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This Gallo-Roman temple (fanum) was reconstructed thanks to excavations and research carried out on the Gallo-Roman sanctuary of Blicquy, near the main Roman road in Belgium (Boulogne-Köln)
Photo location: Archéosite d'Aubechies.
Le Temple de Janus est le seul vestige en élévation d'un quartier culturel situé à l'extérieur de la ville. C'est un fanum (temple d'origine gauloise). Le dieu honoré dans ce temple est inconnu. Le nom de Janus vient de la déformation du nom du quartier "La Genetoye", lieu où poussaient les genêts.
Au-dessus du hameau des Fumeyrasses, à l'entrée de gorges étroites, se trouve un ancien prieuré qui occupe l'emplacement d'un fanum gallo-romain.
Il est d'une architecture simple avec sa nef voûtée en plein-cintre et son abside semi-circulaire couverte d'un cul-de-four.
Dans les murs de la nef, plusieurs inscriptions votives ont été utilisées en réemploi dont celles en l'honneur de Jupiter et de Sylvain, le dieu au maillet.
Une charte indique qu'en 1160, Guillaume, évêque d'Apt confirma la possession de ce prieuré à l'abbaye Saint-André de Villeneuve-lès-Avignon.
Un culte agreste de l'eau devait s'y dérouler depuis des temps immémoriaux puisqu'on sait qu'au XVIIIe siècle les habitants du village demandèrent sa restauration pour continuer à s'y rendre en pèlerinage « pour faire pleuvoir ».
Fanum House Basingstoke. Headquarters of the Automobile Association Once the tallest building between here and America but has now been superseded in that claim by Skyline Plaza in Basingstoke, which is two metres taller. I took the picture at this angle as it appears as a Phoenix rising from its ashes and in effect so it has. The building was supposed to have been demolished in 2017 but the company now owned by Centrica has moved back in. The full story can be found in Wikipedia here. en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fanum_House
Autun, Saône-et-Loire - Temple de Janus
La forme particulière de ce temple, dit «fanum», est de tradition gauloise quoique sa technique de construction, datable du ier siècle de notre ère, soit romaine.
C'est sous le règne de l'empereur romain Auguste (-27/14) qu'a été fondée la cité d'Autun : son nom antique, Augustodunum, signifie la forteresse d'Auguste.
Auguste avait la volonté de créer une grande cité en Gaule qui montrerait la puissance romaine. Augustodunum fut donc doté de splendides monuments qui font aujourd'hui encore sa renommée.
Vestige d'un fanum, le monument connu sous le nom de Tour de Grisset témoigne d'un site gallo-romain important, seule partie subsistante d'un vaste complexe comportant des thermes.
Une voie antique, du Mans à Chartres, passait probablement à proximité du site.
Date de construction : IIè ou IIIè siècle
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_Boîtier argentique télémètrique : Leica M5.
_Objectif : Voigtländer Nokton Classic35mm f1.4 II.
_Film : Ilforddelta3200.
_Scan : GCMC RODFS70.
_Date : P24 Scan25 2024 11 03 14h28.
_Ouverture : 8.
_Temps d’exposition : 500.
_Profondeur : 5m.
_Métadonnée: Gimp-2.10.36.
_Retouche constraste Scan EXPO (+11) : Gimp-2.10.36.
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(Article Wikipédia) es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fanlo
Fanlo est une municipalité et une ville espagnole appartenant à la province de Huesca et à la région de Sobrarbe , dans la communauté autonome d' Aragon . Il est situé dans la vallée de Vió et dans sa commune se trouve le massif du Mont Perdu (3355 m). Avec une densité de 0,9 hab/km², c'est l'une des communes les plus inhabitées de la région.
Le toponyme de Fanlo dérive du latin FANUM « temple », avec le diminutif - ULUM , FANŬLUM , « petit temple ».
Géographie
Le terrain est composé d' ardoises et de schistes paléozoïques et de sols de terre brune humides. Le climat alpin prédomine . La végétation est principalement constituée de forêts de pins, de chênes, de hêtres et de sapins.
C'est la capitale de la vallée de Vió . La commune borde Bielsa et Puértolas à l'est, Boltaña au sud, Fiscal , Broto et Torla-Ordesa à l'ouest et la France au nord. Dans ses limites naissent les rivières Arazas , Aso et Vellos , toutes affluentes du Cinca . Une partie de son territoire communal est occupée par le parc national d'Ordesa
Autour
Parmi son patrimoine naturel abondant, se distingue la forêt Pardina del Señor , située sur la route qui relie Fanlo à Sarvisé . Elle est considérée comme la forêt la plus spectaculaire de toute l’Europe en automne. Il présente un mélange d'épicéa, de hêtre, d'érable, de tremble, de noisetier, de sorbier des bois, de frêne, de cerisier, de pin sylvestre, de bouleau, de buis ou de chêne à galle dans une combinaison parfaite qui fait ressembler les montagnes à un tableau pointilliste. Ce n'est qu'au Canada , aux États-Unis ou au Japon que vous pouvez visiter des forêts similaires.
The ruin of Monserrate is a construction contemporary to the first Palace of Monserrate, built on the orders of Gerard de Visme in 1790. Its original function would have been as a landscaping ornament while also referred to as the place for accommodating the horse handlers. This is a singular building, the only physical witness of the architectural design of the Palace of de Visme, displaying the same windows, turrets, pinnacles, stone masonry, plaster and constructed effects that appear in engravings of the aforementioned palace. The building was already in ruins at the time of arrival of Francis Cook in Monserrate. In 1869, the site was described by Thomas Cargill, in his poem about Monserrate "Fairy life in Fairy Land", as a "ruined fane", thus a church in ruins (fane comes from the Latin fanum that means temple or sanctuary), resulting in the idea that this was a chapel. There is no certainty as to the exact date of planting of the Australian rubber tree on this site. The first reference comes from 1929 but its origins may well substantially pre-date that year. The apparent fusion between the building and the tree depicts the supremacy of Nature over Man.
