A strong sense of well-being invades anyone who sets foot in Sonia Bolduc’s warm living room. Her old furniture, recovered here and there, each of which finds its place in this mismatched assembly, contributes to the message: everyone is welcomed as they are in this house.
Letting live is indeed at the heart of the nature of this former journalist, potter and accomplished poet in her spare time, now head of communications for the theatre company Du double signe, in Sherbrooke. She shares her life with TV producer Annick Sauvé, also an art photographer. Their house in Racine, in the middle of the countryside, is a meeting place for friends from all walks of life, who come for impromptu coffees, parties, musical evenings and small salon shows.
Here, the floor is made for dancing and the chairs are designed for getting away, says Sonia Bolduc.
“I like the idea that the house is a meeting point, and a reunion point, for people who know each other. But also for people who don’t know each other or don’t come from the same background,” admits the woman who wrote a column for years in The gallery from Sherbrooke.
I like to see business people, artists, teachers, old and young people gathered around the fire, in the same space, and they all feel at home. Then I can say that the house is lived in, not decorated.
Sonia Bolduc
PHOTO ANNICK SAUVÉ, PROVIDED BY SONIA BOLDUC
View of the living room of the old farmhouse, with the upright piano in the background
This authentic hospitality is embodied in this large room that exudes the feel of a chalet vacation. Stacks of books are piled up everywhere in the old farmhouse. The old upright piano is inviting. The wind blows through the windows and the doors are always wide open. You enter simply by wiping your feet.
“I tell people to keep their shoes on because in two minutes we’re going to be walking in the garden or in the woods,” says M.me Bolduc.
“I would never tell someone not to watch the housework. That’s not the important thing. Above all, I want people to find the most comfortable armchair to look outside, pick up a book, listen to music, chat, drink, eat… And often, after 15 minutes, they end up saying “God, it’s nice at your place!”
Friends kept close
PHOTO ANNICK SAUVÉ, PROVIDED BY SONIA BOLDUC
Old benches recovered from the Granada Theater in Sherbrooke
The beautiful house of the Bolduc-Sauvé couple dates from the second half of the 19th century.e century. The two women bought this dream house from a friend who, like them, cultivates occasions to celebrate. The latter had already knocked down the partitions on the ground floor so as not to hinder discussions between the hearth and the stove. The old beams on the ceiling hint at the rooms of yesteryear.
Today, only the furniture separates the living room, the kitchen and the dining room.
PHOTO ANNICK SAUVÉ, PROVIDED BY SONIA BOLDUC
The binder was rescued from an old printing workshop.
“We had already placed a lot of our old furniture, found everywhere, in our heads,” recalls this inveterate of auctions, flea markets and garage sales. At home, a filing cabinet saved from an old printing workshop and two old benches from the venerable Granada Theatre in Sherbrooke can be elegantly placed side by side. “It’s heterogeneous, like life,” she illustrates.
Everywhere there are works by local artists such as sculptor Matthieu Binette, ceramicist Amélie Pomerleau and painter Deborah Davis. “And other friends we love very much.”
“It’s another way to keep the people we love close to us. They’re not there for decoration,” emphasizes Sonia Bolduc.
In Praise of Slowness
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PHOTO ANNICK SAUVÉ, PROVIDED BY SONIA BOLDUC
Work by Estrie artist Madeleine Lemire
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PHOTO ANNICK SAUVÉ, PROVIDED BY SONIA BOLDUC
Work by Sherbrooke artist Catherine Landry
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The sturdy house with its stone foundation sits atop a hill at the end of a narrow dirt road. “We see about a car and a half go by there every week,” estimates M.me Bolduc.
This isolation contributes to the richness of the stay, she continues.
The house is not always full. It is also a place of reflection and silence. We are never invaded by anything that we have not decided for ourselves. Except the wind.
Sonia Bolduc
Power outages are moments of joy for the couple, who cherish the absence of urgency. “You have to create slowness for yourself. The obligation to run comes from the needs you create for yourself. My needs are to be able to have two coffees with my girlfriend in the morning, go for a walk with my dogs and, ideally, have time to do a bit of pottery before thinking about going to work. And to be able to do it all again when I get back.”
Her stay represents this ideal of slowness, she adds.
“There are times during the day when you can’t leave this room. In the fall, when the sun sets and you’re by the wood stove, it’s an extraordinary moment. Or on a Friday night when a dozen friends come over to play the piano. It’s a room made to enjoy the time that stretches out,” she concludes.