Winter Residencies 2019-2020


I will be offering a limited number of winter residencies between late November 2019 and March 2020. These stays have the following conditions:

  • A minimum duration of one week, maximum two weeks
  • Self-catering or half-pension; full pension stays will not be available during this time
  • Residents must be capable of carrying logs for the fire and be happy to learn to run the wood stoves (there are two to be kept in – I’m happy to teach!). One wood stove is up a flight of stairs. Please do not expect a building heated to 25° (~70°) – this is an old stone building that comes with it’s own crankiness and the occasional draft.
  • A very generous amount of firewood is provided but if you require more wood than we provide this is at your own cost.
  • I cannot accommodate painters during the winter as I have no indoor studio space.
  • Residents -must- have travel insurance in case of major storms on either end of your trip.

Wildflowers in March

Winter in the foothills of the Pyrenees can be quite variable. It generally frosts lightly at night, though hard frosts do come, especially later in winter. We can also have amazingly sunny stretches with glorious views.  Snow has been rare the last few years but it can snow from time to time.

If you are a keen skiier, think about renting a car as we are just an hour from a few different ski resorts. There is a lot of nice walking to be done in the immediate area as well.

If you are interested in coming to Bordeneuve this winter, drop me an email at and I can answer any questions you may have.

Annie Higgins on flexing her ‘I don’t give a – ” muscle

I’ve been home from my residency at Bordeneuve for a little over two months now, and it literally feels like it happened in another world, on another planet, devoid of time and space. It feels like a time in my life when time stopped.

Back at home in Chicago, I am well aware of time. I’m back to my routines:  working for a contemporary music ensemble called eighth blackbird, teaching a couple of piano lessons around town, songwriting and performing in a Chicago pop band called Weatherman, and trying not to get sad because I have such little time for myself. Somehow my days and nights get booked up weeks and sometimes months in advance. That’s why carving out time to sit in front of a piano for two full weeks felt so other-worldly. My days were blown wide open.

At first I felt the self-imposed pressure of not wanting to waste any time, a feeling I am familiar with as time is such a precious commodity. I quickly realized that this pressure did not work tangentially with the atmosphere I needed in order to create. So instead I swung in the other direction – I went for long walks, tried to take naps during the day, played a little with the rooster, and remembered what it felt like to be free enough to write something bad; to write something without thinking about the outcome. I can’t say I succeeded at that, but I certainly did get the opportunity to exercise the “I don’t give a —-” muscle. I think sometimes my best writing comes when I am not thinking of an audience, a goal, an aim, but am purely expressing something that I think is beautiful. The ability to express that feels as important as breathing sometimes, I feel so connected to it. Yet the world that I live in requires me to live in it, which comes with certain responsibilities that become all consuming. Taking an intentional step away from that world to do what feels most natural was one of the smartest decisions I’ve made in years. I felt as if I was in my natural habitat, when I was at Bordeneuve. Because I felt that way while I was there, there are things that I am desperately trying to integrate into my life back in Chicago, with the hope that I can re-create a similar state of mind. It’s too early to tell how successful I will be–I continue to be pulled in a million different directions; many of which I am excited about. But I feel I have an anchor now planted in the experience of being alone with myself in my natural habitat; with a piano and without a responsibility.


Entering Dreamland

At the end of the summer, I had the pleasure of hosting the young writer, Heidi Hamalainen, who set herself the enormous task of seriously advancing her first novel while here. This is a copy of the post that Heidi put up later on her blog, UrbanJungleBird. Heidi is not only a talented writer but a gifted photographer as well. Many thanks to her for letting me use some of the photos that she took while here.

I Entered a Dreamland

The dreamland was called Bordeneuve Retreat, a rustic barn dwelling in the Midi-Pyrénées nestled in the south of France and not too far from the Spanish border. Cocks crowed, wine flowed and flowers bloomed in colourful glory, butterflies drifted like chimeric fairies and bees hummed a chorus that was caught on the bars of the gentle summer breeze. It was here I reacquainted with a long lost friend, my novel.

Bordeneuve is a retreat available to writers, artists and musicians by application. I had applied toward the end of last year and was grateful and excited to be accepted to spend two weeks working on material I had long neglected. Four months of travel was booked in beforehand to gather my thoughts and absorb inspiration from all of the new places I was to visit in Europe, but, as the time of the retreat inevitably approached I was struck with an underlying sense of foreboding. What if I no longer knew how to write or tell my story, or what if I simply didn’t care about it any more? The week leading up to my flight to France was panic-inducing as I became increasingly anxious. I even considered cancelling my stay. So long deposit. So long novel. But I did what I always do in these situations and forced my rational brain to kick in. If I got there and decided I was no longer interested in my work I still had a new destination to explore. I love travel after all. But as it happened, I was able to do both.

