— — the city Auguste Perret rebuilt in concrete and light.
“Founded in 1517 by François I as a port at the mouth of the Seine. Nearly destroyed in September 1944, then rebuilt to a single architect's plan — Auguste Perret's grid of reinforced concrete, raised on a platform above the old streets. UNESCO listed the centre in 2005 for that rebuilding. Saint-Joseph's tower throws coloured light across its nave from Marguerite Huré's glass. — from the studio
Each tile is finished by hand in our Knoxville studio. Artwork is slowly infused into the ceramic surface under high heat and pressure, and rests beneath a thin glossy finish. The colour lives in the surface, not on top of it.
Pick any four 4-inch tiles — National Parks you've been to, a Smokies set, the four seasons of one place. $ for a set of , cork-backed, ready to live on the table.
Le Havre stands at the mouth of the Seine on the English Channel, in the Normandy region of northern France. Founded by royal letters patent of François I in 1517 to replace the silted port of Harfleur, it grew into one of the country's largest transatlantic harbours by the 19th century. Allied bombing in September 1944 destroyed about 80% of the centre. Reconstruction under the architect Auguste Perret followed a single concrete-frame plan. The city today holds near 165,000 residents.
Auguste Perret rebuilt the centre between 1945 and 1964 on a uniform grid raised above the old street level, using a modular prefabricated reinforced concrete frame at 6.24-metre intervals. UNESCO inscribed the post-war centre on the World Heritage List in 2005 as a rare complete example of mid-century urban planning. Saint-Joseph's Church, the tall lantern tower visible from the harbour, was completed posthumously in 1957. Inside, more than 12,700 panes of coloured glass by Marguerite Huré throw a slow-shifting light over the nave.
The Channel light here is the same light that drew Monet to nearby Étretat and Honfleur, and that Eugène Boudin first taught him to read. Boudin was born at Honfleur across the estuary in 1824. On clear afternoons the harbour mouth reads in pale silver, then turns slate at the tide. Inside Saint-Joseph's, the coloured glass is arranged by orientation — warmer reds and oranges to the east, cooler greens and blues to the west — so the nave changes colour as the day moves.