Journal de Provence vol. 5
Bonjour.
On the itinerary today: Chateau La Coste, an expansive outdoor sculpture garden with works by some of the most exciting contemporary installation artists spread out across acres of vineyard on a rolling hillside. After, Aix-en-Provence, another populous city which was founded by the Romans in the first century B.C.
Like most mornings, I peered out across the valley on our way to breakfast and noticed that one of the higher peaks of the Luberon was now snow-capped. I haven't seen any snowfall directly yet, but all manner of trees are shedding their blazing leaves, carpeting the ground in beautiful hues of gold, muted by thin layers of frost that melt away as the day advances.
As has been the case, our drive out of Lacoste to our destination was lovely. Despite the omnipresence of low-hanging clouds during our stay here, I remain in high spirits. Driving through the French countryside and peering out of a fogged window in the back of a van while listening to Phoebe Bridgers and Julia Jacklin renders a very romantic and cinematic experience.
Josh catches our attention by pointing out the signs for Chateau La Coste as we approach our destination. Something along the lines of “Here it is! Alright, we can go back now!”. Thankfully, he was joking-once we arrived at the visitor center and the docent explained the map of the grounds to us, I knew we were on for a treat.
We splintered off into groups as we begun exploring the grounds, stumbling upon a number of mindblowing sculptural works by the likes of Hiroshi Sugimoto, Louise Borgeois, Sophie Calle, Liam Gillick, Tia Thuy Nguyen, and even Bob Dylan while admiring the pastoral landscape framing the inlaid works.
I found my mind wandering to the often-repeated question of “what is art?”, seemingly more pertinent to some of these works which utilize construction methods reminiscent of those utilized by home-builders and contract laborers. What separates their craft, which is sometimes devalued or looked down upon, and these structures before me? In America, why do hundreds of thousands of invisible migrant laborers build roofs over our heads and put food on our table without recognition, while at the same time, these fine artists become globally recognized for what is probably also a group effort dependent on the labor of sometimes many assistants?
I continued to walk through the space, and through a grape orchard which had already been harvested for it's fruit. I found a branch which had seemingly been spared, bearing a single ripe grape. I plucked it and ate it, and it was delicious-bursting with natural sweetness.
As our departure time neared, my classmates and I stopped by the gift shop and winery. I purchased a few commemorative bottles as an ode to that single ripe grape, and I will think about it with every sip I take once I get back home.
A twenty minute drive later, we found ourselves in Aix, an old city with an interesting character-on one hand, main squares and promenades offered up modern stores and boutiques and little christmas markets. There were plenty of themed rides and the smell of warmly spiced desserts was heavy in the air. On the other hand, there were some quirky vignettes to be found-a renault completely covered in bird shit. An outdoor living room of sorts, complete with a couch, some slippers, the paper, and a few bottles of liquor. An old woman dressed as a clown smoking a cigarette and drinking a coffee. A mural of Alfred Hitchcock with the physique of a Greek God. Folks young and old striving for individuality and pursuing bohemian lifestyles amidst something so manicured and highly commercialized. Something about it was very romantic, and very difficult to express in a photographic image.
I had a slice of ham pizza drizzled with truffle oil and it was good. We meandered a bit looking for a camera store that sold film. We found one and I bought a few rolls for surprisingly cheaper than in America. Then we headed back to the vans to depart. On the way, I and a few others had to take a piss-we found a public toilet but it cost a few Euros to use. We only had a few coins between us-suffice to say, I think some of us are closer now.
I nodded in and out of consciousness on the hour-long drive back to Lacoste in the twilight, thinking about that one grape. Once we returned, we gathered in a classroom to play some card games and play on the piano in the corner for a bit before retiring to our dorms and preparing for another full day of travel.
À bientôt.
Jacob
Chateau La Coste
Aix-en-Provence
