If you look closely, very closely, at the masonry above the arch of the Gate of the Dead at the Roman amphitheater in Saintes, you can make out a fine line that indicates where a mason stopped his work for the day.

Unless a sign is eventually placed there, you won’t find the exact spot on your own. And even when Karine Robin, head of the archeology department for Charente-Maritime, points to and explains her discovery, I can’t be sure if I’m seeing the line or imagining it through her enthused description. I lean closer. Yes, there it is—eureka!—a trace of thrilling triviality within a Roman ruin in a bypassed town, shown by a proud and passionate archeologist. Astounding!

The minutia of the archeologist’s discovery and her vivid explanation light in my mind a spark that begins to illuminate the course of 2000 years of history, from a mason’s day in about 40 AD to the crowds who filled the amphitheater over the next four centuries or so, then the crumbling of the Roman Empire and the gradual transformation, dismantling and degradation of the amphitheater until archeologist began to study the partially buried structure in the 19th-century and now its fine-comb examination by Karine Robin and her team who have been investigating the site and restoring its remnants along with the National Institute for Preventive Archeological Research (Inrap).

That something so seemingly inconsequential in my own life—evidence of a Gallo-Roman mason leaving work for the day—should suddenly make a 3½-hour train ride from Paris feel worthwhile is in itself extraordinary. Often, the greatest reward of sightseeing isn’t a sight itself but the sparks that light in the mind when an informed person enthusiastically gives it context and teaches you how to look at it.

Would you go out of your way for that?

Probably not. You’ve already been the Colosseum in Rome, you say—impressive indeed. And to Arles and to Nimes, you say—yes, wonderful towns to visit. Me, too.

The Arena (Amphitheater)

Then what more can you find here when in fact far less remains of the cavea or seating area and far less of those wide passages that allowed for crowds to enter and exit? I scan the ruin. I listen to our guides. Those passages, we’re told, are called vomitories. Hearing that, a new spark illuminates the connection between the Latin spoken by Roman masons and emperors and the food poisoning I may have gotten from a 3-star Michelin restaurant several years ago. Like Helen Keller by the water pump and the tree, I want to the learn names of things. Those arched passageways to either end of the amphitheater are evocatively called the Gate of the Living (Porte des Vivants), on the eastern side, opening toward the city, and the Gate of the Dead (Porte des Morts), opening to the then-countryside to the west. It’s on the occasion of the restoration of the latter that Karine Robin has discerned the mason’s fine line. No, it isn’t only men who are intrigued by the history of the Roman Empire, though it could be that men are more susceptible to Roman sparks.

We’re visiting what is locally referred to as “the arena” but is technically speaking an amphitheater, i.e. a theater with seating on both sides. Not that I’ve become a connoisseur of Roman architecture in the past hour, but the traveler learns such things on site, and more: about the amphitheater’s religious, political and entertainment functions for a location population invited to witness wild animals in a hunting show in the morning, executions at noon, gladiator fights in the afternoon.

And there they are, on the theater floor today—gladiators! We go over to speak with them—well, the men in our group do. They aren’t real gladiators but strong and knowledgeable reenactors who perform here in summer. They present their shields and daggers, their metal helmets and leather padding.

There are no combats this afternoon, but we’re drawn in by their accounts of the lives of the trained fighters of ancient Rome. Today’s friendly gladiators now take evident pleasure in deflating our greatest sense of a gladiator fight: that it all ended with a life-saving thumbs-up or a deadly thumbs-down. We could have Googled “Roman hand signals” for details, but learning from reenactors who share their passion and knowledge right here on the theater floor makes think that I might have been a bit overdramatic yesterday when I complained to a friend about taking the 6:48am train from Paris.

Then, just as I’m enthralled by an account of the glamorous and dangerous life of a hall-of-fame gladiator, we’re told that (Christian) Emperor Honorius prohibited gladiator combat in the year 404.

I look around at the grassy, rocky bowl that surrounds us, not to imagine the last of the cheering crowds but take in the pleasing view of sheep grazing on slopes that once held seating for up to 15,000 spectators, the town’s entire populations, all welcome, seated according to social status. And I sense the end of this amphitheater as a venue for the thrill of executed justice and violent entertainment. I sense the dismantling of temples, the surrounding of the city by ramparts, the rise of the Visigoths, the Sack of Rome.

Would you go out of your way for that?

I didn’t think so. But if there are remnants of a Roman amphitheater there’s got to be more to see in Saintes.

The name Saintes might lead you to imagine that the presence of a mother lode of Christian relics or a history of pious devotion, perhaps some memorable martyrdom. Though a certain Saint Eutropius was (for some, is) indeed venerated here as an early Christian martyr (I’ll get to him), Saintes is instead derived from the name of the Celtic tribe that inhabited the region at the time of the Roman invasion with Julius Caesar’s Gallic Wars and far before the evangelization of Gaul. They were the Santoni. Under Roman rule, the developing town was given the name Mediolanum, or Mediolanum Santonum to add the term for its inhabitants. (Similarly, the Parisii were the pre-Roman inhabitants of what would become Paris, a town the Romans called Lutetia or Lutetia Parisiorum.)

Mediolanum/Saintes developed just beyond a sharp bend in the Charente River. The town is now somewhat removed from major routes through France, hence the 3½ train from Paris with a change of trains at Angoulême. On the map below, you have to zoom in above and Bordeaux to locate Saintes along the Charente between Cognac, 17 miles to the east, and Rochefort, 24 miles northwest.

Two thousand years ago, however, Mediolanum held a proud place on the map of Gaul as capital of the large province of Aquitaine. Here, the east-west Via Agrippa, the route coming from Ludgunum (now Lyon), met the north-south route through Aquitaine, a sign of the town’s geographical and political importance.

The amphitheater is testimony to the town’s prominence early in the Roman colonization of Gaul. Completed in about 40 AD and dedicated to Emperor Claudius (41-54 AD), who had been born in Lugdunum, its construction predates that of the Colosseum of Rome by about 30 years and that of the amphitheaters of Arles and Nimes by 50 and 60 years respectively.

Bordeaux would take over as the capital of Roman Aquitaine in the 2nd century, leaving Mediolanum with a secondary role, then less so as centuries passed. Saintes is now a part of the vast region of New Aquitaine, whose capital is Bordeaux. Its current population is only 27,000 (56,000 with the metropolitan area), less than double what it was 2000 years ago. Its inhabitants are called the Saintais and Santaises.

The Arch of Germanicus

Even before the construction of the amphitheater, Mediolanum bore the proud markers of a Roman town.

Its first aqueduct was already supplying water, and a second would soon be added to provide a more abundant supply to the growing provincial capital. Remnants of these can be seen at their sources in the countryside 6-7 miles outside of town. Fascinating as they may be, it’s likely that only a diehard explorer of antiquity with a vehicle will inquire the route at the tourist office to seek them out.

Every visitor to Saintes, however, takes a walk along the river to see the Arch of Germanicus, built about 18-19AD. (Also, the tourist office is close by.) Originally constructed at the point of arrival of the Via Agrippa, the arch was the entrance gate to the bridge crossing the Charente into the heart of Mediolanum. The double-arch gate honors Emperor Tiberius, his son Druus and his adoptive son Germanicus, yet Germanicus gets sole reverence today since his name is the most legible of those inscribed along the arch’s crown.

In 1843, the arch was displaced 150 yards from its original position as the bridge and waterfront were modified. So it now stands isolated and out of context, diminishing some of its aura. Nevertheless, as we stand by the river with a full view of the arch and learn from Cécile Trébuchet, a dynamic local guide, how to interpret its blocks and inscriptions, visiting Saintes feels less like a detour and more like an arrival. It also inspires a wiki read about Tiberius and the imperial gang of 2000 years ago that later sends me down the rabbit hole of Roman history from which I eventually emerge with the sense that the same gang is at it today.

A visit to the town’s Archeology Museum, right nearby, seems like the natural next step. Unless it’s mealtime, in which case consider the restaurant barge La Batiâ that’s docked by the arch.

Would you go out of your way for that?

Unlikely. Maybe a medieval monument or two will tilt the balance. Three medieval bell towers stand out above the pale red tile roofs of Saintes, those of the Abbaye aux Dames (the Ladies’ Abbey), of Saint Pierre (St. Peter) Cathedral and of Saint Eutrope (Eutropius) Basilica.

The Tomb and Crypt of Saint Eutropius

Saintes’s most unique medieval sight is the basilica’s crypt, a subterranean church containing the tomb on the early Christian missionary and lapidated martyr Saint Eutropius. A site of devotion since the mid-500s, the presence of the saint’s tomb later earned Saintes a stop on the Way of Saint James to Compostella, Spain. The tomb now lies in dramatic simplicity in the heart of a vast crypt of the 11th century. The light, the chill and the musty smell there create a spectacular and eerie atmosphere that flirts between virtuous intimacy and the possibility of eternal damnation, as the most titillating flirts do. It’s open to the public, if you dare enter the gaping mouth of the entrance to the great below. The leafy decorations of its column capitals provide touches of charm that partially alleviate the sense that the end is nigh. But be forewarned: Stand inside alone for more than a few minutes and you’ll either fall to your knees in a desperate plea to be saved or run out in a panic to save yourself. I chose the latter.

The Ladies’ Abbey: Hotel, Church, Music Conservatory

You’d be hard pressed to find a tourist trap in Saintes considering how few foreign tourists venture this way. That point alone can be the attraction as an overnight for the wayward traveler, or for someone suddenly struck with wanderlust, or for a cyclist on the easy-going Rochefort-Cognac leg of the Flow Vélo route. Consider then a peaceful night at the Abbey aux Dames, the Ladies’ Abbey, which is also a highlight for the day visitor.

Founded in 1047, the Ladies’ Abbey, is a successful contemporary example of ways in which heritage sights can be rehabilitated to the benefit of local life, local economy, culture, and visitors. While one portion of the complex is now used for social housing, the central portion houses a music conservatory, an auditorium and a hotel, along with the abbey church. The complex also has an information desk, a boutique, a café and a strange playable musical tent of sorts.

The abbey church remains the medieval centerpiece. Though the Benedictines nuns were sent packing during the Revolution, the Romanesque church was later reconsecrated and continues to hold Catholic service. Fires in 1608 and 1648 led to the rebuilding of the convent buildings in the 17th century. From the Revolution until just after the First World War, the site served as military barracks, housing about 2000 men. Audio guides are available to explore the thousand-year history of the site and to appreciate its recent musical vocation.

In 1972, the tired complex was given new life when it became the venue for a Classical music festival. The former abbey now hosts musical programs throughout the year, culminating in the annual Festival de Saintes. In 2025, nearly 12,000 people attended the 29 concerts performed over 8 days in July at the abbey and elsewhere in Saintes.

Situated between the station and the river, the abbey hotel is conveniently situated for lodging train travelers and bikers.

The 33 bedrooms occupy the former cells of nuns along a hallway on the second floor of the main convent building. Only several of the rooms have en suite bathrooms. Most share bathrooms on the hallway (bathrobes and slippers are provided). That will be off-putting for some, but will add a sense of community to others.

The hotel is not for ladies only, and this is not roughing it. The rooms are comfortable. The architecture itself is the primary décor. The quiet of the immediate surroundings, the history of the place, and the arched stone-and-brick ceiling of the bedrooms inspire guests to sleep the sleep of nuns or soldiers or Classical musicians or tired tourists, depending on what dreams, nightmares or fantasies overcome you. About 100€ per room per night is a reasonable price to find out. The complex is open year-round, however the hotel section primarily operates April to September. The rest of the year it opens only for groups reserving 10 rooms or more.

Other nice lodging options for train travelers or cyclists include Hotel des Messageries, a 3-star by the river and the town center, and La Porte Rouge – The Red Door Inn, a charming B&B in the center. Those traveling by car may also consider Relais du Bois Saint Georges, a 4-star on the edge of town.

The Dupuy-Mestreau Museum

It’s from a side street that we enter this handsome private mansion of the 18th century that otherwise faces the Charente River. In the 19th century the mansion was purchased by Abel Mestreau (1855-1939), a wealthy Cognac merchant and a collector of regional folklore, curiosities and apparently whatever struck his fantasy. He never actually lived here. The Dupuy-Museum Museum is so scarcely visited and the discolored collection is so eclectic that that itself may appeal to those who like feeling that they’ve left main-road travelers way behind.

As much as I appreciate having our guide explain the interest of the various costumes, clothing, regional headdresses (coiffes), paintings, regional artefacts, furnishings, knick-knacks, pottery, jewelry, and what-the-heck-is-thats, I also enjoy wandering around on my own so as to make up stories about various objects, e.g. this gal with the racket; I call her the goddess of tennis. Not unlike visiting Saint Eutropius’s crypt, eclectic regional museums such as this inspire in me a mix of intense curiosity and a desire to flee.

Curiosity got the better of us all. We hung around long enough to see the royalist treasure among the footwear display: a cute pair of slipper-shoes said to have been worn by deposed king Louis XVI during his imprisonment, as he awaited the trial that would eventually lead to his execution. I’m glad I saw them, because that gives me a reason to tell you a Saintes fun fact: Saintes was the birthplace in 1738 of Joseph-Ignace Guillotin whose name lives on in the term for the machine for humane and expedient execution that he championed: the guillotine. An etching of the fellow is among the collection.

Would I advise you to go out of you way for that or does this sound like a far way to go for yet another quaint small town in France?

Still wondering.

