A Little History of Modern Montpellier

The stair-step building, officially Tour le Triangle (the Triangle Tower).
Photo by G.Mannaerts — Travail personnel, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=118391102

We recently went on a walking tour of one of the newer parts of Montpellier, known as Port Marianne. The latest area to be developed, it is filled with multi-story apartment buildings, giving an aspect that does not match our romantic (overly romantic?) notion of what France should look like. We took the tour to better understand this new development, and perhaps to update our outdated view of France.

The leader of this tour, a French woman who worked for the tourist office, was the same person who'd lead the tour of Montpellier's Maisons Particulars we took last spring. (Now that was a tour that satisfied our idea of what a traditional French city should be like!)

I liked the continuity (as it were)—we were continuing our discussion of the history of the city!

And indeed, while the tour was billed as covering the newest part of Montpellier, our guide also discussed some of the history leading up to the creation of Port Marianne....

    The Polygone

Modern Montpellier really began after World War II. The city needed a commercial center, and after some years of fluffing around, serious plans were made in 1959. Twenty years later the development known as the Polygone was finished and ready for business. Exciting for some, horrifying to others, the signature buildings today look very much out of place next to the nearby stone constructions of the 18th and 19th centuries.

The highly successful commercial part of the Polygone. Yes, that's the Tour le Triangle on the left.
In the distance straight ahead with the sightly curved roof is the very popular indoor mall.

Under that slightly curving roof are many stores; the popular mall is often crowded.

Particularly obnoxious (to some of us, at least) is the Tour le Triangle, aka the Stair-step Building (L'escalier, as it's known among the French). Innovative in its day, combining a hotel, apartments, and commercial space, it is  "a signature element of the city’s urban panorama." Which, for many of us, means an eyesore on the horizon. 

View from our new apartment of Polygone buildings (hard to ignore!).

The adjacent indoor mall (which has a lower profile) is thriving, although much of the rest of the original development seems unused and abandoned.

The less occupied side of the Polygone...

Lots of space here, but no one seems to want it!   

    And, the Antigone...

By the late 1970s George Frêche was mayor of Montpellier. Known for his dynamic local politics, he had a powerful vision of what he wanted the city to look like.

Trained as a lawyer, he was a professor at the University of Montpellier specializing in Roman Law. As he was quite taken by the Greco-Roman ideal, his vision of the city included a neoclassical touch.

Overview of the Antigone. That's the river Lez, dark and tranquil, on the lower right; the stairstep  building rises in the distance at the upper left. The former military reservation lies in between. Note the bars and restaurants mimicking Greek temples along the Lez; residential apartments occupy the huge curving building behind them.
Photo from alamy—hemis.fr

The result was the Antigone, a very symmetrical and well-ordered complex of buildings with a strong Greco-Roman theme. The buildings are typically four or five stories, mostly residential apartments, with the ground floor reserved for cafes, restaurants, and other businesses.

The dramatic, classical architecture of the Antigone.

The Fontaine Thessalie in  the (wait for it) Place de Thessalie.

Wandering through the Antigone...

...can be very pleasant!

Antigone is a character from Greek Mythology, a Theban princess, who appears in a number of Greek plays, most notably those by Sophocles. So, solidly neoclassical! In English it is pronounced with four syllables, something like an-TIG-o-nee (emphasis on that second syllable!). In French, however, it's pronounced with three syllables: AN-ti-gone.

Pronounced this way, it sounds almost like it could be intended as in opposition to, say, the Polygone—the anti-Polygone. A delicious pun, perhaps, putting down the previous commercial development? That would be perfectly in keeping with the character of M. Frêche, who was never keen on the architecture of the Polygone.

A statue of the Greek god Dionysus (known to the Romans as Bacchus), god of wine and wild uncultivated nature. It's one of many classic statues scattered throughout the Antigone.

An interesting historical tidbit: these property developments were possible because the land on which they were constructed had been preserved as a military reservation. It fact, it had been controlled by the military since the 16th century, during France's wars of religion.

King Louis XIV, the Sun King, was anxious to please the Pope, who carried considerable political weight in Europe in those days. Protestantism had been on the rise, much to the chagrin of the Pope. So, to curry favor,  King Louis began expelling all non-Catholics from France. 

The south of France—the region furthest from Paris—was a hotbed of Protestant activity, especially in the city of Montpellier. To keep an eye on things, the king built a military garrison just outside the city walls. It was this property, originally appropriated by Louis XIV and used by the military ever since, that finally became commercial developments in the 20th century.

Looking towards the Lez. The statue is Winged Victory; or Victoire de Samothrace. Greek, from around 100 BCE. (This is a copy of the original in the Louvre in Paris.)

