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Provence Odyssey | Aix: Les Photos

Here at last, after some 22 posts and countless photographs, memories and verbose ramblings, I am finally at the end of my Provence Odyssey write up, with the last of my photograph collections. Of all the cities we visited in Provence, Aix exuded the most life, colour and pure unbridled spirit. While Aix had the pastels and warm colours of its fellow Provençal towns, these were combined with grand elegant palaces, wide boulevards, and an ever bustling abundance of cafes and shops, musicians and entertainers, and best of all a daily food market – a sight which made for such a stunning kaleidoscope of colours, sounds and smells that I could have devoted an entire post to it alone.

I know I sound like a broken record, but amongst these shots are easily some of my favourites of the trip – just check out those sunflowers, with their huge heavy complex faces, gathered in a bunch so rich in their abundance, their colour and sheer hopefulness that if they didn’t suit a room, it would be worth redesigning the room around them. Check out also the stunning old adverts which are painted onto numerous walls around the city, relics of an age when mass-marketing started coming to the fore, and when classic painted images predated the advent of photography. I also love some of the typical shots of life in the city, from the bride with her wedding dress all puffed up and ruffled, and the melancholy achordian player, singing his heart out in a tired little doorway.

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Shutters and fountains, roman artefacts and art nouveau palaces, renaissance sculptures and melancholy musicians – these photos tell the tale of a diverse city, which moves to the beat of its spirited undercurrent, but in doing so loses none of the charm which it exudes from its every fountain, square and boulevard.

This is Aix: My photos.

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | Aix: Day 10 – Au revoir, not goodbye

As the saying goes, let us not say goodbye, but as the French have it, “Au Revoir!”, two words laced with the promise of a return, rather than the abject finality that accompanies the English alternative. Perhaps it is the romance of the French language which encourages such optimism in an otherwise sad parting, or the mere fact that the charm of France makes saying goodbye a near impossibility. Whatever the reason, as we prepared to bid Aix, and Provence farewell at the end of this incredible Provençal Odyssey, we knew, instinctively, that some day we would return. For despite the decent length of our journey, and the multiple sights seen and senses tickled, these days felt like a mere taster of a gigantic feast of pleasure still left undiscovered in Southern France, and for that reason alone, the assurance of a return tends towards reality.

With that ounce of optimism giving us back some bounce in our otherwise sad last steps in the incredible city of Aix, we were minded, as ever, to make the most of our last hours in the city, strolling, at times aimlessly, at others with purpose, in an attempt to take in the very last essence of this place before our departure.

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We started our day, perhaps rather morbidly, but yet appropriately I think, by following the last section of the city’s “Cézanne trail” towards the Cemetery of Saint Pierre where the great artist is buried. The visit felt appropriate, not just because, as the final resting place of so many people, it became somewhat symbolic of the end of our Provençal journey, but also because, having been inspired to visit Provence by the significant artistic connections it carries, it felt only right that we would pay homage to the father of them all in his final place of peace; a note of thanks to the father of modern art.

I’ve always rather liked cemeteries, particularly those in the Mediterranean, baked as they are by the glorious sunshine, yet emitting peace and tranquility amongst the shadows of dark cypress trees and pines. This cemetery was no different, providing an almost mesmeric experience as one walked from one elegant grave to another, aware of a family’s sadness in the multiple lives lost here, yet also feeling strangely at peace, somehow contented by the final rest of so many. The cemetery was much bigger than I had supposed, and looking up hill towards the far reaches of the site made for an incredible vista of crosses and little family mausoleums, collectively appearing like a great wave of stone and symbols.

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It took us some time to find the grave of Cézanne, a difficulty not helped by the lack of proper signage and the fact that he lies under a surprisingly innocuous gravestone when compared with many of his neighbours’ lavishly decorated headstones, and also strangely devoid of flowers or tributes from other visitors. This is perhaps testament to the sad lack of respect his city had for him in life, and yet he can lie in peace knowing how incredibly significant his life’s work has been for the art world since. Putting at least the lack of flowers to rights, I lay a simple sheaf of lavender upon his grave, feeling at that moment a great connection with the artistic heritage laid down by this man, an artist so often misunderstood but whose genius will live on forever, both in his own work and the work of countless others who followed in his wake.

