdańsk museum feeling I understood more about how Poland sees World War II—and less about the war itself. In that sense, the museum is valuable—but not as a comprehensive or balanced historical resource. It’s a window into national memory, shaped by architecture, politics, and selective storytelling.

If you’re visiting Gdańsk, I still recommend walking around the museum. The building alone is worth the stop. But if you’re seeking a fuller understanding of WWII and its legacy in Poland, there are richer, more honest places to begin—like POLIN in Warsaw or the memorials at Auschwitz-Birkenau.

The Museum of the Second World War is a striking architectural shell—but what it chooses not to say may be its most telling feature.

Polin Museum: A Monument to Life and Memory

August 16, 2025August 10, 2025

The POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews in Warsaw is both a monument to a lost civilization and a cultural institution of the highest caliber. Housed in a striking contemporary building on the site of the former Warsaw Ghetto, the museum traces 1,000 years of Jewish life in Polish lands—from early migrations and the Golden Age through the partitions, the Holocaust, and into the present day.

Facing the Monument to the Ghetto Heroes, the POLIN Museum stands on the site of the prewar Jewish neighborhood and wartime ghetto. Together, the museum and monument form a powerful memorial complex. One visits the monument to honor those who died by remembering how they died. One enters the museum to honor them—and those who came before and after—by remembering how they lived.

One of the museum’s most impressive features is the reconstruction of the wooden synagogue from Gwoździec. This soaring, hand-painted structure, recreated using traditional methods, pays tribute not only to Jewish religious architecture but also to the vibrancy and beauty of a world that once was.

The museum handles Poland’s long Jewish history with beauty, care, and deep respect. Yet I found myself wondering: how deeply does POLIN grapple with the antisemitism that existed in Poland before the German invasion? The subject is present—in interwar exhibits, newspaper clippings, and political histories—but easy to miss, especially amid the museum’s emphasis on Jewish life rather than victimhood. Perhaps this is deliberate. The goal, after all, is education, not alienation. Still, it’s hard to tell the full story of Jewish life in Poland without acknowledging how often Jews were made to feel like outsiders—even before the Holocaust began.

Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, the museum’s chief curator, once said: “We are creating a museum of life, not a museum of death.” That vision is palpable throughout POLIN’s galleries. The museum honors what was lost while insisting that Jewish history in Poland must also be remembered for what it was: rich, complex, and deeply woven into the national fabric.

So what is the purpose of POLIN today? A Polish guide I met during my travels said the museum is primarily intended for Poles, almost all of whom are not Jewish. There’s truth in that. In a country where 90% of the prewar Jewish population was murdered and few Jews remain, the museum serves not only as remembrance but also as education. It is also, arguably, part of Poland’s broader effort to grapple with its past while promoting cultural tourism. Jewish heritage sites have become cultural and economic assets—a reality that raises uneasy questions about purpose and presentation.

Still, none of that should diminish what POLIN has accomplished. It does not shy away from difficult chapters. It honors what was lost while celebrating what was lived. And for Jewish and non-Jewish visitors alike, it offers a place to learn, reflect, and—perhaps most importantly—feel the weight of presence where so much absence remains.

The Bourse de Commerce – Pinault Collection in Paris

August 16, 2025May 21, 2024

The Bourse de Commerce in Paris began as a circular wheat exchange built between 1763 and 1767. Its open-air court was capped with a wooden dome, later replaced in 1811 by a copper dome supported by an iron framework—an early example of modern engineering. A major reconstruction in 1888–89 preserved the layout but added glass and a mounted canvas to the dome, giving the building much of its present form.

The $170 million redevelopment was led by Pritzker Prize–winning Japanese architect Tadao Ando, who had previously collaborated with Pinault in Venice at the Palazzo Grassi. Ando inserted a striking 108-foot-diameter concrete cylinder into the rotunda, creating a central exhibition space while preserving the original dome and framework.

Since 2021, the Bourse de Commerce has been the Paris home of the Pinault Collection, offering exhibitions and events that reflect Pinault’s fifty years as a collector and patron of the arts. The immense dome—listed as a historic monument—is breathtaking in itself, and the contemporary art on display is modern, challenging, and original.

Sources: Wikipedia | Pinault Collection | The New York Times | Le Monde

La Galerie Dior: Fashion as Art in Paris

August 16, 2025May 18, 2024

La Galerie Dior opened in spring 2022, celebrating the legacy of Christian Dior (1905–1957) and his six successors. Designed by American architect Peter Marino (b. 1949), the gallery sits beside Dior’s flagship at 30 Avenue Montaigne.

Spread across thirteen thematic spaces, the collection includes 130 haute couture outfits, 33 toiles, and 150–200 accessories. The gallery is open daily from 11 am to 7 pm (closed Tuesdays). Admission: €12.

Visitors ascend by elevator to the third floor and descend through a spectacular spiral staircase. Even for those who aren’t devotees of haute couture, the exhibitions are breathtaking.

Next door at 30 Avenue Montaigne is Dior’s largest boutique—arguably the most beautiful store I’ve ever visited. It features a restaurant and a pastry café in a soaring atrium filled with tropical trees and fresh flowers. Worth a stop even if you don’t plan on buying anything.

Sources: A Visit to La Galerie Dior | WWD | Peter Marino Architect

Musée Jacquemart-André

August 18, 2025December 30, 2023

The Musée Jacquemart-André is a private museum located at 158 Boulevard Haussmann in the 8th arrondissement of Paris. The museum was created from the private home of Édouard André (1833–1894) and Nélie Jacquemart (1841–1912) to display the art they collected during their lives.

Édouard André, the scion of a Protestant banking family, devoted his considerable fortune to buying works of art. He then exhibited them in his new mansion built in 1869 by the architect Henri Parent, and completed in 1875.

André married a well-known society painter, Nélie Jacquemart, who had painted his portrait ten years earlier. The couple travelled in Italy, amassing one of the finest collections of Italian art in France. When Edouard André died, Nélie Jacquemart completed the decoration of the Italian Museum and travelled in the Orient to add more precious works to the collection. Faithful to the plan agreed with her husband, she bequeathed the mansion and its collections to the Institut de France as a museum, and it opened to the public in 1913.

Source: Wikipedia