I never thought I could fall in love with concrete or even find it aesthetically pleasing, but Notre-Dame de Royan changed that. The church strives up, with progressively taller columns edging higher until the final two pierce the sky, presumably to guide souls and prayers to the heavens. The shapes are like a constellation of vertical razor clams, with the two largest at the front. I could imagine the architect, Guillaume Gillet, as a child on one of Royan’s many beaches, stabbing razor clams into the sand forming a model from the shells of life for this later masterpiece that is the city’s landmark.
An alternative attractive interpretation of the vertical elements is that they are like organ pipes, singing to the heavens. Sadly, I doubt the inspiration was as innocent as shells, or as pure as organ pipes, for Royan was destroyed in World War II. More likely that the structure was inspired by the horror of the amassed shards of broken buildings that the church finally replaced in 1958.
The overall is shape is that of a giant yet elegant oval, tilted up, with the bell tower standing proudly at the front top, like a prow of a ship. The colour is beige grey —-serious, sobre, modest, though beautifully and subtly patterned with columns of small square windows (black from the outside) a typical form of Royan’s architecture, and a series of longer rectangular deep-blue windows. No bright colours are visible in this monument that filled me with awe and curiosity.
Inside, behind a triangular opening, a generous space welcomes visitors, and at the far end stands a beautiful triangular stained-glass window (by Claude Idoux) that echoes the entrance and anchors the grey church walls. The combination of grey concrete columns with the white and blue threads of glowing glass creates an atmosphere of hope, strengthened, for me, by the many coloured diamonds (by Henri Martin-Granel). I like that the diamonds are point up. As with many works, the actual meaning is different from my first impression and interpretation – the abstract forms represent the stations of Jesus’ path to the cross, also presented figuratively by Martin-Granel’s rectangular stained glass windows, installed decades later.
Contemplating the generous space, the delicate lights, the calm of the concrete, I stand moved by what this church of hope is trying to leave behind: the pain of World War II. It is an important reminder of a tragedy that should never be forgotten (see also Holy urban lighthouse by a Brussels-born architect, exploring Le Havre’s architectural gem – Joseph’s Church – by architect Auguste Perret). Both churches are reminders of the contemporary European tragedy of the Russian war in Ukraine and the mindless destruction. We have not learnt enough from history.
Royan is also dotted with masterpieces of art nouveau and art deco that survived the war and modern constructions that put the war behind them, and that show a courage of architecture, sometimes complex, and sometimes simple ideas that work wonders. I’d like to focus first on Le Grille-Pain (The Toaster), by the architect Pierre Marmouget, also built in 1953-56. This audacious, but simple building, includes a grille of six blue lines that project beyond the face that give the building its name. Le Grille Pain also employs a series of small square openings for light that echo those of Notre-Dame de Royan and an outside staircase typical of Royan, but with a unique blue disc as a type of parasol.
This is but one of the many beautiful and intriguing buildings. While there is a type of méli-melo of old and new, there are patterns – common creme and white buildings, use of daring red and orange and green and yellow and blue for side walls and balconies that render the normal interesting, coloured metal grating for balconies and doorways (often blues, reds, yellows), also adopting different geometric forms. Many small thigs are worth stopping for and admiring. Many bigger things too. “Le Boomerang”, also by Pierre Marmouget is one – a house shaped after its name, on stilts, with modern art balcony fencing, metal stairs that go from first floor to the pool, an orange barbeque, like a giant mouth waiting to be fed fire and food, and moving blue and yellow walls that remind me of the Ukraine.
A multi-coloured phoenix emerged in the decades following Royan’s destruction. What will emerge from the current war zones in Ukraine when the current nightmare has finally passed? After all the pain and destruction, how will the Ukrainians rebuild and build a future, and how can others help? Royan now has a peaceful present, go and contemplate the holy concrete, what has been built on a destroyed past, and wonder what future is possible for the Ukraine.
