Last week-end was devoted to Heritage Days all over France. Lots of public and private places of interest were opened free of charge, or almost free.
I made up my mind to visit The Camp des Milles, for once on the list of Heritage days in Aix-en -provence. Les Milles is a few kms away from Aix.
As I was waiting for the zoo bus at Potsdamer Platz two years ago, my eyes suddenly got attracted by the glass sides, like an open book. The list of names was familiar, but the photo of a young man,
Varian Fry, was not.
I forgot what I was meant to do and started reading, because I knew the story but had never put a face on the name of the man who rescued so many lives.
The Camp des Milles is situated along the railway track and not far from Marseille, it was an ideal place to park all the undesirable human beings arrested by the Vichy government under the occupying Nazi Forces. There were also a large section of Italian communists mainly intellectuals, together with apatrid Jews, who had managed to escape horrors in Germany and got trapped in France, saddly. They were mainly intellectuals and artists. Because of the open situation, a very flat landscape with this tile factory facing the railway tracks, every one from the windows of the factory which had no window panes (the huge building being partly used to let the bricks dry in nearly open air and draft and out of the sunshine to prevent the clay from cracking.) could see their fellow sufferers leave and be pushed into the small waggons. Very often it would take two hours to embark. When convoys left, suicides were committed. The sight of beloved families with sometimes very young children, friends, fellow sufferers, leaving in such appalling conditions was obvious from the camp and utterly unbearable. Nothing could hide the crude reality. More suicides had been committed in this camp than in any other, a paradoxical situation really, the camp being an internment camp, not a concentration one.
That afternoon by the bus-stop in Berlin started with a long flash-back, liking Fry's story with what I knew so well from home.
What is striking in this huge refectory in the brick factory is the decoration which had been a command from the French guards to keep all these famous artists occupied, like that they were less interested in joining their knowledge and energy to plan to escape. The guards gave them paint and all the necessary equipment to decorate the rooms. Apparently the whole factory had been decorated even inside some tile ovens.
I tried to link the missing pieces of the puzzle which took place on our doorstep almost, during last saturday visit.
Some photos from the bus stop at Postdamer Platz Berlin oct 2008 and some pictures of the camp now, last saturday.
The Camp is under refurbishment to turn it into a Memorial Museum, which is really the least that the French authorities can do after more than 60 years. So, it is very often closed.
This place called 'blog' reflects parts of my life linked to art, some meaningful events, more or less with personal reactions.
This visit means a lot, and there will be some
traditional music to make it easier to revisit in my memory, with sorrow. Always.
Link: Laurent Naouri, baritone, sings Mayerke (piano arrangement written by
Maurice Ravel)
