Le Corbusier

by Nicholas Fox Weber

  NOT EVERYONE ACCEPTED French defeat, however. On June 17, General Charles de Gaulle, the undersecretary of the War Ministry, flew from Bordeaux to London to organize a continuation of the war effort. Le Corbusier admired the bravery but did not agree with the choice: “Now for some courage. But for me, my role is here, in this country. I will not and cannot leave France after this defeat. I must fight here where I believe it is necessary to put the world of construction on the right track.”13

  At least this is the rationale Le Corbusier later gave for working with the Pétain regime. This and similar quotations are cited ambiguously in Corbusier Himself, the book the architect wrote in 1960. He gives the impression that this is what he said in 1940. But there is no documentary evidence that the notion of the nobility of remaining on French soil to work was anything but an afterthought inserted into the record well after the war.

  What is certain is that, on July 1, Pétain and his government established itself in assorted hotel rooms in the spa town of Vichy, in the middle of France, in the so-called Free Zone just south of the jagged border that divided France in two parts. By July 3, Le Corbusier, too, was in Vichy.

  On the balcony of his hotel in Vichy, 1942. On the reverse he has written, “à Yvonne, pour remplacer son homme. Vichy 1942.”

  3

  For the next two years, Vichy was Le Corbusier’s main base. He stayed in one or another of its large hotels, sometimes on his own, at other times with Yvonne and their dog. These hotels, built for the visitors who came to the spa for the curative power of its waters, were one of the reasons the new government had selected the desultory town in the northern part of the Auvergne. Vacant now that people could not indulge in luxury travel, Vichy provided housing for the new ministries and instant accommodations for everyone on Pétain’s team. The town also boasted an unusually sophisticated telephone switchboard.

  Pétain had his offices on the third floor of the Hotel du Parc, overlooking some gardens; his second in command, Pierre Laval, was on the floor below. The Ministry of the Interior had established itself in the gaming rooms of the casino. Spaces were cramped, with people’s offices in their bedrooms and bathtubs serving as filing cabinets.

  The town was small; if you didn’t run into someone in your hotel lobby, you might well do so on the street. This was how encounters took place and plans were made, in an atmosphere of constant gossip, intrigue, and power plays.

  On July 10, six hundred deputies and senators convened in Vichy’s old opera house and voted for the end of the Third Republic. The terms of the armistice with Germany charged the new government with maintaining order, thus minimizing the need for German manpower. While occupying Paris and the more populous and productive part of France, the Germans intended to maintain their latest conquest as a base for further military action and make optimal use of French resources.

  Many of the French believed that Pétain was a leader who could counter the decadence that had led to their defeat. He favored a “strong, authoritarian government.” By a vast majority, the National Assembly granted the eighty-four-year-old leader the role of president and prime minister combined and gave him unrestricted powers. His slogan of choice—in lieu of “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité”—was “Travail, Famille, Patrie.” It was a call for “the virtues of hard work, honesty, and respect for one’s social superiors, which he imagined had existed in rural society.” His goal, and that of his supporters, was “elite rule, the protection of private property, social harmony and order.”14 To that end, in October, both Laval and Pétain had cordial and productive meetings with Hitler.

  With a model for a skyscraper for Algiers, ca. 1939

  IMMEDIATELY AFTER the invasion of Paris, Le Corbusier had flown, under the auspices of this new French government, to Algiers for eight intense days of discussions on his renewal of that city. The trip had thrilled him—in part because of the air journey, which allowed him to go, in five and a half hours, from unexpectedly “glacial” spring temperatures in Paris to tropical heat.15 And Algiers offered the greatest of elixirs: the prospect of work.

  Le Corbusier knew that the lack of material resources put all building projects at risk. But when he arrived in Vichy two days after Pétain did, he was determined above all to move his Algerian proposals from the planning stage to reality.

