‘Haute couture’ cabinetmaker is inspired by refined English styles

Cabinetmaker Clément Goudet has pignon sur rue – an expression referring to a gable facing the street, used to describe someone with an established professional reputation.

Monts et Merveilles, the workshop he founded in 2012, has built a portfolio of prestigious projects in and around Briançon (Hautes-Alpes) and the Serre Chevalier ski resort, as well as Paris and London. Its interior design and bespoke furniture work ranges from chalets to lofts and apartments for high-end clients.

Mr Goudet went through France’s traditional craftsmanship training with the Compagnons du Devoir in the early 2000s including its Tour de France, gaining experience in Paris and Mâcon, as well as in the United States and Australia.

He acquired wide knowledge of cabinetmaking before setting up his firm. 

“You can be a great compagnon but a terrible business owner, and vice versa. Being a business owner is a completely different challenge,” he says.

The company is located, appropriately enough for a firm specialising in woodworking, on rue des Mélèzes – Larch Street – in Saint-Martin-de-Queyrières (Hautes-Alpes).

I was told by a recruiter for the Compagnons du Devoir that it is rare for them to refuse applicants. They have an interview, but they are usually accepted unless they show disrespect. Was it like that when  you joined the École des Compagnons in L’Argentière-la-Bessée (Hautes-Alpes)?

Clément Goudet: No, it was not like that. I joined in 2000. It is probably simpler now. Back then, you had to pass entrance tests. You had to complete a day of tests and discovery activities, as well as submit a portfolio. I had already secured an apprenticeship with an employer with whome I would be training.

After that, things are different when you are on the Tour de France. The Compagnons find employers for the young people who arrive. For the first year, however, when you are completing your apprenticeship, you usually have to find your own workplace.

Around two-thirds of the 11,000 people trained by the Compagnons obtain standard trade qualifications, and many do not then go on to undertake the Tour de France. This traditional multi-year programme involves moving between towns and employers in France and abroad, usually alongside communal living and evening classes, and can lead to becoming a Compagnon. What is the appeal for those who only complete the initial apprenticeship?

CG: When you are young and want to discover compagnonnage, it is impossible to know whether it will suit you. 

It is normal for some people to try it without fully understanding what it involves and then to  realise that they do not want to commit to 10 years of intensive training. 

It is completely normal for many to decide not to embark on the Tour de France after completing their initial apprenticeship. If you do commit to the Tour de France, you are signing up for seven years. 

In reality, only around 10% of those who begin training with the Compagnons eventually attain the title of Compagnon.

Life is full of unexpected events. You can never be certain that you will see it through to the end.

Did you join for the craftsmanship or the Tour de France?

CG: I think it was mainly because of the excellence of the craftsmanship. I joined without being convinced by the communal life or the Tour de France, but I was convinced by the prospect of becoming highly skilled and professional.

It was only later that I discovered this way of living together, which I eventually found appealing. There is a particular energy in the Compagnons’ houses.

Some accommodate 100 young people, and everyone arrives on time for meals.

Everyone wears a collar when eating. Everyone attends classes until 22:00. There is a real discipline, which I found interesting and in keeping with my values.

What was your Compagnon name? 

CG: Clément le Dauphiné. Cabinetmaking is one of the trades in which no virtue is attached to the name. We use our first name followed by our department or region.

‘Traditionally, Compagnons embark on a Tour de France. For Clément Goudet, it became a world tour,’ one article said. Is that how it happened?

CG: Absolutely. Back then, going abroad was much less common than it is now. Today, it is a central part of the training, but in my time not many of us did it. I went abroad twice.

The first time, at the age of 20, I worked on villas in Beverly Hills.

I worked in a woodworking shop, primarily for very wealthy clients who wanted French-style furniture and reproductions of period pieces from the Renaissance and the Louis XV and Louis XVI eras. The villas were incredible. They had French-style wood panelling and furniture. The kitchens featured moulded and carved floral motifs and decorative mouldings. Having furniture made by French artisans was a status symbol.

I learned how to make period furniture, which is rarely done in France any more. It was a large production space with very basic machinery, where I worked alongside sculptors, cabinetmakers and finishers who aged the furniture. I arrived as a young trainee with the Compagnons and, by chance, ended up helping to manage production. It was fascinating.

