L'immeuble Molitor is an 8-storey, 15-unit (copropriété) apartment building in the wealthy Paris suburb of Boulogne-Billancourt. It was designed by Le Corbusier and his cousin Pierre Jeanneret, and was constructed between 1931 and 1934. Today, it is one of 16 projects designed by Le Corbusier that are designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. And so if you've at all studied architecture of the 20th century, you know this project. It's canonical. It's also where Le Corbusier and his wife Yvonne Gallis lived for most of their lives until their deaths in 1965 and 1957, respectively. But what they don't teach you in architecture school — and I think it's a shame they don't — is how the project was developed.
L'immeuble Molitor is an 8-storey, 15-unit (copropriété) apartment building in the wealthy Paris suburb of Boulogne-Billancourt. It was designed by Le Corbusier and his cousin Pierre Jeanneret, and was constructed between 1931 and 1934. Today, it is one of 16 projects designed by Le Corbusier that are designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. And so if you've at all studied architecture of the 20th century, you know this project. It's canonical. It's also where Le Corbusier and his wife Yvonne Gallis lived for most of their lives until their deaths in 1965 and 1957, respectively. But what they don't teach you in architecture school — and I think it's a shame they don't — is how the project was developed.
The building was developed by la Société Immobilière de Paris Parc des Princes and two promoters (developers) named Marc Kouznetzoff and Guy Noble. They acquired the site right on the border of Paris and Boulogne in 1931 and then asked Le Corbusier and Pierre to design it. But they struggled to obtain the necessary financing and eventually asked the two architects to work their social circles for people who might want to pre-buy apartments in the building. They also wanted to show that avant-garde architecture, of which this firmly was at the time, could be more attractive than traditional architecture.
To that end, here's a marketing poster from that period (which I think is super interesting):
Like the emailers you'd see today, it shows a rendering of the building (with fancy rich-looking people out front), it touts the project's unique location and views, it mentions the architects (by the 1930s, Le Corbusier would have already been an internationally recognized figure), and it promises that the payment structure will be easy. So all in all, not much has changed over the last century when it comes to marketing new apartments: "Move-in today with only 5% down. Don't miss this unique location in the heart of X, with incredible views of Y."
Construction on the project started in February 1932, but it was slow-moving due to financing constraints and a lack of apartment pre-sales. The project was eventually finished in 1934, but then in 1935 the developer went bankrupt. This precipitated a lengthy legal battle in which the ownership of Le Corbusier's own apartment was even called into question. The dispute was not settled until 1949. During this time, the building not surprisingly fell into disrepair, and it would not be until 1950 that a proper renovation would be undertaken. Once again, this is not the story that is typically taught in architecture schools.
Having visited the building this week during Paris Design Week, I can tell you that the common areas feel tired. There's paint peeling in the lobby and the exit stair — which you're required to take to visit Le Corbusier's penthouse apartment — isn't in the best condition. There are tiles missing on the stairs, and the inner courtyard feels a tad grim. At the same time, there are some very nicely appointed apartments in the building that sell/list for over €14,000 per m2. That feels pretty good to me. And so I guess all is well that ends well in the world of architecture and development.
It would be easy to assume that Paris might be a city trapped in its architectural past. Its global brand is most often associated with the work of Haussmann from the 19th century. The city itself is almost entirely devoid of modern skyscrapers. And heritage preservation rules are, from what I gather, strict. But look behind and beyond Haussmann's facades, and you'll find a city that is progressive and experimental.
Take, for example, the Bourse de Commerce. Originally constructed in the 18th century as a hall to both store and sell wheat, a recent renovation by Japanese architect Tadao Ando dropped an exposed concrete cylinder right in the middle of it. It is now a contemporary art museum and, in my opinion, one of the most architecturally interesting buildings in the city.
Paris certainly cares about its past — as it should — but it's also not afraid to intervene and break free from it in dramatic ways.
We are staying in an aparthotel in Paris. We decided on this type of accommodation for a few reasons. One, we wanted a kitchen so that we could prepare meals. Two, we wanted to be able to do laundry, given that this is the last leg of our trip and we almost exclusively travel with carry-ons. And three, we wanted a workspace area.
The options for these criteria are generally aparthotels, serviced apartments, and Airbnb rentals. But we struggled to find a suitable Airbnb that was reasonably priced and didn't feel lived in. So we ended up booking a place from Edgar Suites, which has a really nice portfolio of properties across Paris and other cities in France.
