Designer provokes ire of villagers after calling them unintelligent bumpkins

Fashion and art always went together like butter and toast. But imagine fashion and art marching hand in hand with le Marquis de Sade and Lacoste! And Pierre Cardin

One of the fashion world’s controversies involves Mr Pierre Cardin and his interest for a particular cultural patrimony – le village Lacoste from France.

The small village (under 500 people) was properly invaded by Mr Cardin: he bought Marquis De Sade’s castle ruins (remember the impressive Wind Pavilion we talked about months back?) and many from the village’s houses. (more information and pictures right after the jump!)

Mr. Cardin’s interest for controversial cultural patrimony also extended in Italy, Venice where he bought Casanova’s palazzo. Entre de Sade and Casanova, Pierre Cardin was slammed by the public opinion for his Lacoste interest.

Lacoste is still divided between those who feel fortunate to have Pierre Cardin interest upon them (and their humble houses that sold some for three times their market value) and the decrepit village now getting back to life.

Some, on the other hand, still feel the communist blood running through their veins ( Lacoste was a communist stronghold decades ago) and blame Cardin for acting like a predator, deciphering his actions as being the manners of a “seigneur”, feudal landlord with no respect and appreciation for the locals.

Lacoste is one of those marvelously inspiring places from the charming French Provence that could be both blessed and cursed by their beauty and artistic vibrations.

Pierre Cardin’s wish, to transform Lacoste into the “St. Tropez of culture” started with buying the legendary castle’s ruins, building and installing a concert/theatre arena for The Festival of Lacoste (taking place from the last week of July throughout August of every year), continued with buying 20 local houses (that until last year, who knows if he doesn’t own the entire village by now).

The true artists, bohemians dedicated to their dreaming ways spend their time either studying in the prestigious Lacoste School of the Arts (founded in 1970) either drinking wine out and about in the magical Provencal village.

The Cardin-Lacoste controversy touched a media-maximum last year but Mr. Cardin’s burning desire to transform the small village into a cultural (and tourism) heaven could only accelerate while he piles up the years. Morally questionable, Mr Cardin’s Lacoste interest could benefit or destroy Lacoste?

(you can read more about Lacoste here, about le Marquis de Sade here, about Pierre Cardin here) (via)

Bernard’s story is longer and broader than most of the students there could have imagined. I didn’t learn the specifics of the School’s founding until the 2nd or 3rd time I was there, but Bernard had been a veteran, hanging out in Paris on the G.I. Bill during the mid- to late-50′s participating in a circle in that included Brancusi and one or two other American surrealists.

Because of his fascination with the Surrealists, Bernard beat a path to Lacoste during the early ’50′s because of De Sade’s connection to the Surrealists. Arriving in Lacoste via Paris and New York, Bernard likely had more available cash than the average paisan, which is why he was able to strike a Real Estate deal with the locals so easily. Bernard was able to purchase the Boulangerie, his house and the garden tract that has the print-shop, the Garden and the Chapel where the kitchen and whatnot were — for 3 refrigerators.

Of course, it’s my fascination with Claude Berri and his ‘Jean De Florette‘ (1980)/’Manon des Sources‘ (1986) cycle of Provençal films that has me imagining Bernard hauling those 3 refrigerators up the hill from Lumières on a string of mules or as some perilous truck-ride, as in Clouzot’s ‘ Wages of Fear‘ (1953) — but that’s just the film buff in me.

Apparently Bernard’s initial idea was to create a fashion school for his new wife, the socialite Maxime de la Falaise a French-by-marriage British woman who was part of Dior’s inner-circle in the ’50′s.

Of course, the marriage fell apart — whether due to either partner’s dalliances or Maxime’s longing for a bigger, more fashionable town is anyone’s guess. While Lacoste certainly wasn’t Paris, it was still an hour from Marseilles, and even that was a backwoods at that point. Lacoste and the Vaucluse were not a destination for les BCBGs until the mid-’80′s when the hippies who used to summer there got wealthy and bought property — thus, John Malkovich, Leonard Cohen and Ridley Scott.

By the early ’70′s, Bernard’s fashion-school marriage had failed and it was only a slight bit of  inspiration to turn it into an art school, since he still had connections at his alma mater, the Cleveland Institute of Art, Sarah Lawrence College and connections in NYC.

