Provence light in mid-winter

Overlooking 'Domaine Les Clarettes', just outside Les Arcs-sur-Argens.

This weekend marks the final days of my husband's exhibition of paintings of Provence. Painted over the past eight years, the works brought a little bit of Provencal sunshine to the chilly city of Ballarat.

Painting a scene in a Les Arcs street.

Alan, who has French ancestry, has been painting France since he made his first sketch from the balcony of his mother's house in Menton (Alpes-Maritimes) at the age of five.

He studied at art school in England, and has exhibited in southern England (including having three works selected for the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition in London). Since moving to Australia his work has been shown in galleries in Victoria and Melbourne.

On our first ever visit to Les Arcs-sur-Argens in 2008, he said, quite casually: 'I could paint here for the rest of my life.'

I was already sold on the village and its lovely ambience, but that comment probably sealed it. We were vaguely looking at houses anyway - and we eventually bought a tiny 18th century terraced house in the village centre.

Alan paints from life - landscapes, townscapes, still lifes - and loves being in an area where he has ready access to wonderful little galleries like L'Annociade at Saint-Tropez and Musée Bonnard at Le Cannet, not to mention Cezanne's studio in Aix-en-Provence, Musée Matisse in Nice and all the art at St Paul de Vence, Grasse and Antibes - everywhere actually!

Alan painting on the rooftop in Les Arcs.

His plein air studio is set up on the roof terrace, where he paints small oil sketches of drawings he has made on his travels in various parts of Provence.

These sketches return with us to Australia, where he enlarges them in his studio, according to colour notes he has made.

And this year he put them all together for an exhibition at Backspace Gallery in Ballarat during the month when we  avidly watch the Tour de France and celebrate the Fete Nationale (Bastille Day) on July 14.

It was incredible to see them all in one space and to experience that brilliant Provencal light in the middle of a chilly Ballarat winter.

'The Argens in flood.' Looking back over the town, showing the medieval castle tower.

Medieval mysteries

One of the strange beasts to be found high above your heads in the cloisters of the Fréjus Cathedral.

One of the wondrous things that has inspired me in France is living with its history. There is no escaping. Les Arcs-sur-Argens was originally a medieval settlement. Provence was invaded by the Romans, the Catalans, the Piedmontese - all of whom have left their mark.

I was fascinated by Stonehenge, the white horse on Salisbury plain, the castles and ancient Roman ruins when I lived in UK in the 1970s and 80s, but probably because I was younger then, they didn’t create the ‘frisson’ they do today.

This is a fresco from a chateau in Puy-de-Dome.

Perhaps it is since my return to Australia, as I studied tapestry weaving and the beautiful medieval tapestries that graced so many castles and chateaux in Europe, that my interest has grown.

Les Arcs stages one of Provence’s leading medieval festivals – taking place next month – called ‘Castrum d’Arcus’, where the entire village ‘becomes’ medieval with stalls, dances, jugglers, strolling minstrels, re-enactments, a grand spectacle and street parades – not to mention medieval food and drink!

But just a short trip from Les Arcs-sur-Argens is the ancient Roman town of Fréjus. Originally located on the sea front, the mouth of the adjacent River Argens has silted up over the centuries so that the centre of Fréjus is now three kilometres inland!

The ceiling of the cloisters showing the tiny paintings.

In the centre of the town is the Cathédrale de Fréjus - and its magnificent cloisters, the wooden ceilings of which have been delicately painted by medieval artists. It is one of the most fascinating cloisters I have ever seen. Hidden in niches between the wooden beams that support the floor above, are hundreds of tiny paintings. 

The figures and mythical beasts were painted  directly onto the raw wood with earth pigments,  by unknown medieval artists. Although many are faded - and some were destroyed during revolutions and wars - around 300 have been preserved out of an original 1200. Many were saved because of their position, away from the bleaching effects of strong sunlight.

