In the centre of Tonnerre, a small town between Chablis and Vézelay in north-central France, is the Fosse Dionne, a peculiar turquoise pool with more than 300 litres of water flowing through it per second. Deriving its name from the ancient goddess Divona, this karst spring has confounded all geological investigations. Three professional divers have perished trying to locate its source, which remains a mystery to this day, while tales of miracles, murderous basilisks and portals to other worlds abound. It certainly left Laurent Jaffrennou spellbound. Soon after visiting Tonnerre in 2020, the artist and antique dealer bought three derelict houses adjacent to this puzzling pond. ‘I immediately started imagining things and making plans,’ he recalls. ‘The scene reminded me of 17th-century Dutch painting – Vermeer, but especially Pieter de Hooch. It was that type of painting that inspired me, combined with the magic of the Fosse Dionne, which is close enough for me to hear the sound of the water flowing.’
It was the time of Covid. In Paris, Laurent’s studio had just been demolished, and his stall at the Clignancourt flea market had closed. His gallerist friends took him to Tonnerre, a part of Burgundy rich in wines, abbeys and castles, where, in 2020, everything was dying and everything was for sale. And so, paying about £12,500, he bought a kind of cul-de-sac consisting of three dilapidated houses opening on to the main street, which had been part of the town’s outskirts until the 18th century – the era, incidentally, when the Chevalier d’Eon, Louis XV’s cross-dressing spy and diplomat, was living locally en travestie.
The first house, which looks on to the street, previously had a shop on its ground floor. When I visit, Laurent has started work on the old kitchen and, upstairs, has created a modest apartment, where he plans to live during the summer. The second, which overlooks an alleyway, is still a work in progress. For the time being, he lives in the third building in a flat above a large barn in which he stores his building materials (he does all of the work himself). From upstairs he has views of the town’s roofs; the church of Saint-Pierre, which dates to the 16th century; and the garden, an old vineyard that was cultivated until 1913 and where green-fingered Laurent has planted herbs, roses and all kinds of perennials, while chickens roam freely indoors.
After climbing a narrow wooden staircase, on which no visitor could ever tread unannounced, we come to a large living room, where Laurent takes lunch and receives guests. On one side, it connects with a small kitchen overlooking the garden; on the other, a studio takes in a winter plot and the alley. This room is where Laurent draws, puts together funny little paper sculptures and often paints watercolours of the Fosse Dionne, which is a recurring motif throughout the flat. ‘I am always going back to geometry when I draw and am particularly haunted by the circle,’ he says. ‘The ever-changing colour of the Fosse due to light reminds me of the nuances I love in old textiles and faded carpets.’
Sandwiched between the living room and the studio is an alcove, enveloped in ancient textiles and crammed with books, which serves as a winter bedroom. Large wood-burning stoves sit in front of fireplaces, which have been stripped of their ugly marble and covered with painted wood. To separate the rooms, Laurent has built glazed partitions using reclaimed wood from houses that were being demolished in Tonnerre or from nearby recycling centres. He’s made around 60 return trips to such places while working on the houses, and is still far from finished.
At Clignancourt, he was known for his tiny but well-stocked boutique, chockfull of pieces accumulated during his travels. After studying fine art in Paris, he spent a year in Cairo, before journeying on to Syria, Yemen and Libya, where he was overwhelmed by the white deserts and salt lakes. In fact, he painted them. Their ‘weirdness’ gave him this taste for the Fosse Dionne, from which he takes the water for his paints today. ‘Don’t ask me why,’ he says. On returning to France, he divided his time between art and antiques.
Today, he’s creating a bold, theatrical environment, reflecting a taste he shares with many well-travelled connoisseurs like him. What distinguishes Laurent, however, is his composition, the way he arranges objects, layers things. He builds rooms like a painting, aware that yellow daffodils can flirt with delft earthenware and that wild roses can brighten up grey woodwork. He stages things casually.
He loves earthenware from the 17th and 18th centuries. Thick, shiny, sensual, often blue and white, it might come from the Netherlands, Nevers, Rouen or Moustiers. But he’s also been known to favour white bowls, known as cul noir or Burgundy earthenware. He likes textiles from the same periods, often from Indonesia, Yemen or Egypt, although they can just as easily come from the depths of the Jura. The rugs are Persian and Caucasian, the tools on display from Kashmir or Bukhara. Whether geometric or floral, the dark reds and indigo blues never wane. An assortment of prayer rugs, little and large, are spread across entire rooms, the concrete floors of which had been covered with linoleum. He overlaps them. He pays careful attention to their thickness, the density of the stitches and knots. But these wonders of refinement are always a little worn, some with holes. The earthenware is cracked, perhaps repaired by anonymous craftsmen, like the one on his table, a 17th-century pot mended by a tinsmith 200 years later.
Once, during a sale at the Château de Pontchartrain, Laurent rummaged through what looked like a bin bag, filled with pieces of an 18th-century chair. He found a Delaporte stamp, an old horse- hair trim and pieces of indigo canvas. He left it where it was. One month later, he saw the same rubbish bag at the market, now much cheaper. The artist bought it and pieced together the jigsaw puzzle of a chair, which now stands in his summer house. Patching up, reconstructing, bringing back to life, like Japanese kintsugi, repairing to create new art.
These are the driving forces behind Laurent’s poetic vision, one revealed in his soulful paintings and environment. This human being inhabits a state of reverie, pulling inspiration from near and far into his home. Most recently, it came from a blue hole.
Laurent Jaffrennou’s home will be open to the public from 25 to 26 Oct as part of Art Site, a weekend of artist open studios in Tonnerre
A version of this article originally appeared in the August 2025 issue of ‘The World of Interiors’. Subscribe today
