Silent black cylindrical sentinels confectioned from finest linseed guard the entrance to each of the sleeping chambers.
The floor is lightly polished to a dull sheen that reflects a cold luminescence from the late November afternoon sunlight. Apparently random numbers are inscribed in script on each threshold.
The Architect removes his shoes and walks barefoot across the floor. Vessels containing glues and potions are piled high in anticipation.
The rudimentary elements of a kitchen are beginning to take shape on the first floor.
A trivial everyday act taken for granted, under current circumstances becomes a milestone on the road to practical completion. Of course, if this was a building site in the UK, the house would have already witnessed countless thousands of cups of tea. But, this being France, tea is definitely not a drink for workmen - you've more chance of seeing a labourer arriving on site with a pink cashmere scarf and a handbag than indulging in a mug of PG Tips.
The Client and The Architect have been drinking tea on site before. Here, enormous thanks is due to the never ending generous supply offered over the garden wall by The English Neighbour. But, these two cups, amidst dust and in near sub zero temperatures (heating not up and running before tuesday), are the first two cups of tea made in the Maison Camy.
GENERAL PROGRESS REPORT
Mario deserved the superlative and did a fine job on the bathroom tiling. This week is The Plumbers final fix, next week sees the flooring contractor and the week after is, cross fingers, D day.
This weekend The Portuguese Neighbour gave an enormous hand with the decoration, plastering walls as if icing one of his marvelous gateaux. The Client spent the weekend as gofer, delighting the salesmen at the local DIY superstore with her ignorance of the things she was required to find; une cloche de 35; molly de 8mm, bulle pour juge de paix; graisse de coude....etc.
Mario turned up again this morning. Unaccompanied by The Builder this time, communication proved difficult. The Architect trying feebly to make his French sound Portuguese by adding slushy bits at the end of every word. Tomorrow The Client has been promised a team for the plasterboard jointing. If things carry on at this rate she will be in for Xmas.
(Please note in the above photo the sacrificial item of clothing always left on site by builders as a decoy to make you think they're coming back - in fact they are such a necessary part of a builders kit that you can now buy them at PointP shrinkwrapped in lots of a hundred - 'decoy plaster stained clothing' )
The work surface / plan vasque for the bathroom is onto the second edition. We're having trouble with air bubbles. We've tried everything - vibrating the formwork, plasticisers, additives.....we've even considered resorting to the ancient roman method of adding blood, any volunteers? only Christians need apply.
So, it looks like we'll change direction, use the concrete form as a solid base for a glass mosaic. Well at least that's The Architects idea. The Client isn't all that keen on mosaic, she really prefers the black concrete. Being married to an architect all this time has seriously affected her colour sensibility.
A screed has been laid to form a base for the kitchen units. The circulation finish will be the parquet continued through from the adjacent living room.
The tiler turned up. Mario he's called. The Builder did all the talking. Mainly to cover up a distinct lack of the local lingo on the part of Mario. We'll find out later if he merits the superlative first name of the legendary plumber.
In the meantime a bit of blatant publicity for someone who does merit a superlative. Stephen Yardley, artist and very good friend of The Architect and The Client, is exposing his work in The Long Gallery in Stroud, Gloucestershire. The exhibition opens on the 11th of December and runs up until Xmas.
The theme of Stephens work is landscape. Tending more and more towards the abstract his work captures the essence of the British countryside. He divides his time between Wales his home, and France where he has recently acquired a little property. (somewhere between Paris and Biarritz). I'm sure the French countryside will inspire the same genius in his work.
That much closer to being habitable everyday, the Maison Camy has just had the gas turned on. Yes that's a well earned second place for the Gas company. Shame on you Telecom.
Tomorrow The Builder, harassed out of his hibernation by a fuse blowing architect, will turn up with the tiler and someone to finish the plasterboard. This in turn will allow The Plumber to fix the bathroom fittings and fire up the boiler and the flooring contractor to lay the linoleum on the second floor (providing The Client gets all the decoration done in two weekends).
The Client is so close she can almost smell the dust and drying paint.
*merci à pqh pour la traduction Canadienne des 'Rolling Stones'
Le projet, dan sa volumétrie, est une réponse simple et économique à l’évolution des réglementations multiples et contraignantes d’urbanisme dans une zone inondable.
L’hétérogénéité architecturale du quartier pavillonnaire permet une esthétique unique exprimée par le choix des matériaux pour les façades et la composition informelle des baies.
La maison consiste en un volume rectangulaire implanté entre les deux limites séparatives. Le volume est
divisé en trois éléments principaux:
