The Opéra Garnier as Rarely Seen: The Untold Story of Charles Garnier

Dear Billie,

I’m writing you this with the most Parisian view you could ever dream up. Hazel’s* apartment overlooks the Seine, and with today’s snowstorm, the rooftops look like they've been dusted with powdered sugar. It’s the first quiet moment I’ve had since I landed. A full week has flown by, and my head is still spinning.

First things first, thank you. No, really… thank you. For Hazel. For the airport send-off. For slipping that little French phrasebook into my coat pocket. Turns out, I needed it more than I thought. My high school French is rustier than I care to admit. I should’ve listened to Miss Monique instead of doodling camera sketches in the margins of my notebook.

Hazel has been a total marvel … warm, generous, and full of the most incredible records full of stories. Her apartment buzzes every evening with writers, painters, musicians drifting in and out like it's the most natural thing in the world. Everyone talks fast and smokes even faster.

Yesterday, I wandered out with no real plan, just following the curve of the Seine. I got lost among the green metal newspaper stalls and suddenly found myself standing before the Palais Garnier. Billie, you would’ve swooned. It's so grand, so dramatic... straight out of a dream.

I stood there for the longest time thinking about that conversation we had on the way to the airport. I remember you wondering if there was a place for your voice in the jazz scene, or if it was all just meant for the big names like Sarah Vaughan. Well, I learned something about this building today that made me think of you.

Apparently, the architect, Charles Garnier, was a total "unknown" when he started. For years, the government had been dither-dallying about a new opera house, and everyone assumed the job would go to some old, established architect with all the right "connections".

But they held a public competition to find the best design: talent alone, no favorites played. Charles Garnier was the son of the a blacksmith! His own health was so frail he could never follow that trade. Instead, he studied and dreamed, often while battling terrible bouts of depression and self-doubt. He spent years working boring bureaucratic jobs just to pay rent.

When the competition was announced, he had only one month to submit a design. Garnier worked like a man possessed. His first draft didn’t impress the judges, but instead of giving up, he reworked it, refining every detail until it stood apart. That persistence changed everything. The unknown architect won the commission to design what would become one of the most extraordinary buildings in the world.

So, if you ever doubt your place in music, just remember: even the world’s most iconic stage was once just a sketch in the hands of someone just starting out, too. 

I wish you were here. Paris would suit you down to the ground. In the meantime, I’m sending you a print of the Opéra, back when it was still being built around 1880. I think you’ll love the grit of it.

More soon,