When I was a staff assistant in Lacoste during the late ’80′s, me and one of the other assistants found a cache of Bernard’s memorabilia in a cave nearby the Office, next to the Boulangerie. At the time, we didn’t know that de la Falasie was British by birth, or that she was still alive. We couldn’t help but imagine that Pfreim had lured her to Provençe and put an end to her if only to finance his school. Twisted, yes, but I blame the rash of movies based on Patricia Highsmith novels, set in the region ‘(Cry of the Owl‘ (1987),’Purple Noon‘ (1960, adapted from The Talented Mr. Ripley), pub. 1955) that came out during the mid-’80′s.

< Designer provokes ire of villagers after calling them unintelligent bumpkins

The Guardian, Saturday June 7 2008
Angelique Chrisafis in Lacoste

Perched on a hill overlooking a valley of cherry trees and vines, the tiny medieval village of Lacoste is a fantasy of tranquil, peasant life. Peter Mayle wrote his bestselling A Year in Provence from a ramshackle house nearby; Tom Stoppard settled in a cottage near the belfry; and John Malkovich likes to practise his French at local markets. Only the imposing, half-ruined castle that once belonged to the Marquis de Sade hints at a darker truth of the feudal rulers who for centuries lorded it over the villagers in this south-eastern corner of France.

But de Sade’s chateau, said to have inspired the gothic settings for his novels of sexual perversion, is at the centre of a different outrage: its new, rich owner is accused by villagers of trying to take over as a self-styled feudal lord.

Pierre Cardin, the millionaire Paris fashion designer and businessman who has spent millions restoring the castle, is trying to turn the village into a “St Tropez of culture”. After establishing his own music festival, he has started buying up scores of cottages and buildings in the village of 430 people.

The ageing couturier says he wants to “leave his mark” by turning Lacoste into a refuge for world artists, complete with luxury hotels, a top restaurant, a de Sade cafe and a piano bar. But a growing group of villagers warn that his plans are ruining this Provençal community.

Lacoste, once a Protestant and later a communist stronghold, is no stranger to rebellion. Campaigners have already gone to a tribunal to stop Cardin building a Greek amphitheatre in the local quarry. But the row escalated this week after Cardin insinuated in a TV interview that his village opponents were bumpkins who didn’t understand his great vision. They now call him an egotistical “invader” bent on killing village life.

On the tiny square at the top of winding cobbled streets, 85-year-old Cardin steps out of his black BMW in designer glasses and a tweed waistcoat, on his weekly inspection of his rural empire. Rue de Basse, the tiny, main village street now hosts 12 building sites bearing Cardin’s name. He has bought more than 20 houses and owns almost the whole quaint and winding street. The newspaper shop has his name over the door, he has built two galleries, a boulangerie, a boutique and plans a restaurant and two hotels. He owns two castles, employs dozens of people on his projects, and a van emblazoned with “Pierre Cardin perfumes” can be seen regularly climbing the hill.

“I’m happy here,” he told the Guardian. “I just want to make the village beautiful”. He declines to comment on the outrage caused when he recently likened himself to a “seigneur” and said that while other rich people gamble or collect stamps “I collect houses”.

In the Café de France, a group of angry villagers, including artists and teachers, warned of a “predator”. They said Cardin sometimes paid double the price for old stone buildings, once offering €1m to a couple for their house worth €300,000. “This village is fragile, it has an ageing population, our school has around 30 children; we just want to ensure young couples can afford to live here and keep the place alive,” said Bruno Pierret, a jurist who stood with a group of leftwing candidates on an anti-Pierre Cardin ticket at recent local elections. His group did not get elected but they continue to lobby the mayor to closely monitor Cardin’s moves. At a public meeting this week, more than 20 villagers decided to launch a fresh petition and letter-writing campaign. Eliane Ferres, a retired teacher whose father was the last communist mayor of Lacoste said: “He treats us like “natives” and has a complete disdain for people not of his milieu. He has no right to say he saved the village when in fact he’s sucking out its soul.”

Most approve of Cardin’s much-needed work to restore de Sade’s castle. But the international artists who settled here from the 1950s and 1960s laugh off the idea that Cardin alone is bringing in culture. “Artists and writers have long settled in Lacoste,” said Inge Boesken Kanold, a German painter. Previous residents include Andre Breton and Max Ernst.

