"Ou le songe devient la realite."

Where the dream becomes reality.

- Ferdinand Cheval


   - Cheval Biography

   - Online Resources

   - Folk Art Environments

   - Books and Catalogs

   - Directions, Hours, etc.


   - Best of the Bunch

   - East Facade

   - West Facade

   - Terrace

   - Inscriptions

   - Other Photos




These did not fit into any other category - the labyrinth, Cheval's wheelbarrow, indoor carvings.


Braving the heat, the cold
And even the ravages of time
I sometimes overcame nature
And triumphed over the elements
Thus I proved that whatever your age,
Whatever you wish to achieve
If you are courageous, persistent and hard working
You are sure to succeed.


The tunnel that runs through the palace's ground floor. It is covered with poems, animals and faces, swirls and patterns. And Mom.


Heads chisled above a doorway out of the tunnel. Angels, demons, goddesses, we're not sure.


The labyrinth that faces the palace about 100 feet from it. I think it was a vantage point from which to view the palace and contemplate your own mortality, as indicated by the sayings on it (see below). A detail of the clock on the labyrinth is shown below, along with translations of its phrases...


Les minutes perdues ... ne se rattrapent plus: The lost minutes... are never reclaimed.

Chaque fois que tu me regardes, tu vois ta vie qui s'en va: Each time you look at me you see your life that passes away.

Ce n'est pas le temps qui passe mais nous: It is not the time that passes, but we (us).

Le cadran de la vie: The dial of life.


The gated off enclave that holds Cheval's wheelbarrow, which he used to collect 100,000s of stones for the palace. The entire wall is covered with other phrases and poems, mostly about the joys and stuggles of creation and life itself. We are mortal, but our art is not.


The wheelbarrow itself. Translation: my partner in pain.

Elsewhere, he speaks for it:


I am his wheelbarrow
And for over 30 years
I have the honour
To be his companion
I am the faithful companion
of the clever worker
Who every day in the country
Was looking for his quota
Your Palace born out of a dream
We, your tools and companions
Witnessed your hard work
And from century to century
Will tell the tale to new generations
You, alone built This Temple of Marvels.


The guestbook, and my note.








All materials © Kristin Fiore 2001 - 2010. Use without permission strictly encouraged.