Saint-Christophe du Puley, a ruined priory of Benedictine nuns
I can’t help it, I love ruins —they sadden me of course, on the one hand, because destruction is never pleasant to behold, but on the other there is also survival, albeit partial, and ruins are so full of atmosphere and so evocative that I can very much understand (and, to some extent, share) the attraction that 19th century “Romantics” felt for them. It is this very attraction that gave rise to the conviction that historic ruins should be protected and preserved, and that conviction, at the beginning only shared between the members of an intellectual élite, trickled down into the general public and turned into our modern concepts of heritage, protection and restoration of “old stones”... hopefully before they do turn into ruins!
The ruined priory church in the Burgundy village of Le Puley, which we will visit over a couple of days, exemplifies both this interest of mine, and the more and more widespread conviction that historic monuments and buildings must be cared for and, if at all possible, saved, or at least preserved from further decay, as I will explain below.
It is said here and there that the church was built between 1100 and 1150, but personally, I would rather date it between 1050 and 1100. For a Cluny subsidiary (which this priory of Benedictine nuns was from the beginning, except for the very few first years during which the sisters were canonesses), I find the apparel quite rough, and this indicates old age. I also see the beautiful bandes lombardes on the façade, and the archaic shape of the apse and apsidioles I will show tomorrow: all of this tells me that the church was built before 1100. If it had been built after, it would look more “accomplished”, so to speak. Cluny had the technical and monetary means to do better, and they did in all the subsidiaries I have visited to date.
What I would also like to stress is that the church was restored and saved from ruin entirely by volunteers between 1969 and 1984. Its bell tower had fallen during a thunderstorm in 1877. Even now, two-month restoration periods are conducted on the site every Summer under the ægis of the Rempart non-profit organization, the works being carried out mostly by architecture and archæology students.
Three-quarters view of the nave from the southern aisle, looking to the Northeast. This photo allows you to get a better idea of the proportions of the church and to appreciate architectural and decorative details: one of the squinches that supported the cupola under the bell tower is still intact, and another one is partly preserved; bandes lombardes ran at least along the false transept, maybe more. This is a very unusual decorative choice, as such small, blind arcatures are more often seen on the outside of churches (remember that this one also features them on its façade). You can also see the beginning of the arcs doubleaux (“transverse arches”) that supported the barrel-vaulted ceiling. They rested on barely raised pilasters (which can be better seen in the northern aisle) instead of engaged columns, which is a sober, almost Cistercian choice, rather than Cluniac. :o)
This church is decidedly a disturbing mix of rough, very careful but unskilled and quite poor countryside work, and technically perfect architectural concepts... In one of the next photos uploaded today, you will see an enormous and strong stone pile buttressing (pointlessly?) the low-hanging apse... and in the nave, you see those perfect pilasters, jutting out just slightly and not one centimeter more than strictly needed as per an experienced architect’s calculations...
Saint-Christophe du Puley, a ruined priory of Benedictine nuns
I can’t help it, I love ruins —they sadden me of course, on the one hand, because destruction is never pleasant to behold, but on the other there is also survival, albeit partial, and ruins are so full of atmosphere and so evocative that I can very much understand (and, to some extent, share) the attraction that 19th century “Romantics” felt for them. It is this very attraction that gave rise to the conviction that historic ruins should be protected and preserved, and that conviction, at the beginning only shared between the members of an intellectual élite, trickled down into the general public and turned into our modern concepts of heritage, protection and restoration of “old stones”... hopefully before they do turn into ruins!
The ruined priory church in the Burgundy village of Le Puley, which we will visit over a couple of days, exemplifies both this interest of mine, and the more and more widespread conviction that historic monuments and buildings must be cared for and, if at all possible, saved, or at least preserved from further decay, as I will explain below.
It is said here and there that the church was built between 1100 and 1150, but personally, I would rather date it between 1050 and 1100. For a Cluny subsidiary (which this priory of Benedictine nuns was from the beginning, except for the very few first years during which the sisters were canonesses), I find the apparel quite rough, and this indicates old age. I also see the beautiful bandes lombardes on the façade, and the archaic shape of the apse and apsidioles I will show tomorrow: all of this tells me that the church was built before 1100. If it had been built after, it would look more “accomplished”, so to speak. Cluny had the technical and monetary means to do better, and they did in all the subsidiaries I have visited to date.
What I would also like to stress is that the church was restored and saved from ruin entirely by volunteers between 1969 and 1984. Its bell tower had fallen during a thunderstorm in 1877. Even now, two-month restoration periods are conducted on the site every Summer under the ægis of the Rempart non-profit organization, the works being carried out mostly by architecture and archæology students.
Three-quarters view of the nave from the southern aisle, looking to the Northeast. This photo allows you to get a better idea of the proportions of the church and to appreciate architectural and decorative details: one of the squinches that supported the cupola under the bell tower is still intact, and another one is partly preserved; bandes lombardes ran at least along the false transept, maybe more. This is a very unusual decorative choice, as such small, blind arcatures are more often seen on the outside of churches (remember that this one also features them on its façade). You can also see the beginning of the arcs doubleaux (“transverse arches”) that supported the barrel-vaulted ceiling. They rested on barely raised pilasters (which can be better seen in the northern aisle) instead of engaged columns, which is a sober, almost Cistercian choice, rather than Cluniac. :o)
This church is decidedly a disturbing mix of rough, very careful but unskilled and quite poor countryside work, and technically perfect architectural concepts... In one of the next photos uploaded today, you will see an enormous and strong stone pile buttressing (pointlessly?) the low-hanging apse... and in the nave, you see those perfect pilasters, jutting out just slightly and not one centimeter more than strictly needed as per an experienced architect’s calculations...