Boats at anchor next to the inlet of Vallon des Auffes. Opposite: Mucem is a museum that is helping to revive Marseille’s pan-Mediterranean links
PHOTOGRAPHS ADRIENNE PITTS @hellopoe
AT THE ENTRANCE TO MARSEILLE’S Vieux Port, the sea is having a lively day. Foamy waves slap the breakwaters and mount fruitless assaults on the ramparts of Fort Saint-Jean. It’s a radiant afternoon all the same, and every crenellation in the battlements is occupied: people seated in singles or pairs, with books, music or beer.
The fort was built to guard a harbour that has welcomed Mediterranean travellers since 600 BC, and both played a part in my own unusual reason for coming here. A few years ago I read David Abulafia’s The Great Sea, a history of the region, and found myself moved by tales of cities that had once been brilliant crossroads of trade and cultures, before that spark was put out. Sometimes the money simply moved elsewhere, but all too often, ugly politics turned famous Mediterranean ports that had been home to multiple languages and religions into narrower versions of themselves. When I closed my book, I wondered if there was one city where this spirit of the ‘old Mediterranean’ survives, and - warming to my theme - where I would choose as the unofficial capital of the region in the 21st century. I settled on one lead candidate, and set out to test my theory.
Fort Saint-Jean is Exhibit A, not just for its historic significance or being joyfully appropriated for Mediterranean outdoors life, but because it’s one half of Mucem - the Museum of the Civilisations of Europe and the Mediterranean. This bold statement of a museum opened in 2013, as part of Marseille’s turn as European Capital of Culture. Its main, modern component is a striking building clad in a lattice that echoes the water’s ruffled surface. When its construction was first planned, however, the city was not an obvious choice for prestige projects.
‘In Marseille’s history you had some golden periods and some darker times,’ says Adrien Joly, head of development at Mucem, over a coffee at a lattice-dappled table on the museum’s rooftop terrace. In the 19th century, the port grew rich as France’s gateway to its colonies, and after the Suez Canal opened, it was also a favourite stop for many British travellers en route to India. ‘The whole of high society would spend a night in the city, and there was always traffic and merchandise going through.’ Like most big ports, Marseille had its gritty side even at the peak of its wealth, but after WWII it went into decline as empires dissolved and air travel overtook ocean liners. The criminal underworld pictured in The French Connection in 1971 was just a foretaste of the city’s troubled reputation by the end of the 20th century.
‘I think we have passed our lowest point and are now going up,’ says Adrien. ‘Mucem is a symbol of Marseille trying to reconnect with its old roots.’ It isn’t the biggest project in town; that would be EuroMéditerranée, the redevelopment of five miles of docks running north from here. But Mucem has helped to boost the number of museum visits in Marseille more than 25-fold, whether that’s from once-sceptical out-oftowners or locals on a lunch break, strolling the dizzying ramparts and walkways.
‘MUCEM IS A BOLD STATEMENT OF A MUSEUM, A STRIKING BUILDING CLAD IN A LATTICE THAT ECHOES THE WATER’S RUFFLED SURFACE’
Mucem is a museum in two parts: the 21st-century quayside building and the stone-built Fort Saint-Jean, dating from 1660
CITY OF TRAVELLERS