Known as ‘bestiaries mythiques’ or mythical beasts, these figures are intriguing. They originate (I think) with the fantastical beasts described in the Book of Revelations as well as myths and legends of weird sea creatures and stories of exotic animals from other lands.

Some are half-human, half-animal, they show the daily life of the times as well as the strange world of gothic imagination. They include a range of themes from wars, religion, music, animals, daily life and work. I find them mesmerising and surprisingly modern. In fact I visit the cloisters every time I am in France, just to refresh my memory and perhaps get another perspective on them.

'La reine'- one of my tiny tapestries in medieval style.

During your visit, you can gather more information on how these tiny works of art were put together with a film documentary that shows modern artisans replicating the ancient works, plus displays showing the earth colours used and how they would be mixed, the brushes used and how the wood was prepared.

There are many other churches throughout France with similar depictions in tapestries and frescoes - not to mention the gargoyles guarding the rooftops!
 

I knew that one day I would have to weave them, if only to ‘feel’ how they could be recreated in woven tapestry. So I have taken some of the basic designs and modernised them and am showing them - together with artwork from 25 other women artists of Ballarat - in an exhibition called ‘Sheilas Reclaimed’ which opens this Friday evening (June 30) at the Fairbanks Eye Gallery.

 

Our next-door village

The ancient double arched bridge that crosses the Nartuby River and links both side of the village.

I have written before about Trans-en-Provence, its puits arien and some general views over the town.

Fountain in the main square.

Located just five kilometres north of Les Arcs, it is perfectly walkable, if you don’t mind hills! In any case, it’s just a short bus-ride halfway to Draguignan.

But unless you turn into the town itself, you will miss a real gem. Trans-en-Provence is divided – twice. Firstly it is bisected by the busy D555 road from the autoroute to Draguignan and secondly by the Nartuby River that flows down from the north along steep gorges cut into the softer limestone rock.

It is here, beside the river that the town takes its shape, and presumably originated as there are old mills located along its shores, mostly as ruins.

In summer, the river is a fast-flowing, but softer, gurgling stream that refreshes. There is nothing nicer that to find a space on the wall beside the stream shaded by of one of the larger trees and watch a relaxed game of pétanque played on the beaten earth courts that run alongside the river.

The memorial to those who died - one name missing.

Looking towards the single-arched bridge in the distance.

But the river can also prove a threat to the town as in June 2010 when steady, heavy rain filled the narrow gorges and swept down like a raging torrent, killing almost 30 people – five in Trans-en-Provence alone – and creating millions of euros’ worth of damage to the towns and villages along the way.

Les Arcs-sur-Argens’ bill for the grande inondation came to €5 million alone and reparations are still being undertaken in the village.
There are few marks remaining on the town itself, but a sign recognises the flood – and a previous one on July 6, 1827 – both floods occurring in the stormy early summer months.

The river glides away further south in the gorge far below the village.

But strolling through Trans-en Provence is an eye-opener. The town does not look particularly spectacular from first view, so you have to make an effort to come in close. When you do, you are well rewarded with lovely little alleyways and impasses, the grand river that tumbles over rocks through the town, then falls steeply into a valley over a series of cascades to the river valley below.

There are a few cafes, but they are set on streets so narrow that your only views are parked cars. The main street is one-way. There is definitely no room for two cars to pass here – there is barely enough room for the bus as it lumbers along. I truly admire the way the drivers are able to negotiate the turns and badly parked cars without hitting anything.

Trans-en-Provence is located near a commercial hub about 500 metres north of the town, where there are giant stores like Carrefours, Maison du Monde (my favourite) and Mr Bricolage, as well a ‘Bio’ store that sells organic food – and a few too many car showrooms!

Although there is not a lot to ‘do’ in Trans, there is a feast of things to ‘see’ so it is an ideal half-day stop to see how this village has grown up around a natural feature such as this amazing river with its spectacular rocks, ruins and drop down to a leafy green river valley.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

These feet are made for walking

There's nothing comparable to walking the fragrant hills of Provence.

