As I stand and look at a six-metre skeleton of a domestic cat named Felix, the words of Alice in Wonderland spring to mind: “Curiouser and curiouser.” The monumental sculpture, an arresting sight that immediately challenges perceptions, is a central piece in a truly thought-provoking and enchanting exhibition at the Centre Pompidou-Metz. This sense of wonder, of stumbling upon the unexpected, wasn’t a singular event but a recurring theme throughout my weekend in this lesser-known yet remarkably rich city in north-eastern France. While most travellers arrive in France with preconceived notions of a city break in, say, the iconic avenues of Paris, the gastronomic delights of Lyon, or the vineyard-laced charm of Bordeaux, Metz consistently defies expectations, throwing up surprises at every turn and revealing itself as a profound cultural and historical tapestry. The colossal feline sculpture, a skeletal rendering of what appears to be a domestic cat scaled to the size of a small dinosaur, is the work of the renowned Italian visual artist Maurizio Cattelan. Cattelan, famously known for his provocative and often humorous installations – including the notorious banana-duct-taped-to-a-wall artwork that sparked global debate on artistic value – brings his signature blend of subversion and spectacle to Metz. His works form part of Dimanche Sans Fin (Endless Sunday), a sprawling and ambitious exhibition he has meticulously curated alongside Zoé Stillpass. This extraordinary collection brings together more than 400 works, primarily drawn from the vast holdings of Paris’s Centre Pompidou, which closed its doors last October for an extensive five-year renovation. The temporary relocation of such a significant portion of its collection to Metz underscores the latter’s growing prominence as a cultural hub and a vital extension of France’s national artistic infrastructure. The exhibition itself is a fascinating exploration of how the "day of rest" – Sunday – could be interpreted across various artistic mediums and eras. From the innocent and joyful energy captured in Picasso’s bronze sculpture Little Girl Jumping Rope (1950-1954), depicting a child in mid-leap, to the contemplative stillness of Max Ernst’s surreal figure playing chess in King Playing with the Queen (1944), each piece offers a distinct perspective on leisure, reflection, and the myriad activities (or inactivities) that define a Sunday. Cattelan’s own contribution, Shadow (2023), adds a layer of dark humour and domestic absurdity, showing his mother humorously hiding in a refrigerator – a relatable, albeit extreme, fantasy for anyone overwhelmed by the prospect of preparing a traditional Sunday roast. My tour of this captivating exhibition was expertly guided by Zoé Stillpass, Cattelan’s co-curator, whose enthusiasm for the project was palpable. "It was amazing to have all the pieces from the Paris Pompidou to play with," she remarked, highlighting the unprecedented opportunity to recontextualize such a significant national collection. She drew particular attention to the controversial "banana exhibit," a piece that has been given its own dedicated room within Dimanche Sans Fin. This deliberate isolation emphasizes its role in challenging fundamental questions about "the masterpiece" and the subjective, often arbitrary, mechanisms through which society assigns value to art. Cattelan’s work consistently forces viewers to confront these uncomfortable truths, blurring the lines between art, commodity, and cultural commentary. Yet, even before stepping foot inside the exhibition, my jaw had already dropped in awe at the architectural marvel that houses it: the Centre Pompidou-Metz itself. Opened in 2010, this satellite museum is an extraordinary feat of contemporary design, instantly recognizable and utterly distinctive. Japanese architect Shigeru Ban, a Pritzker Prize laureate celebrated for his innovative use of sustainable materials and his humanitarian design efforts, took inspiration from a traditional Chinese bamboo-woven hat to create its iconic roof. This vision translated into a complex, hexagonal lattice of laminated wood, draped elegantly with a translucent white fibreglass membrane. The result is a structure that is both organic and futuristic, appearing to float gracefully over the expansive public space that once served as the site of a Roman amphitheatre. The building’s ethereal quality, especially when illuminated at night, makes it a landmark that perfectly encapsulates Metz’s blend of ancient heritage and forward-thinking modernity. Metz, it turns out, was something of a playground for architectural experimentation long before the arrival of the Pompidou. My architectural journey began almost immediately upon arrival at the city’s train station, an impressive introduction to Metz’s Germanic Imperial Quarter. This district, a grand testament to a pivotal period in the city’s history, was constructed between 1905 and 1908 during Kaiser Wilhelm II’s annexation of Alsace-Lorraine. The station itself transcends its function as a mere transport hub, resembling more a majestic cathedral than a railway terminus. Its grandeur is evident in the striking stained-glass window depicting Charlemagne, the revered eighth-century Frankish king, alongside intricately carved pillars, shimmering mosaics, and a beautiful glass-roofed arcade that bathes the platforms in natural light. Outside, a stately water tower, a relic of the steam engine era, further punctuates the monumental scale of the architecture. The Imperial Quarter was meticulously designed to evoke a sense of venerable age and established grandeur, despite its relatively recent construction. Its winding streets, leafy squares, and the stately Avenue Foch, lined with ornate mansions, were all part of a deliberate urban planning strategy by the German Empire to transform Metz into a showcase imperial city, visually asserting German dominion over the newly acquired territory. This blend of neo-Romanesque and neo-Gothic styles, often incorporating elements of Jugendstil (Art Nouveau), creates a unique architectural narrative that speaks volumes about the region’s complex Franco-Germanic heritage. Elsewhere, the city’s true old town offers a charming contrast. In Place Saint-Louis, for instance, the medieval stone arcades that once bustled with 14th-century money-changers and merchants are now home to a vibrant array