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Conté crayon; 29.5 × 22.1 cm.

 

Modigliani was born into a Jewish family of merchants. As a child he suffered from pleurisy and typhus, which prevented him from receiving a conventional education. In 1898 he began to study painting. After a brief stay in Florence in 1902, he continued his artistic studies in Venice, remaining there until the winter of 1906, when he left for Paris. His early admiration for Italian Renaissance painting—especially that of Siena—was to last throughout his life. In Paris Modigliani became interested in the Post-Impressionist paintings of Paul Cézanne. His initial important contacts were with the poets André Salmon and Max Jacob, with the artist Pablo Picasso, and—in 1907—with Paul Alexandre, a friend of many avant-garde artists and the first to become interested in Modigliani and to buy his works. In 1908 the artist exhibited five or six paintings at the Salon des Indépendants. In 1909 Modigliani met the Romanian sculptor Constantin Brancusi, on whose advice he seriously studied African sculpture. To prepare himself for creating his own sculpture, he intensified his graphic experiments. In his drawings Modigliani tried to give the function of limiting or enclosing volumes to his contours. In 1912 he exhibited at the Salon d’Automne eight stone heads whose elongated and simplified forms reflect the influence of African sculpture. Modigliani returned entirely to painting about 1915, but his experience as a sculptor had fundamental consequences for his painting style. The characteristics of Modigliani’s sculptured heads—long necks and noses, simplified features, and long oval faces—became typical of his paintings. He reduced and almost eliminated chiaroscuro (the use of gradations of light and shadow to achieve the illusion of three-dimensionality), and he achieved a sense of solidity with strong contours and the richness of juxtaposed colors.

 

The outbreak of World War I in 1914 increased the difficulties of Modigliani’s life. Alexandre and some of his other friends were at the front, his paintings did not sell, and his already delicate health was deteriorating because of his poverty, feverish work ethic, and abuse of alcohol and drugs. He was in the midst of a troubled affair with the South African poet Beatrice Hastings, with whom he lived for two years, from 1914 to 1916. He was assisted, however, by the art dealer Paul Guillaume and especially by the Polish poet Leopold Zborowski, who bought or helped him to sell a few paintings and drawings.

 

Modigliani was not a professional portraitist; for him the portrait was only an occasion to isolate a figure as a kind of sculptural relief through firm and expressive contour drawing. He painted his friends, usually personalities of the Parisian artistic and literary world (such as the artists Juan Gris and Jacques Lipchitz, the writer and artist Jean Cocteau, and the poet Max Jacob), but he also portrayed unknown people, including models, servants, and girls from the neighborhood. In 1917 he began painting a series of about 30 large female nudes that, with their warm, glowing colors and sensuous, rounded forms, are among his best works. In December of that year Berthe Weill organized a solo show for him in her gallery, but the police judged the nudes indecent and had them removed.

 

In 1917 Modigliani began a love affair with the young painter Jeanne Hébuterne, with whom he went to live on the Côte d’Azur. Their daughter, Jeanne, was born in November 1918. His painting became increasingly refined in line and delicate in colour. A more tranquil life and the climate of the Mediterranean, however, did not restore the artist’s undermined health. After returning to Paris in May 1919, he became ill in January 1920; 10 days later he died of tubercular meningitis. Little-known outside avant-garde Parisian circles, Modigliani had seldom participated in official exhibitions. Fame came after his death, with a solo exhibition at the Bernheim-Jeune Gallery in 1922 and later with a biography by André Salmon. For decades critical evaluations of Modigliani’s work were overshadowed by the dramatic story of his tragic life, but he is now acknowledged as one of the most significant and original artists of his time.

Chartres Cathedral, also known as the Cathedral of Our Lady of Chartres (French: Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Chartres), is a Catholic church in Chartres, France, about 80 km (50 miles) southwest of Paris, and is the seat of the Bishop of Chartres. Mostly constructed between 1194 and 1220, it stands on the site of at least five cathedrals that have occupied the site since the Diocese of Chartres was formed as an episcopal see in the 4th century. It is one of the best-known and most influential examples of High Gothic and Classic Gothic architecture, It stands on Romanesque basements, while its north spire is more recent (1507–1513) and is built in the more ornate Flamboyant style.

 

Long renowned as "one of the most beautiful and historically significant cathedrals in all of Europe," it was designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1979, which called it "the high point of French Gothic art" and a "masterpiece".

 

The cathedral is well-preserved and well-restored: the majority of the original stained glass windows survive intact, while the architecture has seen only minor changes since the early 13th century. The building's exterior is dominated by heavy flying buttresses which allowed the architects to increase the window size significantly, while the west end is dominated by two contrasting spires – a 105-metre (349 ft) plain pyramid completed around 1160 and a 113-metre (377 ft) early 16th-century Flamboyant spire on top of an older tower. Equally notable are the three great façades, each adorned with hundreds of sculpted figures illustrating key theological themes and narratives.

 

Since at least the 12th century the cathedral has been an important destination for travellers. It attracts large numbers of Christian pilgrims, many of whom come to venerate its famous relic, the Sancta Camisa, said to be the tunic worn by the Virgin Mary at Christ's birth, as well as large numbers of secular tourists who come to admire the cathedral's architecture and art. A venerated Black Madonna enshrined within was crowned by Pope Pius IX on 31 May 1855.

 

History

At least five cathedrals have stood on this site, each replacing an earlier building damaged by war or fire. The first church dated from no later than the 4th century and was located at the base of a Gallo-Roman wall; this was put to the torch in 743 on the orders of the Duke of Aquitaine. The second church on the site was set on fire by Danish pirates in 858. This was then reconstructed and enlarged by Bishop Gislebert, but was itself destroyed by fire in 1020. A vestige of this church, now known as Saint Lubin Chapel, remains, underneath the apse of the present cathedral. It took its name from Lubinus, the mid-6th-century Bishop of Chartres. It is lower than the rest of the crypt and may have been the shrine of a local saint, prior to the church's rededication to the Virgin Mary.

 

In 962 the church was damaged by another fire and was reconstructed yet again. A more serious fire broke out on 7 September 1020, after which Bishop Fulbert (bishop from 1006 to 1028) decided to build a new cathedral. He appealed to the royal houses of Europe, and received generous donations for the rebuilding, including a gift from Cnut the Great, King of Norway, Denmark and much of England. The new cathedral was constructed atop and around the remains of the 9th-century church. It consisted of an ambulatory around the earlier chapel, surrounded by three large chapels with Romanesque barrel vault and groin vault ceilings, which still exist. On top of this structure he built the upper church, 108 meters long and 34 meters wide. The rebuilding proceeded in phases over the next century, culminating in 1145 in a display of public enthusiasm dubbed the "Cult of the Carts" – one of several such incidents recorded during the period. It was claimed that during this religious outburst, a crowd of more than a thousand penitents dragged carts filled with building supplies and provisions including stones, wood, grain, etc. to the site.

 

In 1134, another fire in the town damaged the façade and the bell tower of the cathedral. Construction had already begun on the north tower in the mid-1120s, which was capped with a wooden spire around 1142. The site for the south tower was occupied by the Hotel Dieu that was damaged in the fire. Excavations for that tower were begun straight away. As it rose the sculpture for the Royal Portal (most of which had been carved beforehand) was integrated with the walls of the south tower. The square of the tower was changed to an octagon for the spire just after the Second Crusade. It was finished about 1165 and reached a height of 105 metres or 345 feet, one of the highest in Europe. There was a narthex between the towers and a chapel devoted to Saint Michael. Traces of the vaults and the shafts which supported them are still visible in the western two bays. The stained glass in the three lancet windows over the portals dates from some time before 1145. The Royal Portal on the west façade, between the towers, the primary entrance to the cathedral, was probably finished a year or so after 1140.

 

Fire and reconstruction (1194–1260)

On the night of 10 June 1194, another major fire devastated the cathedral. Only the crypt, the towers, and the new façade survived. The cathedral was already known throughout Europe as a pilgrimage destination, due to the reputed relics of the Virgin Mary that it contained. A legate of the Pope happened to be in Chartres at the time of the fire, and spread the word. Funds were collected from royal and noble patrons across Europe, as well as small donations from ordinary people. Reconstruction began almost immediately. Some portions of the building had survived, including the two towers and the Royal Portal on the west end, and these were incorporated into the new cathedral.

 

The nave, aisles, and lower levels of the transepts of the new cathedral were probably completed first, then the choir and chapels of the apse; then the upper parts of the transept. By 1220 the roof was in place. The major portions of the new cathedral, with its stained glass and sculpture, were largely finished within just twenty-five years, extraordinarily rapid for the time. The cathedral was formally re-consecrated in October 1260, in the presence of King Louis IX of France, whose coat of arms can be seen painted on a boss at the entrance to the apse, although this was added in the 14th century.

 

Later modifications (13th–18th centuries) and the coronation of Relatively few changes were made after this time. An additional seven spires were proposed in the original plans, but these were never built. In 1326, a new two-storey chapel, dedicated to Saint Piatus of Tournai, displaying his relics, was added to the apse. The upper floor of this chapel was accessed by a staircase opening onto the ambulatory. (The chapel is normally closed to visitors, although it occasionally houses temporary exhibitions.) Another chapel was opened in 1417 by Louis, Count of Vendôme, who had been captured by the English at the Battle of Agincourt and fought alongside Joan of Arc at the siege of Orléans. It is located in the fifth bay of the south aisle and is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Its highly ornate Flamboyant Gothic style contrasts with the earlier chapels.

 

In 1506, lightning destroyed the north spire, which was rebuilt in the 'Flamboyant' style from 1507 to 1513 by architect Jean Texier. When he finished this, he began constructing a new jubé or Rood screen that separated the ceremonial choir space from the nave, where the worshippers sat.

 

On 27 February 1594, King Henry IV of France was crowned in Chartres Cathedral, rather than the traditional Reims Cathedral, since both Paris and Reims were occupied at the time by the Catholic League. The ceremony took place in the choir of the church, after which the King and the Bishop mounted the rood screen to be seen by the crowd in the nave. After the ceremony and a mass, they moved to the residence of the bishop next to the cathedral for a banquet.

 

In 1753, further modifications were made to the interior to adapt it to new theological practices. The stone pillars were covered with stucco, and the tapestries which hung behind the stalls were replaced by marble reliefs. The rood screen that separated the liturgical choir from the nave was torn down and the present stalls were built. At the same time, some of the stained glass in the clerestory was removed and replaced with grisaille windows, greatly increasing the light on the high altar in the center of the church.[citation needed]

 

French Revolution and 19th century

Early in the French Revolution a mob attacked and began to destroy the sculpture on the north porch, but was stopped by a larger crowd of townspeople. The local Revolutionary Committee decided to destroy the cathedral via explosives and asked a local architect to find the best place to set the explosions. He saved the building by pointing out that the vast amount of rubble from the demolished building would so clog the streets it would take years to clear away. The cathedral, like Notre Dame de Paris and other major cathedrals, became the property of the French State and worship was halted until the time of Napoleon, but it was not further damaged.

 

In 1836, due to the negligence of workmen, a fire began which destroyed the lead-covered wooden roof and the two belfries, but the building structure and the stained glass were untouched. The old roof was replaced by a copper-covered roof on an iron frame. At the time, the framework over the crossing had the largest span of any iron-framed construction in Europe.

 

World War II

The Second World War, in France, was a battle between the Allies and Axis powers of Germany and Italy. In July 1944, the British and Canadians found themselves restrained just south of Caen. The Americans and their five divisions planned an alternative route to the Germans. While some Americans headed west and south, others found themselves in a sweep east of Caen that led them behind the frontline of the German forces. Hitler ordered the German commissioner, Kluge, to head west to cut off the Americans. This ultimately led the Allies to Chartres in mid-August 1944.

 

On August 16, 1944, the cathedral was saved from destruction thanks to the American colonel Welborn Barton Griffith Jr. (1901–1944), who questioned the order he was given to target the cathedral. The Americans believed that the steeples and towers were being used as an observation post for German artillery.

 

Griffith, accompanied by a volunteer soldier, instead decided to go and verify whether or not the Germans were using the cathedral. Griffith could see that the cathedral was empty, so he had the cathedral bells ring as a signal for the Americans not to shoot. Upon hearing the bells, the American command rescinded the order to fire. Colonel Griffith died in combat action that same day, in the town of Lèves, near Chartres. He was posthumously decorated with the Croix de Guerre avec Palme (War Cross 1939–1945), the Légion d'Honneur (Legion of Honour) and the Ordre National du Mérite (National Order of Merit) of the French government and the Distinguished Service Cross of the American government

 

2009 restoration

In 2009, the Monuments Historiques division of the French Ministry of Culture began an $18.5-million program of works at the cathedral, cleaning the inside and outside, protecting the stained glass with a coating, and cleaning and painting the inside masonry creamy-white with trompe-l'œil marbling and gilded detailing, as it may have looked in the 13th century. This has been a subject of controversy (see below).

 

Liturgy

The cathedral is the seat of the Bishop of Chartres of the Diocese of Chartres. The diocese is part of the ecclesiastical province of Tours.

 

Every evening since the events of 11 September 2001, Vespers are sung by the Chemin Neuf Community.

 

Timeline

743 – First mention of a cathedral in Chartres in a text

c. 876 – Charles the Bald gives the cathedral an important sacred relic, the veil of the Virgin, making it an important pilgrimage destination.

1020 – Fire damages cathedral. Bishop Fulbert begins reconstruction.

1030 – New cathedral dedicated by Bishop Thierry, successor to Fulbert

1134 – Construction of the Royal Portal

1170 – Completion of south bell tower

1194 – Fire destroys much of city and a large part of the cathedral, but spares the crypt and the new façade. Fund-raising and rebuilding begins immediately.

1221 – New vaults are completed. The chapter takes possession of the new choir.

1210–1250 – Major installation of stained glass windows in choir and nave installed

1260 – Consecration of the new cathedral in presence of Louis IX (Saint Louis). Roof built over chevet, transept and nave

1270–1280 – Sacristy completed

1324–1353 – Construction of the chapel of Saint Piat

1417 – Chapel of the Annunciation completed

1507–1513 – North tower, damaged by a fire, is rebuilt in Flamboyant Gothic style

1513 – Work begins on the choir tower by Jehan de Beuce

1520- Pavillon de l'Horloge clock tower loge begun on the north side

1594 – Since Reims Cathedral is occupied by the Catholic League, coronation of King Henry IV of France held in Chartres

1789 – Following French Revolution, church property seized and Catholic worship forbidden

1792 – Cathedral treasury confiscated by revolutionary government

1802 – Church restored to the Catholic Church for its exclusive use

1805 – Restoration of church begins

1836 – Fire destroys the roof beams and roof. They are replaced with a metal structure and copper roof

1840 – Cathedral classified a national historical monument

1857 – Completion of Notre-Dame-du-Pilier

1908 – Cathedral granted status of basilica

1979 – Cathedral is declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site

1992 – New main altar by the Georgian-French sculptor Goudji installed in choir

1994 – Cathedral celebrates 800th anniversary of first reconstruction

2009 – New restoration campaign, including cleaning and repainting walls to recreate original light colors and atmosphere

 

Statistics

Length: 130 metres (430 ft)

Width: 32 metres (105 ft) / 46 metres (151 ft)

Nave: height 37 metres (121 ft); width 16.4 metres (54 ft)

Ground area: 10,875 square metres (117,060 sq ft)

Height of south-west tower: 105 metres (344 ft)

Height of north-west tower: 113 metres (371 ft)

176 stained-glass windows

Choir enclosure: 200 statues in 41 scenes

 

The plan, like other Gothic cathedrals, is in the form of a cross and was determined by the shape and size of the 11th-century Romanesque cathedral, whose crypt and vestiges are underneath it. A two-bay narthex at the western end opens into a seven bay nave leading to the crossing, from which wide transepts extend three bays each to north and south. East of the crossing are four rectangular bays terminating in a semicircular apse. The nave and transepts are flanked by single aisles, broadening to a double-aisled ambulatory around the choir and apse. From the ambulatory three deep semi-circular chapels radiate (overlying the deep chapels of Fulbert's 11th-century crypt).

 

While the floor plan was traditional, the elevation was bolder and more original, thanks to the use of the flying buttress to support the upper walls. This was the first known use in a Gothic cathedral. These heavy columns of stone were joined to the walls by double stone arches, and reinforced by columns, like the spokes of a wheel. Each of these columns is made from a single piece of stone. The arches press against the walls, counterbalancing the outward thrust from the rib vaults over the cathedral interior. These vaults were also innovative, having just four compartments, unlike the six-part vaults of earlier Gothic churches. They were lighter and could cross a greater distance. Since the flying buttresses were experimental, the architect prudently added additional buttresses concealed under roofs of the aisles.

