In March 2020, when museums, theaters, and cultural centers were scrambling to move everything over into the digital realm, Gaëtan Bruel had a different idea. A pretty French one. The cultural counselor of the French Embassy asked the office in Paris for permission to give his staff three months off. They used that time to read, reflect, and hit reset. From this period of tumult and change, Villa Albertine was born.

I met Bruel at the Payne Whitney House, the elegant historic building on Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue that serves as Villa Albertine’s headquarters. As the head of the French Cultural Services, a division of the French Embassy with a presence in nine American cities, Bruel had flown in from New Orleans in time for Proust Weekend, his last stop in a series of work trips: Miami, for the opening of Art Basel; Washington, D.C., for President Macron’s state visit (“I’ve seen President Biden more times this week than I’ve seen him in a year,” Bruel says); followed by a more relaxed stop in the French Quarter.

An illustration by Chen Jiang Hong featured at Villa Albertine’s Proust Weekend, in New Orleans this past spring.

We were nearing the end of “Proust in One Hour,” the final event of the day at Villa Albertine. In the second-floor ballroom of the Italian Renaissance mansion, between a marble pillar and a curving, ivory staircase lined with carpet, we stood and drank our La Piscine cocktails (“the drink of French publishers”) out of round wineglasses.

Not too long ago, I had been here for a conversation on the future of museums with the heads of the Louvre and the Centre Pompidou, who discussed what French museums can learn from their American counterparts, whose representatives were present in the audience. I ran into Richard Armstrong, the then director of the Guggenheim, in the champagne line.

At 32, Bruel is the youngest cultural adviser to be appointed to the role of French cultural counselor, a position he has held since September 2019. In the past, he was a speechwriter for the French minister of defense, which he did aboard submarines and fighter jets, and oversaw the restoration of two French monuments, the Arc de Triomphe and the Pantheon, in another governmental role.

Gaëtan Bruel had flown in from New Orleans in time for Proust Weekend, his last stop in a series of work trips: Miami, for the opening of Art Basel; Washington, D.C., for President Macron’s state visit.

Today, he is also the director of Villa Albertine, or what the French Cultural Services has morphed into (not to be confused with the charming French-language bookstore of the same name, opened in 2014 by Bruel’s predecessor, Antonin Baudry). At the core of Villa Albertine is its artists’ residency program, the French cultural arm’s most ambitious project to date, one which flips the script on the model of the residency itself.

“The French created the format of the artists’ residency,” Bruel says, referring to the traditional practice of bringing artists to one city for cross-cultural exchange, and to France’s founding of the first artists’ residency—Villa Medici, in Rome. “When you do that in a certain city, you send a signal that the city is important.” Bruel feels that kind of format hasn’t adapted well in recent times, especially in a country as large and diverse as the U.S.

The entrance to Villa Albertine, in New York.

Plans to open a villa-style residency in New York, perhaps with the Payne Whitney mansion as its headquarters, were scrapped. Instead, they decided to let the artists choose where they would like to spend their residency. Working with its network of embassy offices, Villa Albertine would house them, cover their living expenses, pair them with universities and institutions, and offer other kinds of project support. (In true European spirit, they would also provide health insurance.)

This year, more than 70 residents will post up in 30 different locations around the country. Claire Houmard, an archaeologist, will spend her residency in the village of Quinhagak, Alaska, studying how the eroding Arctic shoreline has led to the uncovering of ancient artifacts, and what this means for the village’s indigenous Yupik population. Tatiana Vilela dos Santos, a digital artist and game designer, will be doing a “roving residency” across the American Southwest on the connection between video games and psychedelic art. Author Leïla Slimani is among the literature residents, a group that includes many prizewinning untranslated authors who are the buzziest names in French publishing right now.

At the core of Villa Albertine is its artists’ residency program, the French cultural arm’s most ambitious project to date, one which flips the script on the model of the residency itself.

Bruel refers to some of the villa’s residents as “creators,” a term which encompasses not just the usual artists, writers, and filmmakers, but museum directors, researchers, architects, video-game designers, and, of course, archaeologists. In total, the villa has dabbled in 15 different disciplines. Being French or French-born is not a requirement to apply.

“The French may be unbearable, but the thing we do well is culture,” Bruel quips. “The core conviction of Villa Albertine is not just that artists should be supported in a world of crisis. At the end of the day, it is us who need their support. We need them to better understand the world we live in. We take seriously what artists and creators have to say about the major changes we are facing.”

Tatiana Vilela dos Santos, a digital artist, is doing a “roving residency” across the American Southwest as part of the Villa Albertine artists’ residency program.

Today, the idea of a European superpower spreading its culture abroad might give us pause. In some ways, Villa Albertine’s expanded efforts to make culture a two-way street shield it from potential criticisms in a world where such criticisms can be quickly weaponized. More importantly, it keeps French culture relevant, even as the country finds itself more divided, and its people more discontented, than ever.

One year into its launch, Villa Albertine’s residency program already has 80 staff members, and it’s continuing to put out other residencies, prizes, public programs—and even a print magazine and podcast—at a brisk pace. Bruel’s hope is that this “Villa Albertine” type of cultural incubation will produce future Palme d’Or winners or even Nobel laureates. It’s a lofty goal, but if anyone can do it, it would be the French.

Born and raised in Malaysia, Lim May Zhee is a writer living in New York. She is currently at work on her first novel

Illustration: Chen Jiang Hong/Courtesy of Villa Albertine. Photos: Beowulf Sheehan (Bruel); Beowulf Sheehan/Courtesy of Villa Albertine (entrance); courtesy of Villa Albertine (dos Santos)