So Concrete and Croissants is out in the world, taking the reader on a voyage through France to visit the important places in Le Corbusier’s life. It was particularly lovely to speak to Jonathan Green on Blueprint for Living about why I’m so interested in Corb’s buildings (you can listen to the interview here) but, really, the book is a love letter to France. Corb’s buildings are simply the fondant on the gâteau.
Releasing the book has certainly thrown me back into a French frame of mind, although it doesn’t take much for that to happen. I often listen to music from French films, from Georges Auric to Alexandre Desplat. When I feel like watching something comforting on a rainy afternoon, then it’s a French film I seek out, the kind where the plot involves friends meeting for lunch and that’s about it. I still trawl the pages of seloger.com, of course, to ooh and ahh over Parisian apartments, cute village houses and Mediterranean villas but, somewhat miraculously, I have found that my life in this corner of New South Wales has become more and more French. Albeit the rose-tinted version of France that foreigners think they’ll get if they live there.
Not only can I access French TV and films on Australian TV stations and streaming networks but I can buy French magazines in my local newsagency (the fashion and interiors ones, at any rate). My local butcher does a great range of charcuterie, a decent boeuf bourguignon and has a great selection of French cheese; I buy saucisson flavoured with herbes de Provence or anise at a stall at the market, and my daily bread has the same chewy consistency and crustiness as the type I buy in France. Many Australian wines have acquired a French lightness, too, with interesting blends of grape varieties, but most places stock a good range of French wines, too. Even bowling along the country lanes around me, I’m often reminded of some of my favourite places in France. I’m getting my French fix in a way I never thought possible in Australia.
But oh, I miss the architecture. The proud and pompous Hotel de Ville in a sleepy town, the glimpse of chateau turrets on a distant hill, the cool stone arcades of a medieval town, and the fancy cast-iron framework of market halls and viaducts. Art Nouveau flourishes here, Art Deco there, and expressions of Belle Époque all over. A brave new modernism, too, that showed a country remaking itself after the flattening of WW2 and the fracturing of its overseas colonies (and Corb’s various housing blocks such fine examples of that).
I miss the sounds of summer swallows and the melancholic reverberation of church bells, the charm of someone calling coucou! to attract another’s attention, the whine of an old Citroen 2CV passing by. So much to love.
Concrete and croissants is out in the world, hopefully enticing someone I don’t know to travel to places they mightn’t have thought of before. But for me, France already is my world. Here and there.
Do you have favourite places you try to recapture at home?
Colin Bisset 
I miss the summer swallows, too. We used to have great swarms of them swooping around to catch insects and nesting in the barns. Now, fewer insects, fewer swallows. My garden is organic, but who knows what goes on outside.
Away from home, my favorite place is a nearby village, Vouvant. Vouvant sees itself as a cultural center which it is, in a pleasant, talented amateur sort of way. It is off the main highway. The grand mairie sits facing the huge Romanesque church, one end of which has become a municipal gallery. Vouvant’s patroness, Mélusine, has a tower on the opposite end of town. There are a few shops selling the work of local artists and artisans. Weekend concerts often feature the church’s recently refurbished organ. Folks keep their houses clean but not pristine, which I love. Good cafes. Flowers everywhere. It can get a bit touristy, but tourists support the locals, so, okay. And the people who live there are often fascinating.
LikeLike
That’s sad to hear. We were in the UK last year and I really noticed the lack of insects, especially bees, even in gardens filled with the ‘right’ plants and flowers. What have we done to our planet? Thanks for introducing me to Vouvant. I can see exactly why it would appeal. I think a proper community is the secret to the success of these places so they don’t become empty shells that look perfect but have no heart (just giftshops) … Incidentally, thank you so much for buying Concrete and croissants. I fear you may have got one of the first copies, which had some formatting issues, so I hope those glitches don’t spoil your enjoyment of it. It was amended quickly, thankfully.
LikeLike