Cognac Grosperrin

After all of the vestiges and artefacts that we’ve encountered through the day, we air out our dusty minds with a stroll along the river. It leads us to the offices and cellars of Saintes’s last remaining Cognac broker. As we approach, we imagine barges docked nearby to load casks for shipping when these cellars were first operational in 1851.

Cognac, the town that gave its name to the world-renown double-distilled brandy, is 17 miles upriver, to the east, yet Saintes lies within the cognac grape-growing zone. While most of the major players in the Cognac market are in and around Cognac, the Grosperrin Cognac house, located here, is increasingly known to connoisseurs. Since 1999, first under Jean Grosperrin then, beginning in 2004, under his son Guilhem, Cognac Grosperrin has made a name for itself by purchasing from a variety of sources single-terroir and vintage Cognacs in oak casks, which it then continues to age before bottling and selling at what it deems the appropriate time.

The main cellar, with its old casks and demijohns, most of which are dated and authenticated with official sealing, is an impressive sight in its own right when one thinks of the history (your own, France’s, the world’s) that the dates represent. Then comes the tasting.

I will admit here that among French brandies I never had a taste for Cognac, finding it too harsh for my palate. Before now, that is. Turns out that my impression was based on middling or young Cognacs, the kind best reserved for cocktails or give-me-anything-that-burns digestives. When well-selected fruit is well-distilled and well-aged, it’s an entirely different experience. The same can be said for Calvados (apple) and Armagnac (grape), the two other internationally known French brandies, but I’ve generally been more forgiving when sipping middling versions of those, on the one hand because I’m a frequent visitor to the Calvados region of Normandy and accept that apple brandy is a unpretentious spirit, and on the other because the Armagnac-producing region of southwest France is so enchantingly rural. One reason that I didn’t write about the town of Cognac after a quick visit there ten years ago was that I couldn’t quite wrap my tongue around its namesake brandy. I now realize that I need to go back and try again, because one sip—one spark—of a vintage offered by out tasting guide Maxence le Moulec at Grosperrin and I find myself wondering where I can buy a nice set of crystal brandy glasses. A sip of another and I’m thinking of purchasing a set of leather armchairs. One more and I’m considering looking for an apartment with a working fireplace.

Grosperrin isn’t only a connoisseur’s Cognac. It can also be a Cognac for infrequently imbibing non-connoisseurs who would enjoy splurging for a quality bottle that will last a while, or for someone who already owns a set of leather chairs and crystal tumblers but not the brandy to go with it, or, finally, someone who may never buy a bottle Cognac but wants a sip of local heritage excellence while traveling in the region. Even a sniff-swirl-and-spit tasting may suffice to understand the meaning of carpe diem, as the Roman poet sang. Let’s take this opportunity to recall what the Roman playwright said: “Moderation in all things is the best policy.”

For 7€, visitors are welcome for a tour and tasting. More intense and in-depth tasting tours can be reserved for 45€ and 150€. Advance booking is advised. Grosperrin isn’t the only merchant to go for quality in the Cognac-producing region, but I give them their due for sparking my interest in Cognac.

Is Cognac too harsh for you? Try Pineau des Charentes when in the region. Pineau is a fortified wine of about 17% in which grape juice (white, red or rosé) and Cognac are mixed and aged on oak barrels to create a sweet aperitif, served chilled. Don’t drink? Savor the food stands at the Saint Pierre Market on Wednesday and Saturday mornings.

So would I recommend that you go out of the way for Saintes?

I thought about the question on the long train ride back to Paris. How could I possibly give a generic answer? To each his or her own sparks, interests, imagination and cheap thrills. But don’t readers deserve an answer, a proverbial thumbs-up or thumbs-down or an algorithmic 1 to 5 stars? Was there something special here or was this just another quaint old French town? And if the latter, isn’t that enough?

I thought of all I’d done: I’d met archeologists and gladiators, learned history and words, descended into an eerie crypt, slept in a nunnery, wandered around a bizarre museum, nipped Cognac. Then suddenly, in a spark, I imagined Julius Ceasar, pleased, contemplative and exhausted on his way home from the Gallic Wars that would change the course of history all along this train route. I felt just like that. I came, I saw, I conked out.

© 2025, Gary Lee Kraut

Read about two other towns in the department of Charente-Maritime in New Aquitaine, Rochefort and La Rochelle.

The post Sparks of Curiosity in Saintes appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Soon after moving to Dordogne in early 2023, Ava Kabouchy found herself intrigued by the Gardens of Marqueyssac, first as a visitor in awe of the clifftop estate, then as a photographer wishing to capture the impressive array of topiaries, the subtle shades of green, the long alleys, the wandering peacocks, the chapel beyond the iris bush, the gardeners at precision work, the employees informing and entertaining visitors, and more. From February through April, then again in December, she returned four more times to examine the abundant and eye-pleasing life of the 54-acre park with its more than 3½ miles of pathways.

I, Gary, also had the pleasure of strolling along the paths of Marqueyssac this year, on a bright September morning, and though writing is my primary tool rather than photography, I couldn’t help but want to record with my phone the views that I took in.

This photo reportage leans on Ava’s photographs, supported by my contributions and several photos provided by Marqueyssac itself. I organized the images into the eight strolls and wrote the descriptions and captions.

Where is Marqueyssac?

Located five miles from the well-preserved old town of Sarlat, Marqueyssac occupies a promontory 425 feet over the Dordogne River. Even without its gardens, Marqueyssac would be a worthy destination for its panoramic views out to the villages, chateaux, walnut orchards and winding river that make this such an alluring region. Add the gardens themselves—along with a small chateau, a café overlooking the valley, and numerous activities proposed to visitors—and you get a singular sight. While especially famous for its more than 150,000 boxwoods, Marqueyssac’s attraction extends well beyond them. The site lends itself to a variety of strolls: romantic, contemplative, family, boxwood-botanical, and more. Though the organized activities here slow down during the short cold days of late autumn and winter, Marqueyssac, open every day of the year, is truly a year-round destination.

The Boxwood or Botanical Stroll

European boxwoods are the defining greenery of Marqueyssac. There are some 150,000 in all, either trimmed or otherwise tamed, destructured or left to grow naturally. Ava was the first visitor on the morning she took the photo above, but the work-day of gardener Christophe Kursac, glimpsed trimming a topiary upper right, was already well underway. Christophe, the head gardener, is one of the six full-time gardeners, who, along with four seasonal gardeners, ensure that the site’s unique presentation of topiaries—all trimmed by hand twice annually—and the overall park remain in tip-top shape for the more than 200,000 visitors that come each year.

Though the noble history of Marqueyssac begins with a landscaping project of 1692, the estate’s boxwood connection dates to the late 19th century. In 1861, Julien de Cerval (1818-1893), a magistrate of nearby Sarlat, inherited the property. His passion—obsession—for boxwoods was sparked by his travels in Italy, as were the cypress and umbrella pine and various shrubs encountered along the garden paths. Boxwoods (buxus sempervirens) are well suited to the limestone soil of Marqueyssac. Successive owners, without the funds or passion to maintain de Cerval’s work, eventually allowed the bushes and trees to grow untamed and the garden paths to all but disappear.

Enter Kleber Rossillon, the driving force behind the estate’s restoration. His parents had purchased the fortress castle of Castelnaud on the opposite side of the Dordogne River, visible in this shot between boxwoods and pines.

At age 30, Rossillon took the reins of Castelnaud, which he developed into a major tourist attraction with its family-friendly museum about war in the Middle Ages. In 1996, he purchased the estate of Marqueyssac and set about a major restoration of de Cerval’s garden along with contemporary additions that now fit seamlessly into the overall gardenscape. The gardens reopened to the public in 1997.

On the strength of those experiences in Dordogne, Kleber Rossillon’s company has expanded to become a significant private player in the management of historical sites open to the public in France, including the Montmartre Museum in Paris, the Castle of Langeais in the Loire Valley, and the Cosquer Cave in Marseille, among others. His daughter Geneviève Rossillon is now the company’s managing director.

These boxwood topiary “bricks” appear as blocks rolling down the hill towards the château. Plumb lines ensure precision of the rectangular shapes, but the main tools are sharp shears and elbow grease. Not all of Marqueyssac’s boxwoods are topiaries. Many are also left untamed, where they can reach heights of up to 30 feet.

The captivating variety of shades of green catch the photographer’s eye. Keep Marqueyssac in mind if you’re looking for a place to mark World Topiary Day, the Sunday that follows May 12.

If you’ve ever tried your hand at a topiary, you know that creating and maintaining even a single one for just a year requires commitment. Imagine, on your boxwood stroll, the devotion that goes into maintaining thousands of them. Each topiary is hand-trimmed twice per year. When not too crowded, don’t hesitate to use your best French to mention your appreciation to the gardeners for their work and even ask a question or two about it. They may be happy for the opportunity to stretch their aching backs and respond.

Most of the boxwoods at Marqueyssac take their roots from those originally planted towards the end of the 19th-century by then-owner Julien de Cerval.

The Valley-View Stroll

When I compared my photos with Ava’s, I found that hers studiously looked inward and down green pathways in search of the beauty and geometric nuances of the gardens, while mine occasionally turned outward to the Dordogne Valley. Perhaps, in the case of this photo, because I’d just pointed out to my strolling companion that I would next be headed there, to the riverside village of La Roque-Gageac.

I’m a point-and-shoot kind of guy, hoping to come away a telling or memorable image. And I can’t resist a gentle point-and-sweep, though I’m never sure where the sweep should end and sometimes just go around in a full circle. But in the short video below, a garden fairy suddenly appeared indicating that it was time to hit “stop” and stroll on. She’s Stéphanie Angleys, Marqueyssac’s communications officer and my guide through the gardens.

I’d more or less completed our project when Ava returned on a December morning then sent several more photos, including this.

Perhaps it was the dampness of the day that turned her eye away from the garden path, beyond the geometry of the boxwoods and the leaflessness trees to the sodden winter landscape with the grey river running through. Still, you notice that her focus remained in the garden, unwilling to let go and reaffirming that the gardens of Marqueyssac are a year-round destination.

The valley-view stroller—in fact any stroller who makes it to the far end—is rewarded with a 360° view from the highest part of the gardens. This Cross marks the spot. We leave it to you to discover on your own the view that goes with it.

The Romantic Stroll

While you and your loved one will quickly be drawn into the meticulousness of the topiaries, romance thrives on the less planned as well. Beyond the precise trimming, Marqueyssac is home to enough unfocused fantasy—albeit intentionally unfocused fantasy—and dreamy points of view to allow for an exquisite romantic stroll as well.

Arrive early enough in the day and you might even feel that you have the place to yourselves.

The romantic stroll proceeds at a gentle pace. And a stroll wouldn’t be romantic if it didn’t also include a romantic sit, or several, to prolong the pleasure. The bench above, overlooking the valley, is perfectly suited for a starry-eyed conversation (oh, the places we’ve been)… while the one below is an even sweeter spot for a sun-dappled snuggle stop.

If, after a while, you get into one of those tiffs that even the best of travelers find themselves in with a loved one, turning a corner to find a peacock, the mascot of Marqueyssac, perched on a ledge will be a sign to return to each other’s hand.

The fellow below isn’t shy about unfurling his seductive plumage in a mating ritual despite human presence—and presumably because there’s a peahen around—so you needn’t either. Within limits of course, and with less of a squawk if possible.

Peering through the evergreen oaks to the village of La Roque Gageac may feel like your private discovery, something that only you and your love share.

If your love was reading a travel guide in bed last night, then he may take this opportunity to inform you that Dordogne, the “department” or sub-region, in which Marqueyssac is located, more or less follows the borders of the historic province of Périgord. So while Périgord no longer officially exists, he’ll explain, the two names are often used interchangeably. Périgord (Dordogne) is unofficially divided into four color-coded landscape-defined sections: Green Périgord, White Périgord, Purple Périgord, Black Périgord. White refers to the limestone soil and the white buildings constructed with it in and around Dordogne’s capital Perigueux. Green refers to the vegetation to the north. Purple refers to the wine growing region in the west (Bergerac and surroundings). Black refers to the dark leaves and shadows of evergreen oaks (quercus ilex) to this southwest quadrant of Dordogne/Périgord. That’s where Marqueyssac lies. Black Périgord is the quadrant with the most tourist appeal (Sarlat, the Dordogne and Vézère Valleys, Marqueyssac, Castelnaud, etc.). That’s fascinating, honey, you’ll reply. Let’s not read in bed tonight.

The Contemplative Stroll

Come alone, walk with a thought-provoking friend, or temporarily lose your loved ones or friends along the way and those same romantic paths and views appear refreshingly contemplative. That snuggle bench above then becomes a seat for private reverie or to write a vignette … as long as you resist taking out your phone to check for messages and news.

Though visitors inevitably remember, photograph and return to the rounded or straight-edge topiaries, the overall park has a rich vegetation that lends itself to contemplation of this good and suffering Earth.

The vegetation on the southern side leans to the Mediterranean with cypresses, umbrella pines, evergreen oaks, and more. Its northern side leans more to the Atlantic with locust trees added to the mix.

Through Ava’s damp lens, the scene by the entrance, which looked so promising in the opening shot, now holds an eerie, contemplative fascination in the photo below.

The topiaries no longer appear as the achievement of creative landscapers and hard-laboring gardeners but seem to be caused by something boiling or furrowing underground. Are we safer here or in the disorderly landscape that lies beyond and below. Are the tile rooftops hints of refuge or danger?

Ava found a wistful contemplative moment from inside the chateau, between the parted curtains, looking out to the topiaries and the naked trees on a visitor-less late winter’s morning.

