Went to see Le Thoronet abbey, today. It was something I had been looking forward to for a long time. There are three Cistercian abbeys in the Provence left. We visited Senanque numerous times, but we always missed the time when the lavender was in full bloom, the picture you see on many Provence tourist guides. Didn’t matter. It was well worth the visit all three times.
One time I biked over there, with my dutch 3-gear bike. It was proof that there was life after death, if I ever needed any. Julie and Claire drove up, didn’t grasp what amazing experience I just had and blabbed on about whatever mothers and ten years old blab on. Probably even more existential than my experience, but the two worlds shall never meet, I am convinced of that by now.
Whatever.
Le Thoronet, it was going to be this time. Somehow I have a memory of reading that this was Le Corbusiers favourite building. If I was a tourist guide I would scream this out. Le Thoronet – the Birthplace of Modern Architecture. But no mention of Le Corbusier. There were architecture guides provided, but the assortment of books wasn’t different from, for example, Silvacane abbey – which was delightful, but not as perfect as Le Thoronet – which made me feel the gift shop people were missing an opportunity.
On a whole different matter. Silvacane abbey is almost impossible to find. The French are completely unreliable in signposting – approaching this art as a kind of cards game where it is completely justifiable to hide ones trump cards – but the road to Silvacane is paved with much more hurdles than imaginable. We couldn’t even find the abbey when we were passing it.
Le Thoronet is easy to find. It is up a mountain of course, these Cistercians were looking for a little bit of challenge or a little bit of privacy, but then there is a clear sign to a parking lot. Empty today, which adds to the the experience one wants to have of these abbeys: silence, solemnity, dignity.
It started at the the little fountain we saw, walking out of the souvenir shop/entree. A simple round pool with a little fountain in the middle. It wasn’t spurting out water, but just dribbling a little. It caused the most perfect expanding circles. Magical to look at. And then they turned on the fountain. Mistakes happen.
We looked around and enjoyed it. The weather is funny these days here in the Provence. The nights are cold and it seems like the soil under our camper van never gets above freezing point – which it really might not. But the sky is blue and the sun is bright and might easily get a temperature of 17/18 (high 70’s). But then, the water in the campground pool is still frozen (a little), but the temperature of the jacuzzi was up to 37,5 degrees today, heaven.
It is cold and warm, depends where you are during the day. In the evening and night it is just plain cold, although our heater distributes an illusion of warmth. (Did I tell I fixed the toilet flush!)
I sat down to draw Le Thoronet. My skills are unmentionable (why do it then) but today even Julie – always the one to see the positive – admitted there was something wrong with perspective. ‘You almost always get that right’. But then, I was sitting in the shadow to get the most decent perspective and even after 20 minutes of drawing my whole body was almost stiffened. Funny you don’t realize those things while attempting to be busy.
Le Thoronet has something that Bach has, or what the mathematical equations of Frederic have. They comfort you in the assurance that this is close to perfection. The measurements of Le Thoronet are pure harmony. Of course you can not see that from the outside, but you can feel it from the inside. I am rewriting the top 10 to visit while in France: Le Thoronet is in it, Fontfroide is out.
I kind of feel like visiting it again, already. One can not get enough of a good thing. And this is one of the best.
Mary says
You are making me wish I were there! even in the cold..