Before arriving at Bordeneuve I could no longer visualise finishing my story. I had an ending but the plot was lacking those vital parts in the middle that connects your protagonist with all of the occurring events and characters that are meant to tell a story. She, my main character, was floating in a fuzzy lit-space with no gravity to pull her down to earth. However, as soon as I was greeted by Noelle, the retreats simultaneously energetic and peacefully calming owner who picked me up from the train station, I knew I had made the right decision. After a short drive through some pretty hay-bale-and-apple-pie countryside, we drove down (or rather, Noelle expertly maneuvered) a winding and fantastically overgrown drive to her house—a quaint centuries old abode with the retreat a separate dwelling beside it. I was shown into the barn where I was to stay, a gorgeous two-story eco-friendly structure with all the amenities you could need downstairs, and a studio to work in on the second level. I spent most of my time out on the veranda that opened from the studio upstairs, working and taking in every moment of this truly magical place, and wondering how I’d had the luck to fall down a rabbit-hole and land there. My protagonist is now well-grounded with purpose, and I look forward to finishing my studies this year so I can throw myself back into my work.

I can’t emphasize enough how important it is to find somewhere to completely and absolutely let go of the outside world and any daily preoccupations, to allow time and space to focus on yourself and your passions. Granted not everyone can just skip off to a piece of French heaven to do this (I won’t lie, it helps if you have the means), so even if it’s in your own home and you find a quiet corner at a certain time of the day or week where you know you won’t be disturbed, mark it as your time and guard your precious sanctuary.

Her rampant imagination

In April every year, Irina Pivavorova sneaks silently out the door, leaving her daughters in the care of her husband, the snow to melt in the cool Moscow light and her TV shows (she is one of the most sought after screenwriters in Russia) to take care of themselves. She arrives here at Bordeneuve, spreads her drawing and writing tools out on the big worktable upstairs and spends two weeks dreaming, crafting, teasing the bedtime stories she tells to her children, into life. I’m so grateful to her for allowing me to share these exquisite drawings with you. Irina is a writer by trade but as you can see, she is also uniquely gifted artist with a wild, delightful imagination. You can see more of her work on Instagram. All images are copyrighted to Irina Pivavarova.


The Lost Art of Silverpoint

Mombretia Maze, Jeannine Cook

Mombretia Maze, Jeannine Cook

When Jeannine Cook first contacted me about a residency, I had to look up the term ‘silverpoint’ to find out what it even meant. After a bit of Googling around and a long appreciative look at Jeannine’s beautiful website, I was hooked. Jeannine practices an art that dates back over a millenia and is practiced by only a few dozen artists today. Spending time with Jeannine is an exercise in seeing the world anew: she finds inspiration in the most miniscule of details, beauty in the arc of a leaf’s veins, the swirl of mica in a stone, the cracked seedhead of last year’s flowers. Read on to learn more about this elegant, austere artform as well as about her time at Bordeneuve.

Traces IV-V-VI by Jeannine Cook

Traces IV-V-VI by Jeannine Cook

Few people have the experience of seeing the lustrous shimmer of silver, gold, platinum or copper drawings on prepared paper. When viewers learn of metalpoint drawing’s rich heritage, with eclipses and renaissances undulating through its thirteen-century life, they are captivated.

 My passion has long been to share these drawings’ diverse beauties with the public.  I find metalpoint to be addictive, meditative, and disarmingly humble in its technical requirements.  Yes, you cannot erase marks made on a prepared surface, but otherwise, a stylus, smooth prepared paper or vellum, good light and time are the only other requirements.

 Metalpoint allows a great delicacy of line and subtle tonality. A white ground suits botanical studies, landscapes, portraits… Recently I have also been using a black ground for very different results, “abstracts” from tree bark, details of stones, etc.  Silver is the preferred metal for a white ground while gold, silver and copper behave totally differently on a black ground.  Both forms of metalpoint are intimate in their shimmer, totally permanent and amazingly contemporary in feel.

Cedar Lines, gold and silverpoint by Jeannine Cook

Cedar Lines, gold and silverpoint by Jeannine Cook

The silence is gentle and all-pervasive.  The tracery of bare branches is filigree lace against the azure of clean-washed skies.   The sense of ancient time is almost palpable, traced by the shiny stones laid down the track to Bordeneuve so many aeons ago. The early inhabitants of Betchat, Ariège, walked this way long before this village was even founded.  Links to the past are centering, renewing.

This is the magical place to come to gather one’s thoughts and energies, then to create art and allow oneself to venture into new voices in one’s work.   Meals are not only delicious; they are also a time of stimulating, thoughtful explorations of subjects large and small.

I savour of each day here, as I try to draw my lustrous but discreet metalpoint drawings. They are sufficiently demanding of execution that the quiet peace here is hugely helpful. Even the stones that I have gathered down by the bustling river below us offer a fascination and sense of connection as I draw them in silver and gold, weaving their characteristics into work that is seemingly abstract but realistic in fact.  These stones speak of the amazing geologically diversity of these ancient Pyrenees mountains that punctuate this world’s horizons with their snowy peaks. I like the sense of unity that is so perceptible here.

Bordenueve is one of those magical places to which one promptly wants to return, even before one has left…

Huitres de Chablis by Jeannine Cook

Huitres de Chablis by Jeannine Cook

Enduring Elegance by Jeannine Cook

Enduring Elegance by Jeannine Cook