Walking is for me, the best way to see and learn about your surrounds, whether is it the bush, city streets – or the narrow sentiers (walking tracks) that criss-cross the fragrant hills of Provence.

One of the first things I do when I arrive at a place – anywhere new, really – is walk around and familiarise myself in the sights, scents, sounds of it.

But wandering through the countryside is a serious business for the French, particularly those in the south who have been walking the hillsides for centuries. Known as ‘La Randonnée’ – probably the best English translation is the very British ‘Rambling’ – it is akin to hiking.

Wandering beside olive groves.

In the Var, there are numerous paths throughout the region and our local council in Les Arcs-sur-Argens is planning to extend the tracks from our village into the Massif des Maures to the south as well as across the hills to our neighbouring villages.

One of my favourite walks – which I prefer to do in cooler weather because of the summer fire danger – is to the top of the Forêt des Arcs, located in the Maures.

The goal is to reach the highest point, where you have a treat in store – not only the expansive view across central Var, but because of its links to pre-historic times with its rocks, placed in strategic positions by former inhabitants.

Tracks take you deep into the Gorges du Verdon.

Known as Terriers, Menhirs or Dolmen, these sharp, cylindrical rocks are found often arranged on end in strange circles reminiscent of tiny Stonehenges, or lying one across two uprights like a door jamb.

The tourist office in Les Arcs has maps of the area and you can choose to take the main balade (walk) of 14 kilometres or the short one of 9.2km. With any of these longer walks it is essential that you take in enough water and probably something to eat to sustain you.

The guide also explains the coloured markings and symbols painted on rocks or attached to trees as you ascend, marking your way – yellow and white for the ‘Promenade and Randonnée’ here. There are other colours for regional and national 'grande randonnées'.

Starting by the Argens River, the track slowly rises through the forest, past ancient cork oaks, whose bark has once been used for wine corks by the local vintners. It also passes some of the early mines, now abandoned, where they once extracted precious minerals from deep within the Maures.

There are two other paths that I have not yet investigated and plan to ‘one of these days’.

They are the Grande Randonnée up and over what we call the ‘Red Rock’ but is locally known as ‘Roquebrune’.  The rich red earth of the rock and the way it glows in the setting sun remind us so much of central Australia. We have already mapped our start – and are looking forward to ending up at one of our favourite restaurants on the other side at Roquebrune-sur-Argens.

Sometimes you find other 'randonneurs' on your walk!

The second is more a series of paths, deep within the Canyon of Verdon in northern Var. I have climbed down to the river bed from the cliffs above, but have not yet taken one of the trails that lead both up and downstream – as well as up the other side of the canyon!

Finally there is our own familiar sentier that links Les Arcs with the neighbouring village of Taradeau. It is strenuous enough so you know you have done some exercise, but not so far that you wind up exhausted.  And it’s always good to be able to stop for a refreshing drink in the main street of Taradeau before the homeward journey (on foot or by bus).

 

 

 

Empty Attics

The Vide Grenier at les Arcs-sur-Argens.

The summer months in Les Arcs-sur-Argens are hot, dry and dusty, but the warm summer nights with music and dancing in the street make the days worthwhile.

Another way to counteract the heat is just to ignore it.

Musical instruments to haggle over.

One way to do that is to get absorbed in something else – like fossicking through other people’s ‘stuff’.

So once a month we walk out to the edge of town – near the ‘Rond point deux chypres’  - the roundabout on the way to ‘La chapelle de Sainte Roseline’  (which has more than two cypress pines, by the way) – where the huge Vide grenier is held.

Now a ‘Vide Grenier’ – literally ‘empty attic’ is like a car boot sale. People figuratively clean out their attics and unwanted, but still saleable good are spread out on rugs, tables, tarpaulins and sold for incredibly cheap prices.

It’s the best way to furnish a house.

It’s also the best way to over-fill your suitcase for the journey home.

