Some years ago, while in Paris, I was invited by a friend to play tennis at an exclusive club tucked away between tall residential buildings and the River Seine. The courts were composed of red clay, the characteristic surface of European tennis facilities. But the lines were so unusual that I took a close-up photo of them. As I write this, that picture is on the desk beside me. The lines consist of small white tiles arranged side by side and tamped into the clay court surface. Think of that. No tapes to nail down, no stripes to painstakingly paint. How utilitarian. How enduring. How artistic. How French.

Seeing that red clay in the picture reminded me of something else enduring, artistic, and uniquely French: the tennis championships played annually at Stade Roland Garros. The most grueling tournament in the...

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