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Heading back to civilisation for a final encounter with Aix’s bustling centre, we also felt as though we were resurrecting Cézanne along side us as we headed back to the world of the living. For strolling one last time down Aix’s most prominent avenue, the Cours Mirabeau, with its almost unbroken shelter of plane trees, we dropped in to the Café Les Deux Garçons, the very café where Cézanne would sit each evening to enjoy an aperatif, and where we now went about sipping our last coffee in Aix, gazing upon the chic residents of this city strolling past, breathing the warm fragrant air of Provence, and already planning how, and when we would return to this incredible part of France.

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And with that our Odyssey ended; a finale effected with such efficiency that it was almost as though our story ended just as it had begun. For with holidays like this, each and everyone of us has the opportunity to truly live a dream, and when, like any dream, you walk amongst the pages of its imagination, it feels so real – like there is no other world beyond. But as with every dream, at some point you must awaken, as reality floods back in with the harsh light of day. And so it was that our Odyssey ran dry at last, and London life took hold once again. But not completely. For with this blog, through my paintings, my photographs, and of course the sachets of lavender now to be found placed strategically around my flat, the essence of our Provençal Odyssey still lives on, and will continue to do so, sewing itself into the rich patchwork quilt of our memories which will continue giving us comfort for years to come.

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing in our journey. But it’s not quite over yet – come back tomorrow for my last Provence photo collection. Until then.

The Cours Mirabeau

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All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | My Journey in Paintings: Provence Patchwork

I have gone on endlessly about the Provençal landscape ever since this vast odyssey, not just across Southern France but also as depicted on this blog, first began some weeks ago, and now I will once again let my art do the talking. For somewhat suitably, as the end of the trip drew near, and four cities had been visited, I decided to start the fourth and final of the artworks completed while on our tour, this time inspired by the journey to Aix.

Taking the fast train from Avignon TGV down to Aix TGV in a mere 20 minutes meant for a lightening speed flight through the undulating topography of the Southern most reaches of the region, but it was nevertheless enough to make my eyes almost dewy with pleasure as they looked out onto the stunning scenery passing us by. The Provençal landscape is not complex, nor terribly unique – but it is beautiful nonetheless, because through the sheer beauty of a bucolic landscape marked by agricultural spaces pinned side by side and bordered by cypress trees and olives, the rolling countryside of the region looks like a patchwork quilt of earthy tones interspersed with the occasional splash of purple lavender or yellow corn.

Composition No. 5 (Provence Patchwork) (2013 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, gouache on paper)

Composition No. 5 (Provence Patchwork) (2013 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown, gouache on paper)

It is this patchwork effect which inspired my final gouache work on the trip. Entitled Composition No.5 (Provence Patchwork), the work once again forms part of my Compositions series. I have used flat, blocks of colour to represent the varied agriculture of the region, and in composition have tried to represent what is almost a cubist landscape resulting from the complicated crisscross of fields and bordering trees that characterise the region. I hope you like it.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2001-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Provence Odyssey | Aix: Le Dîner – La Cantine

Oh pretty Aix, if only I could write you an ode that befits the glory of your pastel-coloured visage, your night times streets ambient with the warmth of your peoples’ passion, night strollers treading the tango under the shelter of wide plane trees hung with glowing lanterns, around your fountains bustling restaurant tables clustered, and on your honey-painted walls, light reflected from street lamps and cafe candles. Aix, the city of students, of Cézanne, of the chic and the cultured, a city whose spirit is unceasing throughout day and night, and whose elixir of life bursts like electricity bolts through the long boulevards and across your terracotta rooftops.

Ice cream delight!