  

  Port Marianne

Overview of Port Marianne, with the river in mid-ground.
The lake beyond it, on the far right, is surrounded by residential buildings with cafes and shops on their ground floors.
Photo by Elmontpelierano — Travail personnel, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=39188667 

Time passed; the city grew. Community leaders wanted to develop the city in the direction of the Mediterranean Sea, to the south. Detractors of the Antigone development pointed out that it was all urban, with little open space; developers of Port Marianne insisted on a mix of urbanism and nature. This development would have more open space, more parks. Plus the river Lez, and a small lake (the one seen in the photo above).

Some of the newer residential / commercial buildings in Port Marianne.

One question that comes up often (it sure bothered us for a long time!): Where is the Port, where are the boats, in Port Marianne? Well, there aren't any! The original plan called for a marina serving as a base for canal boats. But, due to the rise of the land, getting canal boats all the way up to Montpellier would require several locks which would take an hour or more to transit. And no one really wanted to do that.

So, no port, no boats. But there is that lake, the Bassin Jacques-Cœur (named for a very wealthy 15th century merchant based in Montpellier).

A canal boat base was built, however, but a couple of miles downstream near the small town of Lattes. It was named, rather confusingly, Port Ariane. Sounds very much like "Marianne" without the M. It seems the similarity was done deliberately: the good folks in Lattes are sticking their finger in the eye of Montpellier, as it were, satirizing Montpellier's failed attempt to build a port. There seems to be a good bit of small-town rivalry, with the outlying towns not too keen on the big city of Montpellier.

The new la mairie, or city hall building. Quite controversial when it was built!
(We could never shake the feeling that it was a Borg cube crashed to earth...)

But, from the right angle—such as here, reflecting the setting sun—it can be enticing. It is, in fact, quite a remarkable building.

The idea behind Port Marianne was to provide for four distinct developmental zones (referred to as ZAC in France),  each with its own characteristic style. (I'm glad we were told this, because it's a bit difficult to discern on one's own!)

La Mantilla, named after the traditional lace shawl worn in Spain; an image presumably invoked by the lacy white outer structure of the building.

One of the more remarkable buildings is the Koh-i-Nor, named for the diamond; presumably for the way in which the dichroic glass balconies reflect light.

Seen from across the river, the Koh-i-Nor is quite fantastic.

Some more recent Port Marianne buildings. The plants on the one to the left are watered from the building's gray water (from sinks and bathtubs).

Overall, Port Marianne has become an exercise in innovative architecture. While not every building is astonishing, it is a place open to builders and designers trying out new ideas.

The Cloud Building (aka the pillow).Specially engineered plastic panels form the outer shell.

Overall, it is certainly interesting, and sometimes a bit jarring, to move from Montpellier's center, the Ecusson, with it's "15th century buildings on 13th century foundations" through the oh-so-70s Polygone and into the sharply neoclassical Antigone, ending in the very modern Port Marianne.

We'll be spending Christmas, as we do every year, in Seville, looking up old friends and meeting again with our extended family. But first, we'll spend a week in Rome, just to shake things up a bit. We've got only a few more days here in Montpellier, but we will be back for New Years.

May your holidays be bright and meaningful!

A tree-lined residential "back street" in Port Marianne, showing its fall colors.

Remembering the November 2015 Terrorist Attacks in Paris

The conference center at La Villette hosting the Airbnb Open.

An article in the New York Times reminded me that today, November 13, is the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the Bataclan nightclub in Paris, France. This is, of course, a significant event, but particularly for us because we were there.

No, not at the Bataclan. We were in Paris for the Airbnb Open, a convention organized for Airbnb Super Hosts (those who had consistently excellent ratings from their guests). For several years we had been renting out a bedroom in our house in Los Osos on Airbnb. We are quite thrilled to receive the invitation, although we did have to pay our own expenses.

Still, it was a joy to be in Paris in the fall. Paula had suggested that we stay for a few weeks after the convention to see what Paris was like in the pre-Christmas season. We booked an apartment for five weeks, and settled into it a few days before the conference.

The convention was interesting, if not earth shaking. At the time Airbnb was focusing on how hosts could create an experience for their guests that went beyond a simple place to stay.  In the last session of the conference, on Friday the 13th, we were presented with a view of hosting that emphasized going beyond lodging to building a welcoming experience for the guests, creating connections with our homes and our hearts. We were shown a proposed commercial—which I don't think was ever made public—featuring a child wandering in a home with a voiceover about letting people sleep in your bed and dream your dreams. It was very touching, very human, very open hearted.

Filled with this joy of humanity, we arrived at our apartment in Paris about 10 PM or so.  And for no particular reason, Paula said let's turn on the TV!

We watched in horror as the TV host explained, over and over, about the attacks at the Stade de France football stadium (fortunately not successful), at the Bataclan nightclub, and at various restaurants and shops in Paris. We were horrified! I checked the map and discovered it had happened about a mile from where we were staying. About 2 AM, after watching the same news over and over, we went to bed fully on board with the suggestion from the authorities that we lock our door and stay inside.