Le château de La Hunaudaye.
Sur la commune de Plédéliac en Bretagne à la frontière du Penthièvre, à deux pas de la rivière Arguénon, le château de La Hunaudaye a été bâti au XIIIe siècle sur une cuvette marécageuse. Situation peu commune pour un bâtiment habituellement destiné à être vu, admiré et craint, ce site lui offrait en fait une bonne défense naturelle. Il semble avoir été construit sur un précédent édifice gallo-romain, à proximité de la voie antique de Darioritum à Fanum Martis (Vannes à Corseul).
Durant la guerre de succession de Bretagne (1341-1364), au cœur du conflit entre les Montfort et les Penthièvre alliés à la famille de Blois, le seigneur de Tournemine prend parti pour Penthièvre, ce qui vaudra au château d'être détruit pas les Anglais, alliés aux Montfort.
Qu'à cela ne tienne, Pierre Tournemine, le cadet, reconstruira la Hunaudaye en plus "moderne" dès 1367.
Plus tard, la famille Tournemine sera appelée à de hautes fonctions dans une Bretagne désormais rattachée au royaume des Francs.
Taken for 'Saturday Self Challenge': "Main subject cut in half'
This is Fanum House, home of the AA, Automobile Association, and, until recently, the tallest building between London and New York (the nearby IBM building was refurbished and became Skyline Plaza, and a few feet were added to its height in order to steal the crown)
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Le temple de MARS au Haut Bécherel à Corseul ( Bretagne)
(Le temple dit « de Mars » est un vestige romain situé à Corseul, dans le département des Côtes-d'Armor, en France. Ce sanctuaire est étendu sur une superficie de plus d'un hectare avec la cella octogonale et une cour entourée d'une galerie sur trois côtés. L'emprise du fanum atteint 90 m sur 80.)
La Pyramide d'Authon-Ébéon est une tour en pierre gallo-romaine, ou pile, située à Authon-Ébéon en Charente-Maritime.
La tour se situe le long de la voie romaine reliant Saintes à Bordeaux. Il existe une pile similaire, la Tour de Pirelonge, située sur la commune de Saint-Romain-de-Benet mais celle-ci est en meilleur état.
On l’appelle aussi le fanal d’Ébéon. Le terme dérive du latin fanum, « temple », mais on a longtemps pensé qu’il s’agissait d’une sorte de repère pour les voyageurs empruntant la voie romaine proche, ou même d’un amer pour les navigateurs sur l’océan
Le fanal fait l’objet d’un classement au titre des monuments historiques par la liste de 1840
Les vestiges visibles du site archéologique de Brion sont ceux d'une villa-gallo romaine construite vers le milieu du Ier siècle. On peut y voir également les vestiges de différents bâtiments publics, d'un théâtre et d'un temple celtique (fanum).
At the base of this natural monolithic stack there are the remains of a Gallo-Roman fanum (small shrine) and Neolithic and Bronze Age ramparts. Iron Age finds have also been identified.
Vestige d'un fanum, le monument connu sous le nom de Tour de Grisset témoigne d'un site gallo-romain important, seule partie subsistante d'un vaste complexe comportant des thermes.
Une voie antique, du Mans à Chartres, passait probablement à proximité du site.
Date de construction : IIè ou IIIè siècle
Site archéologique de Brion sur la commune de Saint-Germain-d'Esteuil en Gironde.
Photo du 24 février 2021.
Taken for 'Saturday Self Challenge': "Smoke or Steam"
This is the AA's HQ, Fanum House on Basing View, I guess this is steam from a gas fuel heating system.
Fanum House was formerly the Belfast HQ for newspapers and media including the Irish Times and Sky. Under threat of demolition & redevelopment for many years.
The Mithraic Mysteries were a mystery religion practised in the Roman Empire from about the 1st to 4th centuries AD. The name of the Persian god Mithra (proto-Indo-Iranian Mitra), adapted into Greek as Mithras, was linked to a new and distinctive imagery. Writers of the Roman Empire period referred to this mystery religion by phrases which can be anglicized as Mysteries of Mithras or Mysteries of the Persians; modern historians refer to it as Mithraism,[1] or sometimes Roman Mithraism.The mysteries were popular in the Roman military.
Worshippers of Mithras had a complex system of seven grades of initiation, with ritual meals. Initiates called themselves syndexioi, those "united by the handshake".They met in underground temples (called mithraea), which survive in large numbers. The cult appears to have had its centre in Rome.
Numerous archaeological finds, including meeting places, monuments and artifacts, have contributed to modern knowledge about Mithraism throughout the Roman Empire.The iconic scenes of Mithras show him being born from a rock, slaughtering a bull, and sharing a banquet with the god Sol (the Sun). About 420 sites have yielded materials related to the cult. Among the items found are about 1000 inscriptions, 700 examples of the bull-killing scene (tauroctony), and about 400 other monuments.[9] It has been estimated that there would have been at least 680 mithraea in Rome.[10] No written narratives or theology from the religion survive, with limited information to be derived from the inscriptions, and only brief or passing references in Greek and Latin literature. Interpretation of the physical evidence remains problematic and contested.
The Romans regarded the mysteries as having Persian or Zoroastrian sources. Since the early 1970s the dominant scholarship has noted dissimilarities between Persian Mithra-worship and the Roman Mithraic mysteries. In this context, Mithraism has sometimes been viewed as a rival of early Christianity with similarities such as liberator-saviour, hierarchy of adepts (archbishops, bishops, priests), communal meal and a hard struggle of Good and Evil (bull-killing/crucifixion).The name Mithras (Latin, equivalent to Greek “Μίθρας” is a form of Mithra, the name of an Old Persian god– a relationship understood by Mithraic scholars since the days of Franz Cumont. An early example of the Greek form of the name is in a 4th century BC work by Xenophon, the Cyropaedia, which is a biography of the Persian king Cyrus the Great.