Ice cream delight!

Yes, by evening on our first day in Aix, a passion for Aix had swept over us both, as we wandered its streets and squares captivated by its reflected glory. Finding a gastronomic feast to match our experience was not difficult, and in one large square close to the law courts and the old Hotel de Ville, one restaurant in particular, its tables set out under the natural canopy of trees, candles flickering on its grey tables, drew us to it. The restaurant was La Cantine, offering a mix of corsican, Italian and Provençal food, but with a menu whose platters of charcuterie and oozing local cheeses had about it the casual feel of Spanish tapas.

Dinner at La Cantine

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Yet beyond the small tasty samplings of our meat-loaded starter, unctuous main courses more than satisfied our growing hunger at this temple of gastronomic delights – a succulent lamb dish sweetened in honey for Dominik, and for me a pile of perfectly al dente gorgonzola cheese pasta, retaining both a bite to the pasta, but a creamy explosion of rich blue cheese. Exquisite.

For dessert, a fresh tart of strawberries and a salted caramel crunch more than satisfied our now loaded bellies, part filled as they were at the beginning of the evening by spectacular ice cream cocktails, consumed out of the coolest of ice cream containers that I have ever seen.

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Words cannot alone describe the buzz of this incredible city, nor my remembrances of a dinner eaten to an accompaniment of chirping birds and splashing fountains aptly recreate the pleasure of that evening. So I leave you instead with some night time photos, of a city alive despite the late hour, of buildings shining with glowing projected words cast upon them, and of fountains and cafes full of the crowds who keep Aix pumping long into the night.

Aix by night

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Provence Odyssey | Aix: Day 9 – In search of Cézanne

You know that you are approaching Aix when you see the looming multi-dimensional silhouette of the Mont Sainte-Victoire rising up over the horizon. Thanks to the multiple depictions of this magnificent mountain by the city’s most famous son, Post-Impressionist Paul Cézanne, the city of Aix-en-Provence, cosmopolitan gem of Southern France, together with its ever faithful mountainous backdrop, has been placed firmly on the cultural map of Europe. They say that one should leave the best till last, and this we surely did when we made Aix the last stop of our 10 day Provençal Odyssey.

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It became immediately clear that Aix is a busy, bustling city, with the sense of something chic and Parisian about it, but at the same time maintaining the sleepy charm of the Provence region. In Aix, the shutters and pastel colours seen across Provence are here in their multitudes, but instead of narrow little streets, here they decorate vast plazas and long tree-lined boulevards. Like the verdant rolling countryside around it, Aix is abundant with plan trees and cypresses, pine trees and olives, yet those trees cast their dappled light not upon fields, but over the exquisitely decorated facades of churches and palaces, of museums and grand cafes, and over the broad pavements which facilitate the art of strolling along shop-lined avenues. And best of all in Aix are the fountains. Said to be the “City of a Thousand Fountains”, the real number is thought to be closer to 100, but Aix is truly abundant in water, in dancing leaping and trickling water, all caught in the great basins of these baroque fountain sculptures, which are at the centre of every square and street.

Aix’s resplendent fountains…

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No wonder Aix is so magnificent – it was the capital of Provence one upon a time, and today is an international students’ town, full of culture, cafes and a general air of excitement. And of course one of the greatest pleasures about visiting Aix is to indulge in all that excitement on offer, to perambulate along its fashionable streets, and to sit by its many fountains, sipping upon a coffee or cooling down with an ice cream or two – more about that later. But my first priority on visiting this city was to discover its most famous resident, the somewhat reclusive artist but often called the Father of Modern Art – Paul Cézanne.

Cézanne grew up and spent most of his life in Aix. Of course he did make a trip or two to Paris, and it was there that he first discovered impressionism. However, it was in the heartland of Southern France that Cézanne really felt at home, and it was undoubtedly the rugged scenery of Provence and the immediate surroundings of Aix that helped to characterise Cézanne’s development from the dappled light of Impressionist works, to the rugged geometric depictions of his Post-Impressionist oeuvre. The origins of cubism had been born.