And she found it again with a feeling of quiet and peace beneath the dripping cascade in a shallow pond known as “the Zen.”

The limestone cliffs that surround Marqueyssac don’t contain any water source other than rain, and there is no spring within the gardens, so Kléber Rossillon added a silent pump to create the waterfall on a closed circuit. But no need to focus on the mechanics in that dreamy corner of the park.

Contemplation may not best describe one’s reaction to the creature below, but if nothing else, the sight of this 150-million-year-old skeleton of an allosaurus, visible from a garden path, will get you wondering what the heck it’s doing here.

This Jurassic-era dinosaur—about 75% original remnant, measuring 24.6 feet long by 8.2 feet high—was found in Wyoming and purchased by Kléber Rossillon in 2016.

The Cliffhanger’s Stroll

Not only do the gardeners and the boxwoods cling to the cliffs, but so can visitors on a climb-stroll above the greenery along the limestone walls of Marqueyssac.

The cliffside strollway, its Via Ferrata, is punctuated with metal steps and rings and fixed safety cables. Fitted with a harness, lanyard and helmet and attached to the course-long lifeline, visitors 8 years old and over and taller than 1.3 meters (a tad over 4-foot 3 inches) can securely take this 220-yard climb-stroll.

Ava came across this adventurous family as they prepared for final instruction before going on the Via Ferrata.

Cliff-strolling not your thing? You can nevertheless step into the trees on this elevated path beyond the creepy rock-head sculptures facing up from the ground.

The Family and/or Activities Stroll

Making the most of Marqueyssac doesn’t require joining on a planned tour or activity, especially for romantic or contemplative strollers, but for a family stroll or simply to punctuate your visit, check out the calendar of activities in advance. If interested in the cliff-stroll above, you should time your visit according. There are also nature workshops, a wood turner, yoga classes, and a playground for sliding and climbing.

You might begin with a guided explanation about the garden before venturing off on your own.

“Curious about nature” arts and crafts workshops, particularly aimed at children, are held spring to fall.

The Chateau Stroll

Though the gardens are the primary interest of Marqueyssac, a visit ends with a brief stroll through the chateau, a late-19th-century residence. A vast restoration of the chateau was completed in 2017. Though called a château, the main residence of the estate appears more as a manor house compared with the massive stone medieval and Renaissance chateaux (Castelnaud, Beynac, Les Milandes, etc.) that can be visited in the region. What’s most impressive about the chateau is its stone-tiled roof. Placed without mortar, the hand-cut limestone slabs (lauzes) have a combined weight of over 500 tons.

Several rooms can be visited inside.

The Candlelit Stroll

Thursday evenings in July and August, Marqueyssac’s Soirées aux Chandelles give the opportunity for visitors to take a candlelit stroll as the day recedes and sunset, twilight then night envelop the Dordogne Valley. The garden paths are lit by 2000 candles and hundreds of other elements of soft lighting, a pianist plays in one corner, there’s a brass quartet in another, perhaps an acoustic guitarist somewhere, and the occasional fairy winging by. The estate is open from 7PM to midnight on those special evenings, but if you don’t plan on spending more than two hours, then arrive at 8/8:30 in order to best experience a leisurely and enchantment stroll through sunset and twilight.

So what’ll it be, daytime or evening, romantic or contemplative or botanical? Will you find yourself more drawn to staring out across the valley or peering down a dimly lit alley? It’s up to you. Marqueyssac offers the opportunity for you to create your own remarkable stroll.

Marqueyssac, 24200 Vezac, Dordogne. See here for seasonal opening times and admission prices and here for the calendar of activities and events. Online reservation is required to attend a Candlelit Evening.

Photos, where indicated, © 2023 by Ava Kabouchy, first published on France Revisited.
Other photos, where indicated, video, and all text © 2023 by Gary Lee Kraut.
Additional photos, where indicated, © Laugery-Les Jardins de Marqueyssac-Dordogne.

The post 8 Remarkable Strolls in the Gardens of Marqueyssac (Dordogne) appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

The most appropriate reference point for situating Saint Leonard de Noblat isn’t a point but a line, that of the major medieval pilgrimage route from Vezelay, in Burgundy, to the relics of Saint James in Compostela, Spain. Follow it on foot, as a pilgrim did/does, proceeding at a steady pace of 14 miles (23 km) per day, and you’ll arrive in Saint Leonard de Noblat after a month or so, with another eight weeks to go before Compostela. With that as your line of reference, here’s the map to situate you.

That line, that pilgrimage along the Way of Saint James (Camino de Santiago), and more specifically the relics of Saint Leonard along the Way, is what earned Saint Leonard de Noblat a significant dot on the map.

My own approach was by car from Aubusson, of tapestry fame, 41 miles (66km) to the east. Courtney Withrow approached from Limoges, 13 miles (21km) to the west. We meet here in this 2-part article, where, in this part, I give an overview of town and its development and where, in the second part, Courtney tells of its 500-year-old paper mill Le Moulin du Got.

Doubly present on the UNESCO World Heritage List

So let’s forget for a moment that Saint Leonard de Noblat is well off the beaten path for most travelers. Instead, we’ll return to a time and a place where it was very much on the path of pilgrims. Thanks to that path, this town of 4500, whose historic center is preserved in its stone simplicity, is doubly present on the UNESCO World Heritage List:

– Tangibly, for its collegiate church that was a part of a dense constellation of medieval structures in France along the Way of Saint James;

– Intangibly, as part of religious processions and ceremonies known as Limousin Septennial Ostensions, organized every seven years to present and worship the relics of saints held in the region. (An ostension is a presentation of relics.) About 20 towns in the region—most within 25 miles of Limoges, along with several outliers—band together during the Ostensions to “translate” or move their local relics from town to town through the septennial year. The next Ostensions will take place in 2023.

Leonard, patron saint of prisoners

Nobiliacum (which morphed into Noblac and Noblat) was the name of the village overlooking the Vienne River that existed here in the Dark Ages before becoming fully associated with Saint Leonard through the veneration of his relics during the Middle Ages. Saint Leonard’s life story was written in 1030, nearly 500 years after his death, so it’s as much legend as biography. As word of it spread so did the appeal of visiting his relics and perhaps benefiting from their healing powers.

As the story goes, Leonard was born into aristocracy in the late 5th century during the time of Clovis, King of the Franks. Like Clovis, he was baptized by Saint Remi in Reims, with Clovis himself as his godfather. Become a pious adult, Leonard was given by Clovis the right to release prisoners that Leonard felt worthy of amnesty, hence his status as the patron saint of prisoners. Effigies of the saint present him holding shackles and/or chains, perhaps also with a fleur de lys to symbolize his royal connection. Leonard eventually chose to live as a hermit in the forest by the crossroads that would become Nobiliacum and that would eventually also bear his own name. Hermits took part in evangelizing a region by setting up shop in the forest near well-traveled roads. Miracles followed.

At the turn of the millennium, word was spreading throughout the region and beyond of the miraculous healing powers of a procession of the relics of Saint Martial of Limoges during an epidemic of ergot poisoning, an epidemic caused by grain infected with certain fungi that would strike the Limousin region. As the biography of Saint Leonard gained ground during the second half of the 11th century, other miracles of relief or cure would then be attributed to a procession of his relics, giving further credence to the power of ostensions. Funding from passing pilgrims and from feudal powers contributed to the creation of many churches through the 11th and 12th centuries along the pilgrimage routes of central and southwest France. The mostly Romanesque collegiate church of Saint Leonard de Noblat was a part of that movement. Today, still, it houses the saint’s relics, particularly his skull.

Massepain, the local pastry

Pilgrimages are intended to provide spiritual strength, but long-distance pilgrims, in addition to having sore feet, often had difficulties being suitably nourished. Two 13th-century entrances to a former pilgrim’s hospital still visible in town attest to the physical suffering of pilgrims.

My own visit to Saint Leonard de Noblat knew no suffering. In fact, while I spent some time visiting the old stones and the old bones of Saint Leonard de Noblat, my first encounter with the history of the pilgrimage to and through town came in the form of a pastry called massepain.

Actually, my first encounter wasn’t with a massepain but with Frédéric Rougerie, a founding member and master of ceremonies of the Confrérie des Compagnons de Massepain de Saint Leonard de Noblat, the order or brotherhood that protects and promotes traditional Saint Leonard massepain. Meeting me in the kitchen at Maison Coignac (22 Avenue du Maréchal Foch), a family-run pastry shop and bakery, one of many shops in town making massepain, he greeted me in full brotherhood regalia: a brown cape, the color of the full almonds that go into the pastry (and of Limousin cows); a neck baldric meeting at a patch of Limousin leather on which is attached, in locally-made Limoges porcelain, a reproduction of a massepain bearing the image of the arms of Saint Leonard; a large broach indicating an affiliation with other Limousin brotherhoods, and a pastry chef’s hat.

Calling massepain a pastry makes it sound fancier than it truly is. It’s simply a soft, dry, rustic biscuit made of three ingredients: almonds, egg whites and sugar. I resist translating massepain as marzipan since that risks calling to mind dense almond paste that’s often molded into animal-shaped confections. Marzipan it may be, but this one is so particular to Saint Leonard that it’s best to call it by its French name. Saint Leonard de Noblat is also known as the City of Massepain.

For pilgrims traveling on a poor diet of water, cabbage leaves and some root vegetables, almond-based biscuits were, says Rougerie, the equivalent of a high-protein sports bars. Almonds grow along the Mediterranean basin, so almonds and almond-based confections were known to southern travelers. However, the traditional recipe of the massepain of Saint Leonard practiced today wasn’t developed until 1899, when the local pastry maker Camille Petitjean learned a similar recipe from a Swiss monk who was passing through on the pilgrimage route. Petitjean sold them in town and in surrounding villages, and massepains soon became a staple of the sweet and rustic life in and around Saint Leonard.

Three ingredients go into the traditional Saint Leonard massepain: almonds (the full almond which is then finely crushed), egg whites (unbeaten) and sugar (caster). Despite its Mediterranean roots, the United States is currently the world’s largest almond producer, so many a Saint Leonard massepain likely contain California almonds. By its ingredients, the massepain is cousin to the Parisian macaroon, but it’s very much a country cousin. The macaroon doesn’t use the full almond fruit, its egg white is beaten, and its sugar is powdered, making it suitable for a highfalutin pilgrimage to Paris but not to Saint Leonard de Noblat.

Pilgrims make up only a tiny part of the clientele for massepain. The bulk is consumed by, well, everyone living in or passing through the region. Massepains can be enjoyed at aperitif-time with, say, a glass of pink champagne if you want to go upmarket with your downmarket pastry, in the afternoon with coffee or tea, even by a teething toddler. You name it, the simple yet versatile massapain can have its place.

Come mealtime, however, the traveler to the region inevitably opts for a hearty sit-down meal that may be inspired by the farmland of Saint Leonard de Noblat and the surrounding Limousin region, where you’ll see Limousin cattle, as well as Limousin lamb and Black Bottom pigs. Chestnuts and Limousin apples are also grown in the region.

Porcelain, Paper and Leather

While Saint Leonard now putters along as a largely off-track town in 21st century France, it maintains its attachment not only to its pilgrimage prosperity during the Middle Ages but also to its substantial period of prosperity as a hub for artisanal activity during the 17th and 18th centuries.

To understand the artisanal prosperity, your reference map would show the rivers running through the region, in particularly the Vienne River, which lent its name to the department or sub-region called Haute-Vienne or Upper Vienne. (Saint Leonard and Limoges are far upstream along the Vienne. Further downstream, the river makes a sharp turn north and eventually flows into the Loire River near Saumur.) The quality of its water and that of its small tributaries at this stage of its course encouraged the development two types of water-dependent manufacturing complexes: tanneries, treating hides for leather goods, and papermills. The Vienne also played a role in the development of the porcelain industry in and around Limoges.

Tanneries: By the 19th century there were about 20 sites for tanning hides in the area. The only one now in operation is Tannerie Bastin & Fils. Bastin is a 200-year-old tanner that opened the functioning Moulin Follet (Follet Mill) site in 1892 and has been owned by J.M. Weston since 1981. Weston, based in Limoges, uses leather made here for shoe soles.

Papermills: There were also some 20 paper producers in the heyday of artisanal paper production in the Saint Leonard area in the 18th century. Again, only one remains, the Moulin du Got, which Courtney Withrow tells about in the second part of this article.

Porcelain: Fine bone china and hard-paste porcelain considered “Limoges” isn’t only made in the city of Limoges or by a single producer but by artisans and industry throughout the region who have access to the proper clay within the production zone.

The region was actually known for centuries for its enamel production prior to gaining an international reputation for its porcelain in the early 18th century. In Saint Leonard, the local star of fine porcelain production is Coquet, producer of the brands J.L Coquet and Jaune de Chrome. (Two years ago the company was caught up in revelations of The Daphne Project with respect to money laundering. Since 2019, Coquet has belonged to the Compagnie Européenne de Luxe et Traditions.) Porcelaine Carpenet, a family-run Limoges producer, is also located in Saint Leonard.

Saint Leonard de Noblat Tourist Office, Place du Champ de Mars, 87400 Saint-Léonard de Noblat. The tourst office website provides a list of hotels and B&Bs in the area. Note: This is not an area for luxury accommodations or haute cuisine.

