ABSTRACT
We are at La Sainte Baume in Provence, the sacred plateau, the high place dedicated to Saint Mary Magdalene. Centuries of faith. Then of oblivion. Then a possible awakening in this age of every conceivable ferocity: tumult, disorder, revolutionary inventions. One would like to think, collect oneself, meditate. For years, Trouin and I had prepared a major awakening – architectural and iconographical – for La Sainte Baume; underground basilica, mystery and twilight…and outside, living people, living in genuine simplicity to the scale of the landscape, the scale of their gestures and their hearts. It was beautiful. 1
