National Geographic : 1975 May
than anyone before him, and he painted this luminous vision with a probing passion that, quite unintentionally, revolutionized modern art. In Provence nature now imitates Cezanne. On the beaches of St. Tropez last summer, nature was imitating nature as more and more of the younger generation divested themselves of what used to be known as bathing costumes (page 710). Despite these attractions there were too many people, too many yachts, too many cars. We were glad to regain the cool uplands of St. Martin, where I talked with a young mason of Moissac Bellevue, Leo Artaud, who was working with Tony to restore a ruin on our land. Artaud had been offered and declined a well-paid construction job on the coast. "There's a difference between the coast and Upper Provence," he said. "Not just the scenery. It's a moral thing, something you feel. I'd rather raise my kids up here. Things are changing too fast on the coast. "We have something worth preserving here: real blacksmiths, real houses, real bread, real peasants who work the earth. We want to hold onto it as long as we can." 0 Bearing riches to the winepress, a farmer hauls hand-picked grapes by tractor (left), a rarity in Upper Provence, where traditions resist technology. Wine cooperatives in each town reward the villagers for their work at harvest time. Author William Davenport received 100 bottles of red wine for a week's labor in Aups. Cherishing pastoral ways, a shepherd (above) holds a lamb in a meadow near the author's house, St. Martin, outside Regusse.