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Modern Triliths
We do not know whether Gilles Perraudin, creator of the wine cellars in Vauvert, knew about Hans van der Laan’s architectural theories concerning space. The combination of these two representatives of a highly singular modernity appeared immediately natural to us and of great symbolic value, given that our work on stone architecture is based on the theory of the fundamental continuity between the origins (archetypes) and their latent permanence in the present architectural project.
Between 1968 and 1969, Hans van der Laan, a Benedictine monk and architect, having been engaged for years in theoretical research on the foundations of the architectural discipline, was struck by a photographic report on Stonehenge, whose symbolic and archetypal value in terms of construction, has been the subject of countless interpretative and reconstructive drawings, as well as a source of great speculation.
The druidic monument was thus drawn into the study of essential and primitive building elements, which for Hans van der Laan involved research on the relationship between architecture and nature, the former deriving directly from the latter. In the face of the current loss of contact with the origins, the Benedictine architect has been busy examining the fundamental bases of architecture which, in periods of crisis, are rediscovered and reintegrated into the heart of the architectural project. ¹
It is easy, therefore, to sense the allure and influence of the solemn atmosphere created by those solitary monoliths, which the site of Stonehenge guards as reminders and examples of the origins of stone architecture, as a primitive nucleus of indelible ideas and schemes to which architecture will be forever indebted. Using an opening quote from Auguste Choisy’s Histoire de l’Architecture, Hans van der Laan again stresses the founding role of the trilithic structure, going as far as to give it supremacy in the aulic concept of architecture, maintaining that “a stone laid flat on two upright; there is the first type of monumental construction realized by man.” ²
Within Hans van der Laan’s vision of architecture, perceived as a combination of elements arranged in meaningful groups in bare spaces, capable of giving significance and depth to simple things (“voice to silence”, “form to void”), it is easy to grasp the symbolic value of Stonehenge’s triliths, which play the role of “instruments of order”, irrepressible primary groups. An architectural method based not so much on creating things from nothing but rather on respecting the original principles of construction.
In the face of widespread “hyper-communicative” uneasiness in contemporary architecture, the Benedictine architect and theorist proposed global reflection upon the discipline with a view to its actual refoundation. Hans van der Laan was to make the trilithic structure and its cogent compositional simplicity a model for his theory of architectural space (condensed in the volume Architectonische ruimte, Leiden, 1977) and for works carried out within the Benedictine order’s building programmes, where the pillar, trilith, wall, cell and courtyard represented the primary elements of simple spatial compositions, capable of evoking the essence of architecture and therefore drawing the past closer to the present. In fact, history itself teaches us how the impulse to repeat basic achievements has always prevailed over the act of breaking away from them. In the words of George Kubler:

“Human desires in every present instant are torn between the replica and the invention, between the desire to return to the known pattern, and the desire to escape it by a new variation. (…) Replication is similar to cohesion. Every copy has adhesive properties, in holding together the present and the past.” ³

Nevertheless, just as there are no completely new technical achievements, at the same time it is impossible to re-propose well-established solutions without any variations, without a hint of innovation in relation to the original model. This is what appears to happen in Gilles Perraudin’s recent work in Vauvert, a soberly bare construction which appears to emerge – in keeping with Hans van der Laan’s reflections on the primitive foundations of architecture – as a pure stone mass, obtained through the simple composition of huge monoliths inside walls and triliths, considered perpetual archetypes of stone building.
We know how modern architecture has moved away from heaviness, rejecting it as a sign of former times, to instead concentrate its efforts on lightening buildings, which nowadays increasingly take the form of immaterial volumetric strata or impalpable transparencies. However, we believe that being modern does not necessarily mean sacrificing the past. With his recent (and now numerous) pieces of stone architecture dotted around Southern France, Gilles Perraudin offers us encouraging examples and concepts to guide us in our research. ⁴
In the construction of the wine cellar in Vauvert, which the architect designed for himself, the stone mass – constructed from huge squared blocks – speaks to us once again of a possible present. The building is simple, consisting of a uniform solid, a block which in this specific case signifies opaque mass, heavy, indestructible, devoid of any technological complexity.
The simplification and stratification of stone are essential to the process whereby Perraudin defines a work that seeks no mediation, enclosed in its own radicality, in the rigour and peremptoriness of the building, where everything naturally stratifies, rises up and closes. The order of the powerful monoliths arranged horizontally and vertically leads us back to a world we believed lost forever, never to be part of modern architectural experience.
