A Museum of Light in Nantes

A total transformation of the Musee d’arts de Nantes carried out by London-based architecture practice Stanton Williams has reimagined the museum as a modern shrine to natural light

In recent years, scores of museums and galleries have sought to rebrand themselves with bold extensions and redesigns. While the objective is often the same, approaches and execution tend to vary almost as much as the results and their reception; by turns controversial or celebrated, triumphant or tragic.

For architects, the task of bridging past and present is marked by competing concerns, and there is a case to be made for architectural intervention with a studied sense of place. Even where contrast appears single-minded, it is underpinned by the need to conserve and modernise at the same time. In the case of the Musee d’arts de Nantes (formerly the Musee des Beaux-Arts de Nantes), British architecture practice Stanton Williams has engaged the opposing forces of continuity and transformation in thoughtful dialogue throughout the museum’s all-encompassing overhaul. Here, sensitivity is tantamount to success. 

Since winning the commission in 2009, Stanton Williams has spent the last six years on the project, drawing on founding director Paul Williams’ background in exhibition design and architectural planning for museums and galleries. The practice’s vision for the museum extends far beyond the usual scope and encompasses a full-scale interior renovation of the original Palais des Beaux-Arts, a new extension for contemporary art, a new graphic arts centre, a sculpture court, and a new link to the 17th century oratory chapel, where a video triptych by American artist Bill Viola is on permanent display. Uniquely, the architects have also collaborated with London-based design studio Cartlidge Levene to redesign the museum’s visual identity – including exhibition design, interior design and signage – in order to create a seamless experience. 

Internal view of Palais with installation by Susanna Fritscher © Hufton + Crow

While excavating the Palais, digging six metres down into the ground to create new spaces beneath the Beaux-Arts building, they uncovered the hand-laid stonework making up its foundations. “This is the beauty of unpicking things,” says Williams. Archways of exposed stone have been incorporated into the minimal appearance of the lower-ground floor, understatedly bringing old and new into balance and reflecting a subtle attention to detail apparent throughout the whole project. 

Patrick Richard, the lead architect on the redesign and director at Stanton Williams, explains that the marble, brass and wood used throughout also aim to heighten the senses. “Every time people engage physically with the building – benches, doors, walls – all of these materials create something very sensual.”

The renovated Palais des Beaux-Arts and its extensions make the gentle Atlantic light – which floods in through the pitched skylights and illuminates the abundance of alabaster – strangely physical. The shaft of an old service elevator inside the Palais has been remade in translucent glass, tunnelling diffuse light down from roof to the basement, while existing skylights have been fitted with layers of glass, stretched fabric and adjustable blinds as part of a complex system that helps optimise natural light.

This continues in the new contemporary art extension, the Cube, where one facade is clad with ultra thin sheets of Portuguese marble, hung between two pieces of glass. During the day, light from outside filters through, and at night, glows from within, throwing veins of marble into relief. At only 7mm, it is so thin that shadows can be seen on the other side. Richard refers to it as a contemporary fresco of sorts. 

“The Palais was very introverted in some ways but in the upper galleries, the sky and the light gives you a sense that you are part of a city as well,” he says, returning to the original building designed by local architect Clément-Marie Josso and planned around a central courtyard. “The clouds pass, the light changes. The space is open and you are part of something else.” This thinking, which puts the play of light at the heart of the Musee d’arts de Nantes, informed each step of Stanton Williams’ soft-footed approach. “This is a museum of light.”

As it reopens to the public under a new name, the Musee d’arts de Nantes takes its place as the sixth largest fine arts institution in France. The museum has been a beacon of Nantes’ cultural standing since it opened in 1900. Now, its collection of over 12,000 works spanning 13th century to contemporary has a home truly fit to rival anything in the French capital.

The Musee d’arts de Nantes is now open to the public

At Home with Mark Hix

From his south London home, the celebrated chef, restaurateur and food writer speaks to The Modern House about what modern living means to him

I lived in Shoreditch for 20-odd years, as well as Notting Hill, and I wasn’t considering south London before I bought this place. My friend Richard, who’s a search agent, showed it to me on The Modern House website, and I zipped straight over on my scooter to take a look. I said yes straight away. I didn’t even come for a second viewing because I knew I was going to redo it.

Space was the main consideration, but I’ve found that Bermondsey is a really interesting area. It’s also easy to get to any of my restaurants… I nip over London Bridge to get to the Oyster & Chop House. I’m close to lots of bridges here! I visit at least two of my restaurants every day. I’m not really in the kitchen any more; I’ve got lots of other things to look at, mostly overseeing the creative side.

