Category Archives: Places

“Gentrifica”: Song echoes through Arles’ winding streets

Story by Thomas Murphy, Lydia Perez and Mariko Rath
Photos by Thomas Murphy

As in most years, the streets of Arles came alive on June 21 for La Fête de la Musique, France’s annual midsummer night music festival. But in La Roquette, a neighborhood in the midst of change, one musical group took the opportunity to make a political statement.

In Place Genive, one of the historic neighborhood’s cozy gathering spots, a choral group known as La CLASH Chorale de Chants de Lutte Arlésienne, sang “Gentrifica” by longtime Arles resident Henri Maquet. Beginning with the chant “Airbnb. Airbnb. Airbnb, Airbnb, Airbnb” to the tune of the theme song from the ’60s TV show “The Addams Family,” they sang in the Provençal dialect:

“D’uno meno tranquilo 
veiràs la disparicien 
di bravis arlaten.” 

“In a quiet way 
you will see the disappearance 
of the brave Arlesians.” 

For La Clash, the festival was a chance to shed light on the impacts of gentrification, which is pushing some Arlesians out of the city’s center and changing life for those who remain. 

Some residents of Arles believe the city’s rising tourism has become a burden for longtime residents, especially those in La Roquette, the city’s oldest neighborhood and the home of immigrant communities.

Arles is renowned for its rich history and vibrant culture; as such, it has long attracted tourists. But, in recent years, with new attractions and new ways for people to capitalize on the city’s charm, some say Arles is losing what makes it special.

Exploring this vibrant area as a tourist in summer, it’s easy to be dazzled by the city’s charming winding alleyways and impressive monuments. The architecture of the distant past is well preserved and the streets are alive, filled with people eating at restaurants or looking through shops and galleries. What you may not notice are the scores of Master Lock key safes, the “for sale” signs hanging in windows, or the silence that falls in winter after the tourists have gone home.

“It’s changing. There are less people now, it’s rather difficult,” said Jean-Marc Bernard, a retired mason devoted to the preservation and improvement of his hometown. Having lived and worked in Arles his entire life, he knows its history well and explained how his hometown became “…a holiday village, only for tourists.”

Jean-Marc Bernard sits on his patio, cracking jokes while explaining his plans to improve the city.

Bernard explained that Arles’ factories were closed prior to 2003 when many buildings were damaged by major flooding from the Rhône. 

With one of its main revenue sources gone, the city decided to invest in its major industry,  tourism.

With an already impressive arts scene, featuring the Les Rencontres d’Arles photo festival and the legacy of Vincent Van Gogh, it made sense to find ways to draw more visitors.

In June 2021, the LUMA Tower opened, adding another tourist attraction to Arles. Spearheaded by pharmaceutical company heiress Maja Hoffmann and designed by the architect Frank Gehry, the gleaming structure has solidified Arles as a destination for the arts. 

Gertie, a resident of La Roquette for 10 years who didn’t want her full name used, said that the addition of art spaces like LUMA meant that ”Arles became attractive. Arles was the place to be.”

The rise of tourism has driven some property owners to capitalize on the market by listing with short-term rental services. Companies like Airbnb have made it easy for hosts to earn a lot of money renting their homes. 

“There was a lot of tourists, so there was a lot of Airbnbs,” Bernard said. “People were very interested to gain money.”

“Aqui soun li touriste,
que pagon li mai riche que compran nostis oustau,
per faire mai de sòu.”

“Here there are tourists,
who pay the richest.
Who buy our houses,
to make more money.”

According to AirDNA, which tracks vacation rental data, there are 220 short-term rentals listed in La Roquette, which had fewer than 2,500 inhabitants in 2006, according to the city’s website.

Data recorded by Insee shows the number of secondary residences  in Arles, which increased from 588 in 1999 to 1,693 in 2021. Karine Bernard, Jean-Marc’s wife, explained that “Parisians or foreigners…buy these houses, not even to make them Airbnbs or apartments. They’re empty for most of the year and just a second house for them.”

Some investors leave homes empty, waiting for their value to increase to sell later after the price increases. Insee data shows the number of vacant accommodations rose from 1,632 in 1999 to 3,521 in 2021, growing by 1,378 after 2015. Bernard reported that he bought his home for 85 euros per square meter when he moved to La Roquette 30 years ago. “Now,” he said, “it is worth about 3,500 (per square meter.”

“T’an vendu e per cent e per milo.”

They sold you for a hundred and a thousand.”