The exact form of a Latin or classical Greek word varies due to the grammatical process of declension. There is archeological evidence that in Latin worshippers wrote the nominative form of the god’s name as “Mithras”. However, in Porphyry’s Greek text De Abstinentia («Περὶ ἀποχῆς ἐμψύχων»), there is a reference to the now-lost histories of the Mithraic mysteries by Euboulus and Pallas, the wording of which suggests that these authors treated the name “Mithra” as an indeclinable foreign word.
Related deity-names in other languages include
Sanskrit Mitra (मित्रः), the name of a god praised in the Rig Veda.In Sanskrit, "mitra" means "friend" or "friendship"
the form mi-it-ra-, found in an inscribed peace treaty between the Hittites and the kingdom of Mitanni, from about 1400 BC.
Iranian "Mithra" and Sanskrit "Mitra" are believed to come from an Indo-Iranian word mitra meaning "contract, agreement, covenant".
Modern historians have different conceptions about whether these names refer to the same god or not. John R. Hinnells has written of Mitra / Mithra / Mithras as a single deity worshipped in several different religions. On the other hand, David Ulansey considers the bull-slaying Mithras to be a new god who began to be worshipped in the 1st century BC, and to whom an old name was applied.
Mary Boyce, a researcher of ancient Iranian religions, writes that even though Roman Empire Mithraism seems to have had less Iranian content than historians used to think, still "as the name Mithras alone shows, this content was of some importance.Much about the cult of Mithras is only known from reliefs and sculptures. There have been many attempts to interpret this material.
Mithras-worship in the Roman Empire was characterized by images of the god slaughtering a bull. Other images of Mithras are found in the Roman temples, for instance Mithras banqueting with Sol, and depictions of the birth of Mithras from a rock. But the image of bull-slaying (tauroctony) is always in the central niche.Textual sources for a reconstruction of the theology behind this iconography are very rare. (See section Interpretations of the bull-slaying scene below.)
The practice of depicting the god slaying a bull seems to be specific to Roman Mithraism. According to David Ulansey, this is "perhaps the most important example" of evident difference between Iranian and Roman traditions: "... there is no evidence that the Iranian god Mithra ever had anything to do with killing a bull."n every Mithraeum the centrepiece was a representation of Mithras killing a sacred bull, called the tauroctony.
The image may be a relief, or free-standing, and side details may be present or omitted. The centre-piece is Mithras clothed in Anatolian costume and wearing a Phrygian cap; who is kneeling on the exhausted bull, holding it by the nostrils[33] with his left hand, and stabbing it with his right. As he does so, he looks over his shoulder towards the figure of Sol. A dog and a snake reach up towards the blood. A scorpion seizes the bull's genitals. A raven is flying around or is sitting on the bull. Three ears of wheat are seen coming out from the bull's tail, sometimes from the wound. The bull was often white. The god is sitting on the bull in an unnatural way with his right leg constraining the bull's hoof and the left leg is bent and resting on the bull's back or flank.[34] The two torch-bearers are on either side, dressed like Mithras, Cautes with his torch pointing up and Cautopates with his torch pointing down. Sometimes Cautes and Cautopates carry shepherds' crooks instead of torches.
Tauroctony from the Kunsthistorisches Museum
The event takes place in a cavern, into which Mithras has carried the bull, after having hunted it, ridden it and overwhelmed its strength.[38] Sometimes the cavern is surrounded by a circle, on which the twelve signs of the zodiac appear. Outside the cavern, top left, is Sol the sun, with his flaming crown, often driving a quadriga. A ray of light often reaches down to touch Mithras. At the top right is Luna, with her crescent moon, who may be depicted driving a biga.[39]
In some depictions, the central tauroctony is framed by a series of subsidiary scenes to the left, top and right, illustrating events in the Mithras narrative; Mithras being born from the rock, the water miracle, the hunting and riding of the bull, meeting Sol who kneels to him, shaking hands with Sol and sharing a meal of bull-parts with him, and ascending to the heavens in a chariot.[39] In some instances, as is the case in the stucco icon at Santa Prisca mithraeum, the god is shown heroically nude. Some of these reliefs were constructed so that they could be turned on an axis. On the back side was another, more elaborate feasting scene. This indicates that the bull killing scene was used in the first part of the celebration, then the relief was turned, and the second scene was used in the second part of the celebration.Besides the main cult icon, a number of mithraea had several secondary tauroctonies, and some small portable versions, probably meant for private devotion, have also been found.[The second most important scene after the tauroctony in Mithraic art is the so-called banquet scene.The banquet scene features Mithras and the Sun god banqueting on the hide of the slaughtered bull. On the specific banquet scene on the Fiano Romano relief, one of the torchbearers points a caduceus towards the base of an altar, where flames appear to spring up. Robert Turcan has argued that since the caduceus is an attribute of Mercury, and in mythology Mercury is depicted as a psychopomp, the eliciting of flames in this scene is referring to the dispatch of human souls and expressing the Mithraic doctrine on this matter. Turcan also connects this event to the tauroctony: the blood of the slain bull has soaked the ground at the base of the altar, and from the blood the souls are elicited in flames by the caduceus.Mithras is depicted as being born from a rock. He is shown as emerging from a rock, already in his youth, with a dagger in one hand and a torch in the other. He is nude, standing with his legs together, and is wearing a Phrygian cap.
However, there are variations. Sometimes he is shown as coming out of the rock as a child, and in one instance he has a globe in one hand; sometimes a thunderbolt is seen. There are also depictions in which flames are shooting from the rock and also from Mithras' cap. One statue had its base perforated so that it could serve as a fountain, and the base of another has the mask of the water god. Sometimes Mithras also has other weapons such as bows and arrows, and there are also animals such as dogs, serpents, dolphins, eagles, other birds, lion, crocodiles, lobsters and snails around. On some reliefs, there is a bearded figure identified as Oceanus, the water god, and on some there are the gods of the four winds. In these reliefs, the four elements could be invoked together. Sometimes Victoria, Luna, Sol and Saturn also seem to play a role. Saturn in particular is often seen handing over the dagger to Mithras so that he can perform his mighty deeds.