 

The elevations of earlier Gothic cathedrals usually had four levels to give them solidity; an arcade of massive columns on the ground floor, supporting a wide arched tribune gallery or tribune, below a narrower arcade triforium; then, under the roof, the higher and thinner walls, or clerestory, where the windows were. Thanks to the buttresses, the architects of Chartres could eliminate the gallery entirely, make the triforium very narrow, and have much more room for windows above. Chartres was not the first cathedral to use this innovation, but it used it much more consistently and effectively throughout. This buttressing plan was adopted by the other major 13th-century cathedrals, notably Amiens Cathedral and Reims Cathedral.

 

Another architectural innovation at Chartres was the design of the massive piers or pillars on the ground floor which receive the weight of the roof through the thin stone ribs of vaults above. The weight of the roof is carried by the thin stone ribs of the vaults outwards to the walls, where it is counterbalanced by the flying buttresses, and downwards, first through columns made of ribs joined together, then by alternating round and octagonal solid cored piers, each of which bundles together four half-columns. This pier design, known as pilier cantonné, was strong, simple, and elegant, and permitted the large stained glass windows of the clerestory, or upper level.

 

Although the sculpture on the portals at Chartres is generally of a high standard, the various carved elements inside, such as the capitals and string courses, are relatively poorly finished (when compared for example with those at Reims or Soissons) – the reason is simply that the portals were carved from the finest Parisian limestone, or ' 'calcaire' ', while the internal capitals were carved from the local "Berchères stone", that is hard to work and can be brittle.

 

The two towers were built at different times, during the Gothic period, and have different heights and decoration. The north tower was begun in 1134, to replace a Romanesque tower that was damaged by fire. It was completed in 1150 and originally was just two stories high, with a lead-covered roof. The south tower was begun in about 1144 and was finished in 1150. It was more ambitious, and has an octagonal masonry spire on a square tower, and reaches a height of 105 meters. It was built without an interior wooden framework; the flat stone sides narrow progressively to the pinnacle, and heavy stone pyramids around the base give it additional support.

 

The two towers survived the devastating fire of 1194, which destroyed most of the cathedral except the west façade and crypt. As the cathedral was rebuilt, the famous west rose window was installed between the two towers (13th century), and in 1507, the architect Jean Texier (also sometimes known as Jehan de Beauce) designed a spire for the north tower, to give it a height and appearance closer to that of the south tower. This work was completed in 1513. The north tower is in a more decorative Flamboyant Gothic style, with pinnacles and buttresses. It reaches a height of 113 meters, just above the south tower. Plans were made for the addition of seven more spires around the cathedral, but these were abandoned.

 

At the base of the north tower is a small structure which contains a Renaissance-era twenty-four-hour clock with a polychrome face, constructed in 1520 by Jean Texier. The face of the clock is eighteen feet in diameter.

 

A fire in 1836 destroyed the roof and belfries of the cathedral, and melted the bells, but did not damage the structure below or the stained glass. The timber beams under the roof were replaced with an iron framework covered with copper plates.

 

The portals and their sculpture

The cathedral has three great portals or entrances, opening into the nave from the west and into the transepts from north and south. The portals are richly decorated with sculptures, which rendered biblical stories and theological ideas visible for both the educated clergy and layfolk who may not have had access to textual learning. Each of the three portals on the west façade (made 1145–55) focuses on a different aspect of Christ's role in the world; on the right, his earthly Incarnation, on the left, his Ascension or his existence before his Incarnation (the era "ante legem"), and, in the center, his Second Coming, initiating the End of Time. The statuary of the Chartres portals is considered among the finest existing Gothic sculpture.

 

One of the few parts of the cathedral to survive the 1194 fire, the Portail royal was integrated into the new cathedral. Opening on to the parvis (the large square in front of the cathedral where markets were held), the two lateral doors would have been the first entry point for most visitors to Chartres, as they remain today. The central door is only opened for the entry of processions on major festivals, of which the most important is the Adventus or installation of a new bishop. The harmonious appearance of the façade results in part from the relative proportions of the central and lateral portals, whose widths are in the ratio 10:7 – one of the common medieval approximations of the square root of 2.

 

As well as their basic functions of providing access to the interior, portals are the main locations for sculpted images on the Gothic cathedral and it is on the west façade at Chartres that this practice began to develop into a visual summa or encyclopedia of theological knowledge. Each of the three portals focuses on a different aspect of Christ's role in salvation history; his earthly incarnation on the right, his Ascension or existence before the Incarnation on the left, and his Second Coming (the Theophanic Vision) in the center.

 

Above the right portal, the lintel is carved in two registers with (lower) the Annunciation, Visitation, Nativity, Annunciation to the Shepherds and (upper) the Presentation in the Temple. Above this the tympanum shows the Virgin and Child enthroned in the Sedes sapientiae pose. Surrounding the tympanum, as a reminder of the glory days of the School of Chartres, the archivolts are carved with some very distinctive personifications of the Seven Liberal Arts as well as the classical authors and philosophers most closely associated with them.

 

The left portal is more enigmatic and art historians still argue over the correct identification. The tympanum shows Christ standing on a cloud, apparently supported by two angels. Some see this as a depiction of the Ascension of Christ (in which case the figures on the lower lintel would represent the disciples witnessing the event) while others see it as representing the Parousia, or Second Coming of Christ (in which case the lintel figures could be either the prophets who foresaw that event or else the 'Men of Galilee' mentioned in Acts 1:9-11). The presence of angels in the upper lintel, descending from a cloud and apparently shouting to those below, would seem to support the latter interpretation. The archivolts contain the signs of the zodiac and the labours of the months – standard references to the cyclical nature of time which appear in many Gothic portals.

 

The central portal is a more conventional representation of the End of Time as described in the Book of Revelation. In the center of the tympanum is Christ within a mandorla, surrounded by the four symbols of the evangelists (the Tetramorph). The lintel shows the Twelve Apostles while the archivolts show the 24 Elders of the Apocalypse.

 

Although the upper parts of the three portals are treated separately, two sculptural elements run horizontally across the façade, uniting its different parts. Most obvious are the jamb statues affixed to the columns flanking the doorways – tall, slender standing figures of kings and queens from whom the Portail royal derived its name. Although in the 18th and 19th century these figures were mistakenly identified as the Merovingian monarchs of France (thus attracting the opprobrium of Revolutionary iconoclasts) they almost certainly represent the kings and queens of the Old Testament – another standard iconographical feature of Gothic portals.

 

Less obvious than the jamb statues but far more intricately carved is the frieze that stretches all across the façade in the sculpted capitals on top of the jamb columns. Carved into these capitals is a very lengthy narrative depicting the life of the Virgin and the life and Passion of Christ.

 

The statuary of the north transept portals is devoted to the Old Testament, and the events leading up to the birth of Christ, with particular emphasis on the Virgin Mary. The glorification of Mary in the center, the incarnation of her son on the left and Old Testament prefigurations and prophecies on the right. One major exception to this scheme is the presence of large statues of St Modesta (a local martyr) and St Potentian on the north west corner of the porch, close to a small doorway where pilgrims visiting the crypt (where their relics were stored) would once have emerged.

 

As well as the main sculptural areas around the portals themselves, the deep porches are filled with other carvings depicting a range of subjects including local saints, Old Testament narratives, naturalistic foliage, fantastical beasts, Labours of the Months and personifications of the 'active and contemplative lives' (the vita activa and vita contemplativa). The personifications of the vita activa (directly overhead, just inside the inside of the left hand porch) are of particular interest for their meticulous depictions of the various stages in the preparation of flax – an important cash crop in the area during the Middle Ages.

 

The south portal, which was added later than the others, in the 13th century, is devoted to events after the Crucifixion of Christ, and particularly to the Christian martyrs. The decoration of the central bay concentrates on the Last Judgemnt and the Apostles; the left bay on the lives of martyrs; and the right bay is devoted to confessor saints. This arrangement is repeated in the stained glass windows of the apse. The arches and columns of the porch are lavishly decorated with sculpture representing the labours of the months, the signs of the zodiac, and statues representing the virtues and vices. On top of the porch, between the gables, are pinnacles in the arcades with statues of eighteen Kings, beginning with King David, representing the lineage of Christ, and linking the Old Testament and the New.

 

While most of the sculpture of the cathedral portrayed saints, apostles and other Biblical figures, such as the angel holding a sundial on the south façade, other sculpture at Chartres was designed to warn the faithful. These works include statues of assorted monsters and demons. Some of these figures, such as gargoyles, also had a practical function; these served as rain spouts to project water far away from the walls. Others, like the chimera and the strix, were designed to show the consequences of disregarding Biblical teachings.

 

The nave, or main space for the congregation, was designed especially to receive pilgrims, who would often sleep in the church. The floor is slightly tilted so that it could be washed out with water each morning. The rooms on either side of Royal Portal still have traces of construction of the earlier Romanesque building. The nave itself was built after the fire, beginning in 1194. The floor of the nave also has a labyrinth in the pavement (see labyrinth section below). The two rows of alternating octagonal and round pillars on either side of the nave receive part of the weight of the roof through the thin stone ribs descending from the vaults above. The rest of the weight is distributed by the vaults outwards to the walls, supported by flying buttresses.

 

The statue of Mary and the infant Christ, called Our Lady of the Pillar, replaces a 16th-century statue which was burned by the Revolutionaries in 1793.

 

Stained glass windows

See also: Stained glass windows of Chartres Cathedral

One of the most distinctive features of Chartres Cathedral is the stained glass, both for its quantity and quality. There are 167 windows, including rose windows, round oculi, and tall, pointed lancet windows. The architecture of the cathedral, with its innovative combination of rib vaults and flying buttresses, permitted the construction of much higher and thinner walls, particularly at the top clerestory level, allowing more and larger windows. Also, Chartres contains fewer plain or grisaille windows than later cathedrals, and more windows with densely stained glass panels, making the interior of Chartres darker but the colour of the light deeper and richer.

 

These are the oldest windows in the cathedral. The right window, the Jesse Window, depicts the genealogy of Christ. The middle window depicts the life of Christ, and the left window depicts the Passion of Christ, from the Transfiguration and Last Supper to the Resurrection. All three of these windows were originally made around 1145 but were restored in the early 13th century and again in the 19th.

 

The other 12th-century window, perhaps the most famous at Chartres, is the "Notre-Dame de la Belle-Verrière", or "The Blue Virgin". It is found in the first bay of the choir after the south transept. Most windows are made up of around 25 to 30 individual panels showing distinct episodes within the narrative; only Notre-Dame de la Belle-Verrière includes a larger image made up of multiple panels. This window is actually a composite; the upper part, showing the Virgin and Child surrounded by adoring angels, dates from around 1180 and was probably positioned at the center of the apse in the earlier building. The Virgin is depicted wearing a blue robe and sitting in a frontal pose on a throne, with the Christ Child seated on her lap raising his hand in blessing. This composition, known as the Sedes sapientiae ("Throne of Wisdom"), which also appears on the Portail royal, is based on the famous cult figure kept in the crypt. The lower part of the window, showing scenes from the infancy of Christ, dates from the main glazing campaign around 1225.

 

The cathedral has three large rose windows. The western rose (c. 1215, 12 m in diameter) shows the Last Judgment – a traditional theme for west façades. A central oculus showing Christ as the Judge is surrounded by an inner ring of twelve paired roundels containing angels and the Elders of the Apocalypse and an outer ring of 12 roundels showing the dead emerging from their tombs and the angels blowing trumpets to summon them to judgment.

 

The north transept rose (10.5 m diameter, c. 1235), like much of the sculpture in the north porch beneath it, is dedicated to the Virgin. The central oculus shows the Virgin and Child and is surrounded by twelve small petal-shaped windows, four with doves (the 'Four Gifts of the Spirit'), the rest with adoring angels carrying candlesticks. Beyond this is a ring of twelve diamond-shaped openings containing the Old Testament Kings of Judah, another ring of smaller lozenges containing the arms of France and Castille, and finally a ring of semicircles containing Old Testament Prophets holding scrolls. The presence of the arms of the French king (yellow fleurs-de-lis on a blue background) and of his mother, Blanche of Castile (yellow castles on a red background) are taken as a sign of royal patronage for this window. Beneath the rose itself are five tall lancet windows (7.5 m high) showing, in the center, the Virgin as an infant held by her mother, St Anne – the same subject as the trumeau in the portal beneath it. Flanking this lancet are four more containing Old Testament figures. Each of these standing figures is shown symbolically triumphing over an enemy depicted in the base of the lancet beneath them – David over Saul, Aaron over Pharaoh, St Anne over Synagoga, etc.

 

The south transept rose (10.5 m diameter, made c. 1225–30) is dedicated to Christ, who is shown in the central oculus, right hand raised in benediction, surrounded by adoring angels. Two outer rings of twelve circles each contain the 24 Elders of the Apocalypse, crowned and carrying phials and musical instruments. The central lancet beneath the rose shows the Virgin carrying the infant Christ. Either side of this are four lancets showing the four evangelists sitting on the shoulders of four prophets – a rare literal illustration of the theological principle that the New Testament builds upon the Old Testament. This window was a donation of the Mauclerc family, the Counts of Dreux-Bretagne, who are depicted with their arms in the bases of the lancets.

 

Each bay of the aisles and the choir ambulatory contains one large lancet window, most of them roughly 8.1m high by 2.2m wide. The subjects depicted in these windows, made between 1205 and 1235, include stories from the Old and New Testament and the Lives of the Saints as well as typological cycles and symbolic images such as the signs of the zodiac and labours of the months. One of the most famous examples is the Good Samaritan parable.

 

Several of the windows at Chartres include images of local tradesmen or labourers in the lowest two or three panels, often with details of their equipment and working methods. Traditionally it was claimed that these images represented the guilds of the donors who paid for the windows. In recent years however this view has largely been discounted, not least because each window would have cost around as much as a large mansion house to make – while most of the labourers depicted would have been subsistence workers with little or no disposable income. Furthermore, although they became powerful and wealthy organisations in the later medieval period, none of these trade guilds had actually been founded when the glass was being made in the early 13th century. Another possible explanation is that the cathedral clergy wanted to emphasise the universal reach of the Church, particularly at a time when their relationship with the local community was often a troubled one.

 

Clerestory windows

Because of their greater distance from the viewer, the windows in the clerestory generally adopt simpler, bolder designs. Most feature the standing figure of a saint or Apostle in the upper two-thirds, often with one or two simplified narrative scenes in the lower part, either to help identify the figure or else to remind the viewer of some key event in their life. Whereas the lower windows in the nave arcades and the ambulatory consist of one simple lancet per bay, the clerestory windows are each made up of a pair of lancets with a plate-traceried rose window above. The nave and transept clerestory windows mainly depict saints and Old Testament prophets. Those in the choir depict the kings of France and Castile and members of the local nobility in the straight bays, while the windows in the apse hemicycle show those Old Testament prophets who foresaw the virgin birth, flanking scenes of the Annunciation, Visitation and Nativity in the axial window.

 

Later windows

On the whole, Chartres' windows have been remarkably fortunate. The medieval glass largely escaped harm during the Huguenot iconoclasm and the religious wars of the 16th century although the west rose sustained damage from artillery fire in 1591. The relative darkness of the interior seems to have been a problem for some. A few windows were replaced with much lighter grisaille glass in the 14th century to improve illumination, particularly on the north side and several more were replaced with clear glass in 1753 as part of the reforms to liturgical practice that also led to the removal of the jubé (rood screen). The installation of the Vendôme Chapel between two buttresses of the nave in the early 15th century resulted in the loss of one more lancet window, though it did allow for the insertion of a fine late-Gothic window with donor portraits of Louis de Bourbon and his family witnessing the Coronation of the Virgin with assorted saints.

 

Although estimates vary (depending on how one counts compound or grouped windows) approximately 152 of the original 176 stained glass windows survive – far more than any other medieval cathedral anywhere in the world.

 

Like most medieval buildings, the windows at Chartres suffered badly from the corrosive effects of atmospheric acids during the Industrial Revolution and thereafter. The majority of windows were cleaned and restored by the famous local workshop Atelier Lorin at the end of the 19th century, but they continued to deteriorate. During World War II most of the stained glass was removed from the cathedral and stored in the surrounding countryside to protect it from damage. At the close of the war the windows were taken out of storage and reinstalled. Since then, an ongoing programme of conservation has been underway and isothermal secondary glazing was gradually installed on the exterior to protect the windows from further damage.