As prices have risen, many longtime residents of La Roquette have left the neighborhood. ”The houses are so expensive, so you can sell them for a lot of money,” Bernard said. “Somebody can sell their house and buy a very comfortable villa with a garden.”

This exodus, combined with the growing number of short-term rentals and empty investment homes, have caused the loss of La Roquette’s spirit, some residents say.

“Before, the neighborhood was a real melting pot; there were several kinds of people,” said Gertie. Now, the neighborhood is becoming less diverse, with tourists sometimes outnumbering locals strolling through the district’s winding streets.

“Mass tourism can kill the spirit of a city,” said Thomas Corolleur, the former president of a community space in the town center called Parade. “[Visitors] want to find a place that has spirit, but if you have too many tourists you kill the spirit.”

When asked what he thought a solution would be, Corolleur said, “It’s a question of balance, how to find the right balance between people coming from outside and people living here full time. It has to be fine-tuned.” He spoke of other cities like Barcelona that plan on banning Airbnb by the end of 2028, and how this movement is a good thing for residents.

Vanille, who has lived in La Roquette since 2014 and did not want her full name used, explained that the best course would be to move away from a profit-centric model of home sharing. She’d prefer to see people use systems like Home Exchange, where members can swap homes or host to earn points, not cash.

”The big problem ,” she said, “is that there’s a lot of Airbnbs that are just Airbnbs, they’re not houses that you put on Airbnb for a week when you’re gone.” 

Like many cities in France, Arles relies on tourism. It will always be rich in art and culture, but the influx of short-term rentals to tourists allows the sense of community in the heart of the city to slowly deteriorate. Just like any other story of gentrification, money prevails, pushing out long-time residents of La Roquette, and making room for the wealthy.

“Nautri, pauris arlaten
Sarem pas pus aqui
Nous mancara d’argent
Per resta au pais.”

“We other poor Arlesians
We won’t be here anymore
We will be short of money
To stay in the country.”

The La Roquette is made up of a labyrinth of plant-lined streets that snake between the ancient homes.

Listen to Henri Maquet sing “Gentrifica.”

Notes of a Post-Colonial, Queer Exile

Story and photos by Judas Ātman

I signed up for ieiMedia’s journalism and photography program in Arles knowing I’d be less than three hours away by car from James Baldwin’s house in Saint-Paul-de-Vence. Overseas, I carried with me a question that had burrowed itself in my mind: Why did he exile himself to France?

What was happening in the psyche of this sharp witness to history that made him leave the United States for Paris on November 11, 1948? 

Baldwin’s decision to leave our country bothered me because, frankly, I judged him. Throughout my entire love affair with his work I have been frustrated by this feeling that were I to do the same, I would be “abandoning” our people, which is to say those of us who possess the same frustrations with our country and the fervent desire to see it transformed.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I speak about Baldwin and his work obsessively, as if when I read his words, I am engaging with a close friend over dinner and reporting out what he has told me. Even through this intimate love with his words, I have found myself angrily wanting to demand, “How could he leave?” How could he abandon our country that so desperately needed his sharp ability to bear witness?

A view from the bridge along Chemin de Jonquets that crosses over Canal du Vigueirat, just after sunrise. Here I walked almost every morning in the middle of my time here in order to process the many tectonic shifts of change that rocked through my body and mind.

But in my first two weeks here in Arles, I get it now. I’ve been shocked, honestly, to find myself so in love with this town I never even knew existed outside a tiny, digital photo on a random website of a random media company. It is here, self-exiled, whisked by the wind to this tiny town, a leftist eye in the swirling storm of the far-right area that surrounds it, that I am able to feel the extent of my grief when I think of my country.

I expressed a portion of this grief to Ania, the colleague and friend I met here in our program the first day as we walked together and had lunch. I told her I feel as someone who becomes increasingly more deviant and pushed to the social margins of American society, there are few options left for me but imprisonment, exile and or death. I said I’m not afraid to die.

Ania Johnston peacefully listening to Ethel Cain’s Preacher’s Daughter on the train to Arles after our loud night out in Marseilles, the first long weekend of our trip.

Ania said I was martyring myself. And she was right. Why martyr yourself for a country that doesn’t care about whether you live or die? 

Like a morning bell, the truth of this grief tolls in my mind, echoing with an almost feverish level of vision, as if I could see the world between the 1’s and 0’s of the Matrix. In a notes app on my hike around the outskirts of the city, following the dirt paths along the Canal, I wrote the following:

homeland is not a place, a person, a people, when you’ve lost your home

america is an abusive narcissistic parent. i have stockholm syndrome. i’m not american. i never was. it’s not a part of my ontology. it’s not the core essence of who i am. i am an exile. i belong to no one. i belong nowhere. my home is in the liminal margins, between worlds, between countries. i am opening portals in my mind and hoping to manifest the same boundlessness in a western world obsessed with the borders of nationalism.

