Putting the Cool in Couëlle: Rex Southwick at Dragon Hill

We interview Rex Southwick about his time in the Dragon Hill Artist Residency in the South of France, learning about the local cultural opportunities on offer and the history of architect Jacques Couëlle’s influence on the region.

All imagery is courtesy of the artist.

You were one of the first two artists to enter Dragon Hill, what were your first impressions?

It was a good time of year down there, not too busy but still lots to explore. I did a lot of extreme ‘French-style’ driving, which means you always have right of way no matter what!

Seriously though, Dragon Hill is an amazing house, and its proximity to the most incredible art foundations and collections adds phenomenal value. When else would you be able to live somewhere like that?

I obviously visited the other ‘Landscape’ houses designed by Jacques Couëlle to photograph them, and others like Eileen Grey’s famous Villa e-1027 in Cap-Martins which has just been brilliantly restored. There’s the Jean Cocteau Museum in Menton, and Fondation Maeght, etc, etc.

You were in Dragon Hill together with another artist Kristy Chan. How did you spend your time day-to-day?

Work-wise, Kristy and I tended to work in the afternoons and evenings and keep going until late, like one or two o’clock. I don’t know why, it’s just what happened, probably because there’s no other distractions at night.

We’d be out most days, at other houses and villas or gardens, or driving somewhere to explore. Everywhere there has such a deep history, which made it very different to the previous residencies I’ve done in Palm Springs. There you can spend a week exploring and then it’s sort of done – “oh look, another Joshua Tree!” – but around Mougins there’s always something else to learn. Our time there coincided with the opening of FAMM [Femmes Artistes du Musée de Mougins] and so we met Christian Levett, who is so knowledgeable, and we also went to the historic Monaco GP which was very cool.

What was your opinion of Monaco?

Quite a weird place. It’s fantastically voyeuristic, and of course with so much wealth there everything is immaculate. It’s interesting from an architectural point of view, as with such finite space it is continually being blown up and rebuilt again. It’s also unique because it is completely safe – I know friends who go off for a day’s sailing and leave all their handbags, shoes, everything on the dockside, which would be unthinkable anywhere else. The utter security comes from all the surveillance, which is also why you can’t talk about Monaco in Monaco, or about anyone who lives there. The walls have ears, that type of thing. It’s such a small world, in a restaurant you never know who you might be sitting next to.

I was focussed on meeting yacht brokers there, as it was the best way for me to access the boats to photograph them for the paintings I was making in the residency. I think my work in Palm Springs was easier in that sense because there was more access to building sites, which I could then photograph to work from. I think Americans just show their wealth more. Europeans hide it behind gates and trees.

How conducive was the environment to your work and productivity?

It was very refreshing. Kristy and I kept saying how the South of France is undeniably beautiful. Dragon Hill is completely silent too, the complete opposite of London.

We got a lot of work done, because I think there’s a bit more pressure to make the most of it. There’s that competition between artists, so if Kristy was in the studio I couldn’t doss by the pool all day. I think it was mutually beneficial.

You were joined by the writer Lydia Figes, how did she impact your time in Dragon Hill?

Yes Lydia joined towards the end. It was great but I do think she arrived and thought Kristy and I were absolutely mad. She was very good at asking questions, nailing us by asking “why”, which was very much appreciated. As an arts writer she is very plugged in, and we would sit up late discussing politics and philosophy – something everyone should do more of!

I think the nice thing about the whole experience is you make friends with someone that you would never spend that much time with otherwise. I might meet an artist at a gallery or go for a drink, but you don’t suggest living together for six weeks. It’s a rare opportunity.

You and Kristy ended up doing two collaborative paintings together – how did that happen?

I would watch Kristy working. She would literally do a painting in a day, having a great time. I was at the other end of the studio, trying to colour in a fender of a boat that’s taken three days. She would walk in and in 10 minutes be able to smear her paint on, step back and say “Oh that’s perfect,” and I would look over and think she’s not wrong! So she suggested I paint abstracts, which didn’t happen but we did indeed work together on two collaborative paintings.

They’re really fun, they’re both of house, so architectural but also abstract. Basically, I would draw it out, then Kristy would mess it up, then I would try work back into it and she would mess it up again. We both have wildly strong opinions, so everything she did I thought was wrong, and she thought the same. Weirdly they are perhaps the best paintings I did there.

And that’s not the only collaboration in the works is it?

Well, Lydia and I would love to make the definitive book of Jacques Couëlle, as you really can’t find any information about him anywhere.

There were lots of pamphlets in the house, which previous owners must have left, but there’s nothing concise or comprehensive. None of it’s chronological, it’s just random bits of paperwork that say he built this house, or this hotel, or his friend built this. He was connected to so many people, like Picasso and Jean Cocteau, but it’s so hard to work out when, where, or how everyone knew each other.

For example, he was very close to François and Sedo Thevenin, a husband-and-wife couple who made all the metal work for the houses. They made the grates for the windows and doors, and the main Dragon Hill gate. But the locals have no idea. They were like, “This is by Jacques Couëlle” and I had to say it’s not actually, it’s by his mate. But, same as Couëlle, they’ve got very little publicity.

All I knew about Couëlle before I came was that he designed the Cala di Volpe hotel in Sardinia, which I think is now one of the most expensive in Europe. But he also built the Château de Castellaras [the central domain of Dragon Hill] when he was 25, for an American billionaire and mediaeval art dealer who had sourced all this antique stone and materials from around France after the war. He commissioned Couëlle to build the house with it all, which is why Castellaras is a bit of folly but it’s amazing as you can’t tell – the front is like an 12^th century cloister. After that he said to Couëlle what would you like to create, and that’s how Dragon Hill and the rest of his Landscape houses arrived.

Certainly enough to fill a book with! What lasting impression will the experience leave on you?

I remember about four weeks into our stay we visited Christian Levett’s house, and were stunned by the normal doors and straight walls. Just the most basic things that you lose sight of in Dragon Hill, where literally everything is wonky, where you have to duck going down the stairs.

It affects you totally. You forget what a normal house is like.