Genevieve Recubert, a teacher, said: “I’m scared he will change the face of the village forever.” Yves Ronchi, a local wine-maker, who founded the Association for the Harmonious Development of Lacoste to monitor Cardin’s expansion, warned: “Since the Middle Ages, this has been a feudal place where villagers were not treated as equal; that has produced a local mentality of deference, of bowing down to landowners. That’s what’s happening now.”

One of Cardin’s right-hand men running the Lacoste project said: “He sees himself as a patron, he gives without asking for anything in return. He doesn’t look to buy. People say: ‘Pierre Cardin, I would like to sell my house’. He has brought a dying village back to life.”

Cardin seems hurt by the outrage in Lacoste, but he is also an ageing man in a hurry to realise his dream. –>

The Guardian, Saturday June 7 2008
Angelique Chrisafis in Lacoste

Perched on a hill overlooking a valley of cherry trees and vines, the tiny medieval village of Lacoste is a fantasy of tranquil, peasant life. Peter Mayle wrote his bestselling A Year in Provence from a ramshackle house nearby; Tom Stoppard settled in a cottage near the belfry; and John Malkovich likes to practise his French at local markets. Only the imposing, half-ruined castle that once belonged to the Marquis de Sade hints at a darker truth of the feudal rulers who for centuries lorded it over the villagers in this south-eastern corner of France.

But de Sade’s chateau, said to have inspired the gothic settings for his novels of sexual perversion, is at the centre of a different outrage: its new, rich owner is accused by villagers of trying to take over as a self-styled feudal lord.

Pierre Cardin, the millionaire Paris fashion designer and businessman who has spent millions restoring the castle, is trying to turn the village into a “St Tropez of culture”. After establishing his own music festival, he has started buying up scores of cottages and buildings in the village of 430 people.

The ageing couturier says he wants to “leave his mark” by turning Lacoste into a refuge for world artists, complete with luxury hotels, a top restaurant, a de Sade cafe and a piano bar. But a growing group of villagers warn that his plans are ruining this Provençal community.

Lacoste, once a Protestant and later a communist stronghold, is no stranger to rebellion. Campaigners have already gone to a tribunal to stop Cardin building a Greek amphitheatre in the local quarry. But the row escalated this week after Cardin insinuated in a TV interview that his village opponents were bumpkins who didn’t understand his great vision. They now call him an egotistical “invader” bent on killing village life.

On the tiny square at the top of winding cobbled streets, 85-year-old Cardin steps out of his black BMW in designer glasses and a tweed waistcoat, on his weekly inspection of his rural empire. Rue de Basse, the tiny, main village street now hosts 12 building sites bearing Cardin’s name. He has bought more than 20 houses and owns almost the whole quaint and winding street. The newspaper shop has his name over the door, he has built two galleries, a boulangerie, a boutique and plans a restaurant and two hotels. He owns two castles, employs dozens of people on his projects, and a van emblazoned with “Pierre Cardin perfumes” can be seen regularly climbing the hill.

“I’m happy here,” he told the Guardian. “I just want to make the village beautiful”. He declines to comment on the outrage caused when he recently likened himself to a “seigneur” and said that while other rich people gamble or collect stamps “I collect houses”.

In the Café de France, a group of angry villagers, including artists and teachers, warned of a “predator”. They said Cardin sometimes paid double the price for old stone buildings, once offering €1m to a couple for their house worth €300,000. “This village is fragile, it has an ageing population, our school has around 30 children; we just want to ensure young couples can afford to live here and keep the place alive,” said Bruno Pierret, a jurist who stood with a group of leftwing candidates on an anti-Pierre Cardin ticket at recent local elections. His group did not get elected but they continue to lobby the mayor to closely monitor Cardin’s moves. At a public meeting this week, more than 20 villagers decided to launch a fresh petition and letter-writing campaign. Eliane Ferres, a retired teacher whose father was the last communist mayor of Lacoste said: “He treats us like “natives” and has a complete disdain for people not of his milieu. He has no right to say he saved the village when in fact he’s sucking out its soul.”