Cézanne’s Mont Sainte-Victoire

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Aix, perhaps predictably, relishes its connection with this foremost artistic genius (although sadly it didn’t at the time Cézanne was painting in the city) and today its tourist office provides an excellent and very comprehensive walking tour both through and around the city, picking up on all of the various places of relevance to both Cézanne and his family along the way. Sadly we did not have time to do the whole tour (although I think we may survive not seeing where Cézanne’s mother’s brother’s friend lived), not least because with Aix basking under the reflective glory of nearby Marseille’s status as European Capital of Culture 2013, there were plenty of cultural activities we wanted to pack into our short two-night stay. However, what we did prioritise was two integral aspects of Cézanne’s life and work in Aix: His studio, and the view of Mont Sainte-Victoire itself.

Cézanne’s studio 

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L’Atelier de Cézanne (the studio of Cézanne) is a good 20 minute walk uphill out of Aix, but it’s a walk taking the earnest visitor gradually out into the verdant pastures of suburban Aix, with views of the city growing gradually more impressive as the road rises. The studio itself provides an absolutely fascinating insight into Cézanne. It’s essentially just a one room museum devoted to Cézanne, but not a museum with story boards and animations – this is simply the artist’s studio, with the various props scattered around which he used in his many still life compositions. Of course Cézanne is as much famous for his still life depictions of apples and oranges as he is for the Mont Sainte-Victoire, but those paintings were more often than not depicting fruit clustered around other objects – old pots and bottles, and a broken mannequin.

It was consequently fascinating to walk into the studio and see before you those same objects which have now become so well-known to the art lover through Cézanne’s works. That broken mannequin for example was immediately recognisable from the Courtauld’s Still Life with Cherub, and there too were the skulls from his Pyramid of Skulls. It was also fascinating to see the methods of his work in this studio which still smells of oil paint and turpentine – his tall ladder to work on larger paintings, and a large vertical hole in the wall through which larger canvases such as his Bathers series (which were painted at this studio) could travel in and out. Meanwhile, outside of the little studio house, the overgrown gardens really give the impression of the kind of solitude and reclusiveness which Cézanne preferred to maintain throughout most of his working life.

Still Life with Cherub (1895)

Still Life with Cherub (1895)

The Basket of Apples (1890-1894)

The Basket of Apples (1890-1894)

The Pyramid of Skulls (1901)

The Pyramid of Skulls (1901)

Still Life, draper, pitcher and fruit bowl (1893-4)

Still Life, draper, pitcher and fruit bowl (1893-4)

The Bathers (1898-1905)

The Bathers (1898-1905)

Studio done, and the creative air of Cézanne breathed in deeply, we headed up hill for about another 20 minutes to visit what is now called “Le Terrain des Peintres” – literally Painter’s Ground – said to be the exact spot where Cézanne would go to paint the magnificent view of the Mont Sainte-Victoire. Today, the space takes the form of pleasantly manicured garden, with some reproductions of his paintings set around the walls of the gardens. But other than that, it is a quiet spot, blissfully free from the tourist hoards who frequented his studio, probably because of its distance from the city, and its lack of parking for coaches.

And the view? Just stunning. In that moment, turning around and catching the view of the glorious pastel-shaded mountain rising out of the field-covered horizon, I felt my breath sucked away from me as in this moment of epiphany I felt myself somehow drawn back into an artistic past – a period of artistic revolution, when the dominance of nature was recognised, when shape was reinvented, and when colour rose to the fore. For me, it was a highpoint of this Provençal Odyssey (both physically and metaphorically), the moment when I realised that  a whole century of artistic progression and development owes its dept to this place, to this artist, to the path from impressionism to cubism which he opened up through his genius and his insight, starting as he did so perhaps one of the most important revolutions of all time.

The magnificent Mont Sainte-Victoire

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More information on visiting Cézanne’s studio can be found here.