For me, it is almost impossible to resist buying something – and I have to be very disciplined not to buy everything that takes my eye – whether I have a use for it or not.

Shoes anyone?

Most towns throughout France stage Vide greniers from time-to-time and if you have a chance to go to one, please do.

You can browse for hours.

Sometimes you will find real treasures. Other times you will come home with an item and wonder what on earth you were thinking.

I imagine that feeling is the same the world over.

The Vide Grenier at Les Arcs-sur-Argens is dotted around an enormous paddock with rows and rows of good laid out for browsing.

It's located at the roundabout - the junction of roads that take you to Draguignan in the north, south to the N7 (route nationale) and east (past Sainte-Roseline) towards La Motte.

It gets full of people and cars very early so we tend to walk out from the town - a kilometre or so, but remember to bring large shopping bags for the inevitable purchases!



Something to decorate the house and garden.

It is hot and dusty and noisy and busy and happy. There are places where you can chill out with food, a coffee or an ice cream in the dappled shade of the native pines.

The view is amazing towards the blue outlines of Les Maures to the south. The traders are fun, cheeky and expect you to haggle.


Take some sun cream, a large hat, your camera, a bottle of water and a sense of humour.

Pumpkins - for decoration only.

You can make the rounds again and again as new wares come out to replace those bought earlier in the day. But by late afternoon, the clouds of dust gather at the bottom of the paddock as cars make their way back home.

It’s time to gather up that lamp, the outrageous pair of shoes, that funny little figurine and broken-but-pretty musical instrument you have just bought, and make your way back into town.

Once you have showered off the dust and admired your purchases (or planned who you might pass them on to), it’s time for your evening apéro.

The shadows lengthen and the town centre fills up with diners, most of whom are and satisfied shoppers and sellers, a band begins to play in the kiosk and you realise that despite the summer heat, you’ve just had a magnificent day.

Rows and rows of goods laid out for you to bargain for.

 

 

 

A day in Saint-Tropez

'Saint-Tropez, le port 1905' by Albert Marquet. Musée de l'Annonciade, Saint-Tropez. 

Once a sleepy fishing village and artists’ haven, the town of Saint-Tropez – one of the best known in the Var – now conjures up glamour, luxury yachts and beautiful people.

The change came in the 1950s when movie stars like Brigitte Bardot moved in. Artists, actors, models , musicians and the ’jet set’ all followed, putting Saint-Tropez on the map and changing it forever.

Saint-Tropez from la navette (the ferry).

Yet despite these changes – the up-market restaurants, the luxury boutiques, the beautiful people – the town has somehow managed to retain a genuine attraction, for me anyway.

I love nothing better than to catch one of the Bateaux Verts (water taxis) from Sainte-Maxime and speed across the Golfe de Saint-Tropez towards the town.

There is a feeling of exhilaration about cutting through the waves and weaving through the yachts 
as you approach the little pink-and-ochre town that grew up around its fishing fleet.

Drawing closer you can make out the familiar rounded church tower that has marked the town through the ages, the Citadelle – high on the promontory – and the breakwater that creates a safe harbour for both the enormous luxury yachts and the smaller, working fishing vessels.

Senequier - a landmark café on the port. 

You arrive portside to recognise so many landmarks made famous in posters, works of art and photographs.

It is always overcrowded with tourists in summer, yet there is a sense of fun and anticipation as you turn for a stroll around the port. Each year the town hosts an outdoor sculpture exhibition there, and regular artists set up side-by-side to ply their trade like a sunny southern Place du Tertre.

But the true finds are when you start exploring the narrow walkways and passages that take you into the heart of the town.  I could spend all my time wandering up and down these lanes – seeking out tiny galleries, restaurants hidden behind high bougainvillea-covered walls, arcades of Haute Couture boutiques and others where the usual range of soft, flowing cotton summer dresses and scarves fill the entrances.

Playing petanque in the dappled shade of the platanes (plane trees).

