Song of the World and Return to the Castle

I've decided I should be better about checking the temperature and general weather conditions before going outside. Not that I'll actually change my habits, I'm just acknowledging the fact that I could be better at it. Take this morning for example. You'd think that since it had been warm for a couple of weeks now and the birds were singing and the sun was shining brightly that spring and warmth would be on their way, right? Wrong. It was negative 4 degrees Celsius this morning and I really could have used a couple more layers, plus hat and scarf. Thankfully, I keep gloves in my coat pockets, but all the same I booked it to school.

Over the weekend Sarah and I visited the Musée de Jean Lurçat et de la Tapisserie Contemporaine (Contemporary Tapestries). It’s located within the Hôpital Saint-Jean which was a hospital built in the late 12th century in the “Plantagenet” Gothic style. (Honestly, I had no clue what the “Plantagenet” Gothic style even meant, so I looked it up and basically it’s an English variant of classical Gothic architecture…think Chartres cathedral.) As for Jean Lurçat (1892-1966), he was responsible for the tapestry’s renaissance in the 1930s. He was greatly influenced by Cubism, Surrealism, and the horrors of World War I; he was a contemporary of Picasso and Matisse.

After a visit to the Apocalypse Tapestry of Angers (discussed in an earlier blog), Jean Lurçat created his own interpretation of the masterpiece: “Le Chant du Monde” (the Song of the World). The 10 tapestries took about ten years to weave and are approximately 15 by 40 ft. These tapestries are highly symbolic and consist of vibrant images on a black background. The colors were really quite extraordinary. I wasn’t allowed to take pictures, (or rather in the process of taking a picture, I was told by a rather menacing lady that it wasn’t allowed) but that’s ok because the pictures couldn’t possibly do the tapestries justice. Even the postcards they were selling couldn’t capture the brilliancy of the colors.

One of my favorite tapestries was called, “Liberté.” It was based off of Paul Éluard’s poem of the same name and was not part of “Le Chant du Monde.” I just recently studied Éluard so I was thrilled to recognize his verse woven in tapestry (more on Éluard later). I also liked Kirsten Blasbrook’s work, “The Story Retold.” It was really easy to tell what it was about, essentially the story of Genesis, but the best part was that Blasbrook had woven runes into the sides of the tapestry which spelled out, “Miracle of Life.” (Runes are stick-like characters that form the basis of the ancient Germanic alphabet that was used prior to the adoption of our modern day Latin alphabet.) Ok so I’m guessing the existence of runes in modern art might not mean much to you and might sound pretty boring, but it meant a lot to me because in seventh grade I taught myself how to read and write in runes. Long story short, runes are awesome.

On Sunday, I returned to the castle because it was the last time it would be free. (I lied when I said the museums are free every first Sunday of the month. Apparently this is only during the low season. And the high season is just starting.) I made a second trip to the gift shop and considered buying some chain mail, but it’s really, really, really heavy (gosh I feel bad for knights and their horses) and it was over 200 euros. So I took a picture instead.

Also one of my friends dropped his phone into the moat, but not to worry, as I mentioned earlier, the moat had been transformed into a garden. The only difficulty was retrieving the phone because of A) the walls—which are about twenty feet high and B) the gate. The walls were a no-go, but what’s a gate to a nimble college student? It wasn’t until after he climbed over the gate that the real trouble started. Suddenly, arrows started flying from out of nowhere, the clang of battle could be heard from within, and the shouts of the castle guard rose above the melee warning that … alright, so that didn’t exactly happen, but it was rather anticlimactic after he hopped the gate—no one even yelled at him to keep off the grass. However, it does raise the question of how invaders did their invading, especially since the castle walls surrounded the entire city of medieval Angers and extended across the river even. When it was bombed by Allied forces in World War II the ramparts were damaged, but I have no idea how medieval attackers would even begin to take down such a formidable fortress.

Reporting in from Angers, France,

Heidi

Tapestry 1: 'Champagne' from "Chant du Monde"
Tapestry 2: A glimpse of "Chant du Monde"--they never said you couldn't take pictures from the outside looking in...
Tapestry 3: 'Le Vent ou l'Orage' (Wind or storm) not part of "Chant du Monde"
Tapestry 4: central portion of 'Liberte' also not part of "Chant du Monde"
Tapestry 5: 'Naissance du Lansquenet' (birth of Lansquenet, aka German mercenaries) --it says Guernica on there, Picasso anyone?
Medieval map of Angers--the chateau is only the small little castle at the very top on the left side of the river

Châteaux de la Loire 3: Chambord

Chambord was our final destination and it was by far the most impressive building I have ever seen. It is 156 meters long (512 ft), 56 meters high (184 ft), and has 426 rooms, 282 chimneys and 77 staircases—over one room for each day of the year—and its park and game reserve are surrounded by France’s longest wall (30 kilometers or 18.5 miles).

Chambord’s exterior and double helix staircase were jaw-droppingly stunning. Some people believe that Leonardo da Vinci is responsible for designing the staircase, though it has never been confirmed. But I have to say the most marvelous feature was the roof. Walking around the roof was like stepping into another city. As you can see from the skyline of the château, the roof really does resemble a small village placed on top of a building.

