The medieval site of Orsan Priory is located in the dead centre of France and in the middle of nowhere. A 50-minute drive from the nearest decent-sized town, the former nunnery is surrounded on all sides by rolling wheat fields and Van Gogh-worthy bales. There is nothing around for miles, yet some 12,000 visitors make the trip here between April and October to take in its gardens – recognised as a Jardin Remarquable by the French Ministry of Culture.
In 2017, one such visitor was fashion designer Gareth Casey, the founder of Paris-based clothing label Casey Casey, known for its soft and sculptural mens- and womenswear. He was living in the Berry region when he and his partner, former civil servant Cyril Pearon, made a trip to the priory on a last-minute whim. “We didn’t know at the time, but the place was up for sale, and we were the last visitors on the very last day before it closed down,” recalls Casey. “I remember Cyril saying, ‘It’s such a shame.’ Then we looked at each other and just knew.”
The couple didn’t hesitate in buying the historic site, where four longhouse-style farm buildings, dating back to the 16th century with stone façades and steep-pitched roofs, border the prized gardens. Casey refers to the landscape design as “green architecture” as he walks along the hornbeam-lined gravel walkway to the 16-bed potager, the powdery-sweet scent of pink Rimbaud roses drifting in the early evening breeze. “It’s basically buildings without roofs – the hedges are walls with windows and arched doorways,” he says, dressed in a Casey Casey uniform of a loose linen shirt and cropped trousers. “Medieval gardens were designed to be seen from above – like God’s view. The layout is symbolic; they’re spaces for reflection and meditation, as well as, of course, food. There was always a productive kitchen garden that the nuns could live off.”
Orsan was established circa 1101 by Robert of Arbrissel, best known as the founder of the grand Fontevraud Abbey in the Loire Valley. When the evangelist preacher died within Orsan’s walls, his body was taken to Fontevraud, but his heart was buried here. For centuries this was a place of pilgrimage. The buildings burnt down in the 16th century but were partially rebuilt, then converted into a farm after the French Revolution, before falling into disrepair.
The site was rescued in 1991 by two architects: Patrice Taravella and Sonia Lesot, whose restoration project included the reinstatement of a medieval-style garden. While no documentation of the original Orsan scheme had survived the fire, the couple pored over records from French abbeys of the same period. Within the 47-hectare grounds spanning woodland and farmland, they mapped out four hectares of gardens – partitioned into 16 distinct spaces, framed by over 2km of hedging.
The layout elicits the excitement of discovery. From the central fountain in the cloister, planted with a quadrant of grapes, pathways set out in several directions. One route passes through sunlit beds of berries into “the labyrinth”: an area of concentric walkways, its design symbolic of the path to salvation, lined with twisted plum and pear trees and swathes of shoulder-height white achillea. In another plot, herb and medicine gardens overflow with lavender and rosemary, Swiss chard and rhubarb, and an extraordinary range of mint. Fruit orchards are heavy with apples (pressed into juice each season and available to buy from the on-site shop alongside Pearon’s homemade jams). Meadows are carpeted with wild garlic and bluebells. A rose garden blooms beside the building that is home to Casey and Pearon and their two dogs, Newton and Nelson – a Weimaraner and a Vizsla.
Casey was born in Hitchin, Hertfordshire, and moved to France in the early 1990s. He explored several creative pursuits – ceramics, painting, sculpture – before eventually launching his brand in 2008. Long a favourite at Dover Street Market, Casey Casey centres on loose, covered-up silhouettes in a palette that skews muted and earthy. Natural fabrics do the talking: the label’s signature paper-cotton garments – crinkled and softening with wear – sit alongside waxed-cotton outerwear and, this season, cashmere and heavy hand-knit wool. While its flagship boutique is on Paris’s Left Bank, its fanbase is global, says Casey: Japan and the US are among its biggest markets.
Casey met Pearon, then working in youth education and sports, in Paris in 2008. Sturdy and quietly reserved, Pearon has the earthiness of a true Berrichon. He was born and brought up nearby in the town of Déols. “The people from Berry tend to be wary of others,” he says. “If someone new arrives in the village, it might take a few months before they feel like they belong.”
Neither of the duo would say they had green fingers before taking on this project. Now, alongside other responsibilities, Pearon oversees three full-time gardeners – while Casey splits his time between Paris and Orsan. “Each of us plays to our respective strengths,” says Casey of their collaboration. “I deal with all the artistic direction in the garden and Cyril all the planning organisation and development.”
Their shared priority is an ecological one – specifically, eliminating the use of pesticides and improving soil quality. “We focused on restoring humus and nutrients, mulching the surface seasonally and keeping a strict no-dig policy,” says Casey. “It’s taken about seven years, and we’re almost there.” The gardens teem with bees, butterflies, birds and even two bat colonies that are under the surveillance of the local chiropterology society. Mole holes pop up regularly; at night, frogs set the dogs barking.
Building resilience to the changing climate is key. On the June day I visited, it was a suffocating 37°C, and the effects are visible: an entire pear orchard is dying, the ivy on the wall of their house is retreating, and fields of yellow and white tulips now bloom long before the gates open in spring. “It changes every year,” says Pearon, highlighting how they are working with experts at the Royal Horticultural Society to rescue plants under stress and replant with heat-resistant varieties and hardier natives.
Their revitalisation of the space has piqued local interest. Summer visitors have doubled since they took over. The shop brims not only with site-made produce, but also gardening books and tools, and a whole wall of wooden birdhouses; this autumn, the seasonal café will be transformed into a restaurant. “We want to save this place,” says Casey. “We haven’t got family to pass it on to, but the hope is that we’ll leave it better than we found it – and that it will exist long after us.”