In some depictions, Cautes and Cautopates are also present; sometimes they are depicted as shepherds.
On some occasions, an amphora is seen, and a few instances show variations like an egg birth or a tree birth. Some interpretations show that the birth of Mithras was celebrated by lighting torches or candles.[One of the most characteristic features of the Mysteries is the naked lion-headed figure often found in Mithraic temples, named by the modern scholars with descriptive terms such as leontocephaline (lion-headed) or leontocephalus (lion-head). He is entwined by a serpent (or two serpents, like a caduceus), with the snake's head often resting on the lion's head. The lion's mouth is often open, giving a horrifying impression. He is usually represented as having four wings, two keys (sometimes a single key), and a scepter in his hand. Sometimes the figure is standing on a globe inscribed with a diagonal cross. In the figure shown here, the four wings carry the symbols of the four seasons, and a thunderbolt is engraved on the breast. At the base of the statue are the hammer and tongs of Vulcan, the cock, and the wand of Mercury. A more scarcely represented variant of the figure with a human head is also found.
Although animal-headed figures are prevalent in contemporary Egyptian and Gnostic mythological representations, an exact parallel to the Mithraic leontocephaline figure is not found.
The name of the figure has been deciphered from dedicatory inscriptions to be Arimanius (though the archeological evidence is not very strong), which is nominally the equivalent of Ahriman, a demon figure in the Zoroastrian pantheon. Arimanius is known from inscriptions to have been a god in the Mithraic cult (CIMRM 222 from Ostia, 369 from Rome, 1773 and 1775 from Pannonia).
While some scholars identify the lion-man as Aion (or Zurvan, or Cronus) others assert that it is Ahriman.[51] There is also speculation that the figure is the Gnostic demiurge, (Ariel) Ialdabaoth. Although the exact identity of the lion-headed figure is debated by scholars, it is largely agreed that the god is associated with time and seasonal change.[53] An occultist, D. J.Cooper, speculates to the contrary that the lion-headed figure is not a god, but rather represents the spiritual state achieved in Mithraism's "adept" level, the Leo (lion) degree. Rituals and worship[edit]
According to M. J. Vermaseren, the Mithraic New Year and the birthday of Mithras was on December 25. However, Beck disagrees strongly.Clauss states: "the Mithraic Mysteries had no public ceremonies of its own. The festival of natalis Invicti [Birth of the Unconquerable (Sun)], held on 25 December, was a general festival of the Sun, and by no means specific to the Mysteries of Mithras." Mithraic initiates were required to swear an oath of secrecy and dedication, and some grade rituals involved the recital of a catechism, wherein the initiate was asked a series of questions pertaining to the initiation symbolism and had to reply with specific answers. An example of such a catechism, apparently pertaining to the Leo grade, was discovered in a fragmentary Egyptian papyrus (P.Berolinensis 21196),and reads:
... He will say: 'Where ... ?
... he is/(you are?) there (then/thereupon?) at a loss?' Say: ... Say: 'Night'. He will say: 'Where ... ?' ... Say: 'All things ...' (He will say): '... you are called ... ?' Say: 'Because of the summery ...' ... having become ... he/it has the fiery ... (He will say): '... did you receive/inherit?' Say: 'In a pit'. He will say: 'Where is your ...?... (Say): '...(in the...) Leonteion.' He will say: 'Will you gird?' The (heavenly?) ...(Say): '... death'. He will say: 'Why, having girded yourself, ...?' '... this (has?) four tassels. Very sharp and ... '... much'. He will say: ...? (Say: '... because of/through?) hot and cold'. He will say: ...? (Say): '... red ... linen'. He will say: 'Why?' Say: '... red border; the linen, however, ...' (He will say): '... has been wrapped?' Say: 'The savior's ...' He will say: 'Who is the father?' Say: 'The one who (begets?) everything ...' (He will say): '('How ?)... did you become a Leo?' Say: 'By the ... of the father'. ... Say: 'Drink and food'. He will say '...?'
'... in the seven-...
Almost no Mithraic scripture or first-hand account of its highly secret rituals survives;with the exception of the aforementioned oath and catechism, and the document known as the Mithras Liturgy, from 4th century Egypt, whose status as a Mithraist text has been questioned by scholars including Franz Cumont. The walls of Mithraea were commonly whitewashed, and where this survives it tends to carry extensive repositories of graffiti; and these, together with inscriptions on Mithraic monuments, form the main source for Mithraic texts.
Nevertheless, it is clear from the archeology of numerous Mithraea that most rituals were associated with feasting – as eating utensils and food residues are almost invariably found. These tend to include both animal bones and also very large quantities of fruit residues.The presence of large amounts of cherry-stones in particular would tend to confirm mid-summer (late June, early July) as a season especially associated with Mithraic festivities. The Virunum album, in the form of an inscribed bronze plaque, records a Mithraic festival of commemoration as taking place on 26 June 184. Beck argues that religious celebrations on this date are indicative of special significance being given to the Summer solstice; but this time of the year coincides with ancient recognition of the solar maximum at midsummer, whilst iconographically identical holidays such as Litha, St John's Eve, and Jāņi are observed also.
For their feasts, Mithraic initiates reclined on stone benches arranged along the longer sides of the Mithraeum – typically there might be room for 15 to 30 diners, but very rarely many more than 40 men. Counterpart dining rooms, or triclinia, were to be found above ground in the precincts of almost any temple or religious sanctuary in the Roman empire, and such rooms were commonly used for their regular feasts by Roman 'clubs', or collegia. Mithraic feasts probably performed a very similar function for Mithraists as the collegia did for those entitled to join them; indeed, since qualification for Roman collegia tended to be restricted to particular families, localities or traditional trades, Mithraism may have functioned in part as providing clubs for the unclubbed.However, the size of the Mithraeum is not necessarily an indication of the size of the congregation.