Haute-Vienne Tourist Information. Saint Leonard and Limoges are within the department of Haute-Vienne. Americans on the Statue of Liberty tour of France (there are about 25 replicas in France, in addition to those in Paris) might head 12 miles southeast to Châteauneuf-la-Forêt, where one stands as the monument to the dead of the First and Second World Wars. Not much else to see once you get there, but a drive though Haute-Vienne countryside nonetheless.

Oradour sur Glane, the “martyred village,” is also located in Haute-Vienne, 28 miles (46km) west of Saint Leonard de Noblat.

© 2020, Gary Lee Kraut

Go to the second part of this 2-part article Saint Leonard de Noblat: 500 Years of Paper Production.

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It’s nearly a shame to read Courtney Withrow’s article below on a screen since it concerns the pleasure of paper: seeing it made, touching it, reading on it and admiring artistic work made with or on it. But it’s a good read nonetheless.

The Moulin du Got is a functioning 500-year-old paper mill near the town of Saint-Léonard-de-Noblat, 12 miles east of Limoges. (See part one of this 2-part series for more about the town.). Built at the end of the 15th century and operational since at least 1522, the mill functioned until 1954, when it was no longer commercially viable. After a nearly 50-year slumber, production was revived in 2003, though no longer with the mass market in mind. Instead, using historical processes, the mill, run by a non-profit association, creates a variety of types of paper from cotton, linen, hemp and other materials, particularly for use in graphic arts.

Open to visitors who can follow these processes from start to finish, the Moulin du Got is a wonderful example of a living historical site as it combines an artisanal papermaking factory, a print shop, an exhibition gallery and hands-on programming for all ages.

By Courtney Withrow

Situated two miles from the center of Saint-Léonard-de-Noblat at the confluence of the Tard and Vienne Rivers, surrounded by rolling fields on one side and unspoiled woods on another, the Moulin du Got’s idyllic location has remained unchanged since the mill was constructed here in the late fifteenth century.

This pastoral landscape accentuates the paper mill’s antiquated charm. Harkening back to a bygone era of artisanal and early industrial papermaking and printing, the mill now manufactures paper by hand as well as with nineteenth-century machinery. While the central mission of the Moulin du Got is historical, it presents living history since this is a fully functional papermill employing a team able to create a beautiful variety of artisanal paper for commercial clients and for visitors to the mill.

For all the slowness that the countryside and the methodical, deliberate process of papermaking represent (it can take hours, even days, for sheets of paper to dry), the Moulin du Got is bustling with life. While the paper-making and printing teams work, other artisans and printers act as tour guides. The Moulin du Got carries on its business even as tourists wander throughout its 500-year-old rooms.

History of the Moulin du Got

Moulin means mill, as in the Moulin Rouge, the Red Mill. And Got is a perversion of gué, meaning ford in French, as in the place where this mill was built. Operational on the Tard River in 1522, the Moulin du Got originally housed nine piles with wooden mallets, which would grind up bits of hemp and linen. Hemp and linen are still the primary papermaking materials used in the mill today, in addition to cotton. Got was one of 24 paper mills around Saint-Léonard-de-Noblat during the 18th-century heydays of paper production in the region.

As the demand for paper increased in the 19th century, the Moulin du Got transitioned from using hemp and linen to straw, a more abundant resource in Limousin. The mill also installed a Hollander beater, which allowed for the production of larger quantities of more refined paper, and a paper machine that mechanized the conversion of pulp into sheets of paper. These enabled the doubling of production. By the 1930s, the Moulin du Got was generating 100 tons of paper per year, but larger, more modern production sites were beginning to surpass it. In the mill’s final chapter before its mid-century closure, it manufactured reinforced cardboard, which was used for toys, masks and dolls. But then the arrival of plastic in the mid-20th century diminished its markets for reinforced cardboard.

The Moulin du Got Today

Despite its agility in the shifting paper industry for 400 years, the Moulin du Got closed in 1954. The building sat vacant until 1997, when a non-profit association was founded with the aim of bringing the paper mill and its traditional methods of paper manufacture back to life. Such associations in France typically seek subsidies from local and regional funds to help them achieve their historical-minded goals. In this case, the town of Saint-Léonard-de-Noblat stepped up to the plate to purchase the property, and through various local, regional and even European funding programs, along with perseverance on the part of the association, the Moulin du Got was rehabilitated. After five years of renovation and a training program for a young cohort of paper crafters and printers, the mill reopened in 2003.

Through the various processes used here, the mill now produces about 1.8 tons of paper each year. Electric motors power the paper mill rather than its original water wheels, however, the wheels have been restored and are used for demonstrations.

The Process of Paper Production

Stepping inside the Moulin du Got one sunny Saturday afternoon, I traded the quiet of the Limousin countryside for a flurry of activity. While visitors browsed through handcrafted items in the boutique adjacent to the welcome area, printers were hard at work in the print shop just beyond the boutique, handling cast-iron contraptions that pinged and clicked like slot machines.

The guided tour begins, however, in the heart of the mill where two enormous granite millstones resembling huge wheels of cheese stand atop a bed of ground-up hemp, linen and cotton. As they rotate, the millstones grind the grey, shredded cloth underneath until it looks like dryer lint.

Past the millstones stand large vats filled with pulp. A Hollander beater chops the pulp with metal blades in order to refine it, producing paper with thin fibers. Once the Hollander beater thins the pulp, the mixture is fed through the paper machine. Equipped with several spinning cylinders, the paper machine draws the pulp from its tub and pushes it across its cylinders, flattening it to make long sheets of paper.

The millstones, the Hollander beater and the paper machine represent only one papermaking process at the Moulin du Got. Pre-industrial, handmade techniques are also used. There, the paper crafter fills a rectangular wooden frame with pulp, presses it, then delicately removes the waterlogged sheet and lays it between two pieces of felt to dry. Liquid pulp, resembling watered-down milk, drips off the wooden frame as the crafter works. All of the pulp filling the two large tubs will be transformed into sheets of solid paper, either by hand or by machine.

Beyond Paper Production

While papermaking itself constitutes the most significant part of the Moulin du Got’s mission, a portion of the drying room serves as an exhibition gallery. This year’s exhibition concerns paper artwork inspired by Japanese culture.

The mill also houses a printing shop. Three typography machines from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries allow the printers to create graphic art, lithographs and engravings. The highlight of the printing shop is the enormous linotype machine, which casts lead fragments into typeset blocks of text for individual use. The huge linotype stands taller than an armoire and sits wider than an armchair. When operated it makes an immense racket. The machine uses hot metal typesetting. It contains a reservoir of molten lead, which it transforms into a block of letters when the typist enters a word on the keyboard. The linotype is sustainable, so when the printers are done with a block of text they can put it back into the reservoir of molten lead, melting it down again for reuse.

Although printing wasn’t an original operation of the Moulin du Got, the traditional printing shop was a logical addition to the historical site. In the shop, the printers set their creativity free, fashioning unique bookmarks, notebooks, postcards and other items to sell in the mill’s boutique. Most of the paper and printing produced is sold on-site, however, the mill also fills special orders for artists, editors and other printers.

Using techniques from different eras, the team at Moulin du Got creates a variety of paper types. The thicker paper made by hand, with its denser fibers, is destined for watercolor painting or engravings. From the paper machine, artisans can produce long, fine sheets or ribbed, “smocked” paper. Most of the paper is stiff, with a slight yet noticeable texture. The thick, handmade paper comes out speckled, the denser pulp making for a grainier appearance.

Special Creations

In the years since its reopening, the Moulin du Got has received accolades for its commitment to historical craftsmanship and pthe reservation of cultural heritage. A schedule of programs that are open to the public at the mill include marionette shows, origami lessons and classes in postcard design and Japanese-style painting. In 2009, the site’s educational, cultural and artistic mission won the Moulin du Got a first-place prize in the national Rubans de Patrimoine competition, which gives financial awards to heritage-minded initiatives throughout France.

This is living heritage since the team continues to experiment with new initiatives and to fulfill specialized requests from clients. They’ll sometimes manufacture paper from unexpected materials such as vegetables or blue jeans. For one of their clients, a winegrower, the team created paper wine bottle labels made from grape stems. Moulin du Got paper has also been used in the design of artisanal lampshades. Visiting artists-in-residence pursue creative projects, such as the author who published his book entirely by hand, page by page, with the help of the mill’s artisans and printers.

The Moulin du Got may be well off the beaten path, but once arrived visitors are drawn into the craftsmanship and physicality of paper, printing and typography, and perhaps to the pleasure of holding and reading a book rather than a screen.

Le Moulin du Got, 87400 Saint-Léonard-du-Noblat. Tel. 05 55 57 18 74.

Photo: From the Moulin du Got boutique. The cover of the purple notepad is an example of “smocked” paper and the bookmark is fashioned from paper made by hand. Photo: Courtney Withrow

© 2020, Courtney Withrow for France Revisited

Courtney Withrow is a freelance writer living in Brussels, Belgium. During her nine-month stay in Limoges as a teaching assistant, she visited several small towns in Haute-Vienne, including Saint-Leonard-de-Noblat. She maintains a travel blog.

Visiting Preserved and Restored Mills Throughout France

Hundreds of preserved and restored mills of all kinds can be visited or viewed by travelers in France. Some have been restored to function in a way related to their original use, as at the Moulin du Got, while others live on as exhibition centers, restaurants or B&Bs. Travelers particularly interested in mills should check out the website of the FFAM, Fédération Française des Associations de sauvegarde des Moulins, the French Federation of Associations for the Preservations of Mills. The FFAM’s website provides links to the websites of non-profit associations throughout the country and a map indicating the location of hundreds of preserved mills, whether preserved for non-profit, for profit or private use. Some may be visited year-round and many more in summer and during school vacations. Special visits are organized at mills throughout France during Mill Days (Journées du Moulins), held over the fourth weekend of June.

– GLK

Return to part one of this 2-part series, Saint Leonard de Noblat: Pilgrims, prisoners, pastries, porcelain, papermill.

The post Saint Leonard de Noblat: 500 Years of Paper Production appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

On Saturday, June 10, 1944, four days after Allied Forces landed on the beaches in Normandy, beginning the liberation of Europe, and while locals went about their business, Nazis from the 2nd Waffen-SS, an armored division, arrived without warning and sealed off the village. Starting in mid-afternoon, residents were rounded up, herded to the market square and separated by gender. Men were corralled into barns and other large spaces and machine-gunned; shots were aimed first at their legs to prohibit escape. Women and children were taken to the church and locked inside. A device was lit that caused suffocating smoke; the church was then barraged with hand grenades and set on fire. Later, the soldiers ransacked the village, set fires and used dynamite to maximize destruction. By eight in the evening, the German soldiers withdrew from the smoking ruins of Oradour-sur-Glane. Only six men and one woman survived the carnage.

After the war, Charles de Gaulle, with consensus from the French government, ordered that the “martyred village,” as it is called, remain shattered and charred as a painful reminder of the brutality of war. Oradour-sur-Glane has been labeled a historical monument since 1946.

A sign directed us to the car park. It was not crowded, and as we walked to the Centre de la Mémoire we looked toward where we had first glimpsed the ruins in a macabre attempt to see more than the tops of walls, but nothing else was visible; visitors must follow a prescribed route in order to experience the village. Along the way to the entrance is a tall column constructed of rough-hewn cubes of stone topped by a statue of a naked woman emerging from flames, her arms flailing upward in anguish. On the column is a line from poet, Paul Eluard: Ici / Des hommes / firent à leur mère / Et à toutes les femmes la plus grave / injure / Ils n’épargnèrent pas les enfants. (Here, men have made their mothers and all women the most serious insult: they did not spare the children.)

The Memory Center of Oradour-sur-Glane comes into view as a series of angled, irregular, rust-colored slabs thrusting up from the earth. The center’s website describes the design for the Memory Center as “non-architecture.” As you walk toward it, the peaceful, verdant surroundings of the Glane Valley disguise its purpose. But upon approach, the blade-like slabs purposefully rupture the scenery and the epithet “village martyr” appears on the entrance.

Visitors descend into the building which is sparse and utilitarian. There is a room off of the main space, a theater for informative films about the site. Upon entering, we were startled by a wall of black-and-white photographs of the 642 men, women and children who were massacred at Oradour-sur-Glane. Each minute or so an enlargement of one of the photographs appeared on a screen and then dissolved into another and then another, while names were spoken in a continuous, somber cadence. The faces and names of babies, children, teens and adults, individuals in every stage of life, forced us to confront human connections to an historic event.

In a room adjoining the wall of photographs, scrapbooks were assembled alphabetically by family with materials and photos painstakingly collected and catalogued to convey the loss of homes, businesses, religious lives, careers, interests, personalities and voices. We turned the pages, looking into the eyes of the school teacher and the doctor, smiling at the faces of children peering over a balcony at a family gathering, recognizing the affection of a family for its dog, and feeling the joy of sweethearts on their wedding day. Through the photographs we pieced together a scene of village life like those we had seen in so many old films. The church, bakery, café, clothing store, other businesses and private homes became backdrops for people smiling and posing and walking by, revealing a vital community where life went on despite the war. Images of intimacy suggested passages that resonate in all societies. These were cherished moments meant to be looked at again and again in albums filled with the chronology of family. Today they were a preface for travelers about to journey through a moment of savagery.

Visitors emerge from the austere, underground Memory Center into natural light and into the present. Passing a sign that declares “Souviens-Toi” and “Remember,” we walked the streets of Oradour-sur-Glane.

