Dijon Highlights Audio Tour: Architectural and Cultural Treasures

Welcome to the Grand Théâtre de Dijon, the historic heart of the Opéra de Dijon. Standing in front of this elegant Neo-classical building, you might assume the city has always enjoyed such refined cultural spaces. The truth is a little scrappier.

Back in the seventeenth century, traveling opera troupes did not have a dedicated theater here. Instead, they performed in what were known as tripots. These were essentially ramshackle gambling dens and indoor tennis courts, quickly repurposed for a night of music. It was loud, crowded, and completely lacking in glamour.

The city finally decided to elevate things in seventeen seventeen by purchasing one of these gambling dens to create a municipal venue. They called it the Salle de Comédie. But there was a catch. For exactly one hundred years, the audience had to watch the performances standing up. They finally installed seats in eighteen seventeen. You have to admire the stamina of an eighteenth-century opera fan.

By that point, a local architect named Jacques Cellerier had already proposed building a proper, purpose-built theater. Finding space in the city center was tricky, so in eighteen zero two, the city simply demolished the Sainte-Chapelle church and its cloister to clear the land right where you are standing. They laid the first stone in eighteen ten, but construction ground to a halt between eighteen fourteen and eighteen twenty-three due to political and financial turmoil. The theater finally opened its doors in eighteen twenty-eight.

Since you are looking at the outside, check your phone to see a glimpse of the grand interior, featuring a monumental Murano crystal chandelier from nineteen hundred suspended in the vestibule. The interior was carefully modeled after the grand Italian opera houses of the era. The area outside has evolved beautifully, too. If you look at the app, you can see how this space transformed between two thousand and six and two thousand and fourteen from a basic street into the inviting pedestrian plaza you see today.

For over a century, this theater was Dijon's only opera house. Today, the Opéra de Dijon actually manages two venues. If you were to walk over to Place Jean Bouhey, you would find the Auditorium de Dijon, which opened in nineteen ninety-eight. It is a massive, modern building shaped like a grand piano and covered in local beige Chassagne limestone, offering seating for over sixteen hundred people.

Between the two venues, the company stages a rich repertory, heavily supported by the city. In two thousand and thirteen, the City of Dijon provided an annual subsidy of seven million euros toward their ten point five million euro budget. This funding allows them to put on massive productions, and even celebrate hometown heroes like Jean-Philippe Rameau, the famous Baroque composer born right here in Dijon.

With a seating capacity of six hundred and ninety-two, the Grand Théâtre remains the city's premier spot for intimate classical performances. Take your time admiring the architecture. When you are ready, we can head to the next stop.

Look to your left for a towering flat stone facade, defined by three massive arched doorways at the base and rows of slender columns topped with projecting stone creatures. This is the Notre Dame Church of Dijon.

Now, Gothic architecture usually loves to show off its flying buttresses and sweeping curves, but the unknown architect who designed this in the twelve twenties did something completely different. Because space was tight in this crowded neighborhood, they built a flat screen facade that completely hides the shape of the church behind it.

Take a close look at those fifty-one stone creatures jutting out from the upper galleries. Check out your screen to see a closer view of these fascinating carvings... You might call them gargoyles, but technically they are chimeras, purely decorative statues that do not actually drain rainwater. And the ones you see today are not the originals.

The story of the first statues is a bit of a dark comedy. In the year twelve forty, a wealthy usurer, a moneylender who charged high interest, was walking across this very square to get married. Right as he passed below the church, a stone figure depicting a usurer suddenly broke loose and fell, killing him on the spot. His furious colleagues demanded the church remove all the decorative figures from the front. For over six hundred years, the facade was bare, until Parisian sculptors added the current monsters during restorations in the eighteen eighties.

Now, look up at the stump of the right tower. You will see a mechanical clock with iron figures. That is the Jacquemart. If you look at your app, you can see the whole mechanical family up close... In thirteen eighty-two, the Duke of Burgundy, Philip the Bold, helped crush a rebellion in the Belgian city of Courtrai. To rub salt in the wound, he dismantled their prized mechanical clock, which featured an automaton, a mechanical figure that strikes a bell, and hauled it all the way back to Dijon as a trophy. Over the centuries, the city thoughtfully gave Jacquemart a mechanical wife, Jacqueline, and two mechanical children, so he would not have to strike the bells all alone.

If you walk around the north side of the building later, you will find a small stone owl carved into a chapel wall. For centuries, visitors have rubbed it with their left hand, the hand closest to the heart, to make a wish. Just make sure you do not look at the carved salamander nearby, or your wish will be canceled.

The church is open to visitors from eight in the morning to six in the evening Monday through Saturday, and from nine to six on Sundays.

Take all the time you need to admire this incredible facade. When you are ready to keep walking, we can move on to the next stop.