“These so-called “miserable” people of the Middle Ages sang all day long, whether working in the fields or spinning at their looms; they sang merry songs as happy as the start of Spring, songs so beautiful that they are a consolation for the soul. These people, like us, underwent privations, sickness and death, just like all people from every age since the fall of man. However, the people of the Middle Ages wanted to live according to the idea of the good which was in them – and proper to each of them as individuals. The king, Saint Louis, is the perfect model – the good was the peace of the soul whatever happened, and over and above death. This is why he sang, and why we don’t sing. Or at any rate why what we do sing will perish without leaving a trace and without a posterity.”

Henri Charlier (1883-1975)
Painter, sculptor, author of essays on art and music

“(…) Bernard Bouts left us a savory description of Charlier suffering from his “headaches which made him grimace.” When he truly couldn’t take it any more, he would leave us to figure things out on our own in the workshop and he would go lie down. Whenever this happened, we avoided disturbing him, but sometimes it was necessary to ask for his directives concerning the work being done. I found him in bed, buried under an enormous red comforter, a pointed cotton cap on his head, reading. What was he reading? Always and invariably, St. Thomas’s Summa. That’s surely a good remedy for a migraine! I said to him, “My dear boss, with all due respect, you irresistibly make me think of Don Quixote.” He roared with laughter. He felt better immediately. And taking care of himself thus, with the Summa Theologica as medicine, his time lost in the workshop would be regained by an increase in theological wisdom.”

Dom Henri Lapèze-Charlier (20th century)
Benedictine monk