Stories of power and sustainability: what does Avignon’s arc mean today?

Catholic chronicles and Louis Vuitton at the Palais des Papes: life in a dislocated center as a path to sustainability—Avignon, a UNESCO site, short supply chains, local jobs

Louis Vuitton, the show at the Palais des Papes in Avignon, and a signal of sustainability

A few days after the election of Pope Leo XIV—while cardinals convened in the Sistine Chapel and a film titled Conclave explored the twists that can lead to the papacy—Louis Vuitton staged a show at Avignon’s Palais des Papes. The event had been planned months earlier; no strategy could have foreseen or seized the winds of a global tempest, yet the timing felt choreographed. The opening set: a row of scanni—in  Italian language, we define a scanno as a chair, either isolated or in a series, marked by solemnity, austerity. Gothic-triangle backs, purple velvet, rough wood.

Today Avignon counts a bit over 90,000 inhabitants. By mounting a spectacle here, Louis Vuitton highlights the current sociological trend: an exodus from major cities to the countryside, trading Parisian frenzy for provincial Provence while remaining at the center of conversation. Sustainability can seem utopian, even a pretext—some brands, unwilling to exert the effort, avoid the topic altogether as if readers won’t notice. Without grand pronouncements, Vuitton in Avignon still signals sustainability—if sustainability lies in relocating urban aesthetics and worldly ambitions to a rural land.

Avignon still wears its medieval walls. Cars can barely circulate inside them. The Pont d’Avignon—the Pont Saint-Bénezet—is a symbol: a collapsed link that no one tried to rebuild. Legend says a boy named Benedict, divinely inspired, single-handedly moved the first boulder that founded the bridge—a bridge that let officials levy tolls between Spain and Italy and enriched the city.

Nicolas Ghesquière, Louis Vuitton in Avignon: Philip the Fair and Clement V

The Palais des Papes, a UNESCO site since 1995, is a fortified mass that students of medieval architecture revere—the Old Palace of Benedict and the New Palace of Clement. Harsh ramparts, towers and dizzying heights, black shivers and stark contrasts, raptors in the sky, wicked water-lilies drifting on the Rhône. Nicolas Ghesquière begins with the Gothic triangle, the same motif atop the scanno just mentioned: the first look is a teaser-chapter of the novel. Around the neck, a band like medieval armor: the bearing of Philip IV, called the Fair, who placed Clement V on the throne and then forced him to move the papal seat from Rome to Avignon. 

The tunic is a patchwork of pennants—marks of battles won or lost—stitched and reinforced, stiff for protection; the skirt returns in chain mail and echoes the studs on the boots. In other words, Ghesquière absorbs Avignon’s medieval story and translates it into Vuitton’s futuristic commercial language: trim silhouettes, a well-bred Rive Droite outfit on location, a dash of humor that may border on irreverence or nonchalance. Intellectual culture strikes a bargain with clientele seeking vanity, lightness, and ample self-gratification.

Fashion and the reputation crisis: against consumerism, history shows the future— the Middle Ages and Avignon

Luxury—fashion especially—is facing a reputation crisis that hits revenue: the consumerism brands must ride becomes the very ailment of everyday life and mutual respect, hence the drop in purchases. By recovering stories and cultures, by translating cultural messages into entertainment, even the utmost economic splendor may regain its purpose. Sustainability is a given—there is no other topic for luxury and the fashion that codes it—but if sustainability is absent, the cultural commitment of a historic past must point us toward tomorrow.

At the turn of the 14th century, Avignon belonged to the House of Anjou, direct line of the French kings, seated on the throne of Naples and holding the County of Provence. Pope Clement VI bought Avignon from Queen Joanna I of Naples for 80,000 florins in 1348—in exchange, he absolved her of the Duke of Calabria’s murder. From the 1300s onward, Avignon was papal territory, spanning modern history until the French Revolution. It was Clement VI who ordered the construction of today’s New Palace of the Popes.

Perhaps the life of a town like Avignon is the new dream of the progressive bourgeoisie: those who want engine-free mobility, short supply chains for materials and food, countryside—Provence—and, simply, sport on the river. That is what fashion serves today, and Louis Vuitton answers the call: it shines a light on corners most people half-forgot—Avignon flickers in our high-school memory of medieval history. The task is to find a detail and turn it into reading, no longer a distant dream.

Carlo Mazzoni