Push a little further and you come to the amazing Place des Lices – where the morning markets under the spreading plane trees really are something else. There are food stalls, but mostly there is an array of antique stalls – old clothes, mirrors, kitchen utensils, farm items, clocks, wrought iron candelabra, clothing, perfumes – you can spend the entire morning enveloped in the rows and rows of ‘stuff’.



Walking through the old town.

It finishes at lunchtime – everyone has to eat – and the stall-holders are like worker ants, quickly and efficiently packing everything up and clearing the entire square for the post-prandial petanque players to while away their afternoons in the dappled shade.

Meanwhile, encircling the square are restaurants of all kinds, where you can enjoy a leisurely half-pizza and salad, some locally-caught seafood or one of the special ( and extra healthy) Mediterranean dishes. Washed down, of course with some chilled local rosé.

Feeling relaxed enough to stretch those legs afterwards, you can make your way through the old town as it meanders up the hillside to the Citadelle. Warning: While the view is breathtaking, so are the many steps you have to climb to reach it.

It has been substantially renovated since we first visited it and really should be a ‘must’ on any visitor’s see-and-do list.

You learn not only about the history of St Tropez – named after the monk, St Torpès of Pisa, whose headless body was washed up in a boat on the shore of the present-day town – but also about its sea-faring pursuits and the Citadelle's own role in guarding the village below. You can even lie back on special seats and watch your own sea voyage unfold on the ceiling!

One of the giant sculptures outside l'Annonciade.

And if you’re not up to the hilly walk, my absolute favourite place to go is ‘le Musée de l’Annonciade’ – the beautiful gallery on the far edge of the port that houses a sublime collection of post-Impressionist art. Here you can see original paintings by Bonnard, Signac, Derain, Vuillard, Camoin, among so many others.

These were the early artists who colonised the small Provenҫal village, attracted by the magnificent Mediterranean light.

I sometimes return to St Tropez a second time during my stay.  It is a quick and easy day trip from Les Arcs-sur-Argens by bus to Sainte-Maxime. The Bateaux Verts that leave every 20 minutes for Saint-Tropez are just 10 minutes’ walk from the Office du Tourisme bus stop. So much easier on public transport than negotiating the Cote d’Azur in summer traffic!

It’s always a fascinating day out, even if you just want to laze in one of the café-bars lining the port and people-watch.

 

A time to look forward

Place Général de Gaulle in mid-winter with the pollarded plane trees. Too cold for outdoor tables!

New Year’s Eve and we look forward, not just to some spectacular fireworks over Lake Wendouree in Ballarat, but to a fresh New Year where (we have to believe this!) anything is possible.

'Fireworks' on the donjon.

There is a lot of apprehension around 2017 on the world stage, but if we as individuals can do our part to spread some kindness, compassion and love among the circles around us, then we will hopefully create a ripple effect that will link with others doing the same - and perhaps help to ameliorate this worldwide anxiety.

I look over to our little village, Les Arcs-sur-Argens, in France and see that the Maire des Arcs, Alain Parlanti, will make a speech offering his best wishes for 2017 (and no doubt outline his plans for the year) – at a public presentation on January 3.

Several days later, one of the town's organisations is offering a dinner for the Galette des Rois (or Kings' Cake) celebrated on January 6, where the person receiving the piece of cake containing a fava bean or other small trinket, is crowned King or Queen for the day.


It is also our twelfth day of Christmas, when our trees are taken down and decorations stored for another year. I will miss the scent of the real pine tree through our house.


Then mid-month (back in Les Arcs) there will be a special Concert du Nouvel An (New Year's concert) at the town's main church, Saint Jean-Baptiste, a chorale to be presented by the choir from the neighbouring town of Lorgues.

Quiet, calm, no fuss and traditional.

Australia is traditional in its own way – and because our seasons are reversed, we embrace the outdoors to enjoy activities with friends and family. It generally means the beach or the bush or maybe botanic gardens, outdoor concerts, cricket, tennis and the laid-back holiday relaxation of summer.

