Writ on Paper, Wrought in Stone (with Addendum)

An interior photo of Cologne Cathedral in Westphalia, Germany.

"This is what linked all people, she wanted to say, in spite of time and space; this joined them in a timelessness, a spacelessness, in a collective mind that transcended all boundaries. This is what endured forever and ever, as long as the painting was preserved, as long as the written word endured. Sappho's few words, Plato's, Homer's... The works of a great artist entered that other kind of reality, the words of a great poet lived there; this is what human history is all about, our efforts to transcend our limitations, our petty wars, our fears. We build our cathedrals, paint pictures, write our poetry, our music, all in the same effort to transcend ourselves. They fill the history books with trash about conquests, wars, treaties, but, these are transitory. The human spirit sails above them, yearning for that other reality... finding it in moments of great art..."

- Excerpt from Welcome Chaos, a science fiction novel by Kate Wilhelm first published in 1983. Inset right is an interior photo of the Cathédrale Saint-Pierre de Beauvais in Beauvais, France, found here. (Click images for larger views.)

"At about the same time Hugo began experimenting with a new approach to prose, based on telling the story of less than ideal characters—a poor bohemian girl, a deformed bell-ringer and a lecherous archdeacon—the three pillars of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Few fans of the novel, which has inspired several successful films, know that Hugo wrote it to save the famous Gothic cathedral of Notre Dame from demolition. During the Revolution Notre Dame had been used as a saltpetre plant. By the nineteenth century it had suffered so much neglect that builders wanted to reuse its stones for bridge construction. Gothic art was then regarded as ugly and offensive; so Hugo’s choice of the location was deliberate: it linked the grotesque characters with the ugly art. The first three chapters of the novel are a plea to preserve Gothic architecture—in Hugo’s words, a “gigantic book of stone,” which he, as a Romantic, found beautiful."

- Excerpt from How Did Victor Hugo Save the Famous Cathedral of Notre Dame From Demolition?  The photos - inset above and below - are of the famous Notre Dame (de Paris) gargoyles which were found here.

“He therefore turned to mankind only with regret. His cathedral was enough for him. It was peopled with marble figures of kings, saints and bishops who at least did not laugh in his face and looked at him with only tranquillity and benevolence. The other statues, those of monsters and demons, had no hatred for him – he resembled them too closely for that. It was rather the rest of mankind that they jeered at. The saints were his friends and blessed him; the monsters were his friends and kept watch over him. He would sometimes spend whole hours crouched before one of the statues in solitary conversation with it. If anyone came upon him then he would run away like a lover surprised during a serenade.”

- Excerpt from Victor Hugo's 1831 gothic masterpiece The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.

“Everything has been said about these great churches,” Rilke wrote. “Victor Hugo penned some memorable pages on Notre-Dame in Paris, and yet the action of these cathedrals continues to exert itself, uncannily alive, inviolate, mysterious, surpassing the power of words.… Notre-Dame grows each day, each time you see it again it seems even larger.” 

- Rainer Maria Rilke quote from a 2014 New Yorker article (7th in a series): Street of the Iron Po(e)t by Henri Cole.

"This time, Paris was just what I had expected: difficult. And I feel like a photographic plate that has been exposed too long, in that I remain forsaken to this powerful influence... Out of fright I went right off Sunday to Rouen. An entire cathedral is necessary to drown me out... Would you believe that the glance of a woman passing me in a quiet lane in Rouen so effected me that I could see almost nothing afterward, could not collect myself? Then gradually the beautiful cathedral was finally there, the legends of her densely filled windows, where earthly events shine through and one sees the blood of its colors."

- From a 1913 letter by Rainer Maria Rilke to Russian-born psychoanalyst - life-long friend and one-time lover - Lou Andreas-Salomé. Inset left is an interior shot of Rouen Cathedral found here. Inset right is one of series of paintings of Rouen by Claude Monet (and here). Inset left (below) is another.

"Ours, the scientists keep telling us, is a universe, which is disposable. You know it might be just this one anonymous glory of all things, this rich stone forest, this epic chant, this gaiety, this grand choiring shout of affirmation, which we choose when all our cities are dust, to stand intact, to mark where we have been, to testify to what we had it in us, to accomplish."

- Orson Welles, from his 1975 docudrama Vérités et mensonges ("Truths and lies") which focuses on the career of an art forger. The "stone forest" in the quote was a reference to the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Chartres.