  4

  Yvonne accompanied Le Corbusier to Vichy. Suffering from malnutrition and miserable at another dislocation, she found it hard to settle into the dilapidated spa town. “Obvious undernourishment a vicious circle, nothing to be done,” Le Corbusier lamented to his mother about his frail wife.16 The weather conditions were debilitating, and even though Yvonne was already taking the waters for which Vichy was famous, she and Le Corbusier knew that she needed mountain air instead.

  She did her best to make the most of their situation. Le Corbusier proudly told his mother that his wife made herself loved by everyone. She organized their mediocre hotel room impeccably, with true artistry, and made him feel completely at home. This was high praise from one of the world’s greatest designers of domestic interiors.

  In these tough times, such comforts were even more welcome than usual. Food was hard to procure, and meat, normally a staple of Yvonne’s and Le Corbusier’s diet, scarce. Yvonne’s ability to add charm to their existence buoyed his spirits in this new, uncertain life where the eighty-four-year-old maréchal seemed the one source of hope.

  LE CORBUSIER gave his mother a detailed account of a significant event that occurred shortly after his arrival in Vichy, concerning his and Yvonne’s beloved dog, the schnauzer Pinceau. One day when the architect was out walking him, Pinceau was spotted for his good looks and invited to breed with a bitch belonging to the son of Admiral Darlan. Darlan was almost as important as Pétain in the new government.

  The admiral was a man of sharp views. He attributed France’s problems to its “Judaeo-Masonic political habits” and said that, while the British had always lied to him, the Germans could be trusted. Darlan was convinced that France was destined to become part of “German Europe”—as opposed to the America-dominated bloc of countries that would be its rival. Later in 1940, he met with Hitler at Berchtesgaden, after which he declared, “My choice is made: it is collaboration…. France’s interest is to live and to remain a great power…. In the present state of the world,…I see no other solution to protect our interests.”17 Darlan helped create the General Commissariat for Jewish Matters, which in turn initiated the “secondary status of Jews.”

  With his dog Pinceau I, on the roof of the Petite Maison, ca. 1935

  Le Corbusier wrote his mother about the attempted breeding. “A little farce, this week: Admiral Darlan’s son wanted Pinceau as a stud for his bitch, going into her first heat. Pinceau having declared himself willing in the course of his promenades in the park. For two days, the two of them were brought together in the Admiral’s garage…nothing was consummated! Each creature sulked in his own corner!”18 Preoccupied with issues of potency, the architect was more bothered by his dog’s recalcitrance than by who the admiral was.

  5

  In August, Le Corbusier and Yvonne accommodated her need for mountain air by returning to Ozon. Yvonne hated its isolation and missed both Vézelay and Le Piquey, but they had become “sealed regions” and were no longer options.19

  Sketch of Main Street in Ozon with Pinceau I urinating, in a letter to his mother, August 18, 1940

  In Ozon, Le Corbusier evaluated his progress in Vichy. He had made little headway with the new authorities. In his feverish efforts to establish contact with anyone in a position to give him work, his sole success was a single response from René Belin, “former secretary of the G.C.T. [Confédération Générale du Travail, a trade union].”20 Belin was sympathetic to Le Corbusier’s wish to work on Algiers and other projects, and he offered to help.

  While Le Corbusier recognized that most government officials were caught up in more urgent matters, he wrote his mother, “All the same I knock ti
relessly, day after day, on door after door. And perhaps someday we shall manage to serve the country usefully.”21 He assured Marie that if France in 1940 had managed a military victory, the scum would have taken over, and society would have only declined. What had happened instead was full of potential if one could take advantage of it.

  Le Corbusier lectured his mother that libelous statements were too often believed by a misinformed public and that people who previously appeared to have been evil might actually help solve the recent rash of problems: “Here is what Balzac says: ‘Fools employ negative discretion: silence, negation, frowns, the discretion of closed doors, true impotence.’”22 With this rationale, as he waited for news from Vichy, he justified his “open-mindedness” about Maréchal Pétain and his minions.