 

The small Saint Lubin Crypt, under the choir of the cathedral, was constructed in the 9th century and is the oldest part of the building. It is surrounded by a much larger crypt, the Saint Fulbert Crypt, which was completed in 1025, five years after the fire that destroyed most of the older cathedral. It is U-shaped and 230 meters long, next to the crypts of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome and Canterbury Cathedral. It is the largest crypt in Europe and serves as the foundation of the cathedral above.

 

The corridors and chapels of the crypt are covered with Romanesque barrel vaults, groin vaults where two barrel vaults meet at right angles, and a few more modern Gothic rib-vaults.

 

One notable feature of the crypt is the Well of the Saints-Forts. The well is thirty-three metres deep and is probably of Celtic origin. According to legend, Quirinus, the Roman magistrate of the Gallo-Roman town, had the early Christian martyrs thrown down the well. A statue of one of the martyrs, Modeste, is featured among the sculpture on the North Portico.

 

Another notable feature is the Our Lady of the Crypt Chapel. A reliquary here contains a fragment of the reputed veil of the Virgin Mary, which was donated to the cathedral in 876 by Charles the Bald, the grandson of Charlemagne. The silk veil was divided into pieces during the French Revolution. The largest piece is shown in one of the ambulatory chapels above. and the small Shrine of Our Lady of the Crypt. The altar of the chapel is carved from a single block of limestone from the Berchères quarry, the source of most of the stone of the cathedral. The fresco on the wall dates from about 1200 and depicts the Virgin Mary on her throne. The Three Kings are to her left, and the Apostles Savinien and Potentien to her right. The chapel also has a modern stained glass window, the Mary, Door to Heaven Window, made by Henri Guérin, made by cementing together thick slabs of stained glass.

 

The high ornamental stone screen that separates the choir from the ambulatory was put in place between the 16th and 18th century, to adapt the church to a change in liturgy. It was built in the late Flamboyant Gothic and then the Renaissance style. The screen has forty niches along the ambulatory filled with statues by prominent sculptors telling the life of Christ. The last statues were put in place in 1714.

 

The buffet, or wooden case of the grand organ of the cathedral is among the oldest in France. It was first built in the 14th century, rebuilt in 1475, and enlarged in 1542. Both the organ and the tribune have been classified as separate historic monuments since 1840.

 

The organ is placed in the nave at the crossing of the south transept, sixteen meters above the floor of the nave, in close proximity to the choir, to assure the best sound quality throughout the cathedral. The whole case is fifteen meters high, with the top of its central tower thirty meters above the floor of the nave. The case was rebuilt during the Renaissance, and largely took its present form. Closer study of the case by the Ministry of Culture showed that the early case was covered with polychrome painting; yellow ochre under a varnish of reddish brown in earlier layer, and later by a brighter yellow on white. This study also showed that the mechanism was in very poor condition, and urgently needed reconstruction.

 

A major rebuilding and enlargement of the organ instrument took place in 1969–71, both to restore the ageing mechanism, and to add new keys and functions. The case was also restored, with the cost paid entirely by the French State, as was part of the cost of restoring the organ itself. As a result of this, and after further work on the organ in 1996, the instrument has 70 stops, totaling of over 4000 pipes.

 

The labyrinth (early 1200s) is a famous feature of the cathedral, located on the floor in the center of the nave. Labyrinths were found in almost all Gothic cathedrals, though most were later removed since they distracted from the religious services in the nave. They symbolized the long winding path towards salvation. Unlike mazes, there was only a single path that could be followed. On certain days the chairs of the nave are removed so that visiting pilgrims can follow the labyrinth. Copies of the Chartres labyrinth are found at other churches and cathedrals, including Grace Cathedral, San Francisco. Artist Kent Bellows depicts a direct reference to the labyrinth, which he renders in the background of at least one of his artworks; Mandala, 1990, Pencil on paper, 18 x 19 1/2 in.

 

The Chapel of Saint Piatus of Tournai was a later addition to the cathedral, built in 1326, close to the apse at the east end of the cathedral. It contained a collection of reputed relics from the saint, who was bishop of Tournai in modern-day Belgium in the third century. Martyred by the Romans, who cut off the top of his skull, he is depicted in stained glass and sculpture holding the fragment of his skull in his hands. The chapel has a flat chevet and two circular towers. Inside are four bays, in a harmonious style, since it was built all at the same time. It also contains a notable collection of 14th-century stained glass. The lower floor was used as a chapter house, or meeting place for official functions, and the top floor was connected to the cathedral by an open stairway.

 

The sacristy, across from the north portal of the cathedral, was built in the second half of the 13th century. The bishop's palace, also to the north, is built of brick and stone, and dates to the 17th century. A gateway from the period of Louis XV leads to the palace and also gives access to the terraced gardens, which offer of good view of the cathedral, particularly the chevet of the cathedral at the east end, with its radiating chapels built over the earlier Romanesque vaults. The lower garden also has a labyrinth of hedges.

 

Construction

Work was begun on the Royal Portal with the south lintel around 1136 and with all its sculpture installed up to 1141. Opinions are uncertain as the sizes and styles of the figures vary and some elements, such as the lintel over the right-hand portal, have clearly been cut down to fit the available spaces. The sculpture was originally designed for these portals, but the layouts were changed by successive masters, see careful lithic analysis by John James. Either way, most of the carving follows the exceptionally high standard typical of this period and exercised a strong influence on the subsequent development of Gothic portal design.

 

Some of the masters have been identified by John James, and drafts of these studies have been published on the web site of the International Center of Medieval Art, New York.

 

On 10 June 1194, another fire caused extensive damage to Fulbert's cathedral. The true extent of the damage is unknown, though the fact that the lead cames holding the west windows together survived the conflagration intact suggests contemporary accounts of the terrible devastation may have been exaggerated. Either way, the opportunity was taken to begin a complete rebuilding of the choir and nave in the latest style. The undamaged western towers and façade were incorporated into the new works, as was the earlier crypt, effectively limiting the designers of the new building to the same general plan as its predecessor. In fact, the present building is only marginally longer than Fulbert's cathedral.

 

One of the features of Chartres cathedral is the speed with which it was built – a factor which helped contribute to the consistency of its design. Even though there were innumerable changes to the details, the plan remains consistent. The major change occurred six years after work began when the seven deep chapels around the choir opening off a single ambulatory were turned into shallow recesses opening off a double-aisled ambulatory.

 

Australian architectural historian John James, who made a detailed study of the cathedral, has estimated that there were about 300 men working on the site at any one time, although it has to be acknowledged that current knowledge of working practices at this time is somewhat limited. Normally medieval churches were built from east to west so that the choir could be completed first and put into use (with a temporary wall sealing off the west end) while the crossing and nave were completed. Canon Delaporte argued that building work started at the crossing and proceeded outwards from there, but the evidence in the stonework itself is unequivocal, especially within the level of the triforium: the nave was at all times more advanced than ambulatory bays of the choir, and this has been confirmed by dendrochronology.

 

The builders were not working on a clean site; they would have had to clear back the rubble and surviving parts of the old church as they built the new. Work nevertheless progressed rapidly: the south porch with most of its sculpture was installed by 1210, and by 1215 the north porch and the west rose window were completed. The nave high vaults were erected in the 1220s, the canons moved into their new stalls in 1221 under a temporary roof at the level of the clerestory, and the transept roses were erected over the next two decades. The high vaults over the choir were not built until the last years of the 1250s, as was rediscovered in the first decade of the 21st century.

 

Restoration

From 1997 until 2018, the exterior of the cathedral underwent an extensive cleaning, that also included many of the interior walls and the sculpture. The statement of purpose declared, "the restoration aims not only to clean and maintains the structure but also to offer an insight into what the cathedral would have looked like in the 13th century." The walls and sculpture, blackened by soot and age, again became white. The celebrated Black Madonna statue was cleaned, and her face was found to be white under the soot. The project went further; the walls in the nave were painted white and shades of yellow and beige, to recreate an idea of the earlier medieval decoration. However, the restoration also brought sharp criticism. The architectural critic of the New York Times, Martin Filler, called it "a scandalous desecration of a cultural holy place." He also noted that the bright white walls made it more difficult to appreciate the colours of the stained glass windows, and declared that the work violated international conservation protocols, in particular, the 1964 Charter of Venice of which France is a signatory. The president of the Friends of Chartres Cathedral Isabelle Paillot defended the restoration work as necessary to prevent the building from crumbling.

 

The School of Chartres

At the beginning of the 11th century, Bishop Fulbert besides rebuilding the cathedral, established Chartres as a cathedral school, an important center of religious scholarship and theology. He attracted important theologians, including Thierry of Chartres, William of Conches and the Englishman John of Salisbury. These men were at the forefront of the intense intellectual rethinking that culminated in what is now known as the twelfth-century renaissance, pioneering the Scholastic philosophy that came to dominate medieval thinking throughout Europe. By the mid-12th century, the role of Chartres had waned, as it was replaced by the University of Paris as the leading school of theology. The primary activity of Chartres became pilgrimages.

 

Social and economic context

As with any medieval bishopric, Chartres Cathedral was the most important building in the town – the center of its economy, its most famous landmark and the focal point of many activities that in modern towns are provided for by specialised civic buildings. In the Middle Ages, the cathedral functioned as a kind of marketplace, with different commercial activities centred on the different portals, particularly during the regular fairs. Textiles were sold around the north transept, while meat, vegetable and fuel sellers congregated around the south porch. Money-changers (an essential service at a time when each town or region had its own currency) had their benches, or banques, near the west portals and also in the nave itself.[citation needed] Wine sellers plied their trade in the nave to avoid taxes until, sometime in the 13th century, an ordinance forbade this. The ordinance assigned to the wine-sellers part of the crypt, where they could avoid the count's taxes without disturbing worshippers. Workers of various professions gathered in particular locations around the cathedral awaiting offers of work.

 

Although the town of Chartres was under the judicial and tax authority of the Counts of Blois, the area immediately surrounding the cathedral, known as the cloître, was in effect a free-trade zone governed by the church authorities, who were entitled to the taxes from all commercial activity taking place there. As well as greatly increasing the cathedral's income, throughout the 12th and 13th centuries this led to regular disputes, often violent, between the bishops, the chapter and the civic authorities – particularly when serfs belonging to the counts transferred their trade (and taxes) to the cathedral. In 1258, after a series of bloody riots instigated by the count's officials, the chapter finally gained permission from the King to seal off the area of the cloître and lock the gates each night.

 

Pilgrimages and the legend of the Sancta Camisa

Even before the Gothic cathedral was built, Chartres was a place of pilgrimage, albeit on a much smaller scale. During the Merovingian and early Carolingian eras, the main focus of devotion for pilgrims was a well (now located in the north side of Fulbert's crypt), known as the Puits des Saints-Forts, or the 'Well of the Strong Saints', into which it was believed the bodies of various local Early-Christian martyrs (including saints Piat, Chéron, Modesta and Potentianus) had been tossed.

 

Chartres became a site for the veneration of the Blessed Virgin Mary. In 876 the cathedral acquired the Sancta Camisa, believed to be the tunic worn by Mary at the time of Christ's birth. According to legend, the relic was given to the cathedral by Charlemagne who received it as a gift from Emperor Constantine VI during a crusade to Jerusalem. However, as Charlemagne's crusade is fiction, the legend lacks historical merit and was probably invented in the 11th century to authenticate relics at the Abbey of St Denis. In fact, the Sancta Camisa was a gift to the cathedral from Charles the Bald and there is no evidence for its being an important object of pilgrimage prior to the 12th century. In 1194, when the cathedral was struck by lightning, and the east spire was lost, the Sancta Camisa was thought lost, too. However, it was found three days later, protected by priests, who fled behind iron trapdoors when the fire broke out.

 

Some research suggests that depictions in the cathedral, e.g. Mary's infertile parents Joachim and Anne, harken back to the pre-Christian cult of a fertility goddess, and women would come to the well at this location in order to pray for their children and that some refer to that past. Chartres historian and expert Malcolm Miller rejected the claims of pre-cathedral, Celtic, ceremonies and buildings on the site in a documentary. However, the widespread belief[citation needed] that the cathedral was also the site of a pre-Christian druidical sect who worshipped a "Virgin who will give birth" is purely a late-medieval invention.

 

By the end of the 12th century, the church had become one of the most important popular pilgrimage destinations in Europe. There were four great fairs which coincided with the main feast days of the Virgin Mary: the Presentation, the Annunciation, the Assumption and the Nativity. The fairs were held in the area administered by the cathedral and were attended by many of the pilgrims in town to see the cloak of the Virgin. Specific pilgrimages were also held in response to outbreaks of disease. When ergotism (more popularly known in the Middle Ages as "St. Anthony's fire") afflicted many victims, the crypt of the original church became a hospital to care for the sick.

 

Today Chartres continues to attract large numbers of pilgrims, many of whom come to walk slowly around the labyrinth, their heads bowed in prayer – a devotional practice that the cathedral authorities accommodate by removing the chairs from the nave on Fridays from Lent to All Saints' Day (except for Good Friday).

 

Orson Welles famously used Chartres as a visual backdrop and inspiration for a montage sequence in his film F For Fake. Welles' semi-autobiographical narration spoke to the power of art in culture and how the work itself may be more important than the identity of its creators. Feeling that the beauty of Chartres and its unknown artisans and architects epitomized this sentiment, Welles, standing outside the cathedral and looking at it, eulogizes:

 

Now this has been standing here for centuries. The premier work of man perhaps in the whole western world and it's without a signature: Chartres.

 

A celebration to God's glory and to the dignity of man. All that's left most artists seem to feel these days, is man. Naked, poor, forked radish. There aren't any celebrations. Ours, the scientists keep telling us, is a universe, which is disposable. You know it might be just this one anonymous glory of all things, this rich stone forest, this epic chant, this gaiety, this grand choiring shout of affirmation, which we choose when all our cities are dust, to stand intact, to mark where we have been, to testify to what we had it in us, to accomplish.

 

Our works in stone, in paint, in print are spared, some of them for a few decades, or a millennium or two, but everything must finally fall in war or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash. The triumphs and the frauds, the treasures and the fakes. A fact of life. We're going to die. "Be of good heart," cry the dead artists out of the living past. Our songs will all be silenced – but what of it? Go on singing. Maybe a man's name doesn't matter all that much.

 

(Church bells peal...)

 

Joseph Campbell references his spiritual experience in The Power of Myth:

 

I'm back in the Middle Ages. I'm back in the world that I was brought up in as a child, the Roman Catholic spiritual-image world, and it is magnificent ... That cathedral talks to me about the spiritual information of the world. It's a place for meditation, just walking around, just sitting, just looking at those beautiful things.

 

Joris-Karl Huysmans includes detailed interpretation of the symbolism underlying the art of Chartres Cathedral in his 1898 semi-autobiographical novel La cathédrale.

 

Chartres was the primary basis for the fictional cathedral in David Macaulay's Cathedral: The Story of Its Construction and the animated special based on this book.

 

Chartres was an important setting in the religious thriller Gospel Truths by J. G. Sandom. The book used the cathedral's architecture and history as clues in the search for a lost Gospel.

 

The cathedral is featured in the television travel series The Naked Pilgrim; presenter Brian Sewell explores the cathedral and discusses its famous relic – the nativity cloak said to have been worn by the Virgin Mary.

 

Popular action-adventure video game Assassin's Creed features a climbable cathedral modelled heavily on the Chartres Cathedral.

 

Chartres Cathedral and, especially, its labyrinth are featured in the novels Labyrinth and The City of Tears by Kate Mosse, who was educated in and is a resident of Chartres' twin city Chichester.

 

Chartres Light Celebration

One of the attractions at the Chartres Cathedral is the Chartres Light Celebration, when not only is the cathedral lit, but so are many buildings throughout the town, as a celebration of electrification.

 

Chartres is the prefecture of the Eure-et-Loir department in the Centre-Val de Loire region in France. It is located about 90 km (56 mi) southwest of Paris. At the 2019 census, there were 170,763 inhabitants in the metropolitan area of Chartres (as defined by the INSEE), 38,534 of whom lived in the city (commune) of Chartres proper.

 

Chartres is famous worldwide for its cathedral. Mostly constructed between 1193 and 1250, this Gothic cathedral is in an exceptional state of preservation. The majority of the original stained glass windows survive intact, while the architecture has seen only minor changes since the early 13th century. Part of the old town, including most of the library associated with the School of Chartres, was destroyed by Allied bombs in 1944.