***

This is another of the 3 posts I had been working on - apart from the previous one - and it was a post I personally needed to create at the time. That is to say, like Rilke, I found myself (emotionally and spiritually) needing "an entire cathedral" to contain my high anxiety. Generally, I might have relied on the sight of Sandia Crest - mountains and cathedrals, after all, have a great deal in common in a symbolic sense... they both represent the union of the cosmos and earth - but there's an underlying order in the structure of a cathedral, an authentic Sacred Geometry evidenced by features like the (south) rose window (inset left) from the Cathedral Notre-Dame de Paris. What the mountain might intimate, the cathedral spells out in no uncertain terms. In this case, the source: the "dame," lady or mother, the infinite symmetry of the circular form from which the cathedral unfolded and inevitably returned.

(Appropriately) I'd been reading Kate Wilhelm's apocalyptic "Welcome Chaos"... and came across the first paragraph (quoted above) which ultimately inspired this interlude post. The quote resonated with me because it occurred to me recently that what is generally considered the history of the world is, for the most part, the history of war and the acquisition of territory. For the rest of humanity's long saga one ultimately has to turn elsewhere...

An interior view of one of the spires of Cologne Cathedral.

Ultimately, it was Wilhelm's mention of cathedrals which truly moved me; wandering through the great Gothic cathedrals of Europe has been at the top of my "bucket list" for years. As this possibility grows increasingly unlikely, however, I decided to spend some time (virtually) wandering through them on the internet the other day. While I have visited one cathedral here in the States - the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York (inset right) - well, as remarkable as it is, is not authentically medieval Gothic. I imagine for many Europeans, who are immersed in historical architecture, the sight of a Gothic cathedral is probably not as big a deal as it is for most Americans... but, then, we rarely see a building built before the 1700s.

Which is why I was dismayed to discover that so many of the great cathedrals of Europe had either been damaged or destroyed during the course of those "petty wars." Apparently, as they were the tallest buildings, they became the easiest targets for air-strikes. And if the damage didn't occur during the time of the World Wars, then it occurred during the Reformation (in the UK) or the Revolution (in France) or, in other countries, due to some other "petty" war. In any case, it's difficult to understand the logic behind such wanton destruction. The great cathedrals are more than sacred places in a conventional religious sense... they were created as spiritual sanctuaries and cultural centers, transcending those limitations imposed by national boundaries, and the corresponding political (and/or ecumenical) regimes. They reflect humankind's loftiest aspirations. Human lives were invested in their elaborate construction. It's improbable that modern minds can even begin to imagine the amount of labor that went into the creation of these massive buildings... intricate "books" carved in stone... undertakings, the like of which, we will never see again.

Inset left (above) is another interior shot of Cologne Cathedral; one of the tallest cathedrals in the world which survived fourteen Allied aerial missile-strikes during the second World War. The reality is, however, that every cathedral mentioned in this post survived one disaster (or premeditated assault) or another, including the two shown below.

The first (upper left) is an example of the intricate stonework found on the exterior of Notre-Dame de Strasbourg, the home of legendary mason Sabina von Steinbach, and evidence of the profound, unrivaled passion the medieval masons brought to their work. (Inset right) is a rose window from Strasbourg.

The second (upper right) is a roof-top view (sourced here) of the deceptively delicate spires and buttresses of the Cathedral at Milan. I say "deceptive" because, make no mistake, the cathedrals were built to outlast us in the same way ancient temples outlasted the civilizations who once worshiped in them (and, for that matter, the gods they once worshiped). The operative question is: how have these buildings survived? Was it entirely due to the integrity of the builders or was some secret formula employed?

Interestingly - and importantly - the medieval masons did not depend upon the architectural methodology we might expect. While I don't know if this holds true after the Renaissance, the reality is (and I quote):

"The medieval geometry of Euclid had nothing to do with the geometry that is taught in schools today; no knowledge of mathematics or theoretical geometry of any kind was required for the construction process of medieval edifices. Using only a compass and a straight-edge, Gothic masons created myriad lace-like designs, making stone hang in the air and glass seem to chant.  In a similar manner, although they did not know the recently discovered principles of Fractal geometry, Gothic artists created a style that was based on the geometry of Nature, which contains myriad of fractal patterns."

The quote was taken from The Dual Language of Geometry in Gothic Architecture: The Symbolic Message of Euclidian Geometry versus the Visual Dialogue of Fractal Geometry, a .pdf from 2015 (in English) by Nelly Shafik Ramzy. The "geometry of Nature" is, of course, that which we refer to as "Sacred," a popular example often referred to (online) being the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Chartres (inset left: a detail).

Ramzy goes on to say: "The renowned booklets of Schmuttermayer and Roriczer, together with other related documents of the period, are telling much of the manner in which these great buildings were created geometrically. For example, the circle and the sphere were seen as forms that belonged to the eternal and all-powerful heavens, while the square belonged to the earthly world. In this context, geometry acquired two rules: one is that all constructions must begin with a circle; the other is that symmetry must be maintained...

