‘We came away awestruck’: 13 writers on Europe’s hidden treasures, from Chagall in Kent to Rome’s secret Caravaggios

17.01.2024 - 12:07 / theguardian.com / Renzo Piano / Tracey Emin / Frank Gehry / Richard Serra / Alexander Calder / Art

When you have a partner obsessed with architecture, you can’t expect to go on holiday without a detour to see some building or another. So if it’s a city break, that usually means a walking tour of the architectural highlights interspersed with visits to art galleries.

But when we heard about Château La Coste it became clear that this would not be a mere detour but the entire reason for our trip to Provence. The sculpture park, art destination and wine estate is a roll call of many of the world’s greatest architects, including Richard Rogers, Oscar Niemeyer, Kengo Kuma and Renzo Piano, as well as home to installations by contemporary figures such as Richard Serra and Ai Weiwei.

So in 2017 we arrived at the 200-hectare estate through Tadao Ando’s concrete gates to be greeted by the Japanese architect’s arts centre, a building of glass and concrete shimmering in a pool of water. We stopped to admire Louise Bourgeois’s Crouching Spider and Alexander Calder’s Small Crinkly mobile before setting off on a two-hour trek through the estate, where we stumbled on a panoply of sculptures and buildings, including Sean Scully’s Boxes Full of Air, Tracey Emin’s playful Cat Inside a Barrel, plus the promised architectural highlights of Ando’s chapel and Frank Gehry’s Pavillon de Musique.

Once we’d worked up an appetite, we headed to the chateau’s outdoor restaurant, La Terrasse. Sitting under the vines enjoying a glass of ice-cold rosé (made on the estate) and a plate of cheese, we argued – and disagreed – passionately about what we thought were the best pieces. Then we paid the bill and did it all again through rosé-tinted glasses.

Château La Coste is a 30-minute drive from Aix-en-Provence TGV train station, which means Paris is a three-hour train ride away.
Max Benato

It was 1975, a school night. My parents had gone out and left my elder brother babysitting me. I knew the routine, bed by 8.30pm, lights out at 9. It was a Monday and BBC One had a tradition of the Monday Night Film. My mum had never allowed me to watch one of these screenings. However, my brother played by different rules …

“You should watch this movie, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly,” he said as I brushed my teeth. “Don’t worry, Mum and Dad won’t be back for ages.” I settled into the couch, intrigued and excited.

The film and its music blew my mind. Now, aged 58, I realise that this innocuous evening was a turning point that defined the rest of my life. I was shocked by how exciting it was but the climax of the film – in a massive deserted civil war graveyard – really sent me into a spin. Nowadays it’s regarded as the definitive example of how to combine music, framing and editing to create an effect that adds up to stratospherically more than the