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Showing posts with label gargoyle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gargoyle. Show all posts

Monday, July 16, 2012

My Notre Dame View of Paris (Part Three)

As promised, today's post is a closer look at the Gallery of Chimeras, as designed by Eugene Viollet-le-Duc, architect in charge of the cathedral's restoration which began in 1845 and lasted twenty-five years.  Most of the original grotesques (also called chimeras) were too far gone to restore, and so they were removed, and Viollet-le-Duc, along with Jean-Baptiste-Antoine Lassus,  designed new ones. 
 Grotesques are not gargoyles, though most people associate the one with the other.  A gargoyle is the spout of a water gutter that has been carved to resemble a creature of some sort.  Grotesques are simple sculpted images on buildings, usually of a macabre nature.
 What I like about this odd fellow is his hood, which seems downright insulting to any monks or priests associated with the cathedral.  Perhaps they did not put two and two together, or had a sense of humor.  Either way, this evil-looking bird, with his large, searching eyes, is effectively unnerving.
   I have posted other pictures of Le Stryge before, so I thought I would pull back a little and let you see him with his constant companion, the hungry eagle.  How sad that they never get the chance to look off to their right at Sacre Couer.  If they could have turned their heads, they would have been able to see Montmartre's famous basilica being built only a few years after they were created.  What a sight that must have been.
 I love this one in the center.  He is worn down to the point that he must look even more menacing than when he was first created.  The moss adds to his queer look.  These creatures are in between the two towers, and cannot be seen unless you climb the spiral, stone steps below the north tower to reach the gallery.  I was delighted to find them.
   Here is a better view of them.  As you can see, they have a companion who resembles a wizard from a Tolkien novel, albeit with a hat that could almost double as a construction workers hardhat.  This figure took me by surprise, when I was still under the impression that these chimeras were much older.  He looked far too modern to me.  It does indeed look like a character out of an illustrated 19th century children's fantasy book.
   Across from the creatures in the above photograph sit these fellas.  A rather angry looking elephant who has lost his trunk, griffins, and some sort of dog, who has been so worn by the elements, that he now resembles a hell hound from a nightmare.  A faceless dog such as this would be terrifying, not matter that he could not bite you.  It would just be disturbing beyond measure.
  The last shot here gives you a courtyard view of Le Stryge and his buddies from the front of the cathedral.  They sit at the base of the north tower, somewhere around one-hundred-twenty to one-hundred-fifty feet off the ground.  Here you can see the difference between the grotesques on the railing and the gargoyle in the center, which has an open mouth and spews out the collected rain.

  And here you can see what it looks like from their point of view.  I think this scrawny little dude might have one of the best views, though Le Stryge is fortunate enough to have a clean line of sight at the Eiffel Tower, and so he was able to see it erected nearly forty years after he took his perch.  But from here, our malnourished friend can gaze down upon all the visitors, year round, always perfectly posed for all those cameras.
  I have already addressed the speculations regarding the appropriateness of such disturbing images upon a cathedral in an earlier post about gargoyles, so I won't revisit that discussion, except to say that if you remember the series of Chick Cartoon Tracts and their comic book series The Crusaders, you'll know that the Church has used this type of imagery to raise the awareness of evil in other applications, and so this might not be as odd as you think.  However, I doubt you will ever see such grotesques on the facade of the latest mega-church in America any time soon.

For a more detailed study of these odd, fascinating creatures, check out Michael Camille's book: The Gargoyles of Notre Dame.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

My Notre Dame View of Paris (Part One)