This place is my home, and I also do some work from here: writing and experimenting. I might start doing some cookery demonstrations, like I do in my Kitchen Library at the Tramshed.

I worked with Tekne on the refurbishment. Originally they’re shop fitters, but they’ve fallen into doing hotels and restaurants. They did my Bankside restaurant, Hixter, and the one in Soho. I recently put them in touch with my friend Robin Hutson, who owns The Pig Hotels, so they’ve done the last two projects for him. When Robin buys old buildings for the hotels he clears them out, and he’s given me a few salvaged things for the flat – a shower and some old Crapper loos.

I designed the space, and then Tekne worked as the contractors and architects. I gave them the ideas, and they put it all on paper. We gutted the whole thing, taking it right back to the bare bricks. We played around with materials: the wine racks are made out of scaffold planks picked up from building sites around here – some we paid for and others we were given for nothing. The same with the bookcase. Because they’re old, they’ve got a bit of character.

The kitchen counter is made from liquid metal. You can pour it over MDF to create curves at the edges, and you don’t get joins. Underneath are pieces of cast concrete from Retrouvius; I think they were originally columns in a mid-century office block. I wanted simple, natural oak units, something that would wear in naturally. Cooker hoods are normally so boring, so we went to a foundry and made a semi-industrial-looking unit that’s wrapped over the top of a normal extractor. We went back to the natural brick on the wall behind, which would have been the end wall of the original factory.

The spoon on the wall is a Michael Craig-Martin – it’s the cover of one of my books, The Collection. The ‘Vacancies’ neon piece is a Peter Saville art piece that he made. The fridge came from an antiques shop in Paris. It was made in the 1800s – originally they would have put a block of ice in the middle compartment to keep the whole thing cold. The refrigeration guy that I use for my restaurants converted it and made the top bit to match the bottom. It’s got different sections: dairy, wine, glasses, negroni cabinet!

I buy a lot of stuff from junk shops and reclamation yards. The kitchen lights are from Trainspotters in Gloucestershire, and I’ve collected midcentury Stilnovo lights over the years.

I bought the cocktail cabinet years ago at the Paul Smith shop. It had a horrible Chinese painting on the front, so I got my artist friend Mat Collishaw to make a replacement. The taxidermy mice in bell jars are by Polly Morgan, and the Bridget Riley is one of the first pieces I ever bought. There’s a shop across the road – a sort of Lithuanian shop – and they were selling what I thought was a mandolin, but I couldn’t work out why it was so big; it turns out it dates from 1903 and was used for slicing white cabbage.

The guitar comes from an event in Lyme Regis called Guitars on the Beach. A friend of mine said: ‘If I get a Fender guitar sponsored, can you ask Tracey Emin to draw on it?’, and she did. I thought it was going to be a silent auction, but it ended up being a raffle at a pound a ticket. So I bought a thousand tickets for £1,000 to narrow the chances down! It’s signed by Paul McCartney as well. I go back to Lyme Regis maybe three weekends a month. I’m part of the local community, I suppose. I get involved in local charity work and I do a food festival, which brings quite a few people to the area.

I made the garden room because the little terrace is quite small. In the summer you can open the doors up and feel like you’re inside and outside. I put the bi-fold doors in, and then got lots of crazy plants from Covent Garden. It’s a nice place to have tea in the morning. I found the old plantation chair on eBay. The artwork is by my mate Henry Hudson, who works in plasticine. That’s an Australian Moreton Bay Bug [on the ceiling]: it’s a sort of prehistoric crab. Then this is an old python skin I found rolled up in a box in a junk shop. I guess there’s a touch of the macabre, but really I just thought this room was crazy enough that you could put anything in it.

I’ve got a fishing and shooting cupboard here. The wallpaper is by one of the guys who works in the gallery, Tom Maryniak; he’s done a few different types of wallpaper in the loos at my Bankside restaurant. And then the wallpaper in the main bathroom is by Jake and Dinos Chapman.

The photographs above the bed are by Susannah Horowitz – she was one of the winners of the Hix Award. Every time we do the award I end up buying something. And this one isn’t from the Hix Award: it’s just two fucking flamingos with a little bird watching… I forget what its name is! The rooflight was already here; it was quite a weird space before, with a pool table and not much else.”

This feature is an excerpt from The Modern House, read more here