Musée Fabre

Step inside and let your eyes adjust to the soft museum light. The noise of the street fades behind you. Ahead, room opens into room, each wall lined with paintings in gold frames. The floors are quiet underfoot. Here in the heart of Montpellier, the Musee Fabre holds centuries of European art, waiting patiently for visitors who take their time. It is one of the great fine arts collections in all of France.

The museum carries the name of one man, Francois-Xavier Fabre. He was a painter, born in Montpellier, who spent years in Italy collecting art. When he returned, he wanted to give something lasting to his home city. In 1825 the town council accepted his large donation of works, and the museum was born from that single generous gift.

The collection found its first home in a refurbished mansion called the Hotel de Massillian. The doors officially opened to the public on the third of December, 1828. From the start, the museum was meant for the people of the city, a place where anyone could stand close to great paintings and study them without paying a fortune.

Fabre's gift inspired others to follow. A collector named Antoine Valedau gave his Dutch and Flemish masters to the city. Later, in 1868, a man named Alfred Bruyas handed over the works from his private gallery. Bruyas is often credited with bringing the collection into the modern age, opening its doors to the painters of his own century.

Today the museum's holdings are vast. The galleries can show around eight hundred paintings, nine hundred engravings, and several thousand drawings. The works span from the fourteenth century all the way to our own time. Walking the rooms in order is like watching the history of European art unfold slowly, one style giving way to the next. Few cities of this size hold a collection so deep and so wide.

Look for the great names as you go. There are works connected to Rubens, with their warm color and movement. There are paintings by Delacroix, full of drama and feeling. There is Courbet, who painted the world plainly and honestly. Each artist offers a different way of seeing, and the museum sets them side by side for comparison.

One story deserves special attention. The painter Gustave Courbet shared a deep friendship with the collector Alfred Bruyas, and several of their exchanges live in these rooms. Look in particular for a famous scene of the artist greeting his patron on a country road. It is a quiet meeting of two men, and also a meeting of art and money. The collector wears fine clothes; the painter carries his tools and his pride.

The museum also holds a remarkable group of works by Pierre Soulages. He was a French painter known for his deep, layered use of black. Light catches the ridges of the thick paint and changes as you move. Stand before one of these canvases and shift your weight from side to side. The surface seems to answer you.

Between 2003 and 2007 the building went through a long and costly renovation. The project cost more than sixty million euros. New galleries were added, and old spaces were opened up and filled with light. When the museum reopened in 2007, it joined the front rank of fine arts museums in France, both for its art and its setting. Visitors who had known the old building hardly recognized the new one.

Take time with the building itself, not only the paintings. The renovation joined older historic rooms to clean modern halls. You pass from grand classical decoration into calm white spaces and back again. The contrast keeps your eye fresh. Each kind of room asks you to look at the art in a slightly different mood.

Find a bench in one of the larger galleries and simply sit. Let a single painting hold you for a while. Notice the brushwork, the direction of the light, and the small details in a corner. Museums reward the slow visitor far more than the quick one. The longer you look, the more each canvas seems to give. A face you passed at first glance may slowly reveal its sorrow or its calm.

When you finally step back out into the daylight, the city will feel a little different. The colors of the streets, the faces of passersby, and the shadows on the stone may all seem sharper. That is the quiet gift of the Musee Fabre. It teaches the eye to see, and then it sends you back out to practice.