Right from the start of our encounter with Gilles Perraudin’s work, we asked ourselves whether or not we should use the interpretative categories of antiquity and timelessness. The subject of origins, of the comparison with the archetypes of stone building, clearly emerges here in the attempt to render architecture “timeless”, to confront it with what the principle represents, while at the same time offering answers to today’s practical problems.
The act of conservation – fundamental to the good ageing of prized vines cultivated in Languedoc – calls for specific requirements and high performance in terms of thermal inertia, capable of mitigating sudden changes in temperature which prove extremely detrimental to the preservation of wines over long periods of time. In answer to the particular conditions of the local microclimate, Gilles Perraudin (who has been striving for years to create environmentally-compatible architecture) has recovered monolithic type building traditions and presented them in a contemporary vein.
Right from the origins – as our work has testified – Mediterranean architecture has evolved through the stratification of thick stone masses and simple, decisive elements. In tackling his project for the wine cellars in Vauvert, Perraudin appears to want to recreate that ancient world characterised by simple compositions and a powerful, rhythmic use of elements. His work offers a sort of retrospective view of the Mediterranean, of the lands of wine and olive groves, of the origins of stone architecture, where there is no distinction between load-bearing elements and curtain walls, between structure and expressiveness of the architectural work.
The innovative use of the conceptual categories of the cyclopean and the original are fundamental to deciphering and interpreting Perraudin’s work, an artefact characterised by a sort of metaphysical timelessness. Stone and compactness appear to be the two distinguishing features of the architecture of Vauvert. From the outside, the enveloping mass of stone blocks (forming walls, piers, lintels) deliberately takes on the appearance of an archetypal structure. The cyclopean ashlars seem to evoke a battle against the force of gravity.
The stone mass, transferred from geological irregularity to geometry, does not lose its intrinsic qualities of solidity, continuity and weight. It is with these attributes that the wine cellars emerge from the ground in the form of a compact disposition of volumes, almost an inflated, raised stylobate devised on a square plan of 30×30 m. The stone mass of the building is partially hollowed out along two sides, revealing a series of trilithic structures. The portals open onto the internal space, subdivided into cells arranged in a ‘U’-shaped sequence around a pillar-lined, chiaroscuro patio, which acts as a filter.
Once inside Vauvert’s wine cellars, it seems only natural to perceive its internal storage capacity as a dense, enveloping entity, hollowed out in the mass. The entrance conjures up the suggestive atmosphere of Mediterranean hypogean architecture, the ancestral theme of penetrating a chthonian space. One has the sensation of standing before a place “moulded” on primordial values, on facts regarding the very origins of construction. There is an evident desire to go beyond the stereotyped concept of modernity by retreating radically to the basic themes of architecture: horizontality and verticality, material and assembly of structure, light and dark, rhythmic articulation of mass and void.
The revival of stone as the principal material in this construction should not, moreover, be considered inconsistent with the logic of the modern building economy. On the contrary, it is the very aim to curb costs, using this highly functional and utilitarian material, which prompts Perraudin into confirming the validity of local resources, in this case, the quarries of Vers located several kilometres from Vauvert. Unlike the use of stone in complementary or decorative architectural applications (cladding and floor slabs, solid elements like columns, balustrades, etc.), where chromatic uniformity and surface regularity are generally required, the structural use of the material – as proposed by the French architect – reverses the logic of supply, allowing the application of stone blocks, normally discarded by production owing to imperfections or flaws in cutting.
Therefore, with a more extensive extraction of resources available in the quarry (including the recovery of discarded stone blocks), the cost of the material in monolithic form actually becomes competitive in comparison with today’s other options, especially if during the building process (in other words, on site) a quick and easy method of assembly is devised, that may contribute to the reduction of the work’s overall costs.
In view of these objectives, the project adapts to quarry stone production, specifying the use of sturdy structural monoliths shaped directly on the excavation area using mechanised saws and which do not require any further dressing in the workshop. This approach to the supply of architectural materials means that the large blocks cut out of the rock along the front of the quarry (with dimensions of 1.10×1.05×2.30 m) undergo further sawing, which reduces them to the final measurements of the project (0.52×1.05×2.10 m) – monolithic parallelepipeds with sharp corners each weighing 2.5 tons.
The “life” of the monoliths is accurately defined by the project, which sets a fixed, direct course, that is, straight from the quarry to the construction site with no intermediate phases. Following ancient building methods, the large ashlars are laid alongside and on top of one another on a neutral platform, consisting of a rough, uniform concrete plane. The method of assembly is also very simple and appears to hark back to the principles of the trilithic structure, capable of expressing mass, firmness, integrity, rhythm, durability.
