MG writes:
I came late to the Sagrada Familia, in my forties, although I had been an admirer for many years; ever since I lost the ignorance of youth and could appreciate it for what it was. It is saying something that, of Gaudi's fairly small number of completed buildings, none of which have the sheer audacity and scale of the Sagrada Familia, seven are on the list of UNESCO's 'World Heritage' sites. I think that Gaudi would have been mightily pleased, and not a little proud of his Catalan heritage, that UNESCO should rank so large a percentage of his output with structures such as 'the Alhambra', 'Machu Pichu', 'Stonehenge', 'Angkor', 'the Statue of Liberty', 'the Sydney Opera House' and 'the Kremlin' to name but a few of the 960 or so structures and sites that make up the list. (Correct as of today's date)
However, it is perhaps easy to list buildings which have the vast resources of the Catholic Church or Governments behind them; projects which command huge and skilled labour forces and an almost limitless supply of materials. The projects which intentionally go out of their way to make a statement, whether of faith or national pride. However, what of the projects which give meaning to the experience and faith of small communities, villages and hamlets, and which are, in their way, no less grand and magnificent than 'Chartres' or 'the Great Wall of China'?*
The Counter-Reformation, the Catholic Church's response to Lutherism following the Council of Trent**, gave birth, or was midwife, to the age of the Baroque. That enormous seventeenth century flowering of art, in all of its myriad forms; the music of J S Bach and Telemann, Vivaldi and Albinoni; the architecture of Borromini and Wren; the paintings of Rubens, Rembrandt and Caravaggio; the sculpture of Bernini***; the opera of Monteverdi and Lully; the poetry of Donne and the drama of Gryphius. Spreading out from Italy, it reached as far afield as the Netherlands and the UK to the north, and Spain to the west, even taking in the Catalans, rabidly independent as they were and jealous of their own unique identity. However, it was perhaps in Bavaria, a fiercely Catholic state, even today, that the battle lines were so vehemently drawn between the largely Lutheran North German states and the largely Catholic Southern German states.****
This is most typified in the architecture, especially church architecture. Munich, the capital, may have had St Michael's and the Theatiner (and latterly, the Asamkirche*****), products of a wealthy and properous city, but each small village embraced the style and opulence of the capital as though their very souls depended on it! The most widely known of these is 'Die Wies', although strictly speaking it is more Roccoco than Baroque, however the 'hidden gem' is Kloster Rottenbuch. Originally conceived as the church, adjoining the Abbey (Kloster), it was designed and built during the eleventh and twelfth centuries in the Romanesque style. However, during the early eighteenth century, it was heavily modified by the painter Matthäus Günther and stuccoist Josef Schmuzer in Baroque style. This creates an interior of almost two quite distinct styles.
As you approach the building from the road into the village, you are immediately struck by how ordinary it appears. Plain, white-washed walls; the only ornamentation is the ubiquitous 'onion dome' of the spire common to all churches in the region. However, when you open the door and enter inside, below the organ pipes and gallery, you are immediately struck by the sense that you are, indeed, in Heaven on Earth. It is quite simply astounding; it takes your breath away. That a tiny insignificant village, albeit with an Abbey, since demolished, should have so wonderful a testament to man's faith. One can only imagine how the peasants felt the first time they entered the redesigned place of worship; rural Bavaria was very agricultural (and still is).
I must confess that, for all the great buildings that I have seen, and I have seen many of the great works of European architecture, Rottenbuch stands head and shoulders above all because of the effect that it had on a seventeen year old, atheist 'oik'. Whilst I am truly grateful to Max and Toni for giving me the opportunity to see such splendour, I do not think that they are entirely responsible for engendering in me the abiding love for J S Bach, I used to try to catch organ practice in every church I subsequently visited; the esteem in which I hold Caravaggio and Bernini; the endless joy to be derived from John Donne and the sublime pleasure of Telemann's work for Blockflöte, as played by Michaela Petri.
Some pictures are below. They do not begin to reflect the true beauty of the place but I hope that they will give a flavour; who knows you might want to visit.
An exterior view; dull isn't it?
....just wait until you get inside
View facing the organ gallery; the altar is behind you.
View facing the altar with the pulpit on the left
I think that is a detail of the pulpit.
I apologise for the poor quality of the images but I don't know where my postcards have disappeared to; every Catholic church in Bavaria has postcards and, boy, was I an avid collector!
While we are on the subject of UNESCO's Heritage sites, what about Neuschwanstein, guv? I know that it was built by a Bavarian king (Ludwig II) who, sad to say, did not appear to be dealing from a full deck and might have been two bricks short of a load, and the building was designed by a scenic painter in the Munich Opera (Christian Jank), but that should be no barrier to one of the most eccentric pieces of architecture in European history being declared an international treasure; hell, it even inspired Disney! The view from the bridge is simply staggering. Can you still go up there, I wonder? Fair made my scrotum tighten, to be sure; it's a long way down.
I can feel a photograph coming on.............It does not look so bad here but when I tell you that you have to climb a very steep hill to get to the castle's main gate and the bridge is roughly at roof top level with a deep gorge down below then..........
I can feel a photograph coming on.............It does not look so bad here but when I tell you that you have to climb a very steep hill to get to the castle's main gate and the bridge is roughly at roof top level with a deep gorge down below then..........
Said scrotum tightening bridge with the castle in the background
* Incidentally, contrary to popular urban legend, you cannot see it from the moon!
** 'Es muss etwas geschehen! Es wird etwas geschehen!' (Something must be done! Something will be done!) My own little pun on a well known short story by Heinrich Boll about a post war job applicant to a soap factory.
*** Anyone who denies the sheer sexual exuberance and orgasmic delight inherent in the 'Ecstasy of St Theresa' quite frankly has never seen it! Or does not know what a female orgasm looks like!
**** Germany did not become a nation state until after Bismarck reorganised it all after 1870 and victory over the French (no surprise there, then) in the Franco-Prussian War.
***** Worth a post to itself really. Built by the Asam brothers from the gutted remains of two adjacent, terraced buildings and nestling in an insignificant sidestreet off the main square, it was originally planned as a private chapel. However, when the inhabitants of Munich got wind of it, the brothers were forced to open it to the public. It remains one of the most idiosyncratic churches in all of Europe.
Oh, alright then. A couple of pictures:
Exterior view; a bit on the narrow side, don't you think?
Interior shot from the main door.
PS
Since we are going for a 'picture round', here is your starter for ten, no conferring^; how about this!
^ A reference, which only the Brits will understand, to 'University Challenge', a popular, sort of, TV quiz show amongst undergraduates who are keen to pit their wits against other swot-like under and post grads whilst simultaneously swigging beer and eating pizza.
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