The interior was also impressive and many of the fireplaces were actually lit. (Thank goodness! It would have been absolutely freezing without those fires because it had just gotten colder on account of the rain.) My favorite room here was the Apartment de Parade. The furnishings were sumptuous and the gold ornamentation emblazoned on the white walls was spectacular.

The carriage rooms displayed five or six different carriages as well as a gargantuan clock that used to be on the façade of the building. There was also a special exhibit on Chambord as a hostage of war from 1939-1945. It was during World War II that art collections from the Louvre and other museums were stored at Chambord.

When I say this castle was incredible, it was. And the most incredible thing is that it was only a hunting lodge. A hunting lodge?! You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously, this architectural monster was definitely not my idea of a quaint hunting lodge, but then, I’m not King Francis I. In 1519, Francis I decided he wanted something in the Italian Renaissance style and decided to convert Chambord from the medieval fortress it was, into what it is now. He never saw his project completed (and during his 32 year reign, he stayed at Chambord a grand total of 72 days), but his son King Henry II, who was an equally passionate hunter, transformed it into what it is today. I also thought it was neat that the exiled King of Poland, Stanislaus Leszczynski lived here from 1725 to 1733, but that’s mostly because he’s Polish and so am I.

Even though I thought Chambord was the most beautiful architecturally, I have to say that my favorite of the three châteaux was definitely Chenonceau. It would absolutely be my first recommendation to anyone wondering which castle they should visit. My second pick would be Chambord because it was beautiful, but I felt it lacked a soul, if that makes sense. We took a vote on the bus and one person liked Azay-le-Rideau best, about 15 liked Chenonceau and the rest, about 44, liked Chambord.

At this point, it’s possible you may be wondering what I think of the Château d’Angers now that I’ve seen some truly exquisite castles. I can happily tell you that the Château d’Angers still remains one of my favorites. Of course, it was my first castle sighting and I still think it’s beautiful for the raw power its walls suggest. And unlike the other castles, it best served its intended purpose which was to keep invaders out. (I still can’t get over the fact that Chambord was intended to be a hunting lodge.)

These were truly chouettes châteaux.

Heidi

P.S. Chouette means cool, great or neat.

Châteaux de la Loire 2: Chenonceau

Second on the list was Chenonceau. Chenonceau is definitely the castle I would pick to live in; it was by far the most comfortable and the grounds were the prettiest. It is known as the Châteaux des Dames, or Ladies’ Castle, for all the queens and mistresses who have lived there. Really I’m not being sexist or anything, but I think you can tell that a woman had a hand in its design because it doesn’t dominate the landscape like other castles I’ve seen. Rather, its situation on the Cher River, a tributary of the Loire, creates a harmony between the breathtaking splendor of the castle and its natural surroundings.

Leading up to the castle is a long driveway, with trees on either side of the road. The grounds include two gardens on each side of the château, one designed by Diane de Poitiers, the other by Catherine de Medici, as well as an old 16th century farm, wax museum, labyrinth, caryatides and chapel. Inside, the many rooms house numerous paintings by Reubens, Riguad, Tintoretto, Van Dyck, Van Loo, Veronese, Poussin, hundreds of ancient tapestries and grand furniture. Truly, the interior was unparalleled in beauty.

Each of the rooms are named after its occupants. The most famous of these rooms is the Chamber of Five Queens and its inhabitants were the daughters and grand-daughters of Catherine de Medici: Queen Margaret (wife of Henry IV), Elizabeth of France (wife of Philip II of Spain), Mary Stuart (wife of Francois II), Elizabeth of Austria (wife of Charles IX), and Louise of Lorraine (wife of Henry III).

Another of the rooms was outfitted entirely in black after Louise of Lorraine was widowed. The only disappointment during the entire day was that the façade was being renovated: The château would have been even more remarkable had it not been under construction.

The most fascinating thing about this castle was its history. It was constructed in the 16th century by Thomas Bohier and his wife Katherine Briçonnet. Then, it was given by King Henry II to his mistress, Diane de Poitiers, who was 20 years his senior. However, Henry II was married to Catherine de Medici who was obviously annoyed by her husband’s favoritism because after his death she forced Diane to give her the castle, even though Diane and Catherine are actually descended from the same family.

Gabrielle d’Estrees, mistress of Henry IV, the king who declared “Paris is worth a mass,” was also mistress of Chenonceau. During the Enlightenment, Madame Louise Dupin became its mistress and entertained famous philosophers like Voltaire, Montesquieu, and Rousseau. Madame Dupin also saved the chapel from destruction during the French Revolution by turning it into a wood store and is said to have changed the castle’s name by dropping the royal “x” at the end of “Chenonceaux” to please the local villagers.

During World War I, Chenonceau became a hospital ward and during World War II, it was the divide between Nazi territory and the “free” Vichy zone. In 1988, Prince Charles and Lady Diana stayed here for a time. With that said, I think that Châteaux des Dames is a very fitting title for Chenonceau.