This beautiful maison de maître was for sale near the town of Auxerre in Burgundy. She needed a lot of care but her historical elements were all there.
I am drawn to a house that has been forgotten. There is something about her plea to be cared for again that pulls me in . . . every time. As Tim and I house hunt for our forever home in France, I know I want to restore and not renovate a historic property. I want to remove layers that have covered the authenticity of its structure to reveal its history. It is a process of preservation as well as an integration of our own new stories into the house. Tim nods and then gently reminds me about our agreement:
There must be a sound roof and some part of the house has to be habitable from the start.
I have learned that "habitable" occupies a very large spectrum; something I must admit that I use to my advantage. Agreeing, I took him once to see a very neglected Renaissance château in the Gers region in southwestern France with an owl as its only inhabitant for the past many years. Supposedly, this is a sign of good luck when selecting your home. For me, I was going to need a lot more than an owl and an old tale to win over Tim on this property. The only one winning at the moment was Mother Nature, who was quickly working to overtake the property.
Restoration work began on this 16th-century château more than a decade ago. The current owner commissioned major structural works including the roof but there is plenty yet to be done. The remnant of an early fireplace is exposed to the elements as a section of the castle has lost its walls and roof. I imagined creating a simple conservatory that would allow uninterpreted views of the Pyrenees and an abundance of light flooding the art studio. The original fireplace and stone doorways would remain. Bien sûr!
Upon first glance, I was overwhelmed by the enormity of the project. I scrambled to make a mental “must-do” list and to think of the best selling points to distract Tim from the fact that the château was missing some key walls. We approached the castle down a very long lane that overlooked fields of sunflowers and Tuscan-like valleys. She is definitely beautiful. Simple and strong. For many centuries, she has captured traces of time. She is begging someone to love her again. We walked around the building and found that there were no doors or windows on the south-facing facade. “The better to keep it open to allow the view to become a part of the interiors.” I was grasping for straws. Tim gave me the look that said, "You have broken our agreement." Knowing exactly what he meant, I replied, "Nothing a little hard work cannot fix." Ok. A lot of hard work and a lot of money can fix. My dream of this place being our home was fading fast as we walked through the gaps in the meter-thick stone walls to find that the property was far from habitable from the start, no matter where you placed your marker for comfort. Both my heart and head knew that this one was not meant to be. She needed a much wealthier steward. But for two hours, we explored this more than well-worn home and gathered as many stories of how life had been lived inside her.
The Renaissance château in the Gers has a rich history that stretched well into the 20th century. It was used during WWII as an outpost for resistance fighters given its remote location. Many original elements remain, such as the medieval stone spiral staircase and fireplaces with their imposing stone mantles. The cherry on the top was the secluded room with windows overlooking the valley at the very top of the tower. Tim and I would have to take turns as we both saw it as the perfect writing nook.
It is difficult to explain to someone why you would want to do a renovation project rather than purchase a finished house. I begin by saying that I desire to find a house that is worth living in. A place with a story to tell and of which I can be a chapter. A place that retains its historical details. Burgundian stone floors forever marked with moments of daily life. Medieval circular stairs with captured footsteps in its worn steps. Window panes that have captured the views for centuries and remind us that glass is fluid.
Often Renaissance castles were built over top of medieval fortresses. Elements such as stone staircases and fireplaces were incorporated into the new designs. This main reception room of the Renaissance château was planned for the new kitchen. The original fireplace and ceiling would definitely be focal points. I adored the simple and bright space.
Yes. A restoration project can be daunting. There is that ever important question of:
Where to begin?
Easy. You begin at the end.
Ask yourself:
How do you want your home to feel?
Visualize walking through your front door:
What would make you happy to see?
Trends come and go. But if you create a home that fits with your desires and makes you feel comfortable, you’ll never tire of the results. With an extensive restoration, certain tasks will quickly top the “Must-Do” list : leaky roof, no water supply, suspect electric wires, all demand quick attention. But knowing what you want to create in the end even before starting on the first projects will guide you through a multitude of decisions.
Don’t be fooled; this is a gold mine. The original terracotta floor of the main reception hall of the Renaissance château can be found in an overgrown pile near to the house. Never underestimate the value of old architectural elements.
Breaking down that proverbial elephant into smaller more manageable pieces helps to prevent overwhelm. Plus, you’ll make better decisions if you focus on fewer tasks. A helpful tip in being able to visualize the result and divide it into parts is to collect images. You’ll be amazed how this can spark inspiration. In the old days, I tore out countless pages from Martha Stewart’s Living magazine, Architectural Digest, and just about every journal related to living in France. Today, my Pinterest boards hold thousands of visual ideas in neat categories for my future French country home. Every possible scenario is explored: stone cottage, mill, barn conversion, tiny village house, even a Renaissance château. Being inspired to the type of home you want to create is the most important step in tackling a restoration project. Your inspiration will guide you along the way and keep you from getting discouraged. You’ll know what works for you and what does not. I’m always asking myself, “Does this add or take away from the overall feel I want to achieve?” I look at my ideas and consider what they have in common. Do you like cozy and filled with favorite objects? Or do you like a clean slate where architectural elements can shine? Edit the possibilities until you have your vision of how you want your home to look, feel, and live.
