Art Deco Dreams and Pastel Perfection: A Critic's Day in Saint-Quentin

Darling, put down that mediocre espresso and listen to me. If you think the only reason to head south from Haarlem is for Belgian chocolate, you are sadly mistaken. We are going to Saint-Quentin—not the prison in California, as I am far too chic for orange jumpsuits, but the hidden jewel of the Aisne department in France. It is February, the air is crisp enough to shatter like fine sugar, and the Art Deco architecture is waiting to be judged by our superior aesthetic standards. Pack your heaviest wool coat and your most discerning eye; we have a day to conquer.

09:00 – The Ritual of Caffeine and Stone

We begin at the Place de l’Hôtel de Ville. It is the heart of the city and, more importantly, where the coffee lives. Find a table at one of the cafes facing the Town Hall. The facade is a flamboyant Gothic masterpiece, but look closer at the details—those 173 sculptures depicting scenes of local life are far more entertaining than your social media feed. As an art critic, I find the Flamboyant Gothic style a bit "extra," but here it works beautifully.

For a practical start, park your car at the Place de la Liberté. It is a short, breezy walk to the center, and you will need the steps to justify the pastries we are inevitably going to consume. Remember that in France, a "café" is a tiny shot of liquid adrenaline. If you want a Dutch-sized mug, ask for a "café allongé."

10:30 – The Basilica and the Light

A few steps away lies the Basilica of Saint-Quentin. It is massive, imposing, and has survived more wars than my vintage Chanel boots. The interior is a lesson in resilience. Because the city was nearly erased during the Great War, the restoration efforts have left us with a fascinating mix of medieval structure and modern stained glass. The light in February is low and sharp, hitting the floor in ways that would make Vermeer weep. It is quiet, contemplative, and mercifully free of the tourist throngs you find in Paris. Take a moment to appreciate the labyrinth on the floor; it is meant for pilgrimage, but let’s just use it to practice our runway walk.

11:30 – The Prince of Pastels

Now for the main event: the Musée Antoine Lécuyer. This is why we are here. The museum houses the world’s largest collection of works by Maurice-Quentin de La Tour. He was the "Prince of Pastels" in the 18th century, and darling, his portraits are so vibrant they practically gossip with you. Unlike oil paintings that can feel heavy and somber, these pastels have a luminous, velvety quality that is impossible to replicate.

De La Tour captured the Enlightenment elite—Rousseau, Voltaire, and Louis XV—with a psychological depth that was revolutionary for his time. Look at the eyes; he didn't just paint faces, he painted souls. It is rare to see so many of his "preparations" or sketches in one place. It feels intimate, as if we’ve stepped directly into his studio in 1750.

13:00 – Oysters and Greens

By now, my stomach is making more noise than a contemporary art installation involving chainsaws. We are heading toward the Marché Couvert, the local covered market. While I love a good horse—they are the most aesthetic of animals—I prefer not to eat them, despite what some traditional French butchers might suggest. Instead, we are looking for the seafood stalls.

In this part of France, the oysters from the nearby coast are divine. We shall find a local bistro nearby—look for "Le Grand Café" for that authentic Art Deco interior—and order a platter of Huîtres and a very large salad. I need my greens to maintain this glow, and the French have a way with vinaigrette that is frankly suspicious. It’s healthy, fresh, and feels appropriately decadent for two women of our standing.

14:30 – The Butterfly Effect

I promised you rare museums, and I deliver. We are going to the Musée des Papillons. Located inside the Espace Saint-Jacques, this museum holds over 20,000 butterfly and insect specimens. Before you tell me you aren't a scientist, look at it through the lens of contemporary art. The patterns, the iridescent blues, and the symmetrical precision represent nature’s own gallery. It is bizarre, slightly Victorian, and utterly fascinating, reminding us that the most beautiful palettes weren't invented by humans.

The museum is a bit of a local secret. It’s quiet, which makes it perfect for reflecting on the fragility of beauty. Plus, the gift shop often has quirky botanical prints that look far more expensive than they actually are.

16:00 – The Art Deco Safari

Saint-Quentin is the Art Deco capital of France, a title it earned by necessity. After 80 percent of the city was destroyed in World War I, it was rebuilt in the 1920s. We are going on a walking tour, so keep your eyes up. We are looking for geometric ironwork, stylized floral motifs, and those delicious pastel-colored mosaics.

Stop by the Palais de l’Art Déco, the former "Nouvelles Galeries" department store. The staircase is a masterpiece of wrought iron. Then, wander toward the Rue de la Sellerie. Every facade tells a story of 1920s optimism. It’s like being in a Hercule Poirot set, minus the murder and with much better outfits.

17:30 – Bookstores and Quiet Corners

No trip is complete without a bookstore. Librairie Cognet is a local institution and the kind of place where you can lose an hour in the art history section. I’ll be looking for a monograph on French modernism, while you find something with a pretty cover to look intelligent with at dinner. There is something about the smell of old paper in a cold climate that is deeply comforting.

19:30 – The Final Act

We end our day with dinner at a spot that respects the ingredients. Look for a place serving "Cuisine du Marché." We want seasonal vegetables, perhaps some local Maroilles cheese—be warned, it smells like a gym locker but tastes like heaven—and a glass of crisp white wine.

As we sit there reflecting on our day of pastels and butterflies, you’ll realize that Saint-Quentin isn't just a stop on the way to somewhere else. It is a lesson in how a city can reinvent itself with style. It is resilient, artistic, and just a little bit eccentric—much like ourselves, don't you think? Now, finish your wine. We have a long drive back to Haarlem, and I have many more opinions to share with you on the way home.