CHÂTEAU D’ORQUEVAUX, A PLACE THAT STAYS WITHIN YOU

There is a story imprinted in all of us. Perhaps we have forgotten it, perhaps we no longer remember who first told it, or why its fragments still live inside us. But it is there.

In my case, that story begins in my earliest memories, with the first fairy-tale books that awakened my imagination and settled forever somewhere deep within me. Later, I realized that it is only through art that we can preserve that important part of ourselves, not so that it remains inside me, but so that it can find its place in an immeasurable puzzle made up of those who will understand that world without too many explanations or unnecessary words.

I carry within me the call of distant, bygone, more romantic times, times in which grand art was created, art that demanded patience, work, admiration, and faith in the impossible. All of it had been sleeping somewhere inside me for a long time, and then it awakened when I arrived at Château d’Orquevaux, an 18th-century château where I came with one quiet but important task, to embrace myself as an artist.

From the very first moment, my anxiety and nervousness—because it was my first time attending an artist residency—were replaced by a sense of peace, immense gratitude, and an unexpected surge of optimism, as I felt that I was exactly where I was meant to be. Such moments are rare: moments when your thoughts do not wander in every direction but remain where your body is; when the physical, emotional, and spiritual come together as one, and you do not wish to be a bird or a cloud drifting far, far away... You are simply where you want to be.

Already in the first few days, somewhere within me, in waves, I felt an ache for what was standing right in front of me, because I knew I would miss this place beyond words. Even while I was still there, still looking through the window at the vastness of all the visible and invisible shades of dominant green, at the majestic swans, the dense treetops, the quiet paths of the French countryside, and the mist that made the entire scene even more mysterious and cinematic, I could already feel the glow of nostalgia. As if one part of me knew in advance that returning to real life after this would be difficult.

Because how do you return to an ordinary life after a place that feels like a dream?

How do you return to everyday life after two weeks of living in a château, having your own studio, creating without interruption, supported by people for whom this place means as much as it means to you, people who want to see you succeed because this is not a competition, because each of us was guiding the others through our own phase, our own voice, our own losses, and our hopes for the future?

Château d’Orquevaux is not just an artist residency. It is a space where time stands still, even though it somehow slips away in an instant, a place where you suddenly hear yourself more clearly, your thoughts, your paintings, your ideas, your doubts, but also your voice.

It is not hard to understand why Château d’Orquevaux has been recognized as one of the most beautiful artist residencies in the world, a place listed by Singulart among the ten most beautiful artist residency programs, and by Domus among fourteen outstanding architectural spaces hosting artist residencies. But what makes it special is not only the château, its history, the lake, the studios, or the French landscape, but the people who have turned all of it into a space where an artist feels seen, supported, and free.

There, I was surrounded by a community of creatives who understood one another without unnecessary explanations. Sometimes through a glance, sometimes through a few words, through an image, through silence, or through a conversation that begins in passing and stays with you for a long time.

Writers and painters created together, each in their own world, yet connected by the same need, to keep as little of ourselves locked inside as possible. Too much of us remains clenched, silent, heavy, cocooned within, both wanting and not wanting to be seen.

We also had the opportunity to paint live models, which was a completely new experience for me, both terrifying and brilliant at the same time. There is something special in that moment when there is no more time for overthinking, when the eye has to decide quickly, the hand has to follow what it sees, and you have to accept the imperfection of the process. It was one of those experiences that moves you out of your comfort zone, and precisely because of that, no matter how good or bad the drawing turns out, you feel proud of yourself for staying until the end, for opening yourself to something new.

In this entire experience, the thought connected to Denis Diderot felt especially powerful to me, the great French philosopher, writer, and art critic whose legacy is deeply woven into the history of Orquevaux. Diderot was one of those thinkers who was among the first to recognize much more in the artist than a craftsman, he recognized an individual who creates, thinks, feels, and has something to say. It felt as though this message ran through the entire residency, your voice matters, your perspective matters, what you carry within you deserves to exist outside of you. That is precisely why I decided to recreate his portrait, so that through it I could carry his legacy forward to us.

One of the most emotional moments for me was during Open Studio Day. It was the day when we all visited one another’s studios, with knots in our stomachs and sweaty palms, staying away from our own studios, yet close enough to catch a glance or a word. We wanted and did not want to know what others saw in what we had created. We left comments, traces, small messages of support. And then I returned to my studio and found the walls covered in colorful notes, carrying words I will remember forever, “Nina, your voice is beautiful. You belong to this era. Somehow, you managed to make the château look even more magical.” And many others I will always keep.

I stood in my studio, surrounded by those small messages, and I had no words. The tears came on their own.

It was one of those moments that cannot be planned, cannot be repeated, and cannot be fully explained. A moment in which you realize that what you create has found its way to someone, that people see you even though they have not known you for long, and that time, in truth, does not mean that much. Only the intensity of emotion and the desire to open ourselves to one another were what was needed.

I will hold on to that moment fiercely.

I feel a special gratitude to Beulah van Rensburg and Ziggy Attias, the owners and directors of the residency, artists who, despite everything they have created and achieved, remain incredibly humble, kind, attentive, and present. Their warmth can be felt in every part of this place. The same is true of the wonderful team, Flora, Antoine, Lea, and many others, who, with their smiles, eye for detail, constant care, and small gestures that were not small at all, made us feel welcomed and cared for. One of those moments was the champagne and cake prepared for all of us celebrating birthdays in June, including me, a moment I will always remember.

And I must not forget to praise the chef, because the food was truly outstanding, with so many delicious, healthy options even for vegetarians, and all the small sweet pleasures that made the days feel even warmer, from croissants, butter, and chocolate mousse to crème brûlée and all other delights in abundance.

Château d’Orquevaux gave me much more than a space to work. It gave me time for myself, it gave me peace, my new friends and mentors from Australia, the USA, Canada, New Zealand, and many other parts of the world. It gave me walks, conversations, evenings by the fire, laughter, silence, the lake, the swans, and Dusty, the little furry resident of the château who made this place feel even warmer. The combination of his royal posture, childlike curious nature, and strong desire for attention, love, and belonging to our artistic circle gave the whole experience a special palette of gentle and soft tones. His presence made everything feel complete, whole, and perfect, the feeling that, for a moment, I was living inside a film I may have once imagined myself, inside a story that had long been imprinted within me.

And perhaps the most beautiful thing of all is that one of my works, the painting of the château wrapped in mist, is now part of the château’s collection. Seeing my painting, which I titled “A Dream Came True,” exhibited in the Denis Diderot Gallery made me incredibly proud. It was one of those rare moments when a smile simply does not leave your face. A small part of me remained there, in a place that gave me so much.

This will be one of those very rare places that hurts because it reminds you just how vast and immeasurable life can be. The last time I felt this endless was during my master’s studies in Istanbul, when the world also seemed open to me, as if I were standing at the source of dreams that could come true, as if the universe were listening to me and nodding along.

And I know that, one day, I will return to it.