  MARIE JEANNERET-PERRET was one of many people who detested Hitler but did not connect Vichy with the Nazis and their atrocities. She was thrilled with her son’s efforts to link himself to Pétain’s regime. She wrote him and Yvonne jointly: “One is so grateful to know you are alive, and in good health, too, ready to work again, to start over, and to be one of the first active agents in the service of that France which seeks to rise again and renew herself…. Edouard’s beautiful letter read and re-read—so true, so serious in its deductions apropos of the tragic events which have led France to surrender—fills us with hope for her future destiny, when an honest, severe direction will cleanse, will purify, will heal her wounds…. [T]his is an epic moment, unique for France; that she will accept it is to be hoped with relief and certainty…. Our thoughts here in Switzerland follow Vichy’s movements and the vigorous speeches (of the old man whom some blame for letting himself be influenced by those who wield the powers of victory), admiring his robust good sense, his unflagging energy in the colossal task of renewal imposed upon him. And with pride we think of what you can contribute: your colossal work, your Swiss research, your magnificent intelligence, all in the service of the noble resurrection of a great country.”23

  Inspired to optimism by this leader who was even older than she was, Marie continued, “This old Maman nearing eighty has failed a lot; eyes and ears unsteady, frequent lassitude, legs a little less adjusted to 2000 and 3000 meters! Yet the situation is still splendid in comparison to old people of my age, and I dare say or do nothing but be eternally grateful for my lot.”24 In that dark period of France’s history, Maréchal Pétain and Le Corbusier together had at last succeeded in infusing La Petite Maman with the optimism and well-being he had always urged on her.

  6

  On the eighteenth of August, anticipating his mother’s eightieth birthday by about three weeks, Le Corbusier wrote her from Ozon.

  On September 10th you will be eighty years, proof that one is still young at such an age. Eighty years old and you remain your sons’ companion, staving off the years, ever smiling and laughing.

  You find us closer to you than ever, for you have all our confidence, seeing that nothing daunts you, that your enthusiasm, your faith in what is good increases every day. Our family is quite small, but it is close and firm, and the vital memory of our Papa cements the fourth corner of the wall and that of dear Aunt Pauline is the fifth point of the star.

  There you have our accounting. Brief, but dense and positive.

  Let me tell you on the occasion of this splendid anniversary what I’m thinking of Albert your son attached to you by such strong bonds.25

  From there Edouard launched yet again into an analysis of his older brother and of Albert’s situation. Edouard emphasized that Albert led a less important life than he did and was too dependent on their mother. On the other hand, Edouard was grateful that Albert’s presence in Vevey enabled him to continue his own work elsewhere with the knowledge that their mother was not alone.

  Edouard and Yvonne could not attend the birthday celebration in this time when the authorities would not permit travel across international borders, but his writing proved a great substitute. Marie was so moved by this letter that, when a group of friends and family members assembled for the birthday celebration in Vevey, she had it read publicly. The condescension toward Albert seemed to bother no one. The listeners, she reported back to Le Corbusier, were “overcome by such filial fervor, such love for our little family.”26 Now that he was devoting himself to a cause she believed in, he could do nothing wrong.

  AS SUMMER WOUND DOWN, there was nothing to do but swim every day and await further summons to Vichy. Le Corbusier decided not to return to Paris the coming winter; there would be no heat and no work. At least he had enough money to send Albert a bank draft to cover the cost of a nice meal on their mother’s birthday.

  For his eighty-year-old mother, Le Corbusier used words remarkably close to those he later inscribed in the windows at Ronchamp in honor of another Marie: “We shall think a great deal of our dear Maman, so glorious and radiant.”27 She had, he wrote, imbued in him his miraculous strength.

  7

  In the third week of September, Le Corbusier returned to Vichy—this time without Yvonne. The trip was “a journey through hell.” He got from Ozon to Toulouse easily enough, but then it took him another twenty-four hours before the packed train arrived in Pétain’s capital. He was astonished by the destruction of villages he saw en route and, as the congested train rolled on at its lugubrious pace, became increasingly worried about the wife he had left behind.