My view is that we will see more of these kinds of properties as cities systematically work to restrict — and sometimes ban — Airbnb. And so a fourth reason I wanted to stay here was to do some market research.
Here's what I can tell you about our stay.
The check-in process was entirely digital. The night before check-in, I received an email with a code for the building, a one-time code for our apartment (for initial validation), and a go-forward code once our check-in had been validated. Everything worked seamlessly.
There weren't many pictures of our exact suite online, so, to be honest, we weren't 100% sure what we were getting. But we knew it was going to be compact. In Paris real-estate speak, it's a two-piece apartment. That means there are two rooms: a living/kitchen area and a bedroom. The bedroom is a generous 3m x 3.5m. And the street-facing window has a nice ledge that can be used for doing one's makeup or as a place for brazen pigeons to land.
The bathroom is a good size (about 1.5m x 2m), and there's also a separate water closet (toilet room). These are extremely common throughout Europe no matter how small the apartment might be. In Canada, these are far less common and only really appear in the top-end of the market. I certainly think they're a nice feature, but I personally wouldn't sacrifice in other areas of a small space just to have it.
The kitchen is more of a kitchenette. Its linear dimension is just under 1 meter (or 3'3"). We've made some fairly elaborate meals in this kitchen, but it certainly requires some jockeying around. It's nice not having to eat every meal out, especially if you're also trying to work.
Opposite the kitchen is banquette seating and a table for everything. It's the dining table, the work table, and the kitchen prep table. It also folds up against the wall if you'd like to have exactly one incremental person come over and sit in this room. Outside of the kitchen/living area is the building's courtyard (see here for plans of the building).
For those of you who also like to nerd out about dimensions, it's about 5.8m in its longest direction, which means that's the separation distance between our kitchen and our neighbor's bed. So even though this is a small space, it is a dual-aspect apartment. The toilet room also has a window opening up onto this courtyard space.
Finally, the laundry facilities are located in the basement of the building. There are two washing machines and one dryer. We've done multiple loads and they've been great. There's also a small gym on the main floor, which I would add to the list of highly desirable amenities for an aparthotel, or any hotel for that matter.
Overall, we've been very happy with our stay. My only comments would be that a larger living space would be needed for longer stays, there's a surprising lack of conveniently placed outlets in the apartment (one of my part-time jobs is charging devices), and better bathroom products would be a nice upgrade. My wife has taught me that desirable bathroom products, including body lotion, are a huge value-add in hospitality.
If any of you have stayed in a great aparthotel or serviced apartment, please share a link in the comments section below. I am betting that they will only become more common for longer stays, family travel, remote work, and people who are less tethered to one place.
The building was developed by la Société Immobilière de Paris Parc des Princes and two promoters (developers) named Marc Kouznetzoff and Guy Noble. They acquired the site right on the border of Paris and Boulogne in 1931 and then asked Le Corbusier and Pierre to design it. But they struggled to obtain the necessary financing and eventually asked the two architects to work their social circles for people who might want to pre-buy apartments in the building. They also wanted to show that avant-garde architecture, of which this firmly was at the time, could be more attractive than traditional architecture.
To that end, here's a marketing poster from that period (which I think is super interesting):
Like the emailers you'd see today, it shows a rendering of the building (with fancy rich-looking people out front), it touts the project's unique location and views, it mentions the architects (by the 1930s, Le Corbusier would have already been an internationally recognized figure), and it promises that the payment structure will be easy. So all in all, not much has changed over the last century when it comes to marketing new apartments: "Move-in today with only 5% down. Don't miss this unique location in the heart of X, with incredible views of Y."
Construction on the project started in February 1932, but it was slow-moving due to financing constraints and a lack of apartment pre-sales. The project was eventually finished in 1934, but then in 1935 the developer went bankrupt. This precipitated a lengthy legal battle in which the ownership of Le Corbusier's own apartment was even called into question. The dispute was not settled until 1949. During this time, the building not surprisingly fell into disrepair, and it would not be until 1950 that a proper renovation would be undertaken. Once again, this is not the story that is typically taught in architecture schools.