Was it a matter of wealthy people’s taste or part of a wider trend?

CG: It was a trend. At the time, Americans loved French style. I think that is still true today. I am not sure whether you would call it ‘rich people’s taste’, but that was what those clients wanted. Americans like things to be a little… demonstrative, perhaps.

Then Australia?

CG: I went to Mâcon (Saône-et-Loire), first as an apprentice and then during the Tour de France, when I became an aspirant. After three or four years, you complete your chef-d’œuvre to officially become a Compagnon. I made a desk for a château in Mâcon.

I then went to Paris to work for an architecture firm because I had always wanted to combine practical work with intellectual creativity. Only then did I go to Australia, where I worked in the design office of a very modern company. I worked on concept development, technical studies and cutting-edge contemporary design projects. Drawing was a major part of my work.

Why did you choose to settle near Briançon?

CG: I am very attached to the area. Part of the challenge was to show that you could be based in a remote location and still secure prestigious projects in Paris or abroad. It was important to me to prove that you could combine quality of life with high-end design work without needing a workshop in the Paris suburbs or an industrial estate in a major city.

Did you deliberately choose to set up on rue des Mélèzes?

CG: It was a complete coincidence. To be honest, when we built the workshop, the street did not yet have a name. It was called rue des Mélèzes because there were several woodworkers in the area and our neighbours are carpenters. Briançon is close to the Serre Chevalier ski resort, which has a high-end clientele that quickly placed its trust in me. Word of mouth did the rest. We soon gained recognition and access to projects. Thanks to the location and quality of life, I was able to attract many people I had worked with or met during my Tour de France.

Vogue Australia described your work as haute couture. It is interesting that the journalist turned to fashion to describe it.

CG: I think the journalist wanted to draw a parallel with haute couture, which is recognised internationally and immediately understood around the world. I think it was a way of saying that our work is refined, niche and highly specialised within cabinetmaking.

You work with British and American clients, whose tastes can be very different from French clients. Could you elaborate?

CG: I am very sensitive to English architecture. They have incredibly refined fixtures and fittings and distinctive details that we do not have in France. I admire their craftsmanship. I think of refinement largely in terms of precision. 

We draw on many English elements in our work, particularly the fittings, finishes and lighting.

Our team recently renovated a chalet for English clients who brought their own carpet fitter to install ultra-thick carpet.

We had to select very English fittings and lighting. It is fascinating to see this blend of English interiors with an Alpine chalet. The combination works beautifully. It creates a very interesting mix – something that can appear disorganised or eccentric but is carefully calculated and deliberate.

We have worked on houses in Notting Hill and Highgate, among other places. These are clients for whom we have also built chalets in Serre Chevalier. I have just returned from a week in Dublin.

Is there such a thing as an ‘Alpine style’? You seem to be keen to avoid being labelled as mountain carpenters associated with motifs such as carved marmots and little wooden hearts.

CG: Being a Compagnon means that we have travelled to many countries and regions. Many people in the company are Compagnons. We are not simply mountain carpenters because we are based in the mountains. When we work on an apartment in Paris, we do not use old wood decorated with marmots. We work with local materials, but follow a Parisian rather than an Alpine design. It would make no sense to create a chalet interior in a Parisian loft. We adapt to the setting of each project.

You have continued to recruit Compagnons and pass on your expertise. Are you coming full circle?

CG: We have between 15 and 20 Compagnons. The company has existed for 14 years, so that represents about one or two people each year. I am surrounded by settled Compagnons – people who have completed their journey, stopped travelling and established themselves in one place. There are about six or seven settled Compagnons in the company.

We also take on around three young Compagnons in training each year. They are completing their Tour de France, so they stay with us only temporarily, usually for one year. We train and guide them, and the group changes every year.

Your career appears to be a series of carefully judged decisions leading to entrepreneurship. Does that mindset align with the ethos of the Compagnons?

CG: I have never left things to chance. I sought out the companies I wanted to join. I approached them so that I could learn, improve and go where I wanted. I never allowed anyone else to decide for me. That changes everything, as I could have ended up working for a company that laid flooring all year. I would not have learnt nearly as much as I did in the US making period furniture. I chose that path. No one chose it for me.