Despite this moment of separation from one country, I see a new self sprouting in the fields of another one – each seed a shard of Self that blooms through stickers, graffiti, and wheat pasting I find as I walk through the winding walls of La Roquette,  my integrity reflected in the architecture of this city. 

A wheat paste poster encouraging Arlesians to vote against fascism, meaning the extreme right party, during the parliamentary elections on 30 Juin. The poster references the American rock band Rage Against the Machine, who are known for their anti-authoritarian and revolutionary views.

I didn’t know who these people were who posted them but I follow the trail — like Alice trailing the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, like Neo following Trinity’s instructions to trail after the white rabbit to find Morpheus in The Matrix — I leave my American self to find this Arlesian persona. And that persona is an evolving self, a truer self that enters me like a song humming a deeper resonance than I knew my own voice to be capable of.

Once I leave Arles, I have no idea how to make sense of where I’m going, because this place has struck me like a bolt of lightning, causing so many structures within myself to tumble and fall.

When home, I won’t be the same person I was before my time here. This new person I am becoming, I can’t yet say who they are, but I was told by a sommelier in Plan de Campagne, a region just outside Marseille where Ania, my colleague, and I stayed this past weekend, that I’m not meant to know how to make sense of all this right now.

The only moment that exists, he implied, is this present one: me, writing this “postcard” while sitting in the dining room of my host family’s home, my mind scrambling to understand the impact my time in this city is having on me.

 One of my last morning walks along the canal. This morning, the mist had rolled in and blanketed the fields. Finally, I had found my peace.

The other city of light

Story and photo by Malcolm Taylor

I discovered my love for photography when my dad put his Canon F1 film camera in my 2-year-old hands. Coming to Arles, France, considered by some to be the photography capital of the world, is nothing short of a dream come true for me. 

To me, photography means a love for life and an expression of creativity. I consider my camera to be an extension of myself and a fundamental tool of my daily life. 

You can only imagine my excitement when this program in Arles was announced. I had found a chance to study and learn French, work with industry professionals, and meet other creatives – all in the capital of my passion.

Now in Arles, I understand why it is truly a photographer’s playground. Everywhere I look, I am surrounded by deep history, elaborate architecture and beautiful faces. Being in a new country for the first time, I feel a buzz of creativity that I wasn’t anticipating. 

When I delved deeper, I realized what had truly caught my eye—along with the eyes of centuries of artists. At the right hour of the day, an abundance of divine light washes over this former Roman provincial capital. Be it a gleaming drop, or a river of luminescence, this town is positively inundated with light. Light is the photographer’s water of life. Photo-graphy literally means light pictures. Without light, there are no pictures.

One day, I decided to try my hand at exploring street photography. After allowing myself to capture some intimate frames of Arles life bathed in the city’s distinctive light, I wandered into a quaint little shop by the name of La Valise Arlésienne.

Immediately, I was hit with the unique odor of old metal and brass equipment. The dry scent of old paper tickled my nose, and my stomach began to flutter out of pure joy. I had just walked into the most beautiful photography store I had even seen. For me, this was equivalent to stepping foot into a dream. Old photographs lined the walls, ancient camera equipment stared back at me with meticulously handcrafted glass. I felt at home. 

Patrick Gagey, the owner of the store, said that this is the biggest collection of old photographs for purchase in the world. The son of a photographer, he said that everyone in Arles is either a photographer or becomes a photographer.

Living in Arles has been a transformative experience for me. The light and vibrance of these streets have opened my mind to my beloved craft and have given depth to my perception of my field. I am thankful for this step forward in my creative journey.

Bruce Strong, one of my professors from Syracuse University, is teaching photography as part of this program. While we traversed Arles together one day, he imparted a new ability upon me. He asked me to focus my eyes on him, all while describing my surroundings. I slipped into a flow-like state as I described my surroundings:

A kid brushes past me from shadow into sunlight. A woman takes off her red hat and soaks in the blinding sun. A man picks up a bag from under a table and moves it into the light, showing its vibrant yellow color. A woman opens the blinds on a cafe window. Beautifully soft light pours over the cafe residents

With this new ability, I’m able to not just see light, but see how the world interacts with light.