Provence Odyssey | Saint-Rémy: Les Photos

You’ll excuse the photo overload, but of all the photos taken on my Provence trip, I think Saint-Rémy inspired the very best. Below I enclose 30 more of my favourite shots from this stay of 3 nights in the midst of the Provençal countryside, and as those photos aptly portray, it was a time surrounded by the very best of Mediterranean nature, by the quintessentially French sights of street markets, of savon, and of cafes, and an opportunity to be exposed by the Provençal landscape at its very best.

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I think these photos pretty much stand alone in expressing the unbridled beauty of the region, and of the ravishing colours which met our every gaze. Of all the shots, I think the image of (what looked to be) a Monarch butterfly perched upon a lavender bushel is one of my favourites, the deep terracotta orange and black lace-like overlay resembling a wash of marmalade on toast upon a bed of the most fragrant lavender pillows. And then there were the bees and the cicadas, the buzzing of the former inescapable wherever lavender burst forth, and the chirping of the latter, the intrinsic accompaniment to paradise; the melody that partners a balmy Mediterranean afternoon.

From soft pony faces to the neon cerulean of a sun-dappled swimming pool, old rusty shop adverts to twisted freshly-harvested garlic bulbs, I present to you my third series of Provencal photo collections – Enjoy Saint-Rémy at its best, for we are off to Aix!

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | Saint-Rémy: Day 8 – Picture-Perfect Provence

Much has been said about the surroundings of Saint-Rémy – the startling archeological remains of Glanum on its outskirts, the tranquil beauty of the Hospital of Saint Paul de Mausole, and the incredible beauty of nearby Les Baux – but I have said very little about the little town of Saint-Rémy itself. And it would be unfair not to give this little Provençal gem its fair mention, even though, as perhaps the photos below will demonstrate, the beauty of this town is better illustrated through photos than words.

For Saint-Rémy is one of those picture-perfect little towns about which the guidebooks rave, and the midwinter daydreamer, wrapped up against the cold, can only dream: A town of only 8 or 9 main streets, each winding around a charming central square with a trickling fountain at its centre, and a single local café covering the old cobbles with tables and umbrellas for those seeking solace from the sun. Radiating out from this centre point are clusters of little boulangeries, fish shops and delicatessens, while gift shops sell stylish selections of Marseille soap and bundles of lavender, all wrapped up and ready to go home where their sweet floral scent will imbue even the most dreary of homes with a Provençal perfume.

Saint-Rémy streets

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Between the little boutiques, an impressive selection of high-end galleries are to be found – for Saint-Rémy has built itself a reputation as a rather chic Provençal destination, a town whose souvenir shops sell well-packaged, pastel-toned quality nicknacks of France, rather than the garish trade of lesser towns. And in its restaurants, freshly made cakes and pastries line up in the windows like the latest models of a fashion show, and menus de jour almost sparkle with pumped up prices and all the pomp of the promised culinary show.

Chic boutiques

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Yes, Saint-Rémy is truly a gem of Provence, a town which is small enough to be unspoilt, charming and deeply atmospheric, yet sufficiently well-developed on the tourist map to bear all of the hallmarks of a sophisticated polished holiday destination. We were pretty much enamoured by the town from our first walk through its centre – by the narrow little streets, the delicately perfumed shops, the pastel-coloured shutters, old shop signs and bustling street markets. And on this, our last day in the town, we returned to those now accustomed haunts, once again gazing through the windows of the little boutique shops, enjoying the gentle pitter-patter of water in the fountain outside the town hall, and having a noisette or two (macchiato coffee) in the shady central square.

In short, we had found picture-perfect Provence, and were determined to make the most of it. For later that day, our planned departure would whisk us away once again, voyaging south to our final destination: the city of Aix. But before that, I leave you with some more of my photographic moments. Adieu.