 

History

Chartres was one of the principal towns in Gaul of the Carnutes, a Celtic tribe. In the Gallo-Roman period, it was called Autricum, name derived from the river Autura (Eure), and afterwards civitas Carnutum, "city of the Carnutes", from which Chartres got its name. The city was raided and burned down by the Norsemen in 858, and once again besieged, this time unsuccessfully, by them in 911.

 

During the Middle Ages, it was the most important town of the Beauce. It gave its name to a county which was held by the counts of Blois, and the counts of Champagne, and afterwards by the House of Châtillon, a member of which sold it to the Crown in 1286.

 

In 1417, during the Hundred Years' War, Chartres fell into the hands of the English, from whom it was recovered in 1432. In 1528, it was raised to the rank of a duchy by Francis I.

 

In 1568, during the Wars of Religion, Chartres was unsuccessfully besieged by the Huguenot leader, the Prince of Condé. It was finally taken by the royal troops of Henry IV on 19 April 1591. On Sunday, 27 February 1594, the cathedral of Chartres was the site of the coronation of Henry IV after he converted to the Catholic faith, the only king of France whose coronation ceremony was not performed in Reims.

 

In 1674, Louis XIV raised Chartres from a duchy to a duchy peerage in favor of his nephew, Duke Philippe II of Orléans. The title of Duke of Chartres was hereditary in the House of Orléans, and given to the eldest son of the Duke of Orléans.

 

In the 1870–1871 Franco-Prussian War, Chartres was seized by the Germans on 2 October 1870, and continued during the rest of the war to be an important centre of operations.

 

In World War II, the city suffered heavy damage by bombing and during the battle of Chartres in August 1944, but its cathedral was spared by an American Army officer who challenged the order to destroy it. On 16 August 1944, Colonel Welborn Barton Griffith, Jr. questioned the necessity of destroying the cathedral and volunteered to go behind enemy lines to find out whether the Germans were using it as an observation post. With his driver, Griffith proceeded to the cathedral and, after searching it all the way up its bell tower, confirmed to Headquarters that it was empty of Germans. The order to destroy the cathedral was withdrawn.

 

Colonel Griffith was killed in action later on that day in the town of Lèves, 3.5 kilometres (2.2 miles) north of Chartres. For his heroic action both at Chartres and Lèves, Colonel Griffith received, posthumously, several decorations awarded by the President of the United States and the U.S. Military, and also from the French government.

 

Following deep reconnaissance missions in the region by the 3rd Cavalry Group and units of the 1139 Engineer Combat Group, and after heavy fighting in and around the city, Chartres was liberated, on 18 August 1944, by the U.S. 5th Infantry and 7th Armored Divisions belonging to the XX Corps of the U.S. Third Army commanded by General George S. Patton.

 

Geography

Chartres is built on a hill on the left bank of the river Eure. Its renowned medieval cathedral is at the top of the hill, and its two spires are visible from miles away across the flat surrounding lands. To the southeast stretches the fertile plain of Beauce, the "granary of France", of which the town is the commercial centre.

 

Main sights

Chartres is best known for its cathedral, the Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Chartres, which is considered one of the finest and best preserved Gothic cathedrals in France and in Europe. Its historical and cultural importance has been recognized by its inclusion on the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites.

 

It was built on the site of the former Chartres cathedral of Romanesque architecture, which was destroyed by fire in 1194 (that former cathedral had been built on the ruins of an ancient Celtic temple, later replaced by a Roman temple). Begun in 1205, the construction of Notre-Dame de Chartres was completed 66 years later.

 

The stained glass windows of the cathedral were financed by guilds of merchants and craftsmen, and by wealthy noblemen, whose names appear at the bottom.

 

It is not known how the famous and unique blue, bleu de Chartres, of the glass was created, and it has been impossible to replicate it. The French author Michel Pastoureau says that it could also be called bleu de Saint-Denis.

 

The Église Saint-Pierre de Chartres was the church of the Benedictine Abbaye Saint-Père-en-Vallée, founded in the 7th century by queen Balthild. At time of its construction, the abbey was outside the walls of the city. It contains fine stained glass and, formerly, twelve representations of the apostles in enamel, created about 1547 by Léonard Limosin, which now can be seen in the fine arts museum.

 

Other noteworthy churches of Chartres are Saint-Aignan (13th, 16th and 17th centuries), and Saint-Martin-au-Val (12th century), inside the Saint-Brice hospital.

 

Museums

Musée des Beaux-Arts, Fine arts museum, housed in the former episcopal palace adjacent to the cathedral.

Le Centre international du vitrail, a workshop-museum and cultural center devoted to stained glass art, located 50 metres (160 feet) from the cathedral.

Conservatoire du machinisme et des pratiques agricoles, an agricultural museum.

Musée le grenier de l'histoire, history museum specializing in military uniforms and accoutrements, in Lèves, a suburb of Chartres.

Muséum des sciences naturelles et de la préhistoire, Natural science and Prehistory Museum (closed since 2015).

Other sights

 

The Eure river running through Chartres

The river Eure, which at this point divides into three branches, is crossed by several bridges, some of them ancient, and is fringed in places by remains of the old fortifications, of which the Porte Guillaume (14th century), a gateway flanked by towers, was the most complete specimen, until destroyed by the retreating German army in the night of 15 to 16 August 1944. The steep, narrow streets of the old town contrast with the wide, shady boulevards which encircle it and separate it from the suburbs. The "parc André-Gagnon" or "Clos St. Jean", a pleasant park, lies to the north-west, and squares and open spaces are numerous.

 

Part of the Hôtel de Ville (City Hall) is a building of the 17th century called Hôtel de Montescot. The Maison Canoniale dating back to the 13th century, and several medieval and Renaissance houses, are of interest.

 

There is a statue of General Marceau (1769–1796), a native of Chartres and a general during the French Revolution.

 

La Maison Picassiette, a house decorated inside and out with mosaics of shards of broken china and pottery, is also worth a visit.

 

Economy

Chartres is one of the most important market towns in the region of Beauce (known as "the granary of France").

 

Historically, game pies and other delicacies of Chartres were well known, and the industries also included flour-milling, brewing, distilling, iron-founding, leather manufacture, perfumes, dyeing, stained glass, billiard requisites and hosiery. More recently, businesses include the manufacture of electronic equipment and car accessories.[citation needed]

 

Since 1976 the fashion and perfumes company Puig has had a production plant in this commune.

 

Transport

The Gare de Chartres railway station offers frequent services to Paris, and a few daily connections to Le Mans, Nogent-le-Rotrou and Courtalain. The A11 motorway connects Chartres with Paris and Le Mans.

 

Sport

Chartres is home to two semi-professio

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

KENZA Short Set: Kenny Rolands

 

Lady Hat by: Madame Noir

 

Jewelry Watch/Earrings: November

 

MVT LED Phone

 

MVT Winter Clutch Wine

 

Nails: Rosary Solidity

 

Heels: Enchante' Alexis

The two-barrel wooden medieval stand is crafted from mature oak, showcasing the rich, dark grains that speak to its age and solidity. Positioned in a grand medieval hall, the stand serves as both a functional piece and a decorative focal point.

It features two large barrels atop it, the oak matured to perfection, serving as containers for ale, mead or wine. Hanging above are polished tankards, inviting guests to partake in a hearty drink. The brass taps gleam in the warm light of the hall, adding an air of elegance and functionality to the rustic piece.

The lower shelf of the stand is practical yet charming, adorned with a burlap grain sack, hinting at the agricultural abundance of the time. Smaller vessels lie beside it, suggesting a readiness for serving and enjoying various beverages. This stand not only embodies the craftsmanship of the medieval era but also enhances the convivial atmosphere of the hall, making it a perfect gathering spot for feasting and festivities

 

Where To Find:

 

Marketplace Item:

marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Barrel-Stand/26816831

 

Marketplace Store:

marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/13406

 

Mainstore:

maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Northdal/39/64/1104

 

charcoal

28"x44"

Reworked drawing to give the image more mass/form/solidity. This will be a reference work for a repaint of an earlier large painting to be started soon.

www.petertudhope.com

'Over the Points' was a small quarterly magazine issued by the pre-nationalisation Southern Railway of England and handed out to holders of first class season tickets. It is of exemplary production, set and printed at the Curwen Press, who at the time were amongst the foremost printers around, and the look and feel of the periodical oozes Curwen's attention to detail. The vast majority of the line illustrations were undertaken by Victor Reinganum, in a very abstract style, typical of his work.

 

This is from an article on the work of the horse on the Southern Railway - nicely done, with the movement and solidity of the horse and wagon - and a new-fangled Belisha Beacon!

The Renault Express, nicknamed "Fourgonnette" in Burkina Faso, is a vehicle that has proven itself in terms of solidity and reliability. It is particularly popular with companies and individuals who organise coffee and meal breaks during meetings and social events. Here is an example of an Express from the third series (1994-2000) that came to the commune of Kordié via a bad road to provide a meal service.

 

La Renault Express surnommée "Fourgonnette" au Burkina Faso est un véhicule qui a fait ses preuves en termes de solidité et de fiabilité. Il est notamment très apprécié par les sociétés et particuliers qui organisent des pause-café et pauses repas lors de rencontres et d'événements sociaux. Ici un exemple d'Express de la troisième série (1994-2000) venue dans la commune de Kordié par une mauvaise piste pour une prestation de repas.

"The Dolder was the entrance of the city of Riquewihr built along the wall to the 13th century (in 1291). It was used to defend the city against any foreign intrusion thanks to its watchtower installed on the belfry. Dolder means in Alsatian "the highest point". The belfry is 25 meters high and was built to impress the enemy thanks to the military aspect of its exterior facade. The side facing the city gave a more pleasant aspect thanks to its beams in the form of and its four floors which were occupied by the caretaker's family. The guard had to keep watch and close the gate at the entrance to the village every evening and warn the population if something abnormal happened by sounding the alarm. For this he had a small bell on the top of the belfry. This bell was cast in 1842 and bore the inscription "It is joy, it is the alarm that my sound produces. By day I announce the din and the rest of the night ”. This monument is still today the most noticed emblem in the city. The interior of the Dolder, once the keeper's home, now houses the local museum of folk art and tradition on three of its floors. The tower houses a collection of 15th to 17th century weapons and various tools and objects directly related to the wine profession. There are also documents and memories of families as well as utensils from the time, the use of which has now completely disappeared. A glance along the surrounding wall, to the right and to the left of the Dolder and along the Semme reveals its picturesque side, the solidity and the importance of these fortifications.

 

Riquewihr / ʁik (ə) viːʁ / ( Rïchewïhr Alsatian) is a French commune located in the department of Haut-Rhin, in the region East Grand.

 

This town is located in the historical and cultural region of Alsace.

 

Riquewihr is a famous village in Alsace, very visited for its architectural heritage, a picturesque medieval city, untouched by the destruction of the two world wars. The village is south of Hunawihr and Ribeauvillé, 10 km north of Kaysersberg, in the heart of the Alsatian vineyard, on the Alsace wine route.

 

Nestled at the entrance of a wooded valley, protected by the Schœnenbourg against the northerly winds, Riquewihr slightly overlooks the Alsace plain and offers a magnificent view over the Rhine valley, from the Alps to Sélestat.

 

The three surrounding hills gave the logo of the Hugel et fils house, one of the largest wine-growing families in Riquewihr.

 

The mild local climate is very favorable to the cultivation of vines, the slopes with heavy soils and steep slopes offering no other possibilities.

 

Riquewihr is 3 km from Hunawihr where the stork park is located, 5 km from Ribeauvillé, 5 km from Kaysersberg, 13 km from Colmar and 70 km from Strasbourg.

 

It is one of the 188 municipalities of the Ballons des Vosges regional natural park.

 

In German, its name is Reichenweier, sometimes Reichenweiher or Reichenweyer.

 

Legend has it that the name of Riquewihr came from a certain Countess Richilde, for some, daughter of Adelaide, sister of Pope Leo IX, or for others granddaughter of Sainte-Hune, who would be, for her part, originally from Hunawihr.

 

Alsace (/ælˈsæs/, also US: /ælˈseɪs, ˈælsæs/; French: [alzas]; Low Alemannic German/Alsatian: 's Elsàss [ˈɛlsɑs]; German: Elsass [ˈɛlzas]; Latin: Alsatia) is a cultural and historical region in Eastern France, on the west bank of the upper Rhine next to Germany and Switzerland. In 2017, it had a population of 1,889,589.

 

Until 1871, Alsace included the area now known as the Territoire de Belfort, which formed its southernmost part. From 1982 to 2016, Alsace was the smallest administrative région in metropolitan France, consisting of the Bas-Rhin and Haut-Rhin departments. Territorial reform passed by the French Parliament in 2014 resulted in the merger of the Alsace administrative region with Champagne-Ardenne and Lorraine to form Grand Est. Due to protests it was decided in 2019 that Bas-Rhin and Haut-Rhin would form the future European Collectivity of Alsace in 2021.

 

Alsatian is an Alemannic dialect closely related to Swabian and Swiss German, although since World War II most Alsatians primarily speak French. Internal and international migration since 1945 has also changed the ethnolinguistic composition of Alsace. For more than 300 years, from the Thirty Years' War to World War II, the political status of Alsace was heavily contested between France and various German states in wars and diplomatic conferences. The economic and cultural capital of Alsace, as well as its largest city, is Strasbourg, which sits right on the contemporary German international border. The city is the seat of several international organisations and bodies." - info from Wikipedia.

 

During the summer of 2018 I went on my first ever cycling tour. On my own I cycled from Strasbourg, France to Geneva, Switzerland passing through the major cities of Switzerland. In total I cycled 1,185 km over the course of 16 days and took more than 8,000 photos.

 

Now on Instagram.

 

Become a patron to my photography on Patreon.

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

River Dargle Flood Defence Scheme.

These images were taken during the third week of November 2016.

 

These are the critical stabilisation works at the Silverbridge site, adjacent to the N11 dual-carriageway:

 

Back in November 2014, we observed bank stabilisation works here involving excavation, repair and building of a support wall structure -- carried out by JONS Construction on behalf of the National Roads Authority.

 

We would occasionally catch sight of this work in the distance. Quite an impressive little piece of structural engineering.

Having built a retaining concave wall, backfilled for solidity, they were also drilling, fixing and sealing ground anchors to pin the entire structure together.

 

flic.kr/p/paSU8U

 

Now we see that further works are being undertaken.

Word has it that extra ‘stabilisation work’ has to be done to protect the integrity of the riverbank. At the section here we can see that there’s not much space between the edge of the rock face and the Armco at the side of the dual-carriageway.

Have yet to determine what precisely that will entail. Serious work to reinforce the side access ramp down to the river.

 

The N11 carriageway runs adjacent to this sunken side of the riverbank -- barely 2 (large) paces divide the two. Even with twin strips of Armco along the roadside, it's perilously close. Traffic speeds along this stretch (maximum speed 100 kmp). Only needs a touch from a heavy vehicle to cause secondary impact, which (worst possible scenario) could result in something going airborne.

 

Working in these confined spaces puts a premium of safety and communication.

 

The guys have hard-filled a working shelf on the riverbed, to allow machinery access to the rockface. Obviously some serious drilling is called for before a form of extra 'pinning' is put in place.

They have sunk a series of hollowed tubes/casings -- obviously to form the foundations of a more extensive structure.

And some investigative work around the transverse buttress of the access bridge, parallel to the heavy-duty pipeline carrying water down from the Vartry reservoir.

 

This was the day when they started to fill those sunken tubes/casings with liquid cement. At a (rough) guess -- I'd say the foundations are sunk to a depth of approx 4+m.

With such secure foundations in place, they would then look to construct a substantial bank of material, and/or retaining wall (similar to that in place further along the roadside bank).

 

As ever, the first attempt at a process brings it's own unique set of issues.

The tight confines of the riverbed obliges the use of a concrete pumping rig with long-boom capacity.

Would you call this a '4 section' unit'? Built on a 4-axle chassis, I'd suggest that it's reach is approx 40+m.

 

The remotely-controlled unit siphons and pumps liquid concrete into the sunken wells. Immediately the guys agitate the mixture to remove any air pockets. Final step is to lower in a pre-formed steel skeleton brace, intended to reinforce the foundation.

 

While we were there, the guys struggled to sink the steel frame into the sunken sleeve. I can't believe it was a problem with alignment -- other similar frames dropped neatly into their appointed sleeve.

