The Château Office: A Working Room Full of Character

 The Château Office: A Working Room Full of Character

Photos later

One of the pleasures of exploring Château Marouatte is discovering the rooms that aren’t necessarily meant to impress. They are simply part of the everyday workings of the château. The office is a perfect example.

You enter through a single door into a room that feels less like a conventional office and more like a collection of different centuries that have somehow learned to live together.

Immediately noticeable are the warm peach-colored walls, red carpeting and massive exposed wooden beams. There is nothing sleek or corporate here. The furniture has weight and age. Wooden desks and cabinets show the marks of years of use, while books, papers, photographs, artwork and practical office equipment fill almost every available surface.

One of the most striking architectural features is a pair of enormous wooden doors along one side of the room. I initially thought they were an entrance, but they are actually storage doors. They are extraordinary for such a practical purpose.

Made from vertical planks of warm, honey-colored wood, the doors are decorated with elaborate wrought-iron strap hinges. The iron curls into large scrolls and branching shapes, with small leaf and trefoil details. The wood is scratched and worn and the iron has darkened with age. They are wonderfully imperfect. Even a storage cupboard at Marouatte can apparently have more character than the front door of many houses.

Then, tucked into an alcove on the opposite side of the room, is something completely unexpected.

A vintage Rock-Ola jukebox.

Its rounded burgundy body, chrome bands, curved glass and exuberant decorative front look as though it wandered in from a mid-century American café and decided to stay. The chrome scrollwork and jewel-like red accents make it almost architectural in its own right.

A jukebox in a French château office. Of course.

Beside it are two completely different armchairs. One is covered with a wonderfully busy botanical fabric of flowers and curling leaves. The other is a more restrained high-backed chair. A small round table between them holds a few books, creating a casual little sitting area.

Above the chairs hangs one of the room’s most memorable paintings. Three formally dressed musicians gather around a keyboard instrument, with another holding a violin. Their historical clothing contrasts with the painting’s bold, contemporary graphic style. Portraits hover behind them, giving the scene an almost theatrical quality.

The rest of the office continues this wonderfully uncurated mixture.

An old wooden desk occupies the center of the room, topped with folders, papers and a modern printer. Electrical cords run across the carpet. Filing cabinets sit beneath antique furniture. A fan occupies a counter. Books fill shelves beside patterned tiles, framed pictures and small objects collected over time.

At the back stands a substantial dark wooden cabinet and writing desk filled with photographs, ceramics, books, papers and artwork. Above it is a long decorative panel filled with sailing ships. Nearby, an old stone structural support and heavy timber beam provide another reminder that the building surrounding all these everyday objects has a much longer history.

There is even a brass chandelier overhead, because apparently fluorescent office lighting simply wouldn’t do here.

What I particularly like about the château office is that no one seems to have tried to make it into a museum.

It is a working room.

The château has to be managed. Papers have to be filed. Things need to be printed. Supplies have to be stored. Phones need charging. Modern electrical cords have to find their way to outlets in walls that were never designed with such things in mind.

And all of that happens among old beams, heavy wooden furniture, elaborate ironwork, paintings, rugs, books and a vintage jukebox.

The office may not be one of Château Marouatte’s grand ceremonial rooms, but in some ways it tells me more about the château than those rooms do.

This is what happens when an old building isn’t frozen in time.

It continues to live.