Arles feels ripples of racial conflict

Story by Ella Slade

While only a 15-minute walk from the city center, the Griffeuille, one of Arles’ three quartiers populaires, resembles an entirely different city. As you approach from downtown, the Roman architecture and tourist-target boutiques fade into clusters of large, uniform housing projects. 

Many people from these housing projects never go to the city center and vice versa, according to Fanny Petit, the coordinator of La Collective, a non-profit association in Arles that provides social and psychological services for women. “It’s like there is a frontier, an invisible frontier.”

One of the housing projects in Griffeuille, a quartier populaire in Arles. Photo by Ella Slade.

Recent events have shined a spotlight on those living in France’s quartiers populaires. On June 27, in Nanterre, a town in the western suburbs of Paris, 17-year-old Nahel M. was fatally shot in the chest by police, for driving off during a traffic check. The recent death of the teenager, who neighbors said was from a family of Algerian origin, triggered rioting and clashes with police around Paris and other communities throughout France.

In Arles, the reality is complex, leaving both urban and suburban communities with conflicting feelings of solidarity and estrangement. While the Griffeuille  may not seem attractive to tourists, it is rich with diversity and home to a close-knit community, said Zachariah Yazidi, a resident of the Griffeuille, who compared himself to a local mail carrier.  “We all know each other, we’re like a big family. 

Quartiers populaires are categorized based on household income, communities where the median income is equal to, or less than, 60% of the national median wage (1,800€/month). The people who live in these communities are two times more likely to be immigrants than the national average and three times more likely to be unemployed, according to the Institut Montaigne. 

A similar, but not interchangeable, term used is banlieue, meaning a set of administratively autonomous neighborhoods that surround an urban center.

Although it is the largest city in France by land area, Arles has a relatively small population of around 50,000 inhabitants. 

While riots broke out even in many small French towns, protesters assembled peacefully June 30 in Arles’ Place de la République.

People gather for a peaceful assembly on June 30 to protest the killing by police of Nahel M. on June 27. Photo by Deni Chamberlin.

Victor Parodi, who lives in Arles and will attend the University of Paul Valery in the fall, said he thinks that since Arles is a fairly small city, it does not host much social activism. 

“You can see right away when you go to the biggest cities like Lyon, Marseille, Paris. This is where there is the most movement, and where there has been the most revolt and break-up,” Parodi said. “For example, I went to Marseille today. The riots were still two weeks ago and there were dozens of stores with the windows that were totally broken, stores that were looted, that were broken, stolen from.”

“It is also not necessarily in small towns where we will see these riots. The purpose of a riot is to see it everywhere, and in small towns people won’t necessarily see them,” said Samuel Lacassin, a recent graduate of Lycée Louis Pasquet in Arles.

The assembly in Arles included three audio broadcasts of testimonies from Nahel’s family, as well as other victims of civil rights violations and police brutality. 

“There were 200 people [present], which is not enormous, but it’s consequential for the city of Arles, and there were 50 to 70 young people who came from the banlieue,” said Camille, an organizer of the assembly in Arles who spoke to The Arles Project on the condition of using a pseudonym. “Normally, in these political activist gatherings, most people are White and from the center of town.”

According to Camille, many who attended the assembly in Arles were social activists who have demonstrated together in the past. 

Throughout the assembly, those in attendance were given time to speak and pose questions to law enforcement officials who were present. 

“They immediately asked simple questions about their feelings,” Camille said. “A young boy, who is 11, talked about racism that he already knows, as he is a victim of racism at this age, which is very young. He asked the policeman, ‘Why do you arrest only Arabic and Black people, and why do you control them?’” 

The officers, who stood on the periphery of the assembly, did not respond. A spokesperson for the Arles bureau of the national police told The Arles Project no one was available to comment by press time. 

A graffito in Arles calls for “Justice for Nahel,” the Nanterre youth killed by a police officer. Photo by Ella Slade.

According to Camille, even a simple gathering in homage to Nahel and to denounce police racism is considered a threat to government officials in France. The problem is not just the racism of individual officers, Camille said. “It’s the laws around it, and how to live with systemic racism in the states and with the police in particular.”

“In places like the banlieue, where they’re not investing a lot of money and energy into making life better for these people, giving them more work opportunities, and giving them more education opportunities, obviously, there’s going to be economic difficulties,” said Sydney Firsching, an Arles-based intern at SOS Racisme, an organization which aims to combat discrimination and promote community cooperation. “All crime is a result of economic difficulties, really, in most cases, in many communities.” 

Police stop teenagers in the Paris banlieue sometimes multiple times per day, she said.

That’s similar to the reality experienced by Cosmo Arnold, who also recently graduated from Lycée Louis Pasquet in Arles.