Perhaps simply a case that the compressed liquid solution was just inflexible enough to receive the steel skeleton. We left.

 

Will find out later what the outcome was.

 

… Oeuvre majestueuse et naturelle qui se tisse dans le silence absolu par un insecte solitaire…. mais combien efficace… La force, la résistance et la solidité impressionnantes de ce tissage attirent l'attention de grands chercheurs afin de l'appliquer dans beaucoup produits du quotidien dont le fibre de verre, sans oublier la Grande Toile ( web ) que l'on utilise quotidiennement… Quelle merveille On l'a découvre plus facilement les matins où les nuits fraîches les recouvrent d'un collier de perles en gouttelettes d'eau…

_____

" Web " … Natural work which is woven in absolute silence by a solitary insect…. but how effective… The impressive strength, resistance and solidity of this weaving draw the attention of great researchers in order to apply them in daily products such as fibreglass for example … Without forgetting the (World Wide Web) that we use on daily base …

_____

Ferstel

(Pictures you can see by clicking on the link at the end of page!)

 

Ferstel and Café Central, by Rudolf von Alt, left the men's alley (Herrengasse - Street of the Lords), right Strauchgasse

Danube mermaid fountain in a courtyard of the Palais Ferstel

Shopping arcade of the Freyung to Herrengasse

Entrance to Ferstel of the Freyung, right the Palais Harrach, left the palace Hardegg

The Ferstel is a building in the first district of Vienna, Inner City, with the addresses Strauchgasse 2-4, 14 Lord Street (Herrengasse) and Freyung 2. It was established as a national bank and stock exchange building, the denomination Palais is unhistoric.

History

In 1855, the entire estate between Freyung, Strauchgasse and Herrengasse was by Franz Xaver Imperial Count von Abensperg and Traun to the k.k. Privileged Austrian National Bank sold. This banking institution was previously domiciled in the Herrengasse 17/ Bankgasse. The progressive industrialization and the with it associated economic expansion also implied a rapid development of monetary transactions and banking, so that the current premises soon no longer have been sufficient. This problem could only be solved by a new building, in which also should be housed a stock exchange hall.

According to the desire of the then Governor of the National Bank, Franz von Pipitz, the new building was supposed to be carried out with strict observance of the economy and avoiding a worthless luxury with solidity and artistic as well as technical completion. The building should offer room for the National Bank, the stock market, a cafe and - a novel idea for Vienna - a bazaar.

The commissioned architect, Heinrich von Ferstel, demonstrated in the coping with the irregular surface area with highest conceivable effective use of space his state-of-the art talent. The practical requirements combine themselves with the actually artistic to a masterful composition. Ferstel has been able to lay out the rooms of the issuing bank, the two trading floors, the passage with the bazar and the coffee house in accordance with their intended purpose and at the same time to maintain a consistent style.

He was an advocate of the "Materialbaues" (material building) as it clearly is reflected in the ashlar building of the banking institution. Base, pillars and stairs were fashioned of Wöllersdorfer stone, façade elements such as balconies, cornices, structurings as well as stone banisters of the hard white stone of Emperor Kaiser quarry (Kaisersteinbruch), while the walls were made ​​of -Sankt Margarethen limestone. The inner rooms have been luxuriously formed, with wood paneling, leather wallpaper, Stuccolustro and rich ornamental painting.

The facade of the corner front Strauchgasse/Herrengasse received twelve sculptures by Hanns Gasser as decoration, they symbolized the peoples of the monarchy. The mighty round arch at the exit Freyung were closed with wrought-iron bare gates, because the first used locksmith could not meet the demands of Ferstel, the work was transferred to a silversmith.

1860 the National Bank and the stock exchange could move into the in 1859 completed construction. The following year was placed in the glass-covered passage the Danube mermaid fountain, whose design stems also of Ferstel. Anton von Fernkorn has created the sculptural decoration with an artistic sensitivity. Above the marble fountain basin rises a column crowned by a bronze statue, the Danube female with flowing hair, holding a fish in its hand. Below are arranged around the column three also in bronze cast figures: merchant, fisherman and shipbuilder, so those professions that have to do with the water. The total cost of the building, the interior included, amounted to the enormous sum of 1.897.600 guilders.

The originally planned use of the building remained only a few years preserved. The Stock Exchange with the premises no longer had sufficient space: in 1872 it moved to a provisional solution, 1877 at Schottenring a new Stock Exchange building opened. The National Bank moved 1925 into a yet 1913 planned, spacious new building.

The building was in Second World War battered gravely particularly on the main facade. In the 1960s was located in the former Stock Exchange a basketball training hall, the entire building appeared neglected.

1971 dealt the President of the Federal Monuments Office, Walter Frodl, with the severely war damaged banking and stock exchange building in Vienna. The Office for Technical Geology of Otto Casensky furnished an opinion on the stone facade. On the facade Freyung 2 a balcony was originally attached over the entire 15.4 m long front of hard Kaiserstein.

(Usage of Leitha lime: Dependent from the consistence and structure of the Leitha lime the usage differed from „Reibsand“ till building material. The Leitha lime stone is a natural stone which can be formed easily and was desired als beautiful stone for buildings in Roman times. The usage of lime stone from Eggenburg in the Bronze age already was verified. This special attribute is the reason why the Leitha lime was taken from sculptors and masons.

The source of lime stone in the Leitha Mountains was important for Austria and especially for Vienna from the cultur historical point of view during the Renaissance and Baroque. At the 19th century the up to 150 stone quarries of the Leitha mountains got many orders form the construction work of the Vienna „Ring road“.

At many buildings of Graz, such as the castle at the Grazer castle hill, the old Joanneum and the Cottage, the Leitha lime stone was used.

Due to the fact that Leitha lime is bond on carbonate in the texture, the alteration through the actual sour rain is heavy. www.geocaching.com/geocache/GC2HKZ9_leithagebirge-leithak...)

This balcony was no longer present and only close to the facade were remnants of the tread plates and the supporting brackets recognizable. In July 1975, followed the reconstruction of the balcony and master stonemason Friedrich Opferkuh received the order to restore the old state am Leithagebirge received the order the old state - of Mannersdorfer stone, armoured concrete or artificial stone.

1975-1982, the building was renovated and re-opened the Café Central. Since then, the privately owned building is called Palais Ferstel. In the former stock exchange halls now meetings and presentations take place; the Café Central is utilizing one of the courtyards.

de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palais_Ferstel

The American Standard Building, formerly known as the American Radiator Building stands at 103 meters tall just south of Bryant Park. The 23-floor Art-Deco tower was designed Raymond Hood and John Howells from 1923-1924 for the American Radiator and Standard Sanitary Company.

 

The design broke from the Beaux Arts/classicism styles of the time, utilizing bold cubic massing that allowed verticality in light of the zoning laws of 1916 dictating setbacks for buildings above a certain height. The tower rises up fifteen stories before it begins a series of setbacks, creating a striking silhouette.

 

The most striking feature of Hood's design is the unusual black and gold color scheme--which served both practical and symbolic purposes. Although Hood denied the later, the building is especially dramatic when floodlighted at night, like a giant glowing coal--in effect, becoming an advertisement for the American Radiator Company. The black brickwork facing, said to symbolize coal, was selected to lessen the visual contrast between the walls and windows, giving the tower an effect of solidity and massiveness. The Gothic-style pinnacles and the terra-cotta friezes on the edges of the setbacks are coated with gold, symbolizing fire and flame.

 

The base is clad in bronze plating and black granite. The large plate glass windows of the ground floor showrooms are enframed by slender, bronze, ribbed shafts reminiscent of the Gothic style, but terminating in cubistic pinnacles. The windows are surmounted by a slender continuous modillioned bronze enframement. The main entrance, between the windows, is set within an arched opening and accented by bronze details of modified Gothic design. The second floor is surmounted by a modillioned cornice set on large intricate corbel blocks, displaying a series of carved allegories by Rene Paul Chambellan, symbolizing the transformation of matter into energy. The third story has a distinctive window bay treatment, flanked by indented brick pilasters surmounted by gold pinnacles and shielded by intricately detailed railings.

 

In 1998, the building was sold in Philip Pilevsky for $15 million. Three years afterwards, the American Radiator Building was converted into The Bryant Park Hotel with 130 rooms and a theater in basement.

 

The American Standard Building was designated a landmark by the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission in 1974.

 

National Register #70002663

En 1817, durante el periodo de independencia de Chile de la Monarquía española, el Ejército de Los Andes, liderado por el militar José de San Martín y contando con la colaboración del militar chileno Bernardo O’Higgins, declara en Mendoza a la Virgen del Carmen como patrona y protectora de la liberación de América. Asimismo, el 11 de febrero, anterior a la batalla de Chacabuco, O’Higgins la nombró como patrona y generalísima de las Armas de Chile.

 

El 14 de marzo de 1818, en una misa realizada en la Catedral de Santiago, en la cual asistieron los militares Bernardo O’Higgins y José de San Martín, acompañados del clérigo, monseñor José Ignacio Cienfuegos. En esta, se ratifica el juramento realizado en Mendoza, mencionando también la construcción del templo en honor a la Virgen del Carmen.

 

La victoria ocurrió durante la Batalla de Maipú, hito histórico que aseguró la independencia de Chile2​. El 7 de mayo de 1818, Bernardo O'Higgins, en su cargo de Director Supremo de la Nación, decreta la construcción del templo, dejando a cargo a Juan Agustín Alcalde y a Agustín de Eyzaguirre5​para su ejecución. Sin embargo, no es hasta 1821 que O'Higgins ordena a enajenar los terrenos en el cuál se contemplaba destinar parte de estos en la construcción de la parroquia.

 

Es así como el 15 de noviembre de 1818, comienza la construcción de la iglesia que cumpliría el voto a la Virgen del Carmen. La primera piedra se colocó durante una ceremonia a la que asistió Bernardo O’Higgins, acompañado del militar José de San Martín.

 

Desde 1818, el avance de la construcción de la capilla se postergaba cada vez más. A esto se le sumó la abdicación de Bernardo O’Higgins en su mandato como Director Supremo en el año 1823,3​2​ lo cual terminó por paralizar las obras y convirtió el espacio destinado a la iglesia, en pesebreras para el ganado.

 

No fue hasta el gobierno de Domingo Santa María, en 1885 que se destinaron esfuerzos para la culminación de la obra que ya llevaba más de 66 años inconclusa. Es así como en 1895 pudo ser inaugurada y bendecida durante el mandato del presidente Jorge Montt.

 

En 1942, durante el Congreso Mariano que ocurrió en Santiago, se decretó la construcción de un nuevo templo que reemplazaría a la Capilla de la Victoria de Maipú. Ya en 1948, el Arzobispo José María Caro, ordenó la iniciación de la nueva obra que más adelante se convertiría en el actual Templo Votivo de Maipú.

 

La capilla se trataba de una construcción de arquitectura de estilo románico y neoclásico; contemplaba también un campanario y una torre de reloj.​ En el exterior de la iglesia se conserva una estatua que representa al Cristo peregrino, acompañada de una placa con los versos del poeta Felix Lope de Vega.

 

El terremoto de 1906, provocó daños críticos en la estructura de la capilla, a eso se sumó un posterior temblor en el año 1927 que provocó un derrumbe parcial en el campanario, teniendo que ser reemplazado por uno de madera. Se mantuvo su estructura hasta 1974, año en la que fue demolida, conservando sus muros laterales por su importancia histórica en el proceso de independencia de Chile.​ En la actualidad, los muros pueden ser observados frente al Templo Votivo de Maipú, sin acceso al interior de ella debido a la poca solidez de su construcción.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In 1817, during the period of independence of Chile from the Spanish Monarchy, the Army of the Andes, led by the soldier José de San Martín and with the collaboration of the Chilean soldier Bernardo O'Higgins, declared the Virgen del Carmen in Mendoza as patroness and protector of the liberation of America. Likewise, on February 11, before the battle of Chacabuco, O'Higgins named her as patron saint and generalissima of the Arms of Chile.

 

On March 14, 1818, at a mass held in the Cathedral of Santiago, attended by the soldiers Bernardo O'Higgins and José de San Martín, accompanied by the clergyman, Monsignor José Ignacio Cienfuegos. In this, the oath made in Mendoza is ratified, also mentioning the construction of the temple in honor of the Virgen del Carmen.

 

The victory occurred during the Battle of Maipú, a historical milestone that ensured the independence of Chile2. On May 7, 1818, Bernardo O'Higgins, in his position as Supreme Director of the Nation, decreed the construction of the temple, leaving Juan Agustín Alcalde and Agustín de Eyzaguirre5 in charge of its execution. However, it was not until 1821 that O'Higgins ordered the alienation of the land, in which it was contemplated to allocate part of it to the construction of the parish.

 

This is how on November 15, 1818, the construction of the church that would fulfill the vow to the Virgen del Carmen began. The first stone was laid during a ceremony attended by Bernardo O'Higgins, accompanied by military officer José de San Martín.

 

From 1818, the progress of the construction of the chapel was postponed more and more. To this was added the abdication of Bernardo O'Higgins in his mandate as Supreme Director in the year 1823,3​2​ which ended up paralyzing the works and converted the space destined for the church into mangers for cattle.

 

It was not until the government of Domingo Santa María, in 1885, that efforts were made to complete the work that had already been unfinished for more than 66 years. This is how in 1895 it could be inaugurated and blessed during the mandate of President Jorge Montt.

 

In 1942, during the Marian Congress that took place in Santiago, the construction of a new temple was decreed to replace the Maipú Victory Chapel. Already in 1948, Archbishop José María Caro ordered the initiation of the new work that would later become the current Maipú Votive Temple.

 

The chapel was a construction of Romanesque and neoclassical style architecture; It also contemplated a bell tower and a clock tower. Outside the church there is a statue that represents the pilgrim Christ, accompanied by a plaque with the verses of the poet Felix Lope de Vega.

 

The 1906 earthquake caused critical damage to the structure of the chapel, to which was added a subsequent tremor in 1927 that caused a partial collapse of the bell tower, having to be replaced by a wooden one. Its structure was maintained until 1974, the year in which it was demolished, preserving its side walls due to its historical importance in the Chilean independence process. Currently, the walls can be seen in front of the Votive Temple of Maipú, without access to the inside of it due to the lack of solidity of its construction.

Collection Peggy Guggenheim

 

[Bibliography]

 

Peggy Guggenheim's career belongs in the history of 20th century art. Peggy used to say that it was her duty to protect the art of her own time, and she dedicated half of her life to this mission, as well as to the creation of the museum that still carries her name.

 

Peggy Guggenheim was born in New York on 26 August 1898, the daughter of Benjamin Guggenheim and Florette Seligman. Benjamin Guggenheim was one of seven brothers who, with their father, Meyer (of Swiss origin), created a family fortune in the late 19th century from the mining and smelting of metals, especially silver, copper and lead. The Seligmans were a leading banking family. Peggy grew up in New York. In April 1912 her father died heroically on the SS Titanic. (1)

 

In her early 20s, Peggy volunteered for work at a bookshop, the Sunwise Turn, in New York and thanks to this began making friends in intellectual and artistic circles, including the man who was to become her first husband in Paris in 1922, Laurence Vail. Vail was a writer and Dada collagist of great talent. He chronicled his tempestuous life with Peggy in a novel, Murder! Murder! of which Peggy wrote: "It was a sort of satire of our life together and, although it was extremely funny, I took offense at several things he said about me."

 

In 1921 Peggy Guggenheim traveled to Europe. Thanks to Laurence Vail (the father of her two children Sindbad and Pegeen, the painter), Peggy soon found herself at the heart of Parisian bohème and American ex-patriate society. Many of her acquaintances of the time, such as Constantin Brancusi, Djuna Barnes and Marcel Duchamp, were to become lifelong friends. Though she remained on good terms with Vail for the rest of his life, she left him in 1928 for an English intellectual, John Holms, who was the greatest love of her life. There is a lengthy description of John Holms, a war hero with writer's block, in chapter five of Edwin Muir's An Autobiography. Muir wrote: "Holms was the most remarkable man I ever met." Unfortunately, Holms died tragically young in 1934.

 

In 1937, encouraged by her friend Peggy Waldman, Peggy decided to open an art gallery in London. When she opened her Guggenheim Jeune gallery in January 1938, she was beginning, at 39 years old, a career which would significantly affect the course of post-war art. Her friend Samuel Beckett urged her to dedicate herself to contemporary art as it was “a living thing,” and Marcel Duchamp introduced her to the artists and taught her, as she put it, “the difference between abstract and Surrealist art.” The first show presented works by Jean Cocteau, while the second was the first one-man show of Vasily Kandinsky in England.