All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | Saint-Rémy: Day 6 – The Grandeur of Ancient Glanum

You join us in the Provençal village of Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, a picturesque little town, at one time home to none other than Vincent Van Gogh, whose insatiable appetite for Provence’s mighty colour palate was more than satisfied by the staggering beauty of these undulating landscapes, peppered with olive trees and cypresses, with fields of golden wheat and others with lavender, and stood in the midst of them all, the towering limestone massif of Les Alpilles, a 24-km chain of mountains between the Rhone and Durance rivers.

Yet while the mighty majesty of the Alpilles mountain range towering above the horizon has the power to hold tourists and artists alike in its all-conquering grip, there is something else set amongst the foothills of this great imposing mountain range which has the power to inspire awe-struck admiration in equal measure: this time a structure built not by nature, but by man, but a structure so ancient and yet still so classically magnificent in all its detail and grandeur that it appears to have defied nature itself. For as it turned out, Van Gogh is far from being Saint-Rémy’s only attraction: For a mere stroll along from Saint Paul de Mausole, where Van Gogh was an inpatient for a year between 1889-1890, are the incredible ancient remains of the Roman town of Glanum, an archeological site which is so comprehensive that it is a rival to Pompeii; an ancient monument so beautiful that it glows like a precious crystal in the midst of the limestone hulk of the Alpilles around it, the vast mountains into which this ancient Roman town appeared to integrate so seamlessly as though nature herself had intended it.

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The gateway to the Glanum remains is pretty startling: a triumphal arch built during the reign of Augustus and the Mausoleum of the Julii, said to be one of the most perfectly intact mausoleums remaining from ancient Rome. Both monuments are brilliant in their complexity and incredibly intact – and yet these imposing structures stand innocuously by the main road from Saint-Rémy to Les Baux, with no cordons, no tickets and no guards. The result is a superb opportunity to interact with the indomitable grandeur of Roman architecture, and to do so quite freely with neither impediment nor cost. And yet it worries me – for how long can these incredible structures remain in their current excellent state of preservation, when they are so unguarded from harm?

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While this magnificent arch, which once formed the Northern entrance to the town of Glanum, was free to see, the remains of the town were not – but such was to be expected from an archeological museum almost as vast as the great remains of Pompeii and Herculaneum. And what they may have lacked in Pompeian decoration, they surely made up for in scale, in the variety of buildings discovered and on view, and in the magnificent setting of this town which, carved literally into the steep sides of the Alpilles must surely be strong competition for Pompeii’s Vesuvius-backdrop.

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Glanum, which today includes monuments aplenty, half-preserved temples, the remains of public baths, the roman forum, and several houses, was built in 27 BC but abandoned in 260 AD when it was overrun and destroyed by the Alamanni. Subsequent floods and weather conditions meant that the abandoned ruins of the town gradually became covered with sediment and mud, and there it lay, undiscovered, until excavations began to rediscover the town in 1921. Now it is one of Provence’s most visited sites, and one can see why. The scale of the find is pretty unique, and the ability to scale the steepsided valley of the Alpilles and see the town from above, with the modern Saint-Rémy in the distance is particularly special.

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We adored Glanum, and for us it provided a much unexpected cultural delight on the outskirts of a little town already proving to be so abundant in sensual delights for the earnest visitor. A hearty slice of history in an area so exuding charm; a man-made ancient monument which so artfully augments the beauty of its celestial natural surroundings.

DSC03591 DSC03612 DSC03644All photos and written content are strictly the copyright of Nicholas de Lacy-Brown © 2013 and The Daily Norm. All rights are reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. 

Provence Odyssey | Saint-Rémy: Day 6 – In search of Van Gogh (Part 2)

As Van Gogh neared the final climax of his prematurely shortened life, his movements around France, and the paintings which resulted, became more and more dominated by his health needs. In May 1889, after his famous ear self-mutilation incident in Arles and the hospital stay which followed, Van Gogh moved to Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, some 20 miles North-East of Arles in the foothills of the Alpilles mountains, in order to voluntarily commit himself into the care of an asylum. That asylum was the hospital of Saint Paul-de-Mausole, set within the tranquil grounds of a former monastery to the south of Saint Remy, and was where Van Gogh set up home, with one room and an adjoining studio, for the next year of his life. Come May 1890, Van Gogh was off again in pursuit of medical assistance, moving to his final destination of Auvers-sur-Oise, this time to be nearer to Dr Paul Gachet. He would be dead some 3 months later.