Sidewalks and roads and intersections declare that this village was planned and grew over time with commerce and life, but crumbled walls and rubble reveal a community long dead. We had anticipated the desolation and the ruins; we had even envisioned some specific remains from photographs. What we could not foresee, however, was our own emotional response. Rather than being transfixed solely by the material remnants of a village frozen in time since 1944, we felt our senses stunned by the horrific impact of life unexpectedly and instantly extinguished.

Throughout the occupation the Nazis maintained a precarious relationship with the puppet government in Vichy in an effort to control the civilian population. But the destruction of Oradour and its citizens was so barbaric that the German military realized it had to do something to deflect blame and suppress public outrage. Within days, in response to a protest from Vichy, the German military put together a document that accused the villagers of initiating the fight and blamed the deaths of the women and children in the church on an explosion of hidden ammunition kept by the villagers. They also ordered a perfunctory criminal investigation. The massacre was brought up at the Nuremburg trials, and in 1953 it was the sole focus of a military tribunal at Bordeaux. Neither of these investigations resulted in decisive understanding of the event. To this day, no definitive evidence exists as to why the SS attacked the village, but there are theories.

Systematic attacks upon civilians as a way to maintain order in occupied countries was an inherent Nazi strategy. This was regular practice in the Eastern Front, and as the war continued, violence against civilians became more common in France. After the Allies landed at Normandy, efforts by the French Resistance to disrupt German supply lines and communications increased. In response, orders were issued by the German military to crush the resistance without mercy. The resistance was particularly active around Clermont-Ferrand and the department of Corrèze, not far from Oradour-sur-Glane. Tactics of the resistance included attacks on troops and kidnapping. On June 9th, the day before the Oradour massacre, ninety-nine men were hanged in Tulle, capital of Corrèze, as punishment for partisan harassment of the Nazi 2nd SS division as it made its way north toward Normandy. It was this same division that annihilated Oradour-sur-Glane the following day.

An audio tour can be rented at the Memory Center, but we chose to walk the streets of Oradour on our own and construct a narrative from the simple plaques that identify businesses and their proprietors and homes and their residents. Each step reveals objects that support life; the remnants of tables, bed frames, bicycles and cars are wedged within the rubble of collapsed buildings. Buckets and rusted sewing machines sit in extant frames of windows or niches. Irregular, partially standing walls give testament to the bombardment of the village by the Nazis following the murders. Places that enrich and nurture a citizenry are ravaged. The roofless offices of the doctor and dentist, the wine shop, a girl’s school, an iron forge and the boulangerie are fragments of dirt and stone. The outline of a café has a single outdoor table; the automobile repair garage still has the frame of a door large enough for a truck, but no walls or roof to enclose it. Each vestige of life rests useless amid the disarray of charred stone and wreckage. Weeds push up beneath the rust and rubble of seventy years. Flowers bloom through as well. As we roamed the streets with other visitors, the uniformity of silence was remarkable. This is not a place for conversation or expletive even though each step leads to palpable savagery.

The main street meanders through the town past the market place, barns, fields, residences. It opens to side streets but eventually everyone takes a road that leads to the church. If a visitor expects solace, some divine absolution from this site, it does not come. A rusted baby carriage in the barren, roofless nave of the church is a reminder that the youngest victim murdered and burned was eight days old. The symmetry of the marble altar could be lovely as a relic aging naturally over time. Instead, the image of Christ that adorns it, rendered faceless by bombardment, and the empty rectangle of its tabernacle are reminders of congregants whose desperation and wails filled this cavernous room on June 10, 1944. Perhaps there are prayers uttered by visitors but they too are silent. Silence punctuates Oradour-sur-Glane.

A great deal of material exists about the destruction of Oradour-sur-Glane. Research has examined assertions that the village was a storehouse of armaments and that it harbored resistance fighters; information reveals that a number of Jews were among the dead. After the war a few Nazi soldiers were investigated for their part in the massacre, but only one was held accountable. As recently as 2013 Germany started a new investigation to locate soldiers who might have been involved. That same year German President Joachim Gauck stood with French President François Hollande to acknowledge the atrocity.

Photos, documents and maps can be accessed with ease, and the question “why” goes unanswered. But the significance of Oradour-sur-Glane is found in its very existence and in the power of its empty streets to elicit profound questions about humanity. As objects eventually rust beyond recognition, and rubble is eroded by nature, the village will survive the decay and abide the silence of visitors. And in its admonishment—“Souviens-toi,” “Remember”—Oradour-sur-Glane will continue to remind us to remember and to be vigilant.

Text by Elizabeth Esris
Photos by Michael Esris

For practical information about Oradour and surroundings
The Memory Center at Oradour-sur-Glane, L’Auze, 87520 Oradour-sur-Glane. Tel. 05 55 43 34 30.
Situating Oradour: Oradour is located 14 miles northwest of Limoges in the department of Haute-Vienne, one of three departments in the historic region of Limousin, itself now a part of the vast region of New Aquitaine.

The post The Silence of Oradour-sur-Glane appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

This illustrated article examines the Rochefort maritime arsenal, the Naval Medicine Museum, the Rope Factory, Two Young Girls, The Hermione, the Raft of the Medusa and Pierre Loti. Other aspects of Rochefort are presented in Without Rochefort There Would Be No Begonias and Sylvie Deschamps, France’s Master Artist of Gold Embroidery.

* * *

As the crow flies, the town of Rochefort is situated 5 miles inland from the Atlantic. But you’re unlikely to find a crow taking the direct route. Even the gulls follow the twists of the Charente River 15 miles to Rochefort.

The foreign visitor, however, is more likely to arrive via a 35-minute drive, either south from the attractive old port town of La Rochelle or northwest from the impressive Roman and Romanesque remnants at Saintes. Beyond Saintes, Cognac and Angouleme lie further upstream along the Charente River.

Walking alongside the stern facades on Rochefort’s grid-plan streets, one might well think of Rochefort as a quiet town that has always looked inward. But Rochefort was created as an outward-looking town of national importance, with international ambitions.

The creation of Rochefort

In 1666 the dynamic duo of France’s golden century, Louis XIV and his right-hand minister Colbert, aware of the need for France to beef up its maritime might as European powers bordering the Atlantic coast developed trade with and possessions in the New World, ordered the creation of a naval shipyard or arsenal at Rochefort.

Until then, France’s place as a European powerhouse typically meant deploying its force on land; its navy was a small affair. But with 17th-century globalization the English, the Spanish, the Portuguese and the Dutch rivaled for power on the high seas, and France risked missing the boat. Furthermore, while France’s Atlantic commercial ports of Nantes, La Rochelle and Bordeaux flourished, they were susceptible to enemy attacks and piracy.

So in a riverside zone, surrounded by marshland, close to the major commercial ports, within easy reach of the woodland and forests whose timbers were necessary for building a fleet, and defendable due to its position upriver, the Rochefort naval arsenal was launched.

A tremendous maritime enterprise was born, bringing together all of the various trades associated with such an enterprise. As it grew, a town of 14 east-west streets and 10 north-south streets was laid out.

Over time, Rochefort’s fortunes as a naval arsenal ebbed and flowed. It would be overtaken in importance by Brest, in the far reaches of Brittany, and later by Toulon, in the Mediterranean. Nevertheless, for 250 years Rochefort maintained a role in French maritime history.

The School of Naval Medicine

In 1722 the world’s first School of Naval Medicine opened in Rochefort. For the next 240 years it trained surgeons for the job of caring for sailors, and those surgeons became a part of the scientific team as the French navy around the world. The building where the school was installed in 1788 now houses the Naval Medicine Museum.

In 1778, Rochefort launched the construction of a 213-foot frigate called the Hermione. It was on that ship that, in March 1780 the Marquis de Lafayette embarked on a transatlantic crossing to deliver news to General Washington of France’s military support in the colonists’ fight against the mutual enemy, the English.

Rochefort was an important naval arsenal during that period. Some of the manpower came from forced labor as a penitentiary for criminals with lengthy sentences had been created here for just that purpose. (A more notorious forced-labor penitentiary was that of the maritime arsenal of Toulon, where the fictional Jean Valjean, the hero of Victor Hugo’s “Les Misérables” was held prisoner). The force-labor penitentiary or bagne of Rochefort functioned from 1766 to 1852. Living and working under harsh conditions, not only did the convicts provide labor for the navy, they also provided, upon precocious death, cadavers for the naval medical school.

The 19th century saw the development of the study known as phrenology which gave credence to the notion that the shape and size of the cranium reveals character, mental abnormality and the supposed inferiority of certain groups. The craniums of deceased criminals were studied here in an attempt to discern which cranial proportions signaled a propensity to one type of violent crime over another, e.g. distinguishing the physical traits of a murderer from that of a rapist.

Some of those “criminal” skulls can be seen at the Museum of the Naval Medical School among other displays of mid-19th-century medical know-how. Visits on the theme of phrenology and the penitentiary are occasionally held at the museum. Inquire at the Rochefort Tourist Office or directly at the museum.

The phrenology display is just a small part of the overall exhibit to the museum which presents a wide variety of displays relative to the concerns and methods of 19th-century maritime medicine and surgery. The building also houses an extensive historic library on the subject.

End of an era

As warships evolved in the latter decades of the 19th century it became increasingly difficult to justify maintaining a shipyard on a relatively shallow river. The death knoll for Rochefort as a shipbuilding town had been signaled several times over the centuries, and finally in 1919 the last warship to be constructed at Rochefort, its 550th, slid into the water. The arsenal closed eight years later. The port was partially dynamited by the German occupying force in 1944 with the approach of defeat. It was subsequently all but abandoned by the French navy.

The Young Girls of Rochefort

By the mid-1960s there was little life left in the old naval arsenal to identify Rochefort with its maritime past. The arsenal wasn’t dormant, it was in full decay. A town whose history had always led it to look outward could now barely face its own waterfront.

Then in 1966 a film crew came to Rochefort, awakening the town from its post-war slumber with bright colors, cheery music, movie stars and a whiff of flower power. Called The Young Girls of Rochefort (Les Demoiselles de Rochefort), the musical tells of two artsy young women who dream of love and life beyond Rochefort. Starring Catherine Deneuve and Françoise Dorléac (twins in the film, non-twin sisters in real life) and Gene Kelly, it was written and directed by Jacques Demy, with music by Michel Legrand. Hitting the big screen in 1967, the movie became such a cultural icon in France and remained so for so long that for several decades a foreigner hearing about The Young Girls of Rochefort when visiting France would have assumed that the town had no greater claim to a page in the history of France than being the backdrop of the colorful musical.

You can see from the trailer below how the movie would become an inspiration for La La Land (2016).

The Rope Factory and the Knot Tyers of Rochefort

Two Young Girls gave Rochefort a new taste of civic pride, but it was going to take much more than splashes of colors on the central square, some whitewashed walls and a few curious movie fans to face up to having an abandoned naval arsenal in the front yard.

Projects finally came to fruition in the 1980s. The Begonia Conservatory, though not in the arsenal zone, renewed Rochefort’s history of botanical exploration that accompanied its naval expeditions. After all, without Rochefort there would be no begonias.

More visibly, restoration of the Royal Rope Factory, the Corderie Royale, was undertaken. At 1227 feet long, long enough to twist hemp into 650-foot cables of rope, the corderie had been the first major royal construction project of the arsenal in 1666 and was to become the first project to draw attention back to the shipyard zone. Both tourism, in the form of presentations and exhibitions related to rope-making, and offices, with the presence of the International Sea Center, have found their place here, as well as an outstanding maritime bookshop. There’s a daytime restaurant, Les Longitudes, right nearby.

Visitors to the rope factory can learn through displays and demonstrations how string made from hemp was twisted into thick rope for the sailing ships of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries.

Sylvie Deschamps, France’s master artist of gold embroidery, may have the nimblest fingers in Rochefort, but knot tyers (mateloteurs in French) at the Corderie Royale are quite skilled at turning, twisting, braiding and knotting as they create traditional and contemporary rope pieces, both utilitarian and decorative.

The French branch of the International Guild of Knot Tyers, an organization created in the U.K. in 1982, is headquartered here.

The Hermione

Promoting a historic ropeworks can do only so much to bring townspeople and visitors from elsewhere to a former naval arsenal. What was missing was something that would instill civic pride and truly draw attention to the town: an actual ship.

Like neighborhood kids getting together to decide they wanted to put on a play, some elected officials and historical-minded folk came up with the crazy idea of actually building a warship at the old arsenal. It would need to be an evocative ship, one that called to mind the successes of the French navy, the role of France in the world and a historical figure who was famous and ambiguous enough that he hadn’t fully been claimed by either the right wing or the left. A tall order.

One ship identified with one man fit the bill: the Hermione, the frigate built at Rochefort, which took Lafayette to meet with Washington in 1780. It had been a journey that signaled France’s full involvement in the American cause, or more precisely in the hurt-the-British-wherever-you-can cause.

Turning a fantasy project into a reality took time. The municipally-backed non-profit Hermione – La Fayette Association was created in 1992 and construction finally began on July 4, 1997. While the original frigate took six months to construct, it took 17 years and a budget 25 million euros to building a full-scale replica of the 65-meter (213-feet) long frigate. The project required the wood of 2000 oak trees, 1 ton of hemp for caulking, 1000 pulleys, nearly 15 miles of rope for riggings, and eventually 32 canons, altogether requiring the creation of numerous workshops along the dock.

The region, department (sub-region) and town provided 4.8 million euros each for the budget and the European Union provided 1.5 million, while over 9 million came from members of the association, donations, sponsors/partners and visitors who came to see the construction site. Visitors could speak with the various artisans involved and learn about the various techniques and trades involved in building the replica.