 

In 1939, tired of her gallery, Peggy conceived “the idea of opening a modern museum in London,” with her friend Herbert Read as its director (2). From the start the museum was to be formed on historical principles, and a list of all the artists that should be represented, drawn up by Read and later revised by Marcel Duchamp and Nellie van Doesburg, was to become the basis of her collection.

 

In 1939-40, apparently oblivious of the war, Peggy busily acquired works for the future museum, keeping to her resolve to “buy a picture a day.” Some of the masterpieces of her collection, such as works by Francis Picabia, Georges Braque, Salvador Dalí and Piet Mondrian, were bought at that time. She astonished Fernand Léger by buying his Men in the City on the day that Hitler invaded Norway. She acquired Brancusi’s Bird in Space as the Germans approached Paris, and only then decided to flee the city.

 

In July 1941, Peggy fled Nazi-occupied France and returned to her native New York, together with Max Ernst, who was to become her second husband a few months later (they separated in 1943).

 

Peggy immediately began looking for a location for her modern art museum, while she continued to acquire works for her collection. In October 1942 she opened her museum/gallery Art of This Century. Designed by the Rumanian-Austrian architect Frederick Kiesler, the gallery was composed of extraordinarily innovative exhibition rooms and soon became the most stimulating venue for contemporary art in New York City. (3)

 

Of the opening night, she wrote: “I wore one of my Tanguy earrings and one made by Calder in order to show my impartiality between Surrealist and Abstract Art" (4). There Peggy exhibited her collection of Cubist, abstract and Surrealist art, which was already substantially that which we see today in Venice. Peggy produced a remarkable catalogue, edited by André Breton, with a cover design by Max Ernst. She held temporary exhibitions of leading European artists, and of several then unknown young Americans such as Robert Motherwell, William Baziotes, Mark Rothko, David Hare, Janet Sobel, Robert de Niro Sr, Clyfford Still, and Jackson Pollock, the ‘star’ of the gallery, who was given his first show by Peggy late in 1943. From July 1943 Peggy supported Pollock with a monthly stipend and actively promoted and sold his paintings. She commissioned his largest painting, a Mural, which she later gave to the University of Iowa.

 

Pollock and the others pioneered American Abstract Expressionism. One of the principal sources of this was Surrealism, which the artists encountered at Art of This Century. More important, however, was the encouragement and support that Peggy, together with her friend and assistant Howard Putzel, gave to the members of this nascent New York avant-garde. Peggy and her collection thus played a vital intermediary role in the development of America’s first art movement of international importance.

 

In 1947 Peggy decided to return in Europe, where her collection was shown for the first time at the 1948 Venice Biennale, in the Greek pavilion (5). In this way the works of artists such as Arshile Gorky, Jackson Pollock, and Mark Rothko were exhibited for the first time in Europe. The presence of Cubist, abstract, and Surrealist art made the pavilion the most coherent survey of Modernism yet to have been presented in Italy.

 

Soon after Peggy bought Palazzo Venier dei Leoni, on the Grand Canal in Venice, where she came to live. In 1949 she held an exhibition of sculptures in the garden (6) curated by Giuseppe Marchiori, and from 1951 she opened her collection to the public.

 

In 1950 Peggy organized the first exhibition of Jackson Pollock in Italy, in the Ala Napoleonica of the Museo Correr in Venice. Her collection was in the meantime exhibited in Florence and Milan, and later in Amsterdam, Brussels, and Zurich. From 1951 Peggy opened her house and her collection to the public annually in the summer months. During her 30-year Venetian life, Peggy Guggenheim continued to collect works of art and to support artists, such as Edmondo Bacci and Tancredi Parmeggiani, whom she met in 1951. In 1962 Peggy Guggenheim was nominated Honorary Citizen of Venice.

 

In 1969 the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York invited Peggy Guggenheim to show her collection there. In 1976 she donated her palace and works of art to the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation. The Foundation had been created in 1937 by Peggy Guggenheim’s uncle Solomon, in order to operate his collection and museum which, since 1959, has been housed in Frank Lloyd Wright’s famous spiral structure on 5th Avenue.

 

Peggy died aged 81 on 23 December 1979. Her ashes are placed in a corner of the garden of Palazzo Venier dei Leoni, next to the place where she customarily buried her beloved dogs. Since this time, the Guggenheim Foundation has converted and expanded Peggy Guggenheim's private house into one of the finest small museums of modern art in the world.

  

[Info]

 

Address

Peggy Guggenheim Collection

Palazzo Venier dei Leoni

Dorsoduro 701

I-30123 Venezia

 

Opening hours

Daily 10 am - 6 pm

Closed Tuesdays and December 25

 

General information

tel: +39.041.2405.411

fax: +39.041.520.6885

e-mail: info@guggenheim-venice.it

 

Visitor services

tel: +39.041.2405.440/419

fax: +39.041.520.9083

e-mail: visitorinfo@guggenheim-venice.it

 

Photography

Photography is permitted without flash. You may not use tripods or monopods.

 

Animals

Animals of all sizes are not allowed in the galleries and in the gardens.

For information and assistance please contact "Sporting Dog Club".

Call Tel. +39 347 6242550 (Marie) or +39 347 4161321 (Roberto)

or write to sportingdoginvenice@gmail.com

 

Venice Art for All

The Peggy Guggenheim Collection joins the Venice Art for All project and becomes accessible to all, including people with limited mobility.

Palazzo Venier dei Leoni was probably begun in the 1750s by architect Lorenzo Boschetti, whose only other known building in Venice is the church of San Barnaba.

 

It is an unfinished palace. A model exists in the Museo Correr, Venice (1). Its magnificent classical façade would have matched that of Palazzo Corner, opposite, with the triple arch of the ground floor (which is the explanation of the ivy-covered pillars visible today) extended through both the piani nobili above. We do not know precisely why this Venier palace was left unfinished. Money may have run out, or some say that the powerful Corner family living opposite blocked the completion of a building that would have been grander than their own. Another explanation may rest with the unhappy fate of the next door Gothic palace which was demolished in the early 19th century: structural damage to this was blamed in part on the deep foundations of Palazzo Venier dei Leoni.

 

Nor is it known how the palace came to be associated with "leoni," lions. Although it is said that a lion was once kept in the garden, the name is more likely to have arisen from the yawning lion's heads of Istrian stone which decorate the façade at water level (2). The Venier family, who claimed descent from the gens Aurelia of ancient Rome (the Emperor Valerian and Gallienus were from this family), were among the oldest Venetian noble families. Over the centuries they provided eighteen Procurators of St Mark’s and three Doges. Antonio Venier (Doge, 1382-1400) had such a strong sense of justice that he allowed his own son to languish and die in prison for his crimes. Francesco Venier (Doge, 1553-56) was the subject of a superb portrait by Titian (Madrid, Fundaciòn Thyssen-Bornemisza). Sebastiano Venier was a commander of the Venetian fleet at the Battle of Lepanto (1571) and later became Doge (1577-78). A lively strutting statue of him, by Antonio dal Zotto (1907), can be seen today in the church of Ss. Giovanni e Paolo, Venice.

 

From 1910 to c. 1924 the house was owned by the flamboyant Marchesa Luisa Casati, hostess to the Ballets Russes, and the subject of numerous portraits by artists as various as Boldini, Troubetzkoy, Man Ray and Augustus John. In 1949, Peggy Guggenheim purchased Palazzo Venier from the heirs of Viscountes Castlerosse and made it her home for the following thirty years. Early in 1951, Peggy Guggenheim opened her home and collection to the public and continued to do so every year until her death in 1979. (3) (4)

 

In 1980, the Peggy Guggenheim Collection opened for the first time under the management of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, to which Peggy Guggenheim had given her palazzo and collection during her lifetime.

Palazzo Venier dei Leoni's long low façade, made of Istrian stone and set off against the trees in the garden behind that soften its lines, forms a welcome "caesura" in the stately march of Grand Canal palaces from the Accademia to the Salute.

  

[Permanent collection]

The core mission of the museum is to present the personal collection of Peggy Guggenheim. The collection holds major works of Cubism, Futurism, Metaphysical painting, European abstraction, avant-garde sculpture, Surrealism, and American Abstract Expressionism, by some of the greatest artists of the 20th century. These include Picasso (The Poet, On the Beach), Braque (The Clarinet), Duchamp (Sad Young Man on a Train), Léger, Brancusi (Maiastra, Bird in Space), Severini (Sea=Dancer), Picabia (Very Rare Picture on Earth), de Chirico (The Red Tower, The Nostalgia of the Poet), Mondrian (Composition No. 1 with Grey and Red 1938 / Composition with Red 1939), Kandinsky (Landscape with Red Spots, No. 2, White Cross), Miró (Seated Woman II), Giacometti Woman with Her Throat Cut, Woman Walking), Klee (Magic Garden), Ernst (The Kiss, Attirement of the Bride), Magritte (Empire of Light), Dalí (Birth of Liquid Desires), Pollock (The Moon Woman, Alchemy), Gorky (Untitled), Calder (Arc of Petals) and Marini (Angel of the City).

 

The museum also exhibits works of art given to the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation for its Venetian museum since Peggy Guggenheim's death, as well as long-term loans from private collections.

 

Hannelore B. and Rudolph B. Schulhof Collection

In October 2012 eighty works of Italian, European and American art of the decades after 1945 were added to the collections of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation in Venice. They were the bequest of Hannelore B. Schulhof, who collected the works with her late husband Rudolph B. Schulhof. They include paintings by Burri, Dubuffet, Fontana, Hofmann, Kelly, Kiefer, Noland, Rothko, and Twombly, as well as sculptures by Calder, Caro, Holzer, Judd and Hepworth. The Hannelore B. and Rudolph B. Schulhof Garden exhibits works from this collection.

 

Gianni Mattioli Collection

The museum exhibits twenty six masterpieces on long-term loan from the renowned Gianni Mattioli Collection, including famous images of Italian Futurism, such as Materia and Dynamism of a Cyclist by Boccioni, Interventionist Demonstration by Carrà, The Solidity of Fog by Russolo, works by Balla, Severini (Blue Dancer), Sironi, Soffici, Rosai, Depero. The collection includes important early paintings by Morandi and a rare portrait by Modigliani.

 

Patsy R. and Raymond D. Nasher Sculpture Garden

The Patsy R. and Raymond D. Nasher Sculpture Garden and other outdoor spaces at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection presents works from the permanent collections (by Arp, Duchamp-Villon, Ernst, Flanagan, Giacometti, Gilardi, Goldsworthy, Holzer, Marini, Minguzzi, Mirko, Merz, Moore, Ono, Paladino, Richier, Takis), as well as sculptures on temporary loan from foundations and private collections (by Calder, König , Marini, Nannucci, Smith).

In one sentence, Mark Twain, the renowned Indophile, has extolled the greatness of Varanasi thus: "Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together.

 

In Sanskrit, the word arti – written as aarati – is composed of the prefix aa, meaning complete, and rati, meaning love. The arti is thus an expression of one’s complete and unflinching love towards God. It is sung and performed with a deep sense of reverence, adoration, and meditative awareness. Aarti is said to have descended from the Vedic concept of fire rituals, or homa. In the traditional aarti ceremony, the flower represents the earth (solidity), the water and accompanying handkerchief correspond with the water element (liquidity), the lamp or candle represents the fire component (heat), the peacock fan conveys the precious quality of air (movement), and the yak-tail fan represents the subtle form of ether (space). The incense represents a purified state of mind, and one’s "intelligence" is offered through the adherence to rules of timing and order of offerings. Thus, one’s entire existence and all facets of material creation are symbolically offered to the Lord via the aarti ceremony. The word may also refer to the traditional Hindu devotional song that is sung during the ritual.

  

~~Wikipedia

THE STATUE WAS COMMISSIONED AS A TRIBUTE TO THE BRAVERY OF THOSE WHO WORKED IN THE GREAT LAXEY MINES HAS BEEN UNVEILED IN THE ISLE OF MAN.

THE ONE-TONNE STONE STRUCTURE, WHICH HAS BEEN ERECTED ON A PLINTH IN THE HEART OF LAXEY, WAS MADE IN BALI BY SCULPTOR ONGKY WIJANA.

CO-ORDINATOR IVOR HANKINSON SAID THE STATUE IS DEDICATED TO THE MINERS WHO WORKED IN VERY DIFFICULT CONDITIONS.

THE GREAT LAXEY MINE EMPLOYED MORE THAN 600 MINERS BETWEEN 1825 AND 1929.

AT ITS PEAK, IT PRODUCED A FIFTH OF ZINC EXTRACTED IN THE UK.

MR HANKINSON ADDED: "THEY WERE AN EXTREMELY HARDY MEN, VERY TOUGH INDEED AND THE SCULPTOR HAS MANAGED TO CONVEY THAT IN HIS WORK VERY EFFECTIVELY.

"WE HAVE ALSO HAD A PLAQUE MADE IN MEMORY OF THOSE WHO LOST THEIR LIVES DOWN THE MINES".

ABOUT 30 MEN WERE KILLED IN MINING ACCIDENTS BETWEEN THE YEARS OF 1831 AND 1912.

SOME DROWNED, SOME WERE CRUSHED IN ROCK FALLS AND OTHERS DIED IN DYNAMITE EXPLOSIONS.

"THE WORKING CONDITIONS WERE INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT," SAID MR HANKINSON.

"SOME OF THE MEN HAD TO WALK MILES TO GET TO WORK IN THE FIRST PLACE. ONCE THERE, THEY HAD A TWO-HOUR JOURNEY ON LADDERS DOWN INTO THE MINES - SOME OF THE SHAFTS WERE A THIRD OF A MILE DEEP."

SCULPTOR ONKY WIJANA SAID HE WANTED TO CAPTURE THE STRENGTH AND DETERMINATION OF THE LAXEY MINERS

THE STATUE, CARVED FROM A FIVE-TONE BLOCK OF CARLOW BLUE LIMESTONE, TOOK MR WIJANA 10 MONTHS TO COMPLETE IN HIS STUDIO IN BANJAR SILAKARANG, INDONESIA.

"THESE GUYS WERE TOUGH BUT OFTEN LOOKED WEATHER-BEATEN, SUNKEN-CHEEKED AND WORN OUT," SAID MR WIJANA.

"HOWEVER, THEY ALSO HAD A SOLIDITY TO THEM AND ALWAYS A DETERMINATION IN THEIR EYES THAT I WANTED TO CAPTURE."

ONCE ERECTED ON ITS PLINTH, THE STONE MINER STATUE STANDS 13FT (4M) HIGH.

 

UNO SGUARDO SUI COLLI DEL PROSECCO

  

Nel 2019, dopo un iter iniziato nel 2008, il sito “Le Colline del Prosecco di Conegliano e Valdobbiadene” è stato iscritto nella Lista del Patrimonio Mondiale come paesaggio culturale, dove l’opera dei viticoltori ha contribuito a creare uno scenario unico.

Quest’area è caratterizzata da una particolare conformazione geomorfologica, denominata hogback, costituita da una serie di rilievi irti e scoscesi allungati in direzione est-ovest e intervallati da piccole valli parallele tra loro. In questo ambiente difficile, l’uomo ha saputo adattarsi nei secoli, modellando le ripide pendenze e perfezionando la propria tecnica agricola. Espressione di questa capacita adattiva è il ciglione, una particolare tipologia di terrazzamento, che utilizza la terra inerbita al posto della pietra e che viene preferita ad altre sistemazioni poiché contribuisce alla solidità dei versanti e riduce l’erosione del suolo.

 

Note tratte dal sito:

www.visitconegliano.it/le-colline-unesco-e-il-territorio/...

-------------------------------------------------------

  

A LOOK AT THE PROSECCO HILLS

  

In 2019, after a process that began in 2008, the site "The Hills of Prosecco of Conegliano and Valdobbiadene" was inscribed in the World Heritage List as a cultural landscape, where the work of the winemakers contributed to creating a unique scenario.

This area is characterized by a particular geomorphological conformation, called hogback, made up of a series of rugged and steep reliefs stretched in an east-west direction and interspersed with small valleys parallel to each other. In this difficult environment, man has been able to adapt over the centuries, shaping the steep slopes and perfecting his agricultural technique. An expression of this adaptive capacity is the ciglione, a particular type of terrace, which uses grassy earth instead of stone and which is preferred to other arrangements as it contributes to the solidity of the slopes and reduces soil erosion.

