House & Garden – Dec 1975
DIRK BOGARDE’S RETREAT IN THE ALPES MARITIMES
SIX YEARS ago, when he was in the middle of the myriad happenings attending the planning of Death in Venice, Dirk Bogarde bought the retreat shown in these pages: a farmhouse high in the Alpes Maritimes, that remote area which forms the still comparatively unknown hinterland to the glittering and crowded Riviera.
He is one of the few actors who really do like getting away from the limelight, a fact amply confirmed by the situation of his retreat, only approached by a steady uphill climb I along a rough private path, sharp and steep in places.
Once there, the visitor is in an idyllic setting, for the house is surrounded by hundreds of olive trees clinging to the terraced slopes. The magnificent, panoramic views encompass the hills through which the visitor has made his way, now sloping gently down towards the sea which is some two thousand feet below; the ancient pantiled rooftops of the houses of Grasse away to the west, and to the east, towards St Raphael and St Tropez, almost the whole range of the Esterel mountains. Only someone genuinely wanting escape would put down roots in such a spot.
The farmhouse was built in 1641 – the date is roughly incised on a boulder beside the front door and, with its long, low, honey – toned facade, is typical of the Provencal region. Typical, too, is the fact that the three storeys once housed cattle on the ground floor, fodder and olives on the top floor, leaving the middle floor for the use of the farmer and his family. The hoist that once raised sacks to the top floor remains as a tribute to those travails of yesteryear.
Although most summer visitors are apt to think of Provence as a perennially sun-drenched land, winters can be as hard as those in the Scottish Highlands. Hence the three-foot thick walls of local tawny stone. One French family had owned the property since the seventeenth century. During more recent decades the two upper floors had been made habitable, although the ground floor had been left much as it had been throughout three centuries. A few years ago, however, the cow-house and sheep byre had been roughly rendered and floored to make a studio for the previous owner’s work as a sculptor; another part of the ground floor had been converted to a small kitchen-cum-living-room. Indeed, the fireplace has been retained and has been embodied as a feature in the most recent transformation.
At the heart of this transformation was Dirk Bogarde’s determination to combine the three ground-floor areas into one vast living-room over fifty feet long. The only snag was that the three rooms were on different levels with dividing walls some four feet thick. Inevitably, in lengthy brooding over the problem, he decided that skilful arching would prove the only practical solution. Such arches are to be seen in many farmhouses in the South of France, but rarely to achieve so spectacular a room. In order to avoid a tunnel effect, the two arches were infiltrated, as it were, asymmetrically within the area, and the dramatic effect heightened by making one arch slightly smaller than the other. Fortunately, the ceiling level throughout was the same so that the three levels have a distinctly unified spatial theme.
Leon Loscheller, a well-known local architect, was commissioned to provide the necessary practical underpinning to these plans and to provide the technical know-how for such sizable structural changes. He supervised the transition without in any way diminishing the essential character of the farmhouse, an insistent part of the brief from his client. The house is one of the few in Provence that, in conversion, has lost none of its regional qualities: here are no doors and windows wholly unsympathetic to local style and proportion.
Apart from the invaluable contribution made by the architect, Dirk Bogarde also co-opted the advice of the owners of the Auberge de la Colombe d’Or at St Paul de Vence, renowned for their imaginative work in restoration and decoration as well as for their art collection. Many hours were spent considering details of plasterwork, woodwork and so on. Two large doors were made into windows without altering the lintels, thus introducing a soft southern sunlight. On the other hand, a series of openings to the north were blocked up without any detrimental effect to the elevation. Not only was the house made warmer but more picture-hanging space was made available for a collection which includes modern paintings by Rosoman, Nicholson, Schiele, Bratby and others, as well as paintings and engravings of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
All these changes demanded a delicate combination of trust and supervision, for during the making of Death in Venice, Dirk Bogarde could foresee no possibility of a visit from the Italian location. The actor handed his architect a rough sketch of how he envisaged the main room in its ultimate form, the positioning and dimensions of the arches plainly being of paramount importance. In the event, one flying visit by the actor was possible and all was well on the way to success. Only one modest delay marred the scene: the two upper storeys were still in the khaki tones and taste of the previous owners and this was August, traditional holiday of French workmen! But the local craftsmen moved into determined action and the whole interior was painted within ten days. Furniture from England arrived as they were putting finishing touches on the walls: only unpacking and arranging remained to be done. Even the conversion of a small top floor bedroom into a bathroom had been successfully carried out. Now all is complete. The domain, extending to some sixteen acres, is basically a series of terraces on a south-facing slope. Behind, to the north, an oak-covered crag protects the house from the cold winter Tranontane wind. There is no Beverly Hills pool, but a large garden reservoir has been given a blue interior and is deep enough for any heat-wave plunger. Hedges of lavender, rosemary and oleander have been planted and large clumps of white anthemis abound around the house.
All in all, quite a place in which to get away from it all.