Interest from the general public arrived slowly at first, but once the hull took form public interest rose with the ship. By the time the Hermione was completed in 2014 4.1 visitors had visited the dockyard to see the ship under construction.

A crew of 80 was formed, and in 2015 the Hermione took the ocean for a 17-day transatlantic crossing. She made calls along the U.S. eastern seaboard at Yorktown, Mount Vernon, Alexandria, Annapolis, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Greenport, Newport, Boston and Castine, then Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, before returning home via Brest and Ile d’Aix.

The crossing itself required a budget of about 5.4 million euros, with 3.15 million coming from American sponsors, partners and other sources.

The voyage was driven by the ship’s sails 95% of the time. A motor built into the replica was used as necessary, particularly to more securely navigate the entrance and exit to ports. Also breaking with tradition, about one-third of the crew members were women.

While the rope factory continues to please and inform visitors of all ages, the Hermione has become the face of the shipyard.

Dockside, visitors can see exhibitions about the ship and watch more or less active workshops regarding the sails, riggings, iron work and historical costumes. One can then step on board without a guide, but tours, given by crew members, are the more interesting way to go, especially if you’d like to know hear about sailing the high seas and ask questions about navigation and life onboard. Among those who made the crossing was Geoffrey Laulan, who started as a volunteer and has become one of the Hermione’s professional crew members.

Only one of the canons is an authentic 18th-century canon. The others are reproductions, unusable with cannonballs but suitable for fireworks displays.

In addition to regular visits, the Hermione also host’s special events, such as dinner events and concerts.

With Rochefort as its home port, the Hermione will set out from February to June 2018 for a voyage down the Atlantic coast and into the Mediterranean. It will call at La Rochelle, Tanger, Barcelona, Sète, Toulon, Marseille, Port Vendres, Portimao and Bordeaux, before returning home to Rochefort on June 16.

No frigate worth its salt would be complete with a ship’s cat.

The Raft of the Medusa

Less photogenic but claiming high historical honors in its own right is the replica of another French frigate called the Méduse (Medusa). Not the ship itself, actually, but the raft that was created from the ship’s masts and yards when the Medusa ran aground on a sandbank 50 miles off the coast of Mauritania while on its way to Senegal in 1816.

The outline of the true story of the raft of the Medusa is well known in France. It’s known through history books as well as art books, and especially through The Raft of the Medusa (Le Radeau de la Méduse) a large painting by Théodore Géricault (1791-1824), created while the news was still fresh. Today the painting is likely seen but ignored by most of the millions of visitors who come each year to the Louvre since it hangs in the gallery of monumental French paintings behind that of the Mona Lisa.

The Medusa was not built in Rochefort, rather at a shipyard in the estuary of the Loire River, just upstream from the modern-day shipyard of Saint Nazaire. But it was from Rochefort that the Medusa set out in 1816 on a mission to take control of Senegal, which the Treaty of Vienna had awarded to France. It was captained—poorly, cowardly and fatally—by an aristocrat who hadn’t commanded a ship in 25 years.

After a succession of navigational errors the frigate ran aground on a sandbar 50 miles from the coast. In order to lighten the ship, the captain commanded that a tremendous raft be made from the Medusa’s masts and yards. But as the ship began to list the captain ordered for the ship to be abandoned. There was a shortage of lifeboats and those were reserved mostly for officers, including the captain. The 151 soldiers and others are ordered onto the make-shift raft with little food and only five barrels of wine as nourishment. The raft, measuring 20 meters by 12 meters (66 feet by 39 feet) was so heavy with passengers that they stood in three feet of water.

If there was ever the intent to have the lifeboats tug the raft, the plan was quickly cut short. The raft was soon detached and went adrift, as the lifeboats made it to shore. Within two days, life aboard the raft was a hell of thigh-high water, extreme heat, delirium, fighting, rebellion and murder, soon followed by suicide and cannibalism as well. When finally spotted 13 days later by a passing ship, only 15 passengers remained. Of those, only seven survived to tell the tale.

The event shook France in 1816 both for the horror of the true tale and for the political scandal of the appointment of an incompetent aristocrat at the ship’s helm. The following year the captain was sentenced to three years in prison, a far cry from the penalty of death that many called for. That year Théodore Géricault began his own painterly investigations that would eventually give rise to his most famous painting. He actually spoke with and sketched some of the survivors in preparing the work.

Géricault’s 7m x 5m (23ft x 16ft) painting, which the Louvre refers to as “the star of the Salon of 1819,” depicts the imagined moment when a ship, potential rescue, is barely perceptible as a dot on the horizon. In that moment, as some die or agonize, the viewers sees an array of reactions and emotions relative to the tragedy and the possibility of rescue, from fatality and despair, it the view sees the human expression of fate of us all, from death to despair to optimism and hope.

In 2014, during the making of a documentary about the history of the Medusa and of Géricault’s painting, a full-scale replica of the raft was created and briefly set afloat. The replica can now be seen in the courtyard of the National Naval Museum at the Rochefort arsenal. On first view, it appears to be a jumbled array of posts and beams, as though something at the museum were under construction. The fuller view is upstairs.

The museum, which occupies the former residence of the Commanders of the Navy at the arsenal, is otherwise dedicated to more glorious moments in Rochefort’s naval history, with many scale models of warships and presentation of technical aspects of the shipyard. A current exhibition, running until November 6, 2018, presents naval uniforms.

Pierre Loti

The facades at 139 and 141 rue Pierre Loti appear as inexpressive as any in old Rochefort. But behind them lie the effusive and theatrical décor of the home of Pierri Loti (1850-1923), Rochefort’s most famous son.

Born Julien Viaud, Pierre Loti was his nom de plume. It might also be considered his stage name. Since childhood he had been interested in theatrics, adventure and exoticism. As Viaud he entered into a long career in the navy, while as Loti he also became an illustrator, a novelist, a travel journalist, a photographer, a collector (hoarder may be a better term for what he amassed) and a socialite. Throughout it all he was a traveler: Algeria, Turkey, Tahiti, Senegal, Japan, China, Morocco, Syria, Palestine, India, Egypt and more.

Loti liked to have himself photographed in the costumes of the places he visited, as in the two examples shown here. Nowadays, someone like Loti might become a master of the selfie and a million-hit travel blogger with his own travel show during which we’d occasionally see him hobnobbing with the titled and the famous from around the world. Loti himself was not famous merely for being famous, as would be the case today’s social networker. His fame came from the success of his writing, hence his election to the Académie Française. Though his novels have been largely forgotten, written in a bygone style, there is a brilliant level of detail and discovery in them.

He grew up on the street that now bears his assumed name, in the house that he would eventually purchase from his mother and transform in his own image. He later purchased the adjacent house. Each room was decorated to be reminiscent of a different time or place: the Chinese room, the Gothic room, the Japanese Pagoda, the Mosque, the Renaissance room, etc. He wrote little about Rochefort itself, but his work is rich with the outward-looking gaze that growing up in a port town in the mid-19th century might evoke: the desire to encounter distant lands and distant peoples, and the need to bring home pieces of foreign cultures.

Unfortunately for current visitors to Rochefort, Loti’s house, a historical monument belonging to the town, is closed to the public. Shuttered since 2012 because it requires thorough restoration and structural work and the hefty financing (about 12 million euros) to do so, the house won’t reopen before 2020.

In the meantime, the town’s Hèbre de Saint-Clément Museum provides an excellent introduction to the colorful character that was Loti and to his unusual home.

The Hèbre de Saint-Clément Museum

Nothing is more off-putting to a foreign visitor than a museum with a forgettable, multi-syllabic name, in this case that of the aristocrat who once owned the property. So ignore the name, but don’t forget that you’re in Rochefort because while this eclectic public museum might appear to be a handsome repository of random-abelia, its diverse parts offer a vision of the town’s history of seafaring, expeditions, colonialization and an interest in distant lands.

There’s a nod to The Young Girls of Rochefort, of course, but more importantly a thorough glimpse of Pierre Loti and a virtual visit to his house. The museum also presents a small beaux-arts collection, a display of objects handed down over the generations from a seafaring ancestor, and contemporary works from Oceania. The latter reminds visitors that there is more to Aboriginal art than the curiosity of colonizers but that vibrant arts and culture remain in areas that are far-flung from our point of view.

Restaurants, hotels, tourist information

For further tourist information about Rochefort and nearby sights along the Atlantic coast see the site of the Rochefort Ocean Tourist Office, Avenue Marie-François Sadi Carnot, 17300 Rochefort. Tel. 05 46 99 08 60.

Information about the wider area which includes Rochefort, Saintes and La Rochelle can be found on the site of the Charente-Maritime Tourist Board.

For an easy-going lunch or tea-time stop while at the arsenal, Les Longitudes, next to the Royal Rope Factory / Corderie Royale is open daily April to mid-November and during the Christmas-New Year holiday period. Otherwise closed weekends as well as early January to mid-February. Tel. 05 46 87 56 15.

In town, Patrick Bonnaud prepares finer cuisine at Les Quatres Saisons, 76 rue Grimaux, 17300 Rochefort. Tel. 05 46 83 95 12. Open Tuesday-Saturday.

A 20-minute drive from Rochefort by a little lake in the village of Trizay, Les Jardins du Lac is an attractive and friendly choice for seasonal gastronomy, prepared by Yohann Suire. 3 chemins Fontchaude, 17250 Trizay. Tel. 05 46 82 03 56. Open Tuesday-Saturday lunch and dinner and Sunday lunch. The restaurant is part of the Suire family’s quiet 3-star hotel of the same name.  The hotel also has a heated swimming pool.

Back in heart of Rochefort there’s the 3-star Hotel Roca Fortis, 14 rue de la République, 17300 Rochefort. Tel. 05 46 99 26 32.

While some drive from Rochefort to La Rochelle and others to Saintes and points beyond, then this writer the train to Cognac. But that’s a whole other story.

© 2017, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Rochefort: Ships, Shipyards and Seafarers appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

“I loved its coldness and its glitter,” she says showing the fine gold-varnished coil that she’ll cut in pieces to embroider like pearls onto fabric. “When I held it in my hands I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t find this vocation; this vocation found me.”

That vocation is gold embroidery. Thirty years later, Deschamps is France’s premier master of the craft—and the art. She holds the prestigious title Maître d’Art (Master Artist), which is awarded sparsely by the Ministry of Culture in recognition of those with unparalleled known-how of an uncommon craft and who practice it to an exceptional degree of excellence.

Since receiving the title in 2010, numerous haute couture and luxury good houses have come knocking at the door of Le Bégonia d’Or, the small workshop she oversees in Rochefort (Charente-Maritime).

When this visitor came knocking she immediately put away her high-tech magnifying eyewear and hid from sight the prototypes that she and her fellow gold embroiderer Marlène Rouhard were developing for luxury watchmaker Piaget. Exclusivity breeds confidentiality. Yet beyond such contractual obligations, Deschamps and Rouhard are welcoming, personable and quick to share their passion for their work.

Rochefort, a town of 25,000 in Charente-Maritime best known for its historic naval dockyard founded in 1666 and the 1967 musical comedy “The Young Girls of Rochefort,” would seem more apt to teach the twisting of hemp into rope to hoist sails then in delicate embroidery with cannetille or gold thread. But in this town once brimming with military uniforms bearing stripes and braids, fine embroidery was part of the fabric of the military economy. Restoration work then became a (small) part of the post-military economy.

Development of a Master Artist

Rochefort’s Lycée d’Enseignement Professionnel Jamain is France’s only vocational high school offering a diploma in gold thread embroidery. Both Deschamps, 45, and Rouhard, 33, studied there.

Diploma in hand in 1989, Deschamps immediately found work at Etablissements Bouvard et Duviard in Lyon, a workshop specialized in the restoration of religious vestments and other antique fabrics. Her time there deepened her understanding of embroidery’s technical and artistic aspects from as early as the 14th century. When her mentor there retired, Deschamps, still in her early twenties, became the “first hand” of the workshop, managing national and international orders and doing design work as well.

In 1995, after 6 years in Lyon, Deschamps returned to Rochefort for family reasons and entered a program to become an assistant professor at the vocational school where she’d once studied. But just two weeks in—and shortly after the creation of the gold embroidery workshop Le Bégonia d’Or by Marie-Hélène César with support from the town of Rochefort—the workshop’s first director left, and Deschamps was in the right place at the right time, with the right skills and experience, to assume the position. The craft that had found her at age 15 now found her at the head of a small workshop at age 24.

Le Bégonia d’Or

Le Bégonia d’Or (The Gold Begonia) has gold in its name because gold represents the pinnacle of the craft that has long had its place in Rochefort. As to begonia, it, too, is intimately related to Rochefort’s maritime history. An expedition to the Caribbean in 1688 under the patronage of Michel Bégon, intendant of the navy at Rochefort, gave birth to the classification of plants previously unknown to Europeans. One of them would be named begonia, after the expedition’s sponsor. (See this article about the Begonia Conservatory in Rochefort and this article about sights and people relative to Rochefort’s maritime history.)

Le Bégonia d’Or is a non-profit association that operates like a small business. In addition to original and restoration work, it holds workshops and sells embroidery kits and retail supplies. The workshop purchases their precious threads and cannetille from Carlhian, a company in Lyon created in 1870 to serve the silk trade. The company, known for its gold and silver thread, braids and trimmings, is the only producer in France of this range of gold products. Le Bégonia d’Or, in addition to using them in its own work, is the only retailer in France of Carlhian’s products.