of cafes and restaurants, their terraces sprawling invitingly into the sun-drenched square. This area pulses with the echoes of Metz’s past as a free imperial city, a vital commercial crossroads, and a powerful bishopric. Further enriching this historical tapestry is Renaissance architecture, exemplified by the Maison des Têtes on En Fournirue. Dating from 1529, this exquisite building features five detailed busts above its leaded windows, each a miniature work of art reflecting the era’s fascination with classical motifs and humanism. Conveniently, all these diverse attractions are easily reachable on the city’s free electric shuttle bus, which efficiently loops around the city centre, making exploration a breeze. A different perspective on Metz’s beauty unfolds during a solar-powered boat trip along the tranquil River Moselle. From the water, one gains a panoramic view of the city’s monuments, including a serene Japanese Torii gate, a curious nod to international friendship, and the striking Protestant church, the Temple Neuf. Its distinctive steel-grey roof tiles shimmer elegantly in the sun, reflecting the light and lending a modern edge to its early 20th-century neo-Romanesque design. The Moselle itself has been a lifeline for Metz for centuries, facilitating trade and defining its strategic importance. Undoubtedly, the city’s most imposing and historically significant monument is the Cathédrale Saint-Étienne. Built predominantly from the luminous yellow Jaumont limestone, which lends it a warm, golden glow, the cathedral dates from the 13th century. However, some of its most striking features are surprisingly modern, creating a captivating dialogue between past and present. Among its staggering 6,500 square metres of stained-glass windows – one of the world’s largest expanses of such artistry, earning it the moniker "Lantern of God" – are powerful works from the 1960s by the legendary Russian-French artist Marc Chagall. Vivienne Rudd from the city’s tourist office, an engaging and knowledgeable guide, illuminated the intricate narratives within Chagall’s designs. She explained how Chagall masterfully tells the biblical story of Adam and Eve in his intricate design, with its characteristic abstract lines, vibrant colours, and ethereal, dreamlike figures. "You can see how Eve is in front of the tree of knowledge, holding a snake, and you can see Adam’s face hiding in the blue panes," she pointed out, guiding my eye through the swirling forms. In the windows of the north transept, she then directed me to spot the subtle depiction of Jesus’s head and his crown of thorns. It required some focused concentration, but then, like a revelation, I spied it, a testament to Chagall’s ability to embed profound meaning within seemingly abstract forms. "If you can’t see it, you have to go and drink a shot of mirabelle eau-de-vie [the local plum-based spirit] and then come back and look," she laughed, hinting at the region’s cherished culinary traditions. The Mirabelle plum, a small, sweet golden fruit, is a celebrated emblem of Lorraine, transformed into a delightful range of products from tarts and jams to the potent, fragrant brandy. Even without drinking Alice’s elixir, the sight of Metz’s newest design hotel, Maison Heler, soaring into the sky, makes me feel like I’ve shrunk. This architectural fantasy, conceived by the celebrated Parisian designer Philippe Starck, took a decade to complete but finally opened its doors last March, just a few minutes’ walk from the Centre Pompidou-Metz. Its design is nothing short of extraordinary: a charming, turreted mansion house perched incongruously atop a rather nondescript nine-floor tower block. It’s a bold, whimsical statement that perfectly embodies Starck’s playful approach to design, often blending high art with popular culture. The hotel’s backstory is equally fantastical, a testament to Starck’s penchant for narrative architecture. He devised an elaborate novella, titled The Meticulous Life of Manfred Heler, which explains the building’s bizarre configuration. In this tale, the house, belonging to the eponymous main character, a lonely postwar inventor, is dramatically pushed upwards during a fictional earthquake – hence the mansion resting precariously on the modern tower. The story also introduces his love interest, a milkmaid named Rose, whose gentle spirit and profession inspired the soft, blush-pink decor of the inviting bistro restaurant on the ground floor. Inside, the bedrooms and corridors adopt a more industrial, minimalist vibe, with neutral tones and exposed concrete walls, serving as a clean canvas. Black-and-white photos depicting Manfred’s bizarre scientific experiments adorn the walls, adding a layer of quirky storytelling. Light and colour, however, burst forth from the magnificent stained-glass windows – the exquisite work of the designer’s daughter, Ara Starck – which cast a beautiful, ethereal glow across the wood-panelled restaurant and cocktail bar, majestically situated within Manfred’s house at the very top of the building. This high-up vantage point offers stunning views of Metz, allowing guests to dine amidst the clouds, quite literally. As carefully designed and conceptually rich as it is, Maison Heler is also surprisingly affordable, defying the often-exorbitant prices associated with Starck’s projects. Doubles start from a very reasonable €106 room-only. The food in both restaurants (with mains from €23) is excellent, showcasing fresh, seasonal ingredients with a contemporary French twist. I indulged in delicate white asparagus with hollandaise sauce, followed by perfectly cooked cod served with a light pea broth and a fragrant saffron beurre blanc – a delightful culinary experience. When I later attempted to delve deeper into Manfred’s novella, hoping to gain a more profound understanding of the hotel’s genesis, it proved utterly baffling, a charmingly perplexing read. But perhaps that’s precisely the point, and entirely in keeping with this wonderfully curious, unexpected, and utterly enchanting city of Metz. The trip was provided by Tourism Metz and the Maison Heler (doubles from €106 room-only). Dimanche Sans Fin runs until January 25, 2027, at Centre Pompidou-Metz. Post navigation Enriching the Unseen Gem: A Deep Dive into Chiavenna, Italy’s Alpine Sanctuary. Provence in bloom – exploring its flower festivals and the ‘perfume capital of the world’