Each Mithraeum had several altars at the further end, underneath the representation of the tauroctony, and also commonly contained considerable numbers of subsidiary altars, both in the main Mithraeum chamber and in the ante-chamber or narthex.[68] These altars, which are of the standard Roman pattern, each carry a named dedicatory inscription from a particular initiate, who dedicated the altar to Mithras "in fulfillment of his vow", in gratitude for favours received. Burned residues of animal entrails are commonly found on the main altars indicating regular sacrificial use. However, Mithraea do not commonly appear to have been provided with facilities for ritual slaughter of sacrificial animals (a highly specialised function in Roman religion), and it may be presumed that a Mithraeum would have made arrangements for this service to be provided for them in co-operation with the professional victimarius of the civic cult. Prayers were addressed to the Sun three times a day, and Sunday was especially sacred.
It is doubtful whether Mithraism had a monolithic and internally consistent doctrine. It may have varied from location to location. However, the iconography is relatively coherent. It had no predominant sanctuary or cultic centre; and, although each Mithraeum had its own officers and functionaries, there was no central supervisory authority. In some Mithraea, such as that at Dura Europos, wall paintings depict prophets carrying scrolls,but no named Mithraic sages are known, nor does any reference give the title of any Mithraic scripture or teaching. It is known that intitates could transfer with their grades from one Mithraeum to another.
Mithraeum
See also: Mithraeum
A mithraeum found in the ruins of Ostia Antica, Italy
Temples of Mithras are sunk below ground, windowless, and very distinctive. In cities, the basement of an apartment block might be converted; elsewhere they might be excavated and vaulted over, or converted from a natural cave. Mithraic temples are common in the empire; although unevenly distributed, with considerable numbers found in Rome, Ostia, Numidia, Dalmatia, Britain and along the Rhine/Danube frontier; while being somewhat less common in Greece, Egypt, and Syria.According to Walter Burkert, the secret character of Mithriac rituals meant that Mithraism could only be practiced within a Mithraeum.Some new finds at Tienen show evidence of large-scale feasting and suggest that the mystery religion may not have been as secretive as was generally believed.
For the most part, Mithraea tend to be small, externally undistinguished, and cheaply constructed; the cult generally preferring to create a new centre rather than expand an existing one. The Mithraeum represented the cave to which Mithras carried and then killed the bull; and where stone vaulting could not be afforded, the effect would be imitated with lath and plaster. They are commonly located close to springs or streams; fresh water appears to have been required for some Mithraic rituals, and a basin is often incorporated into the structure. There is usually a narthex or ante-chamber at the entrance, and often other ancillary rooms for storage and the preparation of food. The extant mithraea present us with actual physical remains of the architectural structures of the sacred spaces of the Mithraic cult. Mithraeum is a modern coinage and mithraists referred to their sacred structures as speleum or antrum (cave), crypta (underground hallway or corridor), fanum (sacred or holy place), or even templum (a temple or a sacred space).
In their basic form, mithraea were entirely different from the temples and shrines of other cults. In the standard pattern of Roman religious precincts, the temple building functioned as a house for the god, who was intended to be able to view through the opened doors and columnar portico, sacrificial worship being offered on an altar set in an open courtyard; potentially accessible not only to initiates of the cult, but also to colitores or non-initiated worshippers.Mithraea were the antithesis of this.
Degrees of initiation
In the Suda under the entry "Mithras", it states that "no one was permitted to be initiated into them (the mysteries of Mithras), until he should show himself holy and steadfast by undergoing several graduated tests."Gregory Nazianzen refers to the "tests in the mysteries of Mithras".
There were seven grades of initiation into the mysteries of Mithras, which are listed by St. Jerome.Manfred Clauss states that the number of grades, seven, must be connected to the planets. A mosaic in the Ostia Mithraeum of Felicissimus depicts these grades, with symbolic emblems that are connected either to the grades or are just symbols of the planets. The grades also have an inscription beside them commending each grade into the protection of the different planetary gods. In ascending order of importance, the initiatory grades were:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mithraic_mysteries
In the Mithraic ceremonies, there were seven degrees of initiations: Corax (Raven), Nymphus (Bridegroom), Miles (Soldier), Leo (Lion), Perses (Persian),Heliodromus (Courier of the Sun), and Pater (Father). Those in the lowest ranks, certainly the Corax, were the servants of the community during the sacred meal of bread and water that formed part of the rite.
The area where the concentration of evidence for Mithraism is the most dense is the capital, Rome, and her port city, Ostia. There are eight extant mithraea in Rome of as many as seven hundred (Coarelli 1979) and eighteen in Ostia. In addition to the actual mithraea, there are approximately three hundred other mithraic monuments from Rome and about one hundred from Ostia. This body of evidence reveals that Mithraism in Rome and Ostia originally appealed to the same social strata as it did in the frontier regions. The evidence also indicates that at least some inhabitants knew about Mithraism as early as the late first century CE, but that the cult did not enjoy a wide membership in either location until the middle of the second century CE.