Sylvie Deschamps demonstrate embroidery with gold cannetille in this France Revisited Minute.

Knocking at the master’s door

It its early days, Le Bégonia d’Or was primarily called upon to restore the embroidery on military garments. There was also work restoring religious vestments (though Lyon is especially known for that type of work) and heraldic banners. Then as the reputation of the workshop and of Deschamps’ expertise grew so did the diversity of work requested of Le Bégonia d’Or.

A major turning point, both personally for Deschamps and for Le Bégonia d’Or (the reputation of the two is intimately intertwined), came in 2010 when Deschamps received the title Maître d’Art by then-Minister of Culture Frédéric Mitterand. The title is akin to the National Living Treasures of Japan regarding craftsmanship. Since its creation in 1994, only 132 men and women in France have earned the title of Maître d’Art, which one holds for life.

“It’s the reward of a long career,” says Deschamps. “I needed to show that I was capable of restorations, of contemporary creation and of performing techniques of great difficulty.”

The workshop now counts major brands in haute couture and luxury ready-to-wear among its clients: Chanel, Dior, Versace, Valentino, Ferraud, Saint Laurent, and others. Deschamps has also performed detail work on bags for Louis Vuitton, necklaces for Cartier and watches for Piaget.

“It’s thanks to the title that luxury houses came knocking at my door,” says Deschamps. “I would never have seen them otherwise.” The title not only brought these high-end clients but in some cases also created the need for gold embroidery. “We became a think tank for new ideas where a luxury house would say, ‘I need a Master Artist for this project and here’s a gold embroidery Master Artist, so how about integrating some gold thread embroidery into a watch or into a necklace.’ What I love is taking on the challenges that others aren’t able to take.”

She gives as an example a Philippe Starck project that involved her placing gold embroidery on the thick leather for a couch for the Cristal Room in Moscow.

She then goes into a back room of the workshop to bring out an exquisite fragrance bottle. In 2013, for the 160th anniversary of the creation of Guerlain’s emblematic Bee Bottle, originally designed for Empress Eugenia, the fragrance house gave carte blanche to nine Maitres d’Art to create work inspired by the bottle. While the eight others created one-of-a-kind displays for the bottle, Deschamps dared to decorate the bottle itself, wrapping it as though with a transparent imperial cape embroidered with golden bees. (At the time of this interview Deschamps was briefly in possession of the exquisite bottle as it is in transit between an exhibition and its owner who purchased it from Guerlain.)

The master and her student

“Having the title opens doors,” she says. “It gives access to fabulous places where art has its rightful place. It gives real visibility and prestigious orders.”

It also carries with it the obligation of taking on a student to whom the title-holder transmits her know-how, her savoir-faire.

Deschamps didn’t have to look far for her student. Marlène Bouhaud was already here, working alongside and being mentored by Deschamps at the Bégonia d’Or for five years before Deschamps received the title Maître d’Art. Recognizing each other as master and student was simply a formality, one that also placed Bouhaud in a class of her own among the gold embroiders in France.

Bouhaud was already familiar with sewing and embroidery from an early age through family heritage, but it was an encounter with Sylvie Deschamps at the age of 15 that gave her a glimpse of the beauty that could be created with gold and silver embroidery. Like Dechamps at that age, Bouhaud also felt drawn to the feel and shine of gold cannetille.

While still a teenager she showed Deschamps some of her embroidery work. Says Deschamps, “When I saw that I said to myself ‘Wow!’ What she’d done was already perfectly executed, with a regularity in the embroidery that already pleased me. Later on, when she completed a training workshop [at the Begonia d’Or], I saw that she had rare qualities: she was an excellent technician and she was passionate.”

Deschamps welcomed her in as a salaried employee in 2005.

There is additionally a third set of hands working at Le Bégonia d’Or, those of Thierry Tarrade. He embroiders as well, though not at the level of Deschamps and Marlène, and is largely involved with organizing training workshops and conducting initiation and intermediate workshops (levels 1 and 2). He also happens to be Deschamps’ companion in life. They first met 30 years ago, at the same time that she encountered the gold cannetille.

Deschamps hesitates when asked if she would be willing to take on another student to the extent that she has with Rouhaud.

“I don’t know. It happened so naturally with Marlène because she’s passionate about the work. It would have to be the rare pearl with both the technical aptitude and the passion,” she says. “Every ten years there might be someone about whom I’d say ‘Oh, she’s got something that the others don’t have.’ Still, even with the rare pearl I don’t feel that I’d have the time.”

The Future of the Bégonia d’Or

To hear Deschamps and Rouhaud speak about the intricacies of their work and the number of hours required for each piece, it’s a wonder that there are enough hours in the day to accomplish all they do. Meanwhile, they continually develop new projects. Le Bégonia d’Or is now a trademark for jewelry and other works. Their pride themselves on a production that is 100% French: leather from Paris, buttons from Jura, gold thread from Lyon, design, embroidery, creation at the Le Bégonia d’Or.

“We aren’t functionaries of embroidery, that’s for sure,” says Deschamps. “But it’s true, we both lack time for research, sampling and creating unique pieces.”

Deschamps workshop remains a small structure, and despite its sizable reputation there’s competition in this rarefied domain in France. Students graduating from Rochefort’s vocational school program with a diploma in gold embroidery, perhaps a dozen per year, may find work in the luxury and restoration fields.

“What will save the workshop in the future is its ability to respond to orders that others aren’t able to treat because they don’t have technical expertise or the innovative techniques to do so. Because that requires veritable sacrifice. Yet it’s the work we love to do, Marlène and I. We like to be pushed to the extreme of what is most difficult. The challenges change and we have to be able to meet those challenges. And that’s great!”

Rouhaud, now 33, is a trusted student and co-worker. “She’ll eventually be able to take over if she wants,” says Deschamps.

Asked if she dreams of being one day named Master Artist in her own right, Rouhaud says that it’s too early to think about. She says that she still has much to learn technically from Deschamps and that she must especially develop her creativity with respect to embroidery. Furthermore, in order to become a Master Artists in the same field she would have to be capable of proving that she brings something to the art that her current master doesn’t have. A high bar indeed!

Where does a Master Artist go from here?

“I was never avid about entering competitions,” says Deschamps, “but I’d like to enter another competition through the Bettencourt Schueller Foundation called Intelligence de la Main [Intelligence of the Hand].” The Liliane Bettencourt Prize rewards savoir-faire, creativity and innovation in the field of creative craftwork based on a specific work and is open to French and foreign craftsmen living in France. “Now I have to find the idea and the time.”

Asked if she can imagine practicing her moveable skills elsewhere than in Rochefort, Deschamps says that for now she’s happy to be here and to develop the workshop. “I believe deeply in the potential of this town,” she says. “This town has some beautiful tools and needs only play its cards right to become better known.”

Rochefort’s historical reputation has long been as a place that one left to sail elsewhere. Even the movie “The Young Girls of Rochefort” takes as its premise that the girls in question want to leave town. Now, though, thanks to the construction of the replica of the 18th-century frigate the Hermione which calls this its home port; thanks to showcases of its maritime history at The Royal Ropeworks and the Maritime Museum; thanks to the presence of Europe’s most important begonia collection, and thanks to the growing reputation of Le Bégonia d’Or and its Master of Art, the pleasant town of Rochefort has become a destination in its own right.

Le Bégonia d’Or
Bureau 11
10 rue du Dr Peletier
17300 Rochefort
Tel. 05 46 87 59 36
www.broderieor.com
The workshop may be visited by appointment only, Monday-Friday.

Also see Rochefort: Ships, Shipyards and Seafarers and Without Rochefort There Would Be No Begonias.

© 2017, Gary Lee Kraut.

An earlier version of this article appeared in The Connexion.

The post Sylvie Deschamps, France’s Master Artist of Gold Embroidery appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Well, the plant, a genus comprised of more than 1500 species, would exist; it would just be called something else. And if it weren’t known as the begonia then it might not be to Rochefort that you’d come looking for the Begonia Conservatory, Europe’s most important collection of the genus.

Admittedly, only a died-in-the-wool, rain-or-shine garden-lover or botanical brainiac would actually come to Rochefort solely for the begonias. But there you have it, begonias in Rochefort—and with good reason, too.

Allow me to explain.

Rochefort’s begonia connection

In 1666 the dynamic duo of France’s golden century, Louis XIV and his right-hand minister Colbert, seeing the need for France to become a maritime power as the European powers developed trade with and possessions in the New World, launched the creation of a naval dockyard at Rochefort. (See this article for more about sights and people related to Rochefort’s maritime history.)

One of the administrators overseeing the development of the town and dockyard was Michel Bégon, Rochefort’s intendant from 1688 to 1710. Numerous expeditions to the New World, in particular the Caribbean, would set out from Rochefort during those years. Having spent several years on the islands himself earlier in his career, Bégon had a keen interest in scientific discoveries made during expeditions there.

Among the scientists on several expeditions setting out from Rochefort and sponsored by Bégon was the botanist-monk Charles Plumier. Plumier not only recorded details about a number of plants previously unknown to Europeans, he was also the first person to make botanical dedications, by which a plant would be named in someone’s honor. Among the best known of the plants that Plumier named are the fuchsia, named for the German botanist Leonhard von Fuchs, the magnolia, named for French botanist Pierre Magnol, and, you guessed it, the begonia named for Michel Bégon.

Bégon probably never actually saw a real begonia himself, unless he accidentally stepped on one during his years in the Caribbean. Plumier brought back drawings rather than actual plants due to the difficulty of transporting them alive. In fact, the first begonias didn’t arrive in Europe until nearly a full century later, when in 1777 some were brought to the Royal Botanical Garden at Kew, starting a British love affair with the begonia long before the French. Plumier’s own name is largely forgotten, though he was eventually honored with the genus plumeria, the Central and South American native more commonly called the frangipani.

The Begonia Conservatory

Rochefort’s world-class collection began with the gift of an amateur begonia collector, Vincent Millerioux, to the town in 1986. At the time, the town was creating a horticultural zone on its edge covering 100 acres, which would be leased in parcels to horticultural businesses. Greenhouses of the Begonia Conservatory came to anchor the site.

When the town sought someone to organize and then oversee the conservatory, Patrick Rose, who had previously worked with Millerioux for his private collection, was the natural choice. Rose remains at the head of the conservatory and is a recognized world specialist on the genus. From Millerioux’s original collection of 250 species of begonia, the conservatory greenhouses now holds nearly 600 species from nature and 1000 more hybrids created from 1845 to the present. Labelled “national collection,” this is considered the most important begonia collection in Europe.

The conservatory has many plants that have grown to a size that visitor don’t often see in botanical gardens. There are sure to be some plants in flower whatever time of year one visits, but Rose says that the interest of the collection is the diversity and particularly the diversity of the leaves, rather than whether or not they are in flower. Despite the floral consonance of his own name, Rose says that he’s more interested in the diversity of leaves within the genus rather than its flowers. He says that he is especially fond of the freshness of the vegetation in spring as the days get longer.

Visiting the conservatory

The Conservatoire du Bégonia can be visited February through November on regularly scheduled guided tours. The conservatory gardeners themselves serve as guides. Tours are accessible to the casual visitor while also being informative for the begonia-lover. The passionate visitor, says Rose, is more likely to come from northern Europe rather than France or southern Europe, with curious British visitors leading the way.

The visit is conducted in French, while non-French-speakers join along with an explanatory brochure in English. Nevertheless, groups are often small enough that the gardener-guide, if he speaks adequate English, if often willing answer the questions of non-French-speaking visitors. Pre-constituted groups should call and ask to have one of the more fluent English-speaking gardeners as their guide.

Le Conservatoire du Bégonia
La Prée Horticole
1 rue Charles Plumier
17300 Rochefort
Tel. 05 46 82 40 30
www.begonia.rochefort.fr
The conservatory is open February through November. See the website for regularly scheduled tours, entrance fees and opening times.

For another exceptional place and individual in Rochefort read Sylvie Deschamps, France’s Master Artist of Gold Embroidery. Also read Rochefort: Ships, Shipyards and Seafarers.

© 2017, Gary Lee Kraut

An earlier version of this article was published in The Connexion.

The post The Begonia Conservatory: Without Rochefort There Would Be No Begonias appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

* * *

Urbanites in France often speak of Creuse, a region deep into the often bypassed center of the country, as the kind of place to which you might flee to escape the rat race and surround yourself with goats and sheep, the proverbial middle of nowhere.

France Revisited takes pleasure in revealing the somewhere of such nowheres, and there is nowhere more somewhere in Creuse than the small town of Aubusson, world famous for its 500 years of tapestry-making.

Cité Internationale de la Tapisserie Aubusson

The Cité Internationale de la Tapisserie Aubusson (International Center of Aubusson Tapestry), which opened in July 2016, represents far more than a pat on the back to the history of tapestry-making in the region. It also reaffirms and encourages the continuity of know-how for the entire branch of tapestry-related activities present in Creuse, from the raising of sheep and the spinning and dying of wool to the creation of images and their weaving into an extraordinary array of contemporary tapestries.

The Cité is at once a museum, an institution for the transmission of know-how, a research center, a start-up incubator for related businesses and a platform for the promotion and creation of contemporary tapestries.

Taking the relay from an older, smaller museum, the Cité project was in the works for over 20 years, but truly began to take shape in 2009 when Aubusson tapestry-making gained entry onto UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage.