  

CANON EOS 600D con ob. SIGMA 10-20 f./4-5,6 EX DC HSM

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

Meet Miss J , an educated and refined piece of art.

 

I pulled a rookie move and left my flash triggers behind forcing me to use my speedlite on the camera. tried my best to bounce flash off of my reflector camera left to simulate the off camera effect.... Not perfect but better than nothing... very pleased with the final result

 

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

River Dargle Flood Defence Scheme.

These images were taken during the third week of November 2016.

 

These are the critical stabilisation works at the Silverbridge site, adjacent to the N11 dual-carriageway:

 

Back in November 2014, we observed bank stabilisation works here involving excavation, repair and building of a support wall structure -- carried out by JONS Construction on behalf of the National Roads Authority.

 

We would occasionally catch sight of this work in the distance. Quite an impressive little piece of structural engineering.

Having built a retaining concave wall, backfilled for solidity, they were also drilling, fixing and sealing ground anchors to pin the entire structure together.

 

flic.kr/p/paSU8U

 

Now we see that further works are being undertaken.

Word has it that extra ‘stabilisation work’ has to be done to protect the integrity of the riverbank. At the section here we can see that there’s not much space between the edge of the rock face and the Armco at the side of the dual-carriageway.

Have yet to determine what precisely that will entail. Serious work to reinforce the side access ramp down to the river.

 

The N11 carriageway runs adjacent to this sunken side of the riverbank -- barely 2 (large) paces divide the two. Even with twin strips of Armco along the roadside, it's perilously close. Traffic speeds along this stretch (maximum speed 100 kmp). Only needs a touch from a heavy vehicle to cause secondary impact, which (worst possible scenario) could result in something going airborne.

 

Working in these confined spaces puts a premium of safety and communication.

 

The guys have hard-filled a working shelf on the riverbed, to allow machinery access to the rockface. Obviously some serious drilling is called for before a form of extra 'pinning' is put in place.

They have sunk a series of hollowed tubes/casings -- obviously to form the foundations of a more extensive structure.

And some investigative work around the transverse buttress of the access bridge, parallel to the heavy-duty pipeline carrying water down from the Vartry reservoir.

 

At a (rough) guess -- I'd say the foundations were sunk to a depth of approx 4+m.

With such secure foundations in place, they would then look to construct a substantial bank of material, and/or retaining wall (similar to that in place further along the roadside bank).

 

=================================================

 

Previously the guys drilled and sunk 4+metre deep reinforced tubing and rods along a newly laid concrete base. Those stubs are now being used to attach steel rod cradles -- which, in turn, I believe will be filled with poured concrete. Variation on the method they've used elsewhere along this stretch of the river.

 

At this time of year, it's not a particularly nice place to be working in. The low, late sun never swings around sufficiently to light+warm this stretch. The day we were there, the air was barely above freezing point -- so, gotta be bloody cold down in that recess. No type of construction gear, or footwear, is going to keep the cold from seeping into your bones.

And, on a related point, it is a particularly tough spot for the inhabitants of the 3 traveller community dwellings adjacent to this work. Blood cold, and eternally damp.

River Dargle Flood Defence Scheme.

These images were taken during the third week of November 2016.

 

These are the critical stabilisation works at the Silverbridge site, adjacent to the N11 dual-carriageway:

 

Back in November 2014, we observed bank stabilisation works here involving excavation, repair and building of a support wall structure -- carried out by JONS Construction on behalf of the National Roads Authority.

 

We would occasionally catch sight of this work in the distance. Quite an impressive little piece of structural engineering.

Having built a retaining concave wall, backfilled for solidity, they were also drilling, fixing and sealing ground anchors to pin the entire structure together.

 

flic.kr/p/paSU8U

 

Now we see that further works are being undertaken.

Word has it that extra ‘stabilisation work’ has to be done to protect the integrity of the riverbank. At the section here we can see that there’s not much space between the edge of the rock face and the Armco at the side of the dual-carriageway.

Have yet to determine what precisely that will entail. Serious work to reinforce the side access ramp down to the river.

 

The N11 carriageway runs adjacent to this sunken side of the riverbank -- barely 2 (large) paces divide the two. Even with twin strips of Armco along the roadside, it's perilously close. Traffic speeds along this stretch (maximum speed 100 kmp). Only needs a touch from a heavy vehicle to cause secondary impact, which (worst possible scenario) could result in something going airborne.

 

Working in these confined spaces puts a premium of safety and communication.

 

The guys have hard-filled a working shelf on the riverbed, to allow machinery access to the rockface. Obviously some serious drilling is called for before a form of extra 'pinning' is put in place.

They have sunk a series of hollowed tubes/casings -- obviously to form the foundations of a more extensive structure.

And some investigative work around the transverse buttress of the access bridge, parallel to the heavy-duty pipeline carrying water down from the Vartry reservoir.

 

This was the day when they started to fill those sunken tubes/casings with liquid cement. At a (rough) guess -- I'd say the foundations are sunk to a depth of approx 4+m.

With such secure foundations in place, they would then look to construct a substantial bank of material, and/or retaining wall (similar to that in place further along the roadside bank).

 

As ever, the first attempt at a process brings it's own unique set of issues.

The tight confines of the riverbed obliges the use of a concrete pumping rig with long-boom capacity.

Would you call this a '4 section' unit'? Built on a 4-axle chassis, I'd suggest that it's reach is approx 40+m.

 

The remotely-controlled unit siphons and pumps liquid concrete into the sunken wells. Immediately the guys agitate the mixture to remove any air pockets. Final step is to lower in a pre-formed steel skeleton brace, intended to reinforce the foundation.

 

While we were there, the guys struggled to sink the steel frame into the sunken sleeve. I can't believe it was a problem with alignment -- other similar frames dropped neatly into their appointed sleeve.

Perhaps simply a case that the compressed liquid solution was just inflexible enough to receive the steel skeleton. We left.

 

Will find out later what the outcome was.

 

The first forms the centrepiece to the entrance hall, where a bespoke oak and glass staircase rises effortlessly from an expanse of marble.

 

The open tread and the glass balustrades ensure that it does not overpower the surrounding space, which is uncluttered and minimalist. The straight flights reflect the clean modern lines of this house, whilst the burnished stainless steel fittings, incorporated as part of the design, enhance the contemporary appearance. The clever construction defies the solidity of the structure, the flying half-landings encased in glass almost appear to float.

 

Two other Kevala staircases are fitted in this property. A stair from the first floor to the second floor also using an open oak tread and glass balustrade design to maximise the expression of space. With a third staircase connecting the house to the space over the garage. Here, the dramatic lines of the straight stair are modified to allow an elegant twist, to complement the more intimate space. These stairs of lacquered pine are more functional, but the same attention to detail and quality of materials is evident.

  

90 Degrees South

 

Håkon Anton Fagerås (1975 - )

 

Unveiled 14 December 2011, on the centennial of this team's arrival at the South Pole.

 

Location: Outside the Fram Museum, Bygdøy, Oslo, facing the Oslofjord

 

Medium: Bronze figures on granite base

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This striking sculptural group outside the Norwegian Maritime Museum honors the five members of Roald Amundsen’s legendary 1910–1912 South Pole expedition—the first team in history to reach the geographic South Pole. They arrived there on 14 December 1911.

 

Their names are etched into the stone base from left to right: Olav Bjaaland, Oscar Wisting, Roald Amundsen, Sverre Hassel, and Helmer Hanssen.

 

Amundsen’s party achieved one of the most iconic feats in exploration history, beating British explorer Robert Falcon Scott’s Terra Nova Expedition by over a month and returning safely—a triumph of planning, polar technique, and endurance.

 

These five men are immortalized here not only for their scientific and geographic achievement, but for embodying the spirit of teamwork and survival in one of the planet’s most unforgiving environments.

 

Biographies:

 

1. Olav Bjaaland (1873–1961)

A champion skier and expert carpenter from Telemark, Norway. Bjaaland was instrumental in modifying the expedition’s sledges to reduce their weight by over 100 kilograms, contributing significantly to the group's efficiency on the ice. He skied ahead to guide the others, using his exceptional navigation skills.

 

2. Oscar Wisting (1871–1936)

A naval officer and mechanic who participated in both the South Pole expedition and later the 1926 Norge airship expedition to the North Pole—making him one of the first two people (alongside Amundsen) to reach both geographic poles. Wisting was in charge of sledges and dogs.

 

3. Roald Amundsen (1872–1928)

The leader of the expedition and one of the most accomplished explorers in history. Originally intending to conquer the North Pole, Amundsen changed plans upon hearing of Peary’s claim and turned south instead. His strategic use of sled dogs, Inuit-inspired gear, and polar experience ensured his team's success and safe return.

 

4. Sverre Hassel (1876–1928)

A seasoned polar traveler and inspector in the Norwegian police force. Hassel had previously served on Otto Sverdrup’s Fram expedition (1898–1902) and played a vital role in Amundsen’s logistics and navigation strategy. His strength and discipline were key to the team’s cohesion.

 

5. Helmer Hanssen (1870–1956)

An experienced seaman and ice pilot, Hanssen had traveled with Amundsen on earlier Arctic expeditions, including the Gjøa voyage through the Northwest Passage. He was an expert dog driver and helped lead the advance party that scouted the route toward the Pole.

 

Together, these men represent not just a pinnacle of Norwegian exploration, but a defining chapter in global exploration history. The statues, standing resolute in their polar gear, face toward the museum as if still bearing the cold silence of the Antarctic winds.

 

About the Artist:

 

Håkon Anton Fagerås is a Norwegian sculptor working in a largely figurative tradition, notable for his sensitive treatment of materials (especially marble) and his ability to imbue classical forms with contemporary presence.

 

He was born in Drøbak, Norway, and spent part of his youth in Bø, Telemark.

 

From 1995 to 1996, he apprenticed under the painter Jan Valentin Sæther.

 

He then studied at the Norwegian National Academy of Craft and Art Industry (1996–97) and the Norwegian National Academy of Fine Arts

 

Since 1999, he has been based (at least in part) in Pietrasanta, Italy, working in stone workshops and forging ties with Italy’s marble‑sculpture tradition.

 

His oeuvre includes public monuments, portrait busts, and more experimental works. He has designed several coin faces for Norges Bank (Norway’s central bank), among other commissions.

 

One of his major public works is the “90 grader syd” monument (unveiled in December 2011) commemorating Roald Amundsen’s journey to the South Pole.

 

Aside from large works, he is known for a more poetic series called “Down”, in which he sculpts marble cushions (pillows) rendered with extreme realism — the marble is carved to look like soft, wrinkled fabric.

 

His work is regarded as balancing classical technique and emotional immediacy. He often works with contrast: the solidity of marble or bronze versus the suggestion of fragile flesh, cloth, or gesture.

 

This text is a collaboration with Chat GPT.

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

THE STATUE WAS COMMISSIONED AS A TRIBUTE TO THE BRAVERY OF THOSE WHO WORKED IN THE GREAT LAXEY MINES HAS BEEN UNVEILED IN THE ISLE OF MAN.

THE ONE-TONNE STONE STRUCTURE, WHICH HAS BEEN ERECTED ON A PLINTH IN THE HEART OF LAXEY, WAS MADE IN BALI BY SCULPTOR ONGKY WIJANA.

CO-ORDINATOR IVOR HANKINSON SAID THE STATUE IS DEDICATED TO THE MINERS WHO WORKED IN VERY DIFFICULT CONDITIONS.

THE GREAT LAXEY MINE EMPLOYED MORE THAN 600 MINERS BETWEEN 1825 AND 1929.

AT ITS PEAK, IT PRODUCED A FIFTH OF ZINC EXTRACTED IN THE UK.

MR HANKINSON ADDED: "THEY WERE AN EXTREMELY HARDY MEN, VERY TOUGH INDEED AND THE SCULPTOR HAS MANAGED TO CONVEY THAT IN HIS WORK VERY EFFECTIVELY.

"WE HAVE ALSO HAD A PLAQUE MADE IN MEMORY OF THOSE WHO LOST THEIR LIVES DOWN THE MINES".

ABOUT 30 MEN WERE KILLED IN MINING ACCIDENTS BETWEEN THE YEARS OF 1831 AND 1912.

SOME DROWNED, SOME WERE CRUSHED IN ROCK FALLS AND OTHERS DIED IN DYNAMITE EXPLOSIONS.

"THE WORKING CONDITIONS WERE INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT," SAID MR HANKINSON.

"SOME OF THE MEN HAD TO WALK MILES TO GET TO WORK IN THE FIRST PLACE. ONCE THERE, THEY HAD A TWO-HOUR JOURNEY ON LADDERS DOWN INTO THE MINES - SOME OF THE SHAFTS WERE A THIRD OF A MILE DEEP."

SCULPTOR ONKY WIJANA SAID HE WANTED TO CAPTURE THE STRENGTH AND DETERMINATION OF THE LAXEY MINERS

THE STATUE, CARVED FROM A FIVE-TONE BLOCK OF CARLOW BLUE LIMESTONE, TOOK MR WIJANA 10 MONTHS TO COMPLETE IN HIS STUDIO IN BANJAR SILAKARANG, INDONESIA.

"THESE GUYS WERE TOUGH BUT OFTEN LOOKED WEATHER-BEATEN, SUNKEN-CHEEKED AND WORN OUT," SAID MR WIJANA.

"HOWEVER, THEY ALSO HAD A SOLIDITY TO THEM AND ALWAYS A DETERMINATION IN THEIR EYES THAT I WANTED TO CAPTURE."

ONCE ERECTED ON ITS PLINTH, THE STONE MINER STATUE STANDS 13FT (4M) HIGH.

 

Oil on canvas. 55.3 x 33 cm.

 

Modigliani was born into a Jewish family of merchants. As a child he suffered from pleurisy and typhus, which prevented him from receiving a conventional education. In 1898 he began to study painting. After a brief stay in Florence in 1902, he continued his artistic studies in Venice, remaining there until the winter of 1906, when he left for Paris. His early admiration for Italian Renaissance painting—especially that of Siena—was to last throughout his life. In Paris Modigliani became interested in the Post-Impressionist paintings of Paul Cézanne. His initial important contacts were with the poets André Salmon and Max Jacob, with the artist Pablo Picasso, and—in 1907—with Paul Alexandre, a friend of many avant-garde artists and the first to become interested in Modigliani and to buy his works. In 1908 the artist exhibited five or six paintings at the Salon des Indépendants. In 1909 Modigliani met the Romanian sculptor Constantin Brancusi, on whose advice he seriously studied African sculpture. To prepare himself for creating his own sculpture, he intensified his graphic experiments. In his drawings Modigliani tried to give the function of limiting or enclosing volumes to his contours. In 1912 he exhibited at the Salon d’Automne eight stone heads whose elongated and simplified forms reflect the influence of African sculpture. Modigliani returned entirely to painting about 1915, but his experience as a sculptor had fundamental consequences for his painting style. The characteristics of Modigliani’s sculptured heads—long necks and noses, simplified features, and long oval faces—became typical of his paintings. He reduced and almost eliminated chiaroscuro (the use of gradations of light and shadow to achieve the illusion of three-dimensionality), and he achieved a sense of solidity with strong contours and the richness of juxtaposed colors.

 

The outbreak of World War I in 1914 increased the difficulties of Modigliani’s life. Alexandre and some of his other friends were at the front, his paintings did not sell, and his already delicate health was deteriorating because of his poverty, feverish work ethic, and abuse of alcohol and drugs. He was in the midst of a troubled affair with the South African poet Beatrice Hastings, with whom he lived for two years, from 1914 to 1916. He was assisted, however, by the art dealer Paul Guillaume and especially by the Polish poet Leopold Zborowski, who bought or helped him to sell a few paintings and drawings.

 

Modigliani was not a professional portraitist; for him the portrait was only an occasion to isolate a figure as a kind of sculptural relief through firm and expressive contour drawing. He painted his friends, usually personalities of the Parisian artistic and literary world (such as the artists Juan Gris and Jacques Lipchitz, the writer and artist Jean Cocteau, and the poet Max Jacob), but he also portrayed unknown people, including models, servants, and girls from the neighborhood. In 1917 he began painting a series of about 30 large female nudes that, with their warm, glowing colors and sensuous, rounded forms, are among his best works. In December of that year Berthe Weill organized a solo show for him in her gallery, but the police judged the nudes indecent and had them removed.