Gilles Perraudin, in daringly rationalising on-site procedures, adopts the dry-laying method (reminiscent of the great megalithic works and the entire Greek stone-cutting tradition), without layers of mortar which act as a cohesive and stabiliser. Neither are mechanical fixing devices used, since they are deemed unnecessary. The static equilibrium of the system is based on the mass and enormous weight of the monoliths. The only wet operation carried out is the sealing of joints between the stone blocks to prevent air from passing through.
The concept of cyclopean masonry, with which the trilithic structure is associated, comes back into play, and with it the principle of heavy construction using a single material, which goes well beyond any modern approach.
The huge monoliths are transported to the building’s perimeter by a truck, from which they are directly and definitively assembled through means of a jib-crane positioned inside the site area. The initial layer of large stone blocks in contact with the terrain requires a layer of stabiliser along the contours of the project’s planimetric mesh. Before laying the monoliths, a 5 cm-thick layer of cement mortar is laid which, pressed down by the weight of the elements, forms a uniform, weight-distributing “cushion”, allowing a perfectly horizontal initial layer of stone blocks.
As regards the specifics of the building, it is important to note that it is composed solely of sturdy, solid masonry, created by laying saw-cut parallelepiped stone blocks on top of one another. The orientation of the main wall structure supporting the structural framework of the roof, is organised in parallel lines with spacing of about 5.20 m. The roof structure is formed by a continuous sequence of single-bay, rectangular-sectioned (10×24 cm) wooden beams, laid directly onto the walls and (where the walls are interrupted) onto cross-pieces, again of wood and with larger sections. The framework of beams in correspondence with the triliths of the pillar-lined patio is rotated 90°. Chipboard is fastened to the top of the structural framework (forming the intrados of the entire roof system), and is appropriately waterproofed to hold a layer of earth for the purpose of creating a heavy roof, in keeping with the stone elevation and capable of providing considerable thermal insulation. The load-bearing wooden beams project over the smooth, uniform stone façades of the building. The outer beams are assembled up against the outer row, forming a delicate cornice which accentuates the chiaroscuro effect of the upper fascia of the elevations.
The extreme linearity and sequential nature of the building methods make for maximum rationalisation of the whole building programme, thus reducing construction times and costs. The various phases of building – from the foundations to the roof – took just one month and required only a crane and two labourers under the architect’s direction. The simplicity of the building elements and the repetitive procedure of dry-mounting (monoliths arranged horizontally or vertically, timber structural work of parallel beams rhythmically repeated at regular distances) make for accurate planning of the progressive phases on site, using just a few environmentally-compatible materials.
On completion, the wine cellars of Vauvert reveal themselves through an unpretentious, spacious arrangement of volumes, naturally immersed in the gentle tilled landscape of the Camargue, some 20 kilometres from the coast, near the famous Pont-du-Gard built from the very same stone.

Alfonso Acocella

Note*
The essay (with the original title “Modern triliths: from Dom Hans van der Laan to Gilles Perraudin“) has been taken out from the volume by Alfonso Acocella, Stone Architecture. Ancient and modern constructive skills, Milan, Skira-Lucense, 2006, pp. 624.
¹ For the theoretical work of the architect and Benedictine monk, see essays contained in the volume by Alberto Ferlenga and Paola Verde, Dom Hans van der Laan. Works and Words, Phaidon Press Ltd., 2001, pp. 203.
² This affirmation was taken from Instruments of order (1989) by Alberto Ferlenga and Paola Verde for their book Dom Hans van der Laan. Works and Words, p.196, Phaidon Press Ltd., 2001, pp. 203.
³ George Kubler, “The propagation of things – Replication”, p.72, in The Shape of Time, Yale, 1972.
⁴ For a brief outline of the French arhcitect’s recent work, see Gilles Perraudin, by Mario Pisani, Melfi, LIBRiA, 2002, pp. 110. For specific in-depth information on the Vauvert wine cellars see NdR, “Wine Store in Vauvert”, Detail no.6, 1999, pp. 969-972; Agenzia G. Perraudin, “Wine Cellar”, Materia no.37, 2002, pp. 48-57; “Gilles Perraudin”, pp. 72-95 by Vincenzo Pavan, Le scritture della pietra, Milano, Skira, 2001, pp. 143.