As a museum, the Cité displays examples of tapestries since the 15th century, including a dramatic presentation of works through the ages presented in a series of theatrical decors. The techniques of tapestry-making and their use around the world are also presented. And 12 weavers (lissiers in French) are admitted every two years to the Cité’s two-year program for budding weavers. Also, State-owned tapestries are now restored here.

Weavers, les lissiers

Visiting the Cité Internationale de la Tapisserie Aubusson is one of the rewards of a detour into the middle of the somewhere of Creuse. And enhancing that rewards is the possibility to meet individuals who carry and transmit the know-how associated with the creation of Aubusson tapestries.

Since 2010, the Cité has supported the work of regional artisans in the development of contemporary creations. Each year it calls on artists from around the world to present projects according to a given theme. The three selected projects are then woven in Creuse. In order to be considered an Aubusson a tapestry needn’t be woven in the town itself but anywhere within Creuse. The two main centers of creation, however, are Aubusson and Felletin.

France-Odile Perrin-Crinière in Aubusson

In 2015 France-Odile Perrin-Crinière’s workshop-gallery A2, located in the center of Aubusson, received a commission from the Cité to weave a richly colored 3m x 5m (about 9.8ft x 16.4ft) tapestry called “The Family in the Joyful Greenery” based on an image by Argentinian artists Leo Chiachio and Daniel Giannone.

Enter Perrin-Crinière’s workshop-gallery and you’ll see two (or three if she, too, has her hands on the wool) highly-skilled artisans leaning over a long horizontal loom. They work with patience, skill and comradery before a web of yarns, knots and colors—300 nuances in all. They’ve been at it for over 18 months now, and the tapestry is expected to “fall” from the loom in another six month (spring 2017). They weave without even seeing the actual face of the tapestry since a tapestry is woven from its back.

Perrin-Crinière’s route to becoming the master artisan at the helm of a well-established little workshop began in 1978 when, at the age of 16, she left her home in the Landes region of southwest France to learn tapestry-making at Aubusson. After three years of schooled training followed by several years honing her skills working for others, she struck out on her own as a creator-weaver, meaning that in addition to following the designs of others she would weave her own designs. In 2010 she partnered with another weaver to create the workshop A2. The unexpected early retirement of her partner left Perrin-Crinière alone at A2 just as the major commission from the Cité arrived.

In need of employees she turned to the two-year formal training program run by the Cité. She hired two weavers whose entrance into the field was quite different from her own.

Patricia Bergeron, a Creuse native, had a long career assisting the elderly before undertaking a professional reconversion to become a weaver. “Ever since I was little I’ve worked with my fingers,” she says. “I did embroidery and knitting, without thinking that I’d eventually turn to working in a workshop like this.”

Aubusson’s international reputation meant that Aiko Konomi knew of Aubusson tapestries in her native Japan, where she received a master’s degree in contemporary art fabrics. She arrived in 2014 to study in the Cité’s program. For financial reasons and because of her prior experience working towards her master’s degree, she only completed one year of the program before Perrin-Crinière hired her. Bergeron and Konomi now work daily on the commissioned tapestry while Perrin-Crinière puts in time here and there between weaving smaller orders on other looms and running workshops.

A2 has now earned the label Entreprise du Patrimoine Vivant (Living Heritage Company, or EPV), a distinction given by the French State in recognition of excellence in traditional and industrial skills.

While working on this major commission as an artisan at the service of art (artisan d’art), Perrin-Crinière continues to create and execute her own designs in which she marries color and material, such as a tapestry framed by slate (e.g. the work behind her in the photo above).

Catherine Bernet in Felletin

A pretty 10-kilometer (6-mile) drive south through the wooded valley from Aubusson, leads to Felletin, a small town of 1800 inhabitants, less than half the size of Aubusson. If Aubusson is France’s tapestry capital, Felletin is its cradle since tapestry work has been documented here since the middle of the 15th century, even before Aubusson. More than 500 years later, Felletin remains a force in the Aubusson tapestry industry. The tennis-court size tapestry at Coventry Cathedral, designed by the British artist Graham Sutherland and completed in 1962, was made on a single loom in Felletin by Pinton, one of the largest manufacturers in the region.

As Perrin-Crinière passed the half-way mark of her commissioned tapestry at A2, the Cité’s commission to Catherine Bernet and her Atelier Bernet was falling from its loom after two years of weaving. (A tapestry “falls” from the loom when the weaving is complete.) For the first time Bernet could see the full 2m x 8m (6.6ft x 26.2ft) tapestry face up. But no sooner had its fall from the loom been celebrated then the tapestry was turned over again so that she could set to work bunching and cutting the pompoms on the back.

The tapestry is the door-rug intended to be partially hung, partially laid flat (see photo) in the lobby of the Cité Internationale. The image for tapesry, officially title “Toute personne 2 – Tissage métissage,” was created by Vincent Bécheau and Marie-Laure Bourgeois, architect-designers from Dordogne who, Bernet says, “actively participated without hindering the work.”

Both Bernet and Perrin-Criniere speak of the “relation of confidence” between the weaver and the artist-cartoonist. (The image that a tapestry is based on is called a cartoon, carton in French.) “A tapestry is necessarily a collaborative work, a dialogue between the two,” says Bernet.

Bruno Ythier, curator of the Cité, says that while weavers may be creators of the images for the tapestries they create, Aubusson largely represents an encounter between the image’s creator (an artist, a decorator, an architect or another) and the weaver who then interprets that image.

Bernet’s workshop in an attic partially bathed in natural light in a house near the center of Felletin. She works with two employees, one a young weaver whom she employed freshly graduated from the Cité weaving program, the other a weaver with 35 years of experience.

Originally from nearby Auvergne, Bernet came to tapestry-making in 2010, at the age of 34, having begun her professional career as a pharmacist. “In my free time I did a lot of painting and sculpting, but it was impossible to include my artistic side into my professional life,” she says.

She discovered tapestry-making “a little by chance” and, after giving that discovery time to mature in her mind, she crossed the border from Auvergne to Creuse and from pharmacy to craftsmanship.

Instead of seeking to enter Cité’s program, she apprenticed directly within with the Pinton workshop in order to better understand “the reality of the work.” “Having left my previous work, I couldn’t afford to make a mistake,” she says, “so I wanted to go directly to the heart of the matter to see if it was for me or not.”

It was.

In 2013 she set up her own shop. No sooner had she hung out her shingle then she sought and received the commission from the Cité to weave the door-rug which now prominently stands-lies in its lobby.

Asked if he ever misses her work as a pharmacist Bernet says, “There’s great joy [in being a lissière] but it also demands a lot in terms of time and energy. It’s a complete investment. But no regrets.”

Tapestry for the centennial of WWI

Weavers can also been seen at work in the Cité Internationale de la Tapisserie Aubusson itself. The inaugural on-site project, currently underway, is a tapestry for the centennial of the First World War.

Woven by the workshop of Patrick Guillot, it is based on an image entitled Pieta for World War I by the German artist Thomas Bayrle. Measuring 4.5m x 4.5m (14.7ft x 14.7ft) and consisting of thousands of skulls, the pieta is being woven on a loom that has been specially installed for the project in the Cité. The tapestry will eventually be displayed at the Historial Franco-Allemand of Hartmannswillerkopf in Alsace, a French-German WWI museum to be inaugurated on Nov. 11, Armistice Day, 2017.

The Terrade spinning and dyeing company

Not all wool that that goes into Aubusson tapestries comes from sheep raised in Creuse. Furthermore, all manner of fiber and fabrics may be used in Aubusson tapestries: alpaca, camel, bamboo, synthetics, etc. Nevertheless, those in search of local tradition might drive down by the narrow Creuse River as it flows out of Felletin toward Aubusson, there to visit Filature Terrade, a spinning and dyeing business that has been run by the Terrade family for over a century. Filature Terrade has also recently received the national label Entreprise du Patrimoine Vivant (Living Heritage Company, or EPV).

Until 1950 the factory produced woolen cloth for shepherd’s capes before transforming into a spinning factory for wool and dying, primarily of sheep’s wool, using natural dyes. It is a small factory by industry standards, producing about 20 tons per year. It allows for a fascinating and personable introduction to spinning and dying. (Visits are organized by a local association; see information below.) Now operated by the third (Michel) and fourth (Thierry) generation of the founding Terrade family, the factory produces customized yarn for professionals. A small boutique on the site is open to the public and has excellent factory prices on wool yarn and knit products.

Practical Information and Contacts

See websites for opening times and entrance fee.

Cité Internationale de la Tapisserie Aubusson
Rue des Arts
23200 Aubusson
Tel. 05 55 66 66 66

Musée des Cartons de Tapisserie d’Aubusson
The images that weavers follow and interpret in creating tapestries are known as cartoons, cartons in France. This one-of-a-kind museum along the Creuse River as it flows through Aubusson present an exceptional collection of historic cartoon. It can only be visited on a guided tour, which is available in English.
Pont de la Terrade
1 rue de l’Abreuvoir
23200 Aubusson
Tel. 06 88 25 35 07

Filature Terrade (spinning and dying factory)
Rue de la Papeterie
23500 Felletin
Tel. 05 55 66 44 88
Don’t just stop by. Factory tours are organized by the association Felletin Patrimoine-Environement. The association (felletinpatrimoine@gmail.com) or the Felletin Tourist Office can provide further information about tapestry-related visits at Filature Terrade and elsewhere in and around the Felletin.

Hôtel de France
A charming and old-fashion 3-star hotel and restaurant in the center of Aubusson, amiably operated by René Jean Hawaï.
6 rue des Déportés
23200 Aubusson
Tel. 05 55 66 10 22

Aubusson Tourist Office
63 rue Vieille
23200 Aubusson
Tel. 05 55 66 32 12

Felletin Tourist Office
Place Quinault
23500 Felletin
Tel. 05 55 64 54 60
An annual exhibition of tapestries in the Gothic chapel at the center of town. In late October Felletin organizes National Wool Days (Journées Nationales de la Laine) http://journeesdelalaine.wixsite.com/felletin devoted to all aspects of the use and production of wool, from shearing to yarn to finished goods.

Information about Aubusson is available in Felletin and vice versa. Information about the overall Creuse region can be found at www.tourisme-creuse.com.

© 2016, Gary Lee Kraut

An earlier version of this article first appeared in The Connexion.

The post Aubusson Tapestries: Weavers, Spinners, Dyers, Cartoonists and the Cité Internationale appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

* * *

A small wine doesn’t mean a small time. Wine drinker knows that. Wine travelers knows that better.

So it is in the vineyards of the ordinary—I use that term fondly—Bordeaux produced in the region’s Entre-Deux-Mers zone, lying between the Dordogne and Garonne Rivers. Far removed from the evocative, well-dressed chateaux and labels of Margaux, Latour, Lafite, Haut-Brion and Mouton et al., here we are much closer to the Bordeaux of cafés, easy-going restaurants and French supermarkets. You don’t post a photo of a bottle of these wines, you post a photo the friends you share it with.

Each year on the second Sunday of June, you can share some with 2100+ friends as the wine cooperative Les Caves de Rauzan organizes a walk in the vineyards, a day of wine, food, music and viticultural brotherhood on the edges of the small town of Rauzan (population 1100). Rauzan is 30 miles east of Bordeaux and 10 miles south of Saint Emilion.

Les Caves de Rauzan represents more than 400 growers totaling 8649 acres (3500 hectares) in the Entre Deux Mers zone of the Bordeaux winegrowing region. While the individual growers take care of their vineyards, the cooperative takes care of the winemaking. Recent mergers of the cooperatives of Rauzan, Grangeneuve and Nérigean, each with its own site of vinification, have made Les Caves de Rauzan the largest producer of appellation wines in France, primarily AOC Bordeaux and Bordeaux Supérieur and Entre-Deux-Mers.

The vast majority of the vines in the zone produce red grapes—merlot, cabernet franc, cabernet sauvignon—blended for the Bordeaux and Bordeaux Supérieur. The white grapes—sauvignon blanc, semillon, muscadelle—are blended for the Entre-Deux-Mers. All told, the cooperative produces 176000 hectoliters of wine. That’s the equivalent of about 25 million bottles: 70% red, 15% white, 15% rosé. Eighty percent is sold by wine trading merchants under a wide assortment of labels. The rest is sold directly.

Cellar treasures? No. These are young and relatively low-end wines on the Bordeaux scale. Oak-heads should look elsewhere, though they’ll certainly enjoy themselves at the party in the vines.

All ages are welcome as the event draws hikers, bon-vivants, couples, families and groups of friends or co-workers. The 3.7-mile (6K) walk or “promenade gourmande” takes place in seven musical and appetizing steps from mid-morning and through the afternoon: welcome, aperitif, oysters, foie gras and cold cuts, entrecote (rib steak), cheese and dessert.

Within the ruins of the Chateau de Rauzan, participants are greeted by the Order of Bordeaux and Bordeaux Superieur Winegrowers (and a jazz trio) and are ceremoniously given a glass and a collar glass holder, turning each person into wine pilgrim of sorts.

Departures every 15 minutes from 10am to 1pm keep the 2100+ participants from bunching up in any one stop. Pilgrims proceed at their own pace, lingering as long as they want at any one station. Nevertheless, a bottleneck inevitably forms at the vine-grilled entrecôte stop where the accumulation of wine and now the steak and marching band help bring the atmosphere to its most joyful pitch.

Watch this video and join the party in the vines.

For more information about this walk in the vineyard see the site of Les Caves de Rauzan.

© 2016, Gary Lee Kraut

The post A Joyful Walk in the Bordeaux Vineyards of Rauzan appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.