I love a good moulin or mill. They are found in the most idyllic settings. Babbling brooks et. al. This property north of the Loire River had a miller’s house, mill, and an enormous barn all set on 15 acres. The houses were small but there was much work to be done given that exterior walls had been damaged by roofs that have been leaking for too long. The owner and I could not come to terms on a fair price. Now this region is seeing a lot of flooding in France. Mills have their own set of challenges.
Accept that good things take time. Patience is key when tackling a grand restoration project. You have to carefully unravel the stories and engage with the process. If you make unreasonable demands of how long things are going to take, you’ll become frustrated. The journey is where it is at. The end result is only one sweet moment in the long process.
I am enamored with interior roof structures. I understand the benefits of modern installation but it seems a shame to cover these old timbers with drywall.
So now with grand plan, inspirational images, and a devotion to patience in hand, your first official start is to photograph everything. You want to document the house the moment you took the plunge. Don’t move a thing. Don’t sweep. Don’t pull the vines out of the open window. Just capture the beginning. You’ll need this reassurance in the months ahead that you are indeed moving forward. These photos will be priceless. I promise.
I love every historical detail. When you take the time to look closely, you find stories hidden in plain sight.
As you capture every corner of every room, return to your desired result and think about how each space can serve you and your guests. It might feel premature to imagine moving furniture in a room that has walls missing and the roof leaks. But knowing your desired end result assists you with what needs to happen in the initial phase of the renovation. Our lives and preferences evolve so interiors that are flexible work best. Think about how spaces that have been used for one purpose - say a dining room in the past - might become the new kitchen. Rather than tuck a creative space in a spare bedroom, perhaps an art studio could be front and center in your home. You could convert a living or reception room overlooking a beautiful view. Use every square meter in as many ways as you can think. Spaces can be designed to accommodate several different needs at once. Before that first wall comes down, plan how the interior will best serve you. Once you have the overall picture, the different layers of the project will fall into place.
Intuitively, we know how to break down complex things into simple parts and then bring them back together again.
Working an extensive restoration project on a very old home can be a daunting process. But when we approach it more deeply, we learn that much of the pressure stems only from ourselves. Accepting that this endeavor is a slow, loving, rewarding process that might never be quite complete leaves more room for the kind of freedom and fun conducive to creativity. Enjoy the journey. Consider each element in light of how you want to feel within your space, and allow yourself the time to engage with the process mindfully. There will be plenty of obstacles along the way. Delays from the Monument Historiques can cost you months and months if you have purchased a culturally protected property. But those obstacles also provide opportunity to reflect; take time to learn and listen. Be gentle with imposing different values on an old house. Sure you want modern conveniences. But down lights in a medieval salon controlled with remotes? I don’t know. Feels like enforcing 21st-century ways on a 16th-century space. Don’t get me wrong. I love the juxtaposition of modern pieces in an antique setting and visa versa. But use these tools sparingly. Too much modern sensibilities and the rooms will feel “off” or worse, keep too closely to a period style and it will feel like a museum - “look but don’t touch.”
Take your time. After all, you are creating a home worthy to live in.
This is a typical 18th-century Quercy kitchen found in southwest France. They are becoming more rare as muddled remodels rip out the old elements. The souillarde to the left was used to wash dishes. The cantou fireplace heated the living space and cooked meals in hanging cast iron pots over a fire or in a built-in bread oven. The far right is the original potager. A fire would be lit inside the brick and pots were set on top to simmer.
I cannot be the only person who is heartbroken by abandoned places and long to look after them, to see how they could be lived in again. Where an old garden is overrun by bramble berries, I see the outline of a walled potager filled with vegetables, flowers, and herbs. Where there once was a large reception room with only an outline of a late medieval fireplace, I can see a glorious art studio overlooking the countryside. There is something about running your hand along a centuries-old banister that connects you to a sense of time and place. You consider all the individuals who came before, moving up and down the staircase with a sense of purpose. Touching those same surfaces today is a profound way to interact with history.
True, a restoration project is not for the faint of heart. It takes time and money - a lot of money depending on the size of the project. Plus, you must embrace the perfection of the home's imperfections. Walls and floors that are far from plumb or even. Well-worn stone steps that are a bit narrow. Original glass-paned windows that are not as energy efficient as they should be. These countless "flaws" reveal a clear message about what is important when restoring a home:
It is within its walls that the stories of home are created and every imperfection is a record of that history.
For now, we continue the search for our French restoration project. My aim is to tread lightly and gently so to preserve the authenticity of a property as much as possible. I want my home to wear its history. Where we must replace something, we’ll search for recycled building materials, design features, and furnishings. Objects that contain a story.
I want to create an interior space filled with historical details that is beautiful, elegant, and comfortable. I want the decor to be simple so that you notice the architectural elements and the views beyond. I want it filled with my favorite things but edited so that your eye is not overwhelmed. I don’t want a pretentious museum piece. Rather, I desire a home that connects with its heritage and fuels the imagination of those that live there or visit her walls. A place to rest, create, and enjoy the sweetness of a French country life.
She is out there somewhere and when I find her, my heart and head will know that this is a house worth saving. And just maybe, there will be an owl nearby to bring us good luck. But this time, Tim asks that it not be in the future living room.
À bientôt,
Karen
I add a blog post quarterly to Karen’s Atelier - more or less with the changing seasons. For a weekly dose of something "short and sweet" and a nod to French culture, be sure to subscribe to my Weekly Voilàs on this website. For those that have already subscribed, merci. Your support encourages me to take the next step in “living a french life.” It is a privilege to share this journey with you.