Despite the nature of what some could see as a mental crisis dictating Van Gogh’s relocation to Saint-Remy, there are two undeniable factors about his stay in the town and the output that resulted. The first is that the asylum and the town to which he relocated are both exceptionally beautiful examples of Provence at its finest. The second is that, understandably, the paintings which resulted from this time are some of Van Gogh’s very best.

Painted in Saint-Rémy…

Wheatfield with Cypresses

Wheatfield with Cypresses

Irises

Irises

Mountainous landscape behind the hospital Saint Paul

Mountainous landscape behind the hospital Saint Paul

The Olive Trees

The Olive Trees

Cypresses

Cypresses

It was consequently to Saint Remy that we proceeded on this third leg of our Provence Odyssey, as much guided by the promise of a pretty mid-countryside town as by the legacy of Van Gogh which seeps into its very foundations. While a stroll around the pretty boutique-filled village proved that the town is abundant with its own Provençal charms, albeit on a far smaller scale than Avignon or Arles before it, it was in pursuance of Van Gogh’s story that we begun our explorations of Saint-Rémy, and the out of town stroll which this trail required.

Unlike Arles, whose exploration of the Van Gogh story left me somewhat wanting (there were postcards sure, and a café mock up on the Place du Forum, but where were the museums, the recreations of paintings, the story?), Saint-Rémy’s small but ample tourist office provides an excellent self-guided Van Gogh walking tour, which takes you out of the village and into the stunning surrounding countryside, in order to visit the Saint Paul-de-Mausole asylum where Van Gogh lived, and see recreations of his many Saint-Rémy based paintings along the route.

Right where he painted it - the Van Gogh walk brings his paintings to life

Right where he painted it – the Van Gogh walk brings his paintings to life

Van Gogh's hospital bed and easel

Van Gogh’s hospital bed and easel

Taking this route, we were delighted with the pastures new before us, strolling as we were along small residential and field-lined roads which we may never otherwise have discovered. While much of the landscape is a little more developed now than it might have been in VG’s day, as we neared the asylum, wide expanses of olive tree-lined fields started to open up before us, and with the wild craggy outline of the Alpilles mountains in the backdrop, and swirly dark cypress trees popping up all over the landscape, it really started to feel as though some of Van Gogh’s most famous landscape paintings were coming to life before our very eyes. For as the little VG walk soon made clear, the artist produced some of his best works in this little town, painting at his swirliest (for example his famous Starry Night and his depiction of cypress trees and swirly leafed olive trees) and his most imaginative.

Painted in the Saint Paul hospital…

Trees in the Garden of the Hospital Saint Paul

Trees in the Garden of the Hospital Saint Paul

The gardens of Saint Paul hospital

The gardens of Saint Paul hospital

The gardens of Saint Paul hospital

The gardens of Saint Paul hospital

Stone Bench in the garden of Saint Paul

Stone Bench in the garden of Saint Paul

Entrance Hall of Saint Paul

Entrance Hall of Saint Paul

And no wonder. As we turned into the high-stone walled gardens of Saint Paul-de-Mausole, filled with multi-coloured flowers moving slowly in the light breeze, I could not help but feel inspired myself. This reaction only grew, as we wandered through the former monastery, gazing in wonder and the beautiful sun drenched cloister, and then, behind the building, the stunningly manicured Provencal gardens, loaded with rows of lavender, sunflowers and poppy fields, creating the kind of floral backdrop which would have had Van Gogh painting feverishly all day long.