As the cult in Rome became more popular, it seems to have "trickled up" the social ladder, with the result that Mithraism could count several senators from prominent aristocratic families among its adherents by the fourth century CE. Some of these men were initiates in several cults imported from the eastern empire (including those of Magna Mater and Attis, Isis, Serapis, Jupiter Dolichenus, Hecate, and Liber Pater, among others), and most had held priesthoods in official Roman cults. The devotion of these men to Mithraism reflects a fourth-century "resurgence of paganism," when many of these imported cults and even official Roman state religion experienced a surge in popularity although, and perhaps because, their very existence was increasingly threatened by the rapid spread of Christianity after the conversion of the emperor Constantine in 313 CE.
global.britannica.com/topic/heliodromus
Mithraism had a wide following from the middle of the second century to the late fourth century CE, but the common belief that Mithraism was the prime competitor of Christianity, promulgated by Ernst Renan (Renan 1882 579), is blatantly false. Mithraism was at a serious disadvantage right from the start because it allowed only male initiates. What is more, Mithraism was, as mentioned above, only one of several cults imported from the eastern empire that enjoyed a large membership in Rome and elsewhere. The major competitor to Christianity was thus not Mithraism but the combined group of imported cults and official Roman cults subsumed under the rubric "paganism." Finally, part of Renan's claim rested on an equally common, but almost equally mistaken, belief that Mithraism was officially accepted because it had Roman emperors among its adherents (Nero, Commodus, Septimius Severus, Caracalla, and the Tetrarchs are most commonly cited). Close examination of the evidence for the participation of emperors reveals that some comes from literary sources of dubious quality and that the rest is rather circumstantial. The cult of Magna Mater, the first imported cult to arrive in Rome (204 BCE) was the only one ever officially recognized as a Roman cult. The others, including Mithraism, were never officially accepted, and some, particularly the Egyptian cult of Isis, were periodically outlawed and their adherents persecuted.
ecole.evansville.edu/articles/mithraism.html
Some words were enough for God to precipitate the most beautiful of his creatures at the bottom of the abyss. Lucifer, the carrier of Light, pulled(entailed) with him a third(third party) of the angels in its revolt. Hell was created for him. We know the continuation(suite) … The column of July Place de la Bastille, was set up between 1833 and 1840. In its summit, thrones the "Spirit of liberty" conceived(designed) by the sculptor Auguste Dumont. Curious tribute returned by Louis Philippe to the insurgents who knocked down(spilled) Charles X and the Absolute monarchy three years earlier. Lucifer picked up. No detail misses(is lacking) … Torch in the hand, the Angel has just broken his chains(channels) and dashes to new conquests. Under its impressive base is a crypt sheltering some 500 rests of Fighters of 1830, as well as Egyptian mummy brought back(reported) by Napoleon.Durant la commune de Paris en 1870, après avoir abattu la colonne Vendôme, les communards s’en prirent à celle de la Bastille… sans succès. Ni le dispositif d’explosifs souterrains, ni le tir d’une trentaine d’obus depuis les buttes Chaumont n’en virent pas à bout. La flamme du porteur de Lumière refusa de s’éteindre…
During the municipality of Paris in 1870, having brought(shot) down the column Vendôme, the Communards took themselves in that of the Bastille unsuccessfully. Neither the device(plan) of subterranean explosives, nor the shooting(firing) of around thirty shells since mounds Chaumont transfer(fire) it to end. The flame of the carrier of Light refused to go out …Lucifer was so far away...?
« Non Serviam »- « Je ne servirai pas ! »
Quelques mots suffirent à Dieu pour précipiter la plus belle de ses créatures au fond de l’abîme. Lucifer, le porteur de Lumière, entraîna avec lui un tiers des anges dans sa révolte. L’enfer fut créé pour lui. Nous connaissons la suite…La colonne de Juillet Place de la Bastille, fut érigée entre 1833 et 1840. À son sommet, trône le « Génie de La Liberté » conçu par le sculpteur Auguste Dumont. Curieux hommage rendu par Louis Philippe aux insurgés qui renversèrent Charles X et la Monarchie absolue trois ans plus tôt. Lucifer a repris du poil de la bête. Aucun détail ne manque… Torche à la main, l’Ange vient de briser ses chaînes et s’élance vers de nouvelles conquêtes. Sous son imposant piédestal se trouve une crypte abritant quelques 500 restes des combattants de 1830, ainsi qu’une momie égyptienne rapportée par Napoléon.Durant la commune de Paris en 1870, après avoir abattu la colonne Vendôme, les communards s’en prirent à celle de la Bastille… sans succès. Ni le dispositif d’explosifs souterrains, ni le tir d’une trentaine d’obus depuis les buttes Chaumont n’en virent pas à bout. La flamme du porteur de Lumière refusa de s’éteindre…
www.pariszigzag.fr/histoire-insolite-paris/qui-est-vraime...
Basing View is a 65-acre business park situated in the heart of Basingstoke, in the English county of Hampshire, is a short walk from the railway station and town centre.
Currently a programme of major redevelopment is transforming Basing View and opening up a wide choice of business space options for companies of all sizes. As the freeholder, the Basingstoke & Deane council is playing a key role in helping promote and stimulate new investment in the area and is committed to investing long term in Basing View.
Basing View is a first class destination for businesses, with a mix of new, planned and refurbished office space, a new business class hotel, a wide range of amenities and the convenience of a town centre location. Around 4,500 people currently work at the park and it is envisaged that the regeneration project has the potential to double the number over the next 15 years.
The business district is currently home to more than 180 national and international businesses as well as a growing SME community and a new state-of-the-art 5G Living Lab.
In the distance on the left is Fanum House which is the headquarters of the Automobile Association in Basingstoke. It is one of several current and former AA buildings named "Fanum House" around the country. The original headquarters in Leicester Square, London, was also called Fanum House, "Fanum" being the call sign of the AA.
Closer and to the right of Fanum House is Viewpoint, and closer and to the right of that is The Square.
The building in the foreground has since been demolished and is being replaced.
www.basingstoke.gov.uk/basingview
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fanum_House
www.basingstokegazette.co.uk/news/19399937.basing-view-of...
www.curchodandco.com/find-a-property/properties/16268-are...
(a légende veut que son isolement date du raz-de-marée qui aurait détruit la forêt de Scissy, forêt mythique située dans la baie du mont Saint-Michel, en 709 et que les plages qui l'entourent étaient alors recouvertes d'arbres et d'herbus. Pour les historiens et les scientifiques, la montée des eaux date, non pas de 709, mais de plus de 10 000 ans, à la fin de la dernière glaciation.