“Just the difference between how you interact with the police, for example, between the center of town and [the fashionable neighborhood] La Roquette, is two different worlds,” Arnold said. “I mean, they won’t do a thing if you’re in town, [but] they will chase you if you do a single bad thing outside of town, not even that far away.” 

How can the cycle of poverty, over policing and violence end? “I think it [starts] by taking a step back and realizing how abnormal it is to have a police force that’s defending the state and the interests of a few over everyone else,” Arnold said. “And it’s all about not normalizing it. It’s by normalizing it, that it becomes more prevalent.” 

Yazidi agrees. “As I explained to you, we are like a big family, and that’s why France is rising up. If someone killed someone in your family, someone you know, [you] would rise. At some point, people need to shout to be listened to by the government.”

Arles’ Performance Aerie

Story and photos by Louis Denson

Claire Nys, and six of her friends were returning home after leaving multiple parties that they didn’t enjoy on a festival evening in Arles when they happened to pass by L’Aire d’Arles. Inside, they saw people happily dancing. “Two girls dressed in long dresses, like two princesses” especially caught their eyes, says Nys, who recalls excellent rock being played on vinyl. Although they were tired, the group of women stopped to join the fun and dance together.

“We were so happy to have found a place that suited us, by chance, in this remote place, away from other parties,” says the long-time Arles resident. “It was a magical, improbable, very joyful, and pretty moment.”

“It’s a place dedicated to the taste and the image,” says its founder, Jonathan Pierredon. Pierredon utilizes the “e” in L’Aire to imply its relation to an aerie or nest. L’Aire d’Arles is “a home for all the eagles and falcons,” he says. L’Aire d’Arles rises from the hill just above the Arles amphitheater and the Roman theater. 

It’s a place to party, gather, share and discover as on any day of the week, especially during the opening week of the Rencontres d’Arles photography festival, there is something different happening on each of the three levels of this restaurant/bar.

There are many venues in Arles to grab a bite or a drink, but none compare to the versatility and diversity that L’Aire provides. Throughout the year, L’Aire d’Arles rotates both its menu and exhibitions. It presents installations of photography and videography from all over the world, music from Brazilian flamenco to Memphis underground vinyl, and food brought to Arles by chefs from Madagascar and Tel Aviv.

As you find the bathroom on the second floor you may come upon an entirely different performance and forget to return to the floor where you started. The sight of the bartenders mixing cocktails welcomes you inside and the aroma of the kitchen floats you upstairs. You can draw on the chalkboard along the stairs, or appreciate the drawings of other patrons.

The second floor is a velveteen lounge space where you can sit and talk as you dissect the everchanging art installations on both the walls and podiums.

And on the third floor, the sound of music and the breeze of fresh air call you to the dance floor and terrace where you can sit back and watch projections on the ancient walls of the city, dance the night away to music, or refresh yourself at the mini-bar.

L’Aire d’Arles welcomes artists and guests of all sorts and styles as all events are free and open to everyone. Pierredon has no criteria for who can share their work. He welcomes all types and techniques of music, art, photography and creation and works them into the venue’s busy schedule.

Arles is not known for its party scene and can be thought of as a small and sleepy town. It can be difficult for amateur artists to have a place to share their works, but L’Aire gives them a platform. L’Aire also invites the students of MoPA, Arles’ prestigious school of animation, to share projections of their films, and it hosts an annual auction for the student work of the National School Supérieure de la Photographie, with an exhibition floor and gavel bidding.

None of this would be possible without the tireless effort and passion of Pierredon and his staff. “Life is full of time, [but] time goes fast,” said Pierredon, sharing his mentality as a business owner, exhibition facilitator and active father.

Pierredon has worked many jobs, including videography for an advertising agency. The time he spent away from his son did not seem justified by pushing a company’s agenda. He wanted that time to have value, reason and passion. In his current work, Pierredon can share his excitement with his son in hopes of instilling verve for community and creation.

He focuses his energy on things that inspire him and that he can look back on and say that he is proud of. “If anything can inspire me, I’m running and jumping.” He loves what he does, the community he can welcome, and values the opportunities the city of Arles has offered him.
The feelings of appreciation are reciprocated by the Arlesian people as well. Pascal Ansell, a musician and language teacher at Arles à lacarte, says, “Jonathan has a very rare and special energy that is exceptional in Arles. He does things for the hell of it; he promotes so many events and wants to support people in what they are already doing. That is so, so precious in the Camargue as there is very, very little of that energy to go around.”