  Shortly after arriving, Le Corbusier wrote Yvonne a letter that addressed issues he did not dare bring up face-to-face. In the infantilizing voice he always used with her, he wrote, “I have thought about you a great deal, dear Von, for I think of you often. At this moment I feel you are out of sorts, and I am very concerned. I look at you and I actually examine you, though you don’t believe it.”28

  Le Corbusier told her that he had urgently consulted one of Vichy’s medical specialists on her behalf. The doctor said that Yvonne was suffering from nervous agitation, exacerbated by menopause, and that her nature made her even edgier. Her difficulties, he explained, resulted from a glandular deficiency, for which she needed to take hormone replacement; he wanted her to see the best doctors and begin treatment right away.

  He thought Yvonne would be happy to know that, after a tortured night of complete insomnia on the train, during which he ruminated on her situation, he had concluded, “You are wonderfully healthy you are not sick at all, what you have is simply a nervous depression. And we shall manage to overcome that…. Your illness comes in large part from your will.”29

  They had been together for twenty years; in his restive state, he had been full of memories of her beauty. Meanwhile, she should understand that he, too, was struggling. Determined to succeed in Vichy, he was exhausted; after that wretched trip, he had to walk around for two hours before finding a hotel room, which was both uncomfortable and overpriced. Nonetheless, he exemplified the benefits of a determination he urged her to emulate.

  Nothing was easy: “To conclude, I have just pitched a duck wing onto my jacket (the one with polka dots) because the knife didn’t cut.”30

  AS PEOPLE WERE BEING marched off to concentration camps, the insufficiently sharp knife and the stain on his jacket disturbed Le Corbusier. He was in bad humor in general, because he had no idea what his future would bring; nor did he know where he and Yvonne should live. In Paris, he would be without work and unable to function; Ozon was becoming inhabitable in the cold weather, but the woodstove he had put into their room was proving inadequate. Vichy seemed as good a place as any to settle, although Yvonne’s condition made her unfit for the arduous journey there.

  At the start of October, Le Corbusier became desperate for other reasons. For the previous two months, all mail had been blocked at the border, and the complete lack of news from his mother and Albert was unbearable. All was not lost, however; Le Corbusier assured his wife that, in the week he had spent in Vichy, he had met with a lot of people. The new authorities were efficient and capable. He admired the way the city had been cleaned up, and he imagi
ned he could work well with these people.

  Le Corbusier’s spirits lifted all the more when he finally heard from his mother. While she lamented the war—“Everything seems so utterly sad, really lamentable! The newspapers can no longer be read, at least I cannot daily ingurgitate so many acts of violence, such miseries and tragedies in this pitiless war. It is the end of civilization the world over”—she still believed that Vichy was a ray of hope. “Above all we think of France, in this present state of the world! We listen to the radio and we are moved by all that she is enduring with such dignity…. How many are those that have sided with this restoration and general reconstruction. All true Frenchmen call for it and will loyally serve the Good Cause, the rescue of beloved France.”31

  Again Marie Jeanneret endorsed her son’s efforts to work with these good people in Vichy: “I think of you continually, hoping that you will soon be called upon to move, to function! God willing, I shall live long enough to see you as one of the best workers for your country, and with you others equally qualified.” Le Corbusier’s mother was proud of his connection with the fascist supporters of Vichy who favored the Germanization of France. She and his older brother were bursting with pride because Albert had met “Marcel Bucard, the leader of the French franciste party who at the mention of your name gave a start: ‘What! The great Le Corbusier. The unique Le Corbusier!’…It seems that this Bucard has even collaborated with you and your friends Winter and Pierrefeu.” Marie commended Le Corbusier for having left Paris, with all of its restrictions and privations, for Vichy: “Properly governed, France will once again become great and strong with our best sons. Honest, reliable—long live this new and beautiful France!”32