Des fouilles entreprises ont mis au jour des vestiges attestant d'une occupation gauloise de l'archipel dès le second siècle avant notre ère. Un petit village coriosolite fut érigé à la pointe Sud de l'archipel. Au nord, sur l'un des îlots des Haches, c'est une petite nécropole de l'âge de fer (auquel succédera un fanum gallo-romain) qui a été découverte)
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
This is the whole extent of the southern elevation. This photo faithfully shows exactly how the old church looks like, including the parts that are leaning, slanting or bulging. As you can see, none of it is very straight nowadays, owing to old age, but primarily, as it seems, to the instability of the terrain.
It nevertheless remains a gorgeous Romanesque church.
Technically, this was quite a difficult photograph to take, as River Mue flows just behind the place where I had to set up my tripod. Unable to step further back, the place where I was did not allow me (even with the 19mm, wide-angle tilt-shift lens) to see the entire length of the monument, nor the whole height of the bell tower. Therefore, I had to do a two-row panorama composite of 10 shots in total, and stitch them in PTGui, as Photoshop did not do a very good job on this complex combination.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
•• Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
One last photo of this charming masterpiece of the Romanesque, standing silently in its quiet and bucolic setting. The local village has acquired all the land, pastures and woods around the church, so that quality setting can be preserved.
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Orosèi - Sardinia
Orosèi è un comune italiano di 6.994 abitanti della provincia di Nuoro, in Sardegna. Si trova nell'antica subregione storica delle Baronie.
Orosei è adagiato nella valle del fiume Cedrino, ad una distanza di 2,5 km dal mare (Marina di Orosei) della costa orientale della Sardegna.
Il suo territorio comprende un'estensione costiera di oltre 20 km lungo i quali si alternano spiagge (Marina di Orosei, Su Barone, Osala, Cala Ginepro, Sas Linnas Siccas, Bidderosa, Sa Curcurica) e strapiombi a picco sul mare del Golfo di Orosei.
Ad Orosei appartengono anche le frazioni marittime di Sos Alinos e Cala Liberotto distanti circa 12 km dal centro.
Il territorio è ampio 90,43 km², il quindicesimo a livello provinciale e ottantasettesimo a livello regionale.
Non ci sono prove certe che la provenienza etimologica del vocabolo Orosei sia da attribuirsi agli Aesaronenses (Esaronensi), una delle principali tribù nuragiche, così come vengono tramandate dagli scritti romani, che popolavano la Sardegna e la Corsica.
Tolomeo tuttavia, in uno dei suoi scritti, nel menzionare una stazione romana la chiamò col nome di Fanum Orisi che poi, sotto il Giudicato di Gallura, divenne Urisè.
L'attuale centro urbano di origine romana, nato da un precedente insediamento nuragico, fu fondato intorno al II secolo in considerazione della sua posizione geografica e strategica.
Orosei ebbe grande sviluppo in epoca giudicale, nel XII secolo, divenendo la più importante sede della curia del Giudicato di Gallura.
Sono di questo periodo alcuni monumenti più rappresentativi del paese, come la torre di Sant'Antonio e la Chiesa parrocchiale di San Giacomo e San Gavino.
Successivamente, nel 1288, Orosei entrò a far parte dei possedimenti d'oltremare della repubblica di Pisa e poi, dal 1324, del regno di Sardegna aragonese.
L'abitato è stato più volte soggetto ad attacchi pirateschi. Una figura semileggendaria nella lotta contro le invasioni dal mare è Tomasu Mojolu, che nel 1806 guidò la resistenza contro un attacco turco
Tra gli anni '40 e gli anni '50,per opera della Fondazione Rockefeller Orosei subì un trattamento di bonifica delle aree paludose site a pochi km dal centro, diminuendo drasticamente la presenza della anophele recuperando così molti terreni da destinare all'agricoltura.
Nel 2008, con un finanziamento regionale in ambito del progetto Civis Baroniae, il centro del paese è stato riqualificato con pavimentazione in lastre di basalto e nuove illuminazioni, rendendo più congruo lo stile del centro storico.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
Being a product of the “First Romanesque Art”, the 11th century church, of which the bell tower is the only visible remnant, was probably more decorated than the early 12th century church that succeeded it. One century before, there was not at all this disdain for sculpture and ornamentation that seems to have sprung in Normandy around the time, or in the wake, of the Conquest.
For what it’s worth, the lovely arches, slim columns and little capitals we see here are a pleasure to behold.
Fano ( Fanum fortunae) è una città delle Marche in provincia di Pesaro-Urbino famosa per le sue spiagge e per i suoi monumenti.Nella Piazza XX settembre si evidenzia il Palazzo della Ragione con il suo campanile e la Fontana della Fortuna. Altri monumenti di rilievo l'Arco di Augusto, il palazzo Malatesta, la statua di Cesare Ottaviano Augusto , ecc. ( vedi altre foto sotto)
[ it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fano ]
Fano (Fanum Fortunae) is a city in the Marche region in the province of Pesaro-Urbino, famous for its beaches and its monuments. In the XX September square you highlight the Palazzo della Ragione, with its bell tower and the Fountain of Fortune. Other important monuments are the Arch of Augustus, the Malatesta palace, the statue of Caesar Augustus, etc..(See more photos below)
[ en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fano ]
portfotolio.net/marco_ottaviani
www.flickriver.com/photos/marco_ottaviani/popular-interesting/
www.fluidr.com/photos/tags/marco_ottaviani
All of my photographs are Copyright ©Marco Ottaviani, All Rights Reserved. If you wish to use any of them, please contact me.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
This photograph of what is now the northern side wall shows the lovely decorated barrel arches that once separated the main nave from the aisles. When the spaces were walled in during the early 1700s, further to the demolishing of the aisles, the sculpted capitals were preserved, a care that was not expected from the people back then and is very welcome today.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
More sculpted capitals in the nave. As you can see, essentially floral motifs. What strikes me is that there is obvious talent and skill in the execution, but they look somehow unfinished, a bit rough or crude, as if a master had set a fine example to begin with, but students had failed to follow in his footsteps...