Having visited the building this week during Paris Design Week, I can tell you that the common areas feel tired. There's paint peeling in the lobby and the exit stair — which you're required to take to visit Le Corbusier's penthouse apartment — isn't in the best condition. There are tiles missing on the stairs, and the inner courtyard feels a tad grim. At the same time, there are some very nicely appointed apartments in the building that sell/list for over €14,000 per m2. That feels pretty good to me. And so I guess all is well that ends well in the world of architecture and development.
It would be easy to assume that Paris might be a city trapped in its architectural past. Its global brand is most often associated with the work of Haussmann from the 19th century. The city itself is almost entirely devoid of modern skyscrapers. And heritage preservation rules are, from what I gather, strict. But look behind and beyond Haussmann's facades, and you'll find a city that is progressive and experimental.
Take, for example, the Bourse de Commerce. Originally constructed in the 18th century as a hall to both store and sell wheat, a recent renovation by Japanese architect Tadao Ando dropped an exposed concrete cylinder right in the middle of it. It is now a contemporary art museum and, in my opinion, one of the most architecturally interesting buildings in the city.
Paris certainly cares about its past — as it should — but it's also not afraid to intervene and break free from it in dramatic ways.
We are staying in an aparthotel in Paris. We decided on this type of accommodation for a few reasons. One, we wanted a kitchen so that we could prepare meals. Two, we wanted to be able to do laundry, given that this is the last leg of our trip and we almost exclusively travel with carry-ons. And three, we wanted a workspace area.
The options for these criteria are generally aparthotels, serviced apartments, and Airbnb rentals. But we struggled to find a suitable Airbnb that was reasonably priced and didn't feel lived in. So we ended up booking a place from Edgar Suites, which has a really nice portfolio of properties across Paris and other cities in France.
My view is that we will see more of these kinds of properties as cities systematically work to restrict — and sometimes ban — Airbnb. And so a fourth reason I wanted to stay here was to do some market research.
Here's what I can tell you about our stay.
The check-in process was entirely digital. The night before check-in, I received an email with a code for the building, a one-time code for our apartment (for initial validation), and a go-forward code once our check-in had been validated. Everything worked seamlessly.
There weren't many pictures of our exact suite online, so, to be honest, we weren't 100% sure what we were getting. But we knew it was going to be compact. In Paris real-estate speak, it's a two-piece apartment. That means there are two rooms: a living/kitchen area and a bedroom. The bedroom is a generous 3m x 3.5m. And the street-facing window has a nice ledge that can be used for doing one's makeup or as a place for brazen pigeons to land.
The bathroom is a good size (about 1.5m x 2m), and there's also a separate water closet (toilet room). These are extremely common throughout Europe no matter how small the apartment might be. In Canada, these are far less common and only really appear in the top-end of the market. I certainly think they're a nice feature, but I personally wouldn't sacrifice in other areas of a small space just to have it.
The kitchen is more of a kitchenette. Its linear dimension is just under 1 meter (or 3'3"). We've made some fairly elaborate meals in this kitchen, but it certainly requires some jockeying around. It's nice not having to eat every meal out, especially if you're also trying to work.
Opposite the kitchen is banquette seating and a table for everything. It's the dining table, the work table, and the kitchen prep table. It also folds up against the wall if you'd like to have exactly one incremental person come over and sit in this room. Outside of the kitchen/living area is the building's courtyard (see here for plans of the building).
For those of you who also like to nerd out about dimensions, it's about 5.8m in its longest direction, which means that's the separation distance between our kitchen and our neighbor's bed. So even though this is a small space, it is a dual-aspect apartment. The toilet room also has a window opening up onto this courtyard space.
Finally, the laundry facilities are located in the basement of the building. There are two washing machines and one dryer. We've done multiple loads and they've been great. There's also a small gym on the main floor, which I would add to the list of highly desirable amenities for an aparthotel, or any hotel for that matter.
Overall, we've been very happy with our stay. My only comments would be that a larger living space would be needed for longer stays, there's a surprising lack of conveniently placed outlets in the apartment (one of my part-time jobs is charging devices), and better bathroom products would be a nice upgrade. My wife has taught me that desirable bathroom products, including body lotion, are a huge value-add in hospitality.
If any of you have stayed in a great aparthotel or serviced apartment, please share a link in the comments section below. I am betting that they will only become more common for longer stays, family travel, remote work, and people who are less tethered to one place.