Meditate with… Jean Couty (1907-1991)

“What’s interesting about large formats is that you measure yourself by your own weight. » To hear the Lyon painter Jean Couty express himself in this way, we understand that someone who was an architect by training became a painter to confront the heaviness of existence. It must be said that in this year 1941, this is not a time for lightness. Once demobilized, the artist goes back to work, brush in hand.

In the Vaise district, the buildings neighboring the Balmont chapel house some Benedictine nuns. There they are in front of their meal table, hands clasped. It is the time of blessing, a simple prayer which gives thanks for the goods of the earth. In their large traditional attire – black dress and headdress, white breastplate and headband – these five motionless women look serious, marked. The refectory – or what serves as it – has only a simple fireplace in the background, enhanced with soft green timber panels.

On the long table covered with a white fabric, the white dishes offer their curves and shadows. A loaf of opened bread is placed next to the imposing tureen without a lid. The mimetic effect of this Last Supper composed of consecrated women is striking. For the painter, each nun carries her share of grace. “In the center, a sister who for me was Christ,” explains the author (who forgets one in passing); another, the youngest, expresses youth, the novitiate with freshness and the beauty of the world; another, the science of writing and finally, the last, daily work, that is to say Marthe. » A whole palette of spiritual life.