This of course must be connected to the fact that this is a Normandy church, and we know that around 1100, the emphasis in Normandy was not on sculpture and decoration... Even if this church has little to do with façades harmoniques and the major abbey churches in Caen, even if its walls are very decorated and rather reminiscent of Saintonge and Poitou churches, still the disdain of Normans for sculpted decoration at that point in time may explain what we see here.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
The massive piles and supporting arches that hold the weight of the bell tower.Those are left of the original Romanesque church from around Year 1000.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
The whole length of the nave, seen from the decidedly off-center square apse.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
•• Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
Sculpted capitals.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
The lovely bucolic setting of the Old Church of Thaon is unique and leaves visitors a long-lasting impression of peace and serenity.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
•• Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
Another one of the beautiful sculpted capitals that crowned the columns supporting the open arches that used to separate the main nave from the aisles.
The aisles have ben razed and the arches walled in, but leaving just enough open space around the capitals allows some light to flow in and “wrap around” the capitals in a very photogenic manner. It was indeed very thoughtful of the builders of the early 18th century, when this was done.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
•• Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
Perspective of the nave leading through the “false transept” and into the choir and apse.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
The ambiance in the nave. This is the kind of photograph I tend to take towards the end of the session, when everything on the shot list is already “in the box”. Then, I sit down, take some time to relax, meditate, “feel” the place with eyes closed. It may take as long as a half hour, I suppose, if I am really feeling well in a particular church. Then, when I pick up the camera again, I “see” differently and can take this kind of shot.
For someone like me, who has set himself the task to visit and document photographically as many as possible of those wonderful Romanesque churches and monasteries, a trip to Normandy is both cause for despair and for enchanted amazement. Despair, because the Norman architect, at the time of the Romanesque which coincided with the conquest of Britain by Duke William in 1066 and the tremendous influx of power and riches that ensued, that architect is above all focused on efficiency in the projection of power and majesty. For that architect, the absolute must, the beginning and the end of church building, is the wall. Sculpture doesn’t matter. When it exists at all, it is often relegated to simple modillions under the cornice that supports the roof. The bare wall, perfectly aligned and appareled, reigns as the undisputed king of Norman Romanesque. He who likes to smile and wonder at the ingenuity and inventiveness of Mediæval sculptors, is most of the time sorely disappointed by the utter lack of adornment of those great and tall Norman churches, next to which the barest Cistercian sanctuaries look positively alive and overflowing under the comparatively unbridled abundance of rinceaux, human figures and assorted creatures.
No sculpture to speak of, then, is the norm in Normandy. But on the other hand, the masterfulness of the architects and masons turns the job of putting one stone on top of another into a veritable art: it is here, in Normandy, that was first experimented the very innovation that would bring about the end of the Romanesque: the voûte d’ogives, the rib vaulting from which the whole world of Gothic derives. It is in Normandy that it was first imagined and implemented, even as the 11th century hadn’t yet come to a close. We will see where, and how.
My photographic tour of Lower Normandy had to begin, of course, by the Abbaye aux Hommes and the Abbaye aux Dames in Caen. Now that we have covered those, I would like to show you a few other Romanesque churches, much less well-known, yet fully worthy of our interest.
The first documentary source I consulted when I was preparing this trip was, as usual, the Normandie romane book published by Zodiaque —both volumes, as Romanesque Normandy is so rich that two books were needed to properly cover it. Unfortunately, and owing to some of those unforeseen circumstances that so often intrude upon our lives, I do not have those books with me at the moment. Therefore, I am not able to use the valuable material they hold to compose my captions; still, I will do my best in their absence... with my apologies. I hope the books will be sent back to me by whoever I made the mistake to leave them with, so that I won’t have to buy new copies.
•• Contrary to abbey and priory churches, which were often built in quiet and peaceful (not to say lonely) locales, away from the hustle and bustle of villages and towns (even if such cores of human activity often ended up growing from scratch around them!), parochial churches were usually erected in a village or very close by.
Dedicated to Saint Peter and listed as a Historic Landmark on the very first list drawn up in 1840 by Minister Prosper Mérimée (which says a lot about its architectural and artistic value, even by 19th century standards), the church of Thaon was built in a lonely vale because the parish, at the time, did not include a village per se, but was rather a collection of scattered hamlets: the church was built more or less in the middle. Tradition has been upheld up to present day: the church is still alone, with only one mill built nearby to benefit from the driving force of the current of River Mue —although, if truth be told, I have to admit that, with the concept of practicality emerging in the 19th century, a new church was consecrated in 1840 smack in the center of what had in the meantime become the most important of those hamlets of old: Thaon. Saint Peter was henceforth known as “the Old Church”.
Archæological digs carried out between 1998 and 2011 have shown that the locale was used during the Antiquity as a fanum, probably in connection with a nearby ford that allowed for crossing the river. A small necropolis developed during the 300s and 400s, then a first paleo-Christian edifice was built during the 600s, replaced by a new one in the next century. A first Romanesque church was erected around 1050–80, of which only the bell tower remains today. It is the oldest part of the second Romanesque church, the one we can still admire today, which was built in 1130–50 as an extension of the older church in all directions: the nave was extended by two rows to the West, a wider and much deeper choir was built with a flat apse and aisles were added. It is surrounded by more than 400 tombs from the 7th to the 18th century, which have been excavated and studied by archæologists.
During the Romanesque Age, the land was owned by the powerful barons of Creully, who possessed large tracts of land in Lower Normandy; this probably accounts for the architectural quality of the old church, which was placed under the direct patronage of the chapter of canons of the Bayeux Cathedral. This monument has come to us practically intact, except for the aforementioned aisles that were razed around 1720, probably because the terrain had become marshier and threatened the stability of the entire building. Around the same time, the floor level was raised to help fight dampness, of which the inside still exhibits many traces.
In the foreground you see one of the four massive, early 11th century piles (the NW one) supporting the bell tower, and further back the length of the early 12th century nave.