The next day, the 14th, was Paula's birthday, normally a joyous occasion. But that day the weather matched our spirits: heavy and gray. We stayed in and washed clothes, festooning them around the apartment to dry. I went out briefly to get some flowers, and found the city very sad with few people out.

Scene of one of the many attacks.
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

The next day, Sunday the 15th, was bright and sunny. The crisis was over and we, like  everybody else in Paris, went out to enjoy the sun and see what was up.

Candles and flowers and signs of support. (Paris, 15 November 2015)

While we were all glad to be out, the mood was not festive. We came upon one crowd around a restaurant that had been attacked. I remember seeing a chair next to the door. Bullet holes in the glass. Sawdust on the ground to soak up the blood. Like a movie set. I could not get my head around the idea of the drive-by shooting that had happened here.

People brought flowers. People brought candles. The feeling was heavy, intense, somber. We moved on, refreshed by the clear sunlight. 

Laying flowers in grief.
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

That afternoon we visited the Place de la République, site of demonstrations after the Charle Hebdo attacks the previous January. (Twelve people were killed at the headquarters of the weekly magazine Charle Hebdo.) There were still some posters commemorating that attack, but now the base of the statue  was covered with flowers, candles, and, most significantly, signs of support.

Place de la République in Paris, with the statue of Marianne, symbol of the principles of the Republic.

At the base of the statue, more flowers and candles and signes of support and defiance.
(Je suis Paris—I am Paris—is a declaration of solidarity.)
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

People around the statue, reading—and leaving—notes of support.
(Paris, 15 November 2015)

Overall it was not a pleasant experience, but certainly memorable. So this posting is in memory of that day, and in memorial to those who died or were traumatized for life by this pointless attack.

And, if you're interested, here's the blog we wrote when it happened, 10 years ago:

click here for that older blog 

The motto of the city of Paris. It translates to something like "tossed but not sunk," referring to boats on the Seine. 
Amd, of course, the city of Paris itself!

Aix-en-Povence & Paul Cézanne

 

The traditional town fountain, in Aix-en-Provence.

Our last blog, here,  continued our trip to Corsica through Italy. This blog follows us to the town of Aix-en-Provence back in France, and a special exhibition about the painter Paul Cézanne.

The drive from Ventimiglia, on the French border, to Aix-en-Provence took only a couple of hours. As the name suggests,  Aix is located in that special region in south-east France know as Provence.  In fact, it is, at least by reputation, the quintessential Provençal city.

Our interest, though, went beyond sightseeing: Aix was the home of the noted painter Paul Cézanne, and the city was hosting a special exhibition of his life and work.

In addition to the town itself, there were three parts to the exhibition that interested us: the Jas-de-Bouffan, Cézanne's home; the studio he built a short distance outside town; and the museum that had gathered his paintings from around the world for this special showing.

Aix-en-Provence

We'd heard of Aix for, well, forever. After all, it's considered the "quintessential Provençal city," to quote our favorite travel author. But we just never got around to visiting it.

Our first stop in any French town is the tourist office, to get oriented and see what's up. Right in front of the office in Aix is this statue of Cézanne, off with his painting gear for a plein air session.

Now that we finally got there we found Aix to be elegant, clean, sophisticated, picturesque; and crowded! Granted, there was this special exhibition, but it was September, traditionally after the summer tourist surge. (Although tourism seems to have expanded into an all-year affair!) Every public square seemed filled, every street thronged. 

The "back side" of the clock tower, Tour d'Horloge. 

Place Richelme, just down the street from the clock tower.

The city is quite charming, with each square seeming to lead to another, equally charming, square. Rick Steves hit it right when he wrote "...its old center offers a postcard-worthy square around every corner." Indeed!

Our favorite patron saint, St. Roch. The train station in Montpellier is named after him! (Also, a church.) We saw him on Corsica, and now again in Aix!

An elegant building on Cours Mirabeau, the "Champs-Elysées of Provence," where the rich and well known of the 17th and 18th centuries would come to see and be seen.
The sign over the door says "Tribunal de Commerce" but who knows what purpose this building serves now!

Dinner time at cafes in the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville.

Eglise Saint-Jean-de-Malte, a 13th century Gothic church right near the Musée Granet.

Bastide du Jas-de-Bouffan

Paul Cézanne's father was a hat maker, and later a banker. His wealth enabled him to acquire a bastide, or county home, just outside of Aix. Paul grew up here, and later inherited the property when his father died. It was given the name Jas-de-Bouffan, perhaps a reference to a sheepfold (jas, in the Provencal language) owned by a Monsieur Bouffan which previously occupied the site.