The landscapes and the hospital that inspired Van Gogh…

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With only a camera to hand, Dominik and I met our own inspiration through the medium of photography, taking hundreds of photos of the flowers, the lavender, the old monastery and the surrounding landscapes, strolling around the gardens, mesmerized by the scent of flowers, and the low murmuring of hundreds of bees buzzing around the lavender bushes. This was true Provence – the true stunning countryside that the guidebooks had all promised.

Eventually we broke away, not only from the asylum, but also from our Van Gogh trail, for what we found just down the road from Saint Paul was an entirely unexpected, quite stunning historical treat – a find of such exciting archeological proportions that I’m going to devote an entire post to it! For that – see you tomorrow. And in the meantime, I leave you with the lavender, the poppies, the olive trees and the sunflowers that so inspired Van Gogh, and now me in equal measure.

Provence at its finest…

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A demain.

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Provence Odyssey | Arles: Le Dîner – l’Atelier de Jean-Luc Rabenel

We had one of those rather embarassing moments on our second day in Arles when, eager to escape the vigorous Mistral wind and therefore sitting down at the first restaurant we came across with a sheltered position, we found ourselves, upon being handed the menu, faced with prices which were well in advance of our lunchtime budget. Splashing out in the evenings is one thing (you can barely do otherwise with Provence’s prices), but if we were to spend similarly at lunchtime, we wouldn’t be able to pay for a bed for the night. So when we sat down at a table outside l’Atelier de Jean-Luc Rabenel (otherwise translated as the studio of Jean-Luc Rabenel), we quickly discovered that we couldn’t afford it. So what did we do? We ran away! (We did however settle on a cute little cafe just down the street – check out these delicious salads…)DSC02928 DSC02929

This ever so embarrassing escapade may have been bearable, were it not that come the evening, we struggled to find a single decent restaurant which was not a tourist trap anywhere in town, and so decided to return to said restaurant, with our tales between our legs. Luckily none of the waiting staff who had earlier wasted a sparkling water order on us appeared to notice that we were the absconding duo from earlier in the day. Or if they did, they hid it well. Which is what one comes to expect from a quality restaurant, and with two michelin stars to his name, the restaurant of this self-styled artist-chef does certainly did not lack in quality.

Lucky enough to seize upon the last remaining table in the very cute little street – the Rue des Carmes – where the restaurant is located, we could enjoy charming views of old shuttered buildings and grape vines crawling possessively over building facades before we had even gazed upon the visual delight that was the food coming out of Rabenel’s kitchen. To start, neither of us could resist the ice-cold gazpacho, nor did either of us regret the decision to replicate when the dish, artfully presented as a quasi-cocktail on ice with a sprig of rosemary and complemented by a handy straw, was served, alongside mini bruschetta topped by salty serano ham.

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The main course followed swiftly, although for me this disappointed. Sticking to the more economical fixed price menu afforded me less choice for mains, but the fish pie upon which I eventually settled lacked the kind of originality in both presentation and flavour which is to be expected of a michelin star establishment – although the handmade pesto side dish was an indisputable delight. Dominik did better, with a huge pan full of succulent muscles, plunged into a soup-like jus filled with delights such as rustic chorizo sausage and caramalised prawns.

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But as mains paved their way to dessert, another duplicated choice for us both – a chocolate cake with a wonderfully strong vanilla cream, pistachios and berries – again exhibited all of the flourish of fine dining, if it lacked slight the originality which we spoilt London diners come to expect of our michelin stars.

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But over all, the restaurant was a delight and wonderfully situated in a quite Arlesienne street, suitably off the beaten track to avoid the kind of tourist groups pouring into the tacky restaurants claiming to have a Van Gogh connection, and excitingly modern despite the aged charm of its situation.

L’Atelier is part of group of restaurants all belonging to the “cercle rouge” group and situated on the same street. Next door is the Bistro a Coté – the wonderfully animated website of the Alan Sugar lookalike chef is worth a gander in itself.

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