And did anyone mention resolutions  . . . ?

 

Mountain-top delight

Sainte-Agnès nestled below the peak of a mountain topped by a medieval chateau.

This little village in the far south-east corner of France is very dear to my heart.

Sainte-Agnès – the highest village In Europe which is also closest to the sea (‘le village du littoral le plus haut d’Europe’) – is listed as one of the country’s most beautiful.

It is also the ancestral village of my husband’s family on his mother’s side, with the plaque in the Chapelle de Saint-Sebastien carrying her family name, and the current Mayor of Sainte-Agnès also connected through family links.

You can just see the Hotel Righi - that marks Sainte-Agnès - near the cloud.

Just 11kms north of Menton, Sainte-Agnès sits high at the top of one of the mountain peaks that surround the town. Tucked away behind the main rocky outcrop, it is not visible from below.

Looking up, all you can see is the glowing white Hotel Righi , very popular in the 1920s, where you can still enjoy an English afternoon tea – together with a stunning view from Italy to Monaco and across the Mediterranean as far as Corsica.

The village is believed to have been named in honour of Sainte-Agnès who protected a young Roman princess who was forced to shelter there in a grotto during a thunderstorm. Having been saved, she built a chapel, naming it after her patron saint.



One of the ruelles in Sainte-Agnès.

Although I relay this legend, I have no explanation as to why a young Roman princess would be on the top of a mountain in southern France! Or whether it is true, because there is a second legend that a Sarrasin pirate, Haroun, renounced his Muslim religion to marry a local girl called Anna, ergo Sainte-Agnès.

Believe what you wish, but I do love these legendary – and possibly wildly inaccurate – histories.

Not only does Sainte-Agnès have links to medieval times, but it also marks the start of the Maginot Line – mistakenly thought to deter the enemy in wartime – but now a fascinating museum, where you can join nocturnal guided tours in July and August that explain its strategic capability, its armaments and the history of the Occupation of this part of France during World War Two.

One of the streets in the village.

When our children were small, we actually walked up to the town from Menton – each of us pushing a child in a push-chair – much to the amusement of the villagers when we finally arrived!

Although it is just two kilometres inland from the coast, Sainte-Agnès is 750 metres above sea level, which meant the 11km walk was quite a hike.

The village itself has narrow pedestrianised streets, known as ruelles. If you drive up, there is a big communal parking area just outside.

Many of the houses are set into the rocky outcrop at the top of this mountain with vaulted ceilings and rough stones forming their interiors.

Today the village is geared almost exclusively for tourism, but my husband remembers it just after the war, when hessian sacks were used as coverings instead of doors and windows. It was seen as a dilapidated and dying village as most of its occupants abandoned it to move to Menton.

From this already-high village a winding path leads up another 50 metres to the ruins of an old château which is slowly being restored. Inside the ramparts of this château, a beautiful medieval garden had already been replanted with olive trees, hedged flower beds and topiary trees.

Back in the town, there are a number of restaurants that offer both great food and stunning views.

Wandering the streets you experience the heady scents of lavender and lemon – and it is impossible to resist the locally-made perfumes.



The walk up to the chateau currently under restoration.

If you visit the village towards the end of July, you can catch La fete de la lavande (the Lavender festival), which centres on the locally-grown lavender, its distillation, products - including food as well as perfumes, soaps and sachets, plus artisans at work and various performances.

Just a note – you won’t see vast fields of lavender, for which Provence in renowned, around this mountain-top village. The lavender here is on a much smaller scale and not always grown at Sainte-Agnès.

There are lots of walking tracks leading from here – one of which takes you to another small hillside village called Gorbio, just two kilometres away. A good way to walk off that lunch.

 

 

 

Tu es belle, Saint-Raphaël !

Looking across the new marina at Saint Raphael.

That is not an original headline, but as a former sub-editor, I wish it were. It appeared in our daily newspaper – the Var-Matin.