One further principle controlling the geometry of sacred buildings at this time was that of continuity. When any building was extended or altered it was essential that the geometry of the new work conformed geometrically with the existing work. If it did not, it would not receive divine protection from disasters." 

Inset right (above) is a vintage WWI photo of the bombing of Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Reims... home of the smiling angels found in this post.) The evidence of other WWI cathedral damage can be found here.

Inset left is a vintage WWII shot of Cologne Cathedral appearing eerily spectral after its ordeal. And, yet, it stubbornly survived, whether due to the integrity of its architecture, masonic magical spells (or divine intervention).

But, sometimes it's the fate of one human who comes between a cathedral and its downfall. Victor Hugo tried to save Notre-Dame in Paris via a novel... and there are those who continue to rally to its cause to this day. But, there are lesser-known heroes as well. Case in point: the story of Welborn Barton Griffith, Jr., an American Army officer who prevented the Allied shelling of Chartres Cathedral during World War II.

Meanwhile, in recent years, we of the Western World watch helplessly as groups like ISIL wantonly destroy their own country's ancient, irreplaceable structures. However, before we (utterly) condemn them we might be reminded of our own folly and our own blind, implacable war-machines.

The skeletal ruins (found here) of Coventry Cathedral
(Cathedral Church of St Michael) in England, 1940.

"All at once, he was seen to re-appear at one of the extremities of the gallery of the kings of France; he traversed it, running like a madman, raising his conquest high in his arms and shouting: “Sanctuary!” The crowd broke forth into fresh applause. The gallery passed, he plunged once more into the interior of the church. A moment later, he re-appeared upon the upper platform, with the gypsy still in his arms, still running madly, still crying, “Sanctuary!” and the throng applauded. Finally, he made his appearance for the third time upon the summit of the tower where hung the great bell; from that point he seemed to be showing to the entire city the girl whom he had saved, and his voice of thunder, that voice which was so rarely heard, and which he never heard himself, repeated thrice with frenzy, even to the clouds: 'Sanctuary! Sanctuary! Sanctuary!'"

- Another excerpt from Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris (text in French) or The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (in English). The illustration of Quasimodo was sourced from this (French) Victor Hugo page.

The fabulous north transept rose window
at Notre-Dame de Paris found here.

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Whether you celebrate Easter or Ostara (or neither),
have a beautiful day!
(Above, Chartres Cathedral in bloom.)

(And, well, it just happened to have been April Fool's Day as well, so...)

Happy Easter Fool's Day?

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Addendum

A detail of the Church of Sainte-Thérèse-de-l'Enfant-Jésus.
Photo Credit: Pierre Bastien.

Ah well, we should all know that no blog-post is ever really finished around here... and, sure enough, just as I was congratulating myself on a job well done, I came across an article I could not overlook: Former Aisne Church Becomes a Kit Armstrong Concert Hall and Artistic Residence.

Basically, it's an article about the lovely Art Deco church of Sainte-Thérèse-de-l'Enfant-Jésus (St. Therese of the Child Jesus), a Roman Catholic church in Hirson, Aisne, France, which was recently bought by a young musician (for $150,000 Euros). Since then, the Wiki article informs us: "In August 2013 the Société Musicale Sainte-Thérèse was created. This is an association to renovate and maintain the church, host musicians and artists, organize private and public concerts and promote cultural events in the Church."

In regards to the church itself: "The 23-metre church was designed by Jacques Martin. On the left side was a bell tower 45 metres high, but this was demolished on 23 November 2008. It comprised a central door and two side doors opening onto the aisles. Above, a large lintel decorated with bas-reliefs is surmounted by a statue of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux sculpted by Jacques Martin. The internal styling is Art Deco with a decorated vaulted ceiling and 1500 plaster roses, symbolizing the roses spread by St Therese."

1500 plaster roses!!! Anyway, as I said, it sounds lovely. The intrigue lies in the fact that, due to the decrease in parishioners (and high maintenance costs) the Roman Catholic Church may be selling off (or demolishing) as many as 10,000 French churches in the next 12 years!

10,000??!!

In which case, my idea is this: I propose that all abandoned churches should become cultural centers... and, (most importantly) sanctuaries for homeless artists (like myself), who would (be required) to maintain the facility. And, what better place than in France, the cradle of Western culture?

Well, okay... I'm a dreamer... but, as Quasimodo once said: Sanctuary! Sanctuary! Sanctuary!