Most approve of Cardin’s much-needed work to restore de Sade’s castle. But the international artists who settled here from the 1950s and 1960s laugh off the idea that Cardin alone is bringing in culture. “Artists and writers have long settled in Lacoste,” said Inge Boesken Kanold, a German painter. Previous residents include Andre Breton and Max Ernst.

Genevieve Recubert, a teacher, said: “I’m scared he will change the face of the village forever.” Yves Ronchi, a local wine-maker, who founded the Association for the Harmonious Development of Lacoste to monitor Cardin’s expansion, warned: “Since the Middle Ages, this has been a feudal place where villagers were not treated as equal; that has produced a local mentality of deference, of bowing down to landowners. That’s what’s happening now.”

One of Cardin’s right-hand men running the Lacoste project said: “He sees himself as a patron, he gives without asking for anything in return. He doesn’t look to buy. People say: ‘Pierre Cardin, I would like to sell my house’. He has brought a dying village back to life.”

Cardin seems hurt by the outrage in Lacoste, but he is also an ageing man in a hurry to realise his dream.

It was in 1995, the beginning of my 4th year at the Cleveland Institute of Art, when I learned that we had an internship program which sent a CIA student to Lacoste each year, which required that student to assist staff and faculty and develop a body of work.

After a brief presentation at school, our Foreign Study office informed us that it was the Drawing Department’s turn to send an intern to France. We students were informed that more information would be forthcoming as the semester proceeded.

After the second semester started, it almost seemed as though the Lacoste internship program had been permanently dismissed from the dry-erase board of my undergrad life, I decided that I wanted to pursue it, and tracked down the derelict Administrator responsible for administering the program. Once I located the culpable party, I was informed, “Ooops!’ I’m so sorry that we never got back to the Drawing Department, but it was too late to do anything!” Apparently, I asserted myself so well that they agreed me to let me apply.

Angry as I was, I somehow forgot to share this information with the other students in the drawing department. And, maintaining her ‘honorable’ service, neither did the program administrator. As far as I knew, I was the only applicant, so it came as no surprise that I was chosen for this honor.

In the back of my mind I was very aware that I was going to be going to a foreign country, with a language I’d briefly studied in high, some 13 years ago. Certainly, that reluctance stunted my excitement as I had no confidence in my French language skills.

But, it was a free ride to the south of France and a 3-month stay in the land of Van Gogh, Matisse and Picasso. My preparations consisted of research on the Marquis de Sade, whose castle ruins were at the top of the village. and deciding I would leave on my adventure on my birthday. The administrator at the Institute was very helpful, Having been to Lacoste herself the reluctant CIA administrator ended up being helpful, in spite of herself, and supplied me directions from de Gaulle airport to the little village in the Luberon valley some 750 km away.

13 hours later, I found out that 95% of all international traffic through Charles de Gaulle airport came through one of two terminals there, and I had arrived at the other one , the one that Miss Administrator hadn’t counted on. Very quickly the directions made no sense. In the midst of 4 bags of heavy luggage and general disorientation, I’d lost Miss Administrator’s itinerary.

Somehow, I had to get from the airport to the TVG station in town, at the Gare de Lyon. I attempted to solicit help from the information desk but this was France, where the Tourist industry counts it as a point of pride not to speak any English.

Arriving at the Gare de Lyon 5 minutes after my train had left, was lucky to identify another lost-looking soul, a young woman, – a veritable Pippy Longstocking, consulting a stapled stack of papers, like the one I had lost at the airport. I approached her and asked if she spoke English. She did – ‘Pippy’ was Jessica Fleetwood, from Sweden, headed to Lacoste where she was supposed to be this season’s Sculpture Assistant. This turned out to extremely fortunate as the train-ride ended up being the front-end of a 6-hour train and bus commute, more French than even my airport encounter. It was good to have some company for the ride.

Lacoste was a life-changing experience. I’d gone as a Drawing Major, a year away from my BFA, and quickly contracted “mal de pierre”, an amusing euphemism for discovering a love of stone carving. I returned the following year to be the assistant to the Sculpture instructor Zoran Mojisilov.

I still sculpt, but I haven’t drawn since art school. Those 3 months segued into 6 months as I decided to remain there as a student for the Fall semester. Lacoste was the most meaningful, important and enjoyable, experience of 5 years of art school.

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