I am probably digressing here, but the Var-Matin brings news of not only the Var department, France, and the world; it also has very local news, depending on where you live.

Var is not a large department by any means, but the Var-Matin prints seven editions – each one based on a different town within the department. Ours is the Draguignan edition.

The sandy beach at St Raphael.

The summer lift-out, ‘Le Jounal de l’été’ contains lists of festivals, music concerts, art exhibitions, theatrical performances and leisure activities  in the Var for its holidaymakers.

And the headline above announced a feature on Saint Raphaël.



Saint Raphael is a 20-minute train journey from Les Arcs. It is the best place to go to swim, browse the shops and boutiques, eat, soak up the sun and just enjoy – and it’s so easy to get to, particularly if you don’t have your own transport.

The main beach is sandy – and while it can get pretty crowded at the height of the summer season, there is always the possibility of walking further around the coast – east towards the Estérel and its tiny, rocky bays – or west towards Fréjus plage (beach at Fréjus).



One of the small coves along the Estérel coast.

The convenience of the beachfront at Saint Raphaël comes when you decide it’s time for something to eat or drink.


Just across the road above the beach is a strip of restaurants – or you can take a leisurely stroll a little further around past the newly-rebuilt marina to an amazing strip of shops and even more restaurants where you really are spoilt for choice.

I love the partly faded elegance of Saint Raphaël. It was once the sojourn of choice for writers and artists of the immediate post-World War One period of the 1920s – think Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald. You can see the grand old decorative seafront hotels still holding their own among the newer holiday apartments.



If you ask at the tourist office, you can take a tour to see the various individual mansions of this period.

Saint Raphaël is also a centre for deep sea diving and there are many boat trips you can take around the coast or day trips to other places such as St Tropez.

Aerial photograph of the town showing beachfront and marina. From Var-Matin.

Just off the coast – you can see them from the beach – are the ‘monster’ rocks. Their shapes resemble a monster with the head of a lion and the body of a crocodile, known as ‘lion de terre et lion de mer’ (the lion of the earth and the lion of the sea).  Legend has it that they were once living monsters guarding a sleeping princess, who were turned to stone (rocks) by the prince charming who came to wake her!

A sort-of Sleeping Beauty – French style.

Not being one for diving myself, I prefer to visit the ‘l’histoire sous-marin’ (underwater history) museum – called the Musée archéologique (Archeology Museum) – where some amazing antiquities have been brought to the surface from the many ancient shipwrecks that occurred on the rocks just offshore.

An ancient anchor from one of the shipwrecks.

There you can see ancient anchors, rows of amphoras, used to transport oil from the eastern Mediterranean, plates, bowls and goblets that have been salvaged from the seabed.

Another part of the museum is dedicated to the pioneers of deep sea diving, and includes the first heavy independent diving suit that was constructed at Saint Raphaël in 1928.

It is also at this museum where you can climb the 129 steps to the top of a fortified tower and look out over not only Saint Raphaël itself, but the panoramic view back east to the red rocks of the Estérel mountains, and west towards Fréjus and the coastline that takes you past the coastal towns of St Aygulf and Les Issambres to Sainte Maxime and the Maures mountains below Les Arcs.



A row of the salvaged amphoras on display at the Archeological Museum.

And the wonderful thing is that the railway station is right in the centre of town, which means you only need to stroll two blocks to the beach or, alternatively, cross under the railway line in the other direction to climb to the old town where the museum is located.

• Enjoy a visit to Saint Raphaël – and many other interesting places in the Var and further afield  – by basing yourself in the heart of Provence, at Maison Les Arcs.

 

 

 

 

 

Weaving our stories

The Lady and the Unicorn - A mon Seul Désir

For me, a visit to Paris would not be complete without calling in at the Musée National de Moyen Age – or as it was formerly known, the Musée Cluny – to view one of my favourite works of art, ‘La dame et la licorne’ (The Lady and the Unicorn) tapestries.