  Over the course of the next week, I'd like to offer a tour of Notre Dame Cathedral.  While Paris has an incredible number of cathedrals, churches, and chapels, Notre Dame is at the geographical center (in the open square there is a star pinpointing the center of Paris, though I did not find it), the historical center, and the cultural heart of Paris.  Situated on Ile de la Cite, the largest island in Paris on the Seine, it is a part of the original city proper.
  In this post, I'd like to share the extraordinary western view as seen from the upper level of the cathedral, the Gallery of Chimeras, which is at the midway point of the cathedral, and the base of the two towers.  The gallery, with its statues, was part of the restoration from the mid-1800s, as designed by Eugene Viollet-Le-Duc.
  To begin, you can see the left branch of the Seine flowing northwest between the Ile de la Cite and the Left Bank.  The bridge in the center of the photograph is the Pont Saint-Michel.  Just to the left of it, if you click on the photo and look closely, you'll see blue awnings at the corner of the buildings just under the trees.  This is the souvenir shop where Jennifer made friends with Roger, who runs the register.
  Of course you can see the Eiffel Tower, as well as a corner tower of the Prefecture of Police at center right.  The brooding winged figure in the photo is a chimera, not a gargoyle.  Thought they are usually called gargoyles, this name should only be applied to figures which are the termination point for water spouts.
  In this broader shot, you can see the tower of Saint-Severin (on the left, as if the bird is about to bite off the tip of it), the tops of the Saint-Sulpice towers (sticking out of the bent chimera's back), the golden-domed Les Invalides (site of Napolean's tomb), Saint-Germain-des-Pres tower immediately next to it, the Eiffel Tower, and off to the right, the skyline of La Defense, which is the modern business district.
  In the center of the photo you can see the Petit Pont.  This odd little bridge is only one hundred and sixty years old.  However, a bridge has been on the spot since Roman times, but 13 times the bridge had been destroyed by floods, due to the narrowing of the river at this point.  In one instance, back in the 1700's, a woman looking for her drowned child's body, accidentally set a hay barge on fire directly beneath the bridge, burning it down.
  In this shot of the Ile de la Cite, you can see the spire of Saint-Chappelle, which is surrounded by the Palace of Justice.  You can barely see the Conciergerie, famous site of Marie Antoinette's prison cell next to the dome of the Greffe du Tribunal de Paris, which is a grand way of saying the Paris Clerk of Commerce Courts.  This dome is off-set on top of the building so that the Boulevard de Sebastopol has a visual focus at its termination point.  This is very important in Paris street planning.  There should be prominent landmark views at the end of each major thoroughfare.  Oddly, the Boulevard was rerouted to one-way traffic going the opposite direction, so that now no driver can appreciate this view.
  Beyond the immediate buildings on the island, you can just make out the Louvre to the right of Saint-Chappelle.  At far right you can see Saint-Eustache Eglise.  L'Hotel Dieu, a hospital, is in the foreground.
  Finally, completing the view, you can see Le Basilica du Sacre Coeur atop Montmartre, behind that rascal Le Stryge.  On the right you can see the magnificent Saint-Jacques Tower, which is all that remains of the 16th century Church of Saint-Jacques-de-la-Boucherie (which is the unlikely name St. James of the Butchery) which was destroyed after the French Revolution.  I will be posting pictures of it later this year.  A masterpiece of art of which few people are aware.
  If we look at Le Stryge's eye, then shift your own eye an inch to the left, you'll see the arches of the Theatre de Chatelet, which faces Place du Chatelet at the Pont au Change.  It was here that Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days played for 2195 performances, the first of which was in 1876, and only closed in May of 1940 due to the Nazi Occupation.  Though not consecutively, it ran a total of 64 years.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Paris Quick View (Number One)

 I've always been curious about gargoyles.  I've been intrigued that so much effort was put into making such macabre images.  However, while I was visiting the little known 16th Century Saint-Jacques Tower just a block away from the Hotel de Ville in central Paris, I had a bit of a revelation.  It had just rained, which forced me to stick an umbrella over me and tuck my camera into my bag.  When the very brief rain finished, I approached the tower and used my zoom lens to appreciate and document the upper reaches of this 171 foot bell tower.  Only later, as I began to look at the lower levels, did I see this marvelous image.  The gargoyles were drooling.  Now, standing under them, looking up, I have to say this was an awesome sight.  Pure spectacle.  Like a great special effect in a movie.  From what I can find, not everyone in the early days appreciated these sculptures.  Here, from Wikipedia, is what might be seen as a more natural reaction from a 12th century church leader named St. Bernard of Clairvaux, famous for speaking out against gargoyles:

What are these fantastic monsters doing in the cloisters before the eyes of the brothers as they read? What is the meaning of these unclean monkeys, these strange savage lions, and monsters? To what purpose are here placed these creatures, half beast, half man, or these spotted tigers? I see several bodies with one head and several heads with one body. Here is a quadruped with a serpent's head, there a fish with a quadruped's head, then again an animal half horse, half goat... Surely if we do not blush for such absurdities, we should at least regret what we have spent on them.

   While I might agree with him theologically, I have to admit I love the crazy view of this strange creature drooling from above.