A traditional (and so very French!) allée leading up to the house.

Our visit started with a walk through the grounds, where easels with reproductions of Cézanne's paintings were set up on the site where they had been painted. It was interesting to compare Cézanne's view—his painting—with the real thing today. Once inside we were lead through the various rooms, with a guide explaining the significance.

View of the main house, with a reproduction of Cézanne's paining.

Another painting (reproduction), of the pool.

Paul had apparently shown some aptitude at an early age, as he decorated the walls of the salon (living room) with his paintings of landscapes and portraits. These works were never destroyed; later, when he'd become famous (mid-20th century) they were carefully removed from the walls and preserved. This was explained to us while we were in the salon of Jas-de-Bouffan, with the paintings projected onto the walls. It was a real "you are there" moment!

Inside the house, in the salon, our guide talks about Paul's early paintings on the walls of the house (here reproduced by projecting the images on the now-bare walls).

Two more of Paul's early works from the walls of the house.

We also saw his bedroom and the kitchen, where the staff prepared meals from the food grown on the  farm next door, also owned by the family (and which is also still there, although no longer a working farm!).

The kitchen food preparation area: that's for warming food, the cooking oven was outside (much better on a hot summer's day!).

Kitchen table, and the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

Kitchen window, and a real French country sink.

And, finally, the studio his father had built for him on the top floor, with large north-facing windows for illumination.

Tall, north-facing windows in Cézanne's studio at Jas-de-Bouffan.

That's the farm back there that provided much of the family's food (and the peasants Cézanne often used as models). The buildings are still kept up but it is no longer a farm.)

      

The Studio

After the death of his father Cézanne sold the bastide and built a studio north of town. The studio has been preserved, and was part of the exhibition. So, of course, we had to visit it.

A photograph of Paul Cézanne in front of one of his paintings. (1904)

The studio and its surrounding property was just a bit outside the city—all uphill! Halfway there we began to regret our decision to walk to it.

But we made it, and were glad we did. The studio preserves many of the items found in his still life works, including a small statue and a vase.

It sat empty for long after his death, but this is how the studio probably looked when he was using it.

The statue of the boy, the blue ginger pot, and the green vase are all elements seen in various of Cézanne's still lifes.

He only had this studio for six years before his death (in 1906), but did some of his most significant works here.

The large, north-facing window in the studio lets in plenty of light.

Models of human skulls, similar to the ones Cézanne used in some of his works.

During his lifetime Paul Cézanne was not well appreciated in Aix. In fact, the director of the local museum, Musèe Granet, categorically stated that no work by Paul Cézanne would ever be displayed. Ironically enough, this was the museum that hosted the recent Cèzanne exhibition!

Immediately after his death no one really knew what to do with the studio. It was closed up and left untouched. Eventually an American donor  bought and preserved it.

Paul Cézanne leaving his studio.
The caption reads:
PAUL CÉZANNE DEVANT L'ATLIER DES LAUVES 1906

The Museum

The final part of our exploration of Paul Cézanne and his works was a visit to the Musèe Granet, which had borrowed Cézanne's works from other museums and private collectors around the world. The collection, in roughly chronological order, gave a good overview of his works and his development as an artist.

Jas-de-Bouffon, the family home in Aix. Looks just like that now! Oh, except for the landscaping.

"Man in a Blue Smock"
Cézanne often used the peasants who lived on the farm next door as models.

La Table de cuisine; aka "Still Life with Fruit Basket"
Painted in the studio just outside Aix. Some of the items in this painting are still in the studio. (But, ah, not the fruit!)

Cézanne's contemporaries were the impressionists, with whom he studied in Paris. But impressionism was of little interest to Cézanne. His still life paintings, with the objects looking a bit unsettled and almost tumbling off the canvas, are seen as an introduction to cubism. So, Cézanne is considered one of the first "modern" painters.

The skulls. Similar to the ones we saw in the studio.

Not part of the museum exhibit! A poster for a film on Cézanne.
He's depicted in plein air, painting one of his favorite subjects, Mont Sainte-Victoire. Visible from outside his studio, it figured in some 80 of his paintings.

We enjoyed the city of Aix-en-Provence, and will no doubt come back again. We also learned quite a bit about Paul Cézanne, both as an artist and personally. Overall,it was a very satisfying visit!

Whew! That's the end of our trip through Corsica, Italy, and Aix. We're settling in to Montpellier for the fall; our next planned excursion will be to Rome in mid-December, and Seville for Christmas. Although our next blog may well be on architecture in Montpellier; we're learning some fascinating things about the growth of the city.

"The Card Players," one of Cézanne's most famous works. It's the final in a series of paintings of two men playing cards.
The models for the men were workers from the surrounding area. The man with the pipe has been identified as the gardener at Jas-de-Buffon.