Detail from 'sight'.

I have always loved textiles and as a result of a mid-life decision to study tapestry weaving, I am also a tapestry weaver.

Tapestry is one of the oldest forms of woven textiles, dating way back to shreds of Coptic weaving found among the wrappings of mummies within the pyramids in Egypt.

It is a very slow and meditative form of art, where you sit at a loom and weave with bobbins or threads wrapped together, known as ‘butterflies’.

Like other tapestry weavers, we often find our work is confused with canvas embroidery which is done with needles on a prepared canvas.

For me, tapestry weaving reached its zenith in the Middle Ages, when this stunning series of six tapestries, finely woven in silk and wool, were designed for Jean Le Viste, in the 15^th century.


Detail from 'taste'.

Each of the six panels that make up the work represents one of the senses –sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell – with the final one, ‘A Mon Seul Désir’ (To my one desire), representíng love.

At the museum, located in the Sorbonne district of Paris, the works are displayed in a circular room, low-lit to preserve the colours. I love to sit quietly in front of each one in turn to take in the glowing colours, and absorb the detailed images and intricate weaving .

The tapestries are elegant and truly beautiful and every time I see them, I find there is something more to discover.

The patterning of the background – known as Milles Fleurs (thousand flowers) – has been inspired by flowers, herbs, leaves and trees commonly found in France.

But as well as the flowers, the background also contains small animals which include exotic representations of monkeys, lions, panthers, leopards, parrots as well as familiar ones like rabbits, foxes, dogs, goats and sheep.

The Lady, now believed to be the daughter of Jean Le Viste, is dressed differently in each panel. In ‘sight’ she holds a mirror that partly reflects the Unicorn; in ‘hearing’ she plays a small organ; in ‘taste’ she takes a small sweet from a dish; in ‘smell’ she is making a circlet of carnations; in ‘touch’ she is touching the Unicorn’s horn; and in ‘A mon seul Désir’ she is replacing her necklace (from an admirer?) in a casket.

Inside the Australian Tapestry Workshop in Melbourne.

One of the reasons I am writing about this tapestry now, is that the curator of the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries, Dr Elisabeth Taburet-Delahaye, of the Musée Cluny, will be in Melbourne later this month as part of the 40^th anniversary of the former Victorian – now Australian Tapestry Workshop – to present a lecture on these works.



My own interpretation of a medieval design.

It will be a wonderful opportunity for anyone interested in France, the medieval period and in tapestries themselves, to learn more about them. To find out more about her lecture, contact the Australian Tapestry Workshop.

The workshop is also an excellent place to visit to see how the art of tapestry weaving is evolving in contemporary times and watch artist-weavers at work.



While I have not yet discovered any tapestries in Les Arcs-sur-Argens, just 70km west of the town, in Aix-en-Provence, you can find two magnificent Unicorn tapestries in the Cathédrale Saint-Saveur.



One of my figure studies.

They include ‘Assaut contre la licorne’ featuring a hunt for the Unicorn with hunters attacking the beast with spears; and the other ‘Résistance de la licorne’ is of the Unicorn fighting back, kicking out with its hind legs and spearing a dog with its horn. 

The final reason for writing about tapestries this week, is that I have six of my own small tapestries on show in in a joint exhibition of the Soldiers Hill Artist Collective in Ballarat.

These tapestries, which are simple figure studies, were influenced by an exhibition I saw in Musée Fabre at Montpellier two years ago. It was a retrospective of works created over the past 50 years by artist Claude Viallat. Some very early works showed abstract figures he had painted on pieces of wood.

The exhibition is at the Fairbanks Eye Gallery in Sturt St, Ballarat.

To discover more tapestries and artworks in France, why not enjoy a stay in Maison Les Arcs, in Les Arcs-sur-Argens in Provence in 2017.

• French tapestry pictures from The Lady and the Unicorn by Alain Erlande-Brandenburg 1989.