 

In 1917 Modigliani began a love affair with the young painter Jeanne Hébuterne, with whom he went to live on the Côte d’Azur. Their daughter, Jeanne, was born in November 1918. His painting became increasingly refined in line and delicate in colour. A more tranquil life and the climate of the Mediterranean, however, did not restore the artist’s undermined health. After returning to Paris in May 1919, he became ill in January 1920; 10 days later he died of tubercular meningitis. Little-known outside avant-garde Parisian circles, Modigliani had seldom participated in official exhibitions. Fame came after his death, with a solo exhibition at the Bernheim-Jeune Gallery in 1922 and later with a biography by André Salmon. For decades critical evaluations of Modigliani’s work were overshadowed by the dramatic story of his tragic life, but he is now acknowledged as one of the most significant and original artists of his time.

If there's one place in London that merits an Art Deco Fair, it's Eltham Palace,

with its Art Deco entrance hall, created by the textile magnates the Courtaulds in 1936. The much-loved weekend fair is held twice a year - once in the summer and a second time in September - giving visitors the chance to buy original 1930s objects, from furniture and collectables to hats, handbags and jewellery. Browse the original 1930s objects, from jewellery to furniture while you take in the magnificent Art Deco surroundings of the Palace. Ticket price includes entry to Eltham Palace and gardens and you can see the house by guided tour.

 

About Eltham Palace

Restored by English Heritage, this fantastic house boasts Britain's finest Art Deco interior and offers visitors the chance to indulge in the opulence of 1930s Britain whilst at the same time experiencing the solidity and symbolism of medieval London. Eltham Palace began to evolve during the 15th century when Edward IV commissioned the Great Hall, which survives today as a testament to the craftsmanship of the period. More about Eltham Palace

 

www.londontown.com/LondonEvents/ArtDecoFair/d59a2/

St Edmund, Southwold, Suffolk

 

I kept meaning to come back to Southwold - the church, I mean, for I found myself in the little town from time to time. I finally kept my promise to myself in the summer of 2017, tipping up on a beautiful sunny day only to find the church closed for extensive repairs. The days got shorter, and by the time the church reopened it was too late in the year for me to try again. In fact, it was not until late October 2018 that I made it back there, on another beautiful day.

 

Southwold is well-known to people who have never even been there I suppose, signifying one side of Suffolk to which Ipswich is perhaps the counter in the popular imagination. Some thirty years ago, the comedian Michael Palin made a film for television called East of Ipswich. It was a memoir of his childhood in the 1950s, and the basic comic premise behind the film was that in those days families would go on holiday to seaside resorts on the East Anglian coast. In the child Palin's case, it was Southwold.

 

The amusement came from the idea that people in those days would sit in deckchairs beside the grey north sea, or shelter from the drizzle in genteel teashops or the amusement arcade on the pier. In the Costa Brava package tour days of the 1980s, the quaintness of this image made it seem like something from a different world.

 

I remember Southwold in the 1980s. It was one of those agreeable little towns distant enough from anywhere bigger to maintain a life of its own. It still had its genteel tea shops, its dusty grocers, its quaint hotels and pubs all owned by Adnams, the old-fashioned and unfashionable local brewery. In the white heat of the Thatcherite cultural revolution, it seemed a place that would soon die on its feet quietly and peaceably.

 

And then, in the 1990s, the colour supplements discovered the East Anglian coast, and fell in love with it. The new fashions for antique-collecting, cooking with local produce and general country living, coupled with a snobbishness about how vulgar foreign package trips had become, conspired to make places like Southwold very sought after. Before Nigel Lawson's boom became a bust, the inflated house prices of London and the home counties gave people money to burn. And in their hoards, they came out of the big city to buy holiday homes in East Anglia.

 

Although they are often lumped together, the coasts of Norfolk and Suffolk are very different to each other (Cambridgeshire and North Essex are also culturally part of East Anglia, but the North Essex coast is too close to London to have ever stopped being cheap and cheerful, and Cambridgeshire has no coastline). Norfolk's beaches are wide and sandy, with dunes and cliffs and rock pools to explore. Towns like Cromer and Hunstanton seem to have stepped out of the pages of the Ladybird Book of the Seaside. Tiny villages along the Norfolk coast have secret little beaches of their own.

 

Suffolk's coast is wilder. Beaches are mainly pebbles rather than sand, and the marshes stretch inland, cutting the coast off from the rest of the county. Unlike Norfolk, Suffolk has no coast road, and so the settlements on the coast are isolated from each other, stuck at the ends of narrow lanes which snake away from the A12 and peter out in the heathland above the sea. There are fewer of them too. It is still quicker to get from Walberswick to Southwold by water than by land. Because they are isolated from each other, they take on individual personalities and characteristics. Because they are isolated from the land, they become bastions of polite civilisation.

 

Between Felixstowe in the south, which no outsiders like (and consequently is the favourite of many Suffolk people) and Lowestoft in the north, which is basically an industrial town-on-sea (but which still has the county's best beaches - shhh, don't tell a soul) are half a dozen small towns that vie with each other for trendiness. Southwold is the biggest, and today it is also the most expensive place to live in all East Anglia. Genteel tea shops survive, but are increasingly shouldered by shops that specialise in ski-wear and Barbour jackets, delicatessens that stock radicchio and seventeen different kinds of olive, jewellery shops and kitchen gadget shops and antique furniture shops where prices are exquisitely painful. Worst of all, the homely, shabby, smoke-filled Sole Bay Inn under the lighthouse has been converted by the now-trendy Adnams Brewery into a chrome and glass filled wine bar.

 

If you see someone in Norfolk driving a truck, they are probably wearing a baseball cap and carrying a shotgun. in Suffolk, they've more likely just bought a Victorian pine dresser from an antique shop, and they're taking it back to Islington. Does this matter? The fishing industry was dying anyway. The tourist industry was also dying. If places like Southwold, Aldeburgh and Orford become outposts of north London, at least they will still provide jobs for local people. But the local people won't be able to afford to live there, of course. They'll be bussed in from Reydon, Leiston and Melton to provide services for people in holiday cottages which are the former homes they grew up in, but can no longer afford to buy. Does this seriously annoy me? Not as much as it does them, I'll bet.

 

So, lets go to Southwold, turning off the A12 at the great ship of Blythburgh church, the wide marshes of the River Blyth spreading aimlessly beyond the road. We climb and fall over ancient dunes, and then the road opens out into the flat marshes, the town spreads out beyond. We enter through Reydon (now actually bigger than Southwold, with houses at half the price) and over the bridge into the town of Southwold itself.

 

Having been so critical, I need to say here that Southwold is beautiful. It is quite the loveliest small town in all East Anglia. None of the half-timbered houses here that you find in places like Long Melford and Lavenham. Here, the town was completely destroyed by fire in the 17th century, and so we have fine 18th and 19th century municipal buildings. One of the legacies of the fire was the creation of wide open spaces just off of the high street, called greens. The best one of all is Gun Hill Green, overlooking the bay where the last major naval battle in British waters was fought. The cannons still point out to sea. The houses here are stunning, gobsmacking, jaw-droppingly wonderful. If I could afford to buy one of them as a weekend retreat, then you bet your life I would, and to hell with the people who moaned about it.

 

At the western end of the High Street is St Bartholomew's Green, and beyond it sits what is, for my money, Suffolk's single most impressive building. This is the great church of St Edmund, a vast edifice built all in one go in the second half of the 15th century. Only Lavenham can compete with it for scale and presence. Unlike the massing at St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham, St Edmund is defined by a long unbroken clerestory and aisles beneath - where St Peter and St Paul looks full of tension, ready to spring, St Edmund is languid and floating, a ship at ease.

 

Southwold church was just one of several vast late medieval rebuildings in this area. Across the river at Walberswick and a few miles upriver at Blythburgh the same thing happened. Blythburgh still survives, but Walberswick was derelicted to make a smaller church, as were Covehithe and Kessingland. Dunwich All Saints was lost to the sea. But Southwold was the biggest. Everything about it breathes massive permanence, from the solidity of the tower to the turreted porch, from the wide windows to the jaunty sanctus bell fleche.

 

Along the top of the aisles, grimacing faces look down. All of them are different. The pedestals atop the clerestory were intended for statues as at Blythburgh, but were probably never filled before the Reformation intervened. At the west end, above the great west window, you can see the vast inscription SAncT EDMUND ORA P: NOBIS ('Saint Edmund, pray for us') as bold a record of the mindset of late medieval East Anglian Catholicism as you'll find.

 

As at Lavenham and Long Melford, the interior has been extensively restored, but not in as heavy or blunt a manner as at those two churches. St Edmund has, it must be said, benefited from the attentions of German bombers who put out all the dull Victorian glass with blast damage during World War II. Here, the interior is vast, light and airy, and much of the restoration is 20th century work, not 19th century.

 

Perhaps because of this, more medieval interior features have survived. Unlike Long Melford, Southwold does not have surviving medieval glass (Mr Dowsing saw to that in 1644), but it does have what is the finest screen in the county.

 

It stretches right the way across the church, and is effectively three separate screens. There is a rood screen across the chancel arch, and parclose screens across the north and south chancel aisles. All retain their original dado figures. There are 36 of them, more than anywhere else in Suffolk. They have been restored, particularly in the central range, but are fascinating because they retain a lot of original gesso work, where plaster of Paris is applied to wood and allowed to dry. It is then carved to produce intricate details.

 

The central screen shows the eleven remaining disciples and St Paul. They are, from left to right, Philip, Bartholomew, James the Less, Thomas, Andrew, Peter, Paul, John, James, Simon, Jude and Matthew.

 

The south chancel chapel is light and open. The bosses above are said to represent Mary Tudor and her second husband Charles, Duke of Brandon. The screen here is painted with twelve Old Testament prophets, and Mortlock suggests that they are by a different hand to the images on the other two screens. Here on the south screen, some of the figures have surviving naming inscriptions, and Mortlock surmises that the complete sequence, from left to right, is Baruch, Hosea, Nahum, Jeremiah, Elias, Moses, David, Isaiah, Amos, Jonah and Ezekiel. Further, he observes that the subject is a usual one for the English Midlands, but rare for East Anglia, and that perhaps this part of the screen came from elsewhere. The same may be true of the other two parts - it is hard to think that the central screen was deliberately made too wide for the two arcades.

 

The north aisle chapel is reserved as the blessed sacrament chapel. The screen is harder to explore, because the northern side is curtailed by a large chest, but it features angels. Unlike the screens at Hitcham and Blundeston, which show angels holding instruments of the passion, these are the nine orders of angels, with Gabriel at their head, and flanked by angels holding symbols of the Trinity and the Eucharist. Mortlock says that they are so similar to the ones at Barton Turf in Norfolk that they may be by the same hand, in which case the central screen is also by that person. They are, from left to right, the Holy Trinity, Gabriel, Archangels, Powers, Dominions, Cherubim, Seraphim, Thrones, Principalities, Virtues, Messengers, and finally the Eucharist. The Holy Trinity angel still has part of the original dedicatory inscription beneath his feet.

 

If part or all of this screen came from elsewhere, where did it come from? Possibly either Walberswick, Covehithe or Kessingland, the three downsized churches mentioned earlier. More excitingly, it might have come from one of the churches along this coast that was lost to the sea, perhaps neighbouring St Nicholas at Easton Bavents, or, just to the south, St Peter or St John the Baptist, the two Dunwich churches lost in the 16th and 17th centuries. We'll never know.

 

If you turn back at the screen and face westwards, your eyes are automatically drawn to the towering font cover, part of the extensive 1930s redecoration of the building. The clerestory is almost like a glass atrium intended to house it. Also the work of the period is the repainting and regilding of the 15th century pulpit (a lot of people blanch at this, but I think it is gorgeous) and the lectern. Beneath the font cover, the font is clearly one of the rare seven sacraments series, and part of the same group as Westhall, Blythburgh and Wenhaston. As at Blythburgh and Wenhaston, the panels are completely erased, probably in the 19th century, an act of barbarous vandalism. Given that Westhall is probably the best of all in the county, we must assume that three major medieval art treasures were wiped out. Astonishingly, vague shadows survive of the former reliefs; you can easily make out the Mass panel, facing east as at Westhall, the Penance panel and even what may be the Baptism of Christ.

 

Stepping through the screen, the reredos ahead is by Benedict Williamson and the glass above by Ninian Comper, familiar names in the Anglo-catholic pantheon, and evidence of an enthusiasm here that still survives in High Church form. There is a good engraved glass image of St Edmund to the north of the sanctuary, very much in the 1960s fashion, but curiously placed. On the wall of the chancel to the west of it, the high organ case is also painted and gilded enthusiastically.

 

As well as the screen, Southwold's other great medieval survival is the set of return stalls either side of the eastern face of the chancel screen. They have misericord seats, but the best feature are the handrests between the seats. On the south side, carvings include a man with a horn-shaped hat and sinners being drawn into the mouth of hell. On the north side are a man playing two pipes, a monkey preaching and a beaver biting its own genitals, a tale from the medieval bestiary, apparently.

 

What else is there to see? Well, the church is full of delights, and rewards further visits which always seem to turn up something previously unnoticed. St George rides full tilt at a dragon on an old chest at the west end of the north aisle. There is good 19th century glass in the porch and at the west end of the nave. A clock jack stands, axe and bell in hand, at the west end, a twin to the one upriver at Blythburgh. This one has a name, he's called Southwold Jack, and he is one of the symbols of the Adnams brewery.

 

As Mortlock notes, there are very few surviving memorials. This is partly because St Edmund was not in the patronage of a great landed family, but it may also suggest that they were largely removed at the time of the 19th century restoration, as at Brandon. One moving one is for the child of a vicar, and there are some interesting pre-Oxford Movement 19th century brasses in the south aisle.

 

High, high above all this, the roofs are models of Anglo-Catholic melodrama, the canopy of honour to the rood and the chancel ceilure in particular. But there is a warmth about it all that is missing from, say, Eye, which underwent a similar makeover. This church feels full of life, and not a museum piece at all. I remember attending evensong here late one winter Saturday afternoon, and it was magical. On another visit, I came on one of the first days of spring that was truly warm and bright, with not a cloud in the sky. As we drove into town, a cold fret off of the sea was condensing the steam of the brewery, sending it in swirls and skeins around the tower of St Edmund like low cloud. It was so atmospheric that I almost forgave them for what they have done to the Sole Bay Inn.

Bauhaus Museum Weimar, Germany

 

German architect Heike Hanada designed a minimalist concrete museum to celebrate the Bauhaus in Weimar, where the design school was founded 100 years ago. The building is dedicated to the design school creates a physical cultural presence for the Bauhaus in the German city where it was based between 1919 and 1925. Located near the Nazi-era Gauforum square and the Neue Museum Weimar, the Bauhaus Museum is a simple five-storey concrete box broken only with its entrance and a couple of windows. The enclosing shell of light-grey concrete lends the cube stability and dynamic solidity. Equally spaced horizontal grooves run around the facades of the museum, with the words "bauhaus museum" repeated in a band near the top of the building. Hanada designed the museum to be a public building for the city and has attempted to clearly connect it to the neighbouring park. With elements such as plinths, fasciae, portals, stairways and a terrace to the park, the architecture incorporates classical themes that underscore its public character.

 

The museum contains 2,000 m2 of exhibition space, which will be used to display around 1,000 items from the Weimar Bauhaus collection. A shop and entrance hall is located on the ground floor, with a cafe and toilets below, and three floors dedicated to telling the story of the Bauhaus above. Each of the galleries overlooks double-height spaces and are accessed from a long ceremonial staircase that stretches the height of the building. The visitors ascend a succession of interchanging open spaces and staircases until they finally arrive at the top floor where they are presented with an unobstructed view of the park. The cascading staircases are encased by ceiling-high walls and function as free-standing, enclosed bodies in the interior space. The collection is arranged to inform visitors about the history of the design school, with the gallery on the first floor dedicated to its origins in Weimar and the Bauhaus manifesto that Walter Gropius wrote in 1919. The second floor has exhibits that show how these ideas were implemented, with galleries dedicated to each of the Bauhaus directors – Gropius, Hannes Meyer and Mies van der Rohe – at the top of the building.

 

The museum in Weimar has opened to coincide with the centenary of the Bauhaus, which was established in the city in 1919. The school was forced to relocate from Weimar to Dessau in 1925, where Gropius designed a new school building for the institution. Following a short time based in Berlin the school closed for good in 1933. Although only open for just over a decade, the Bauhaus is the most influential art and design school in history. The ideas and people associated with the school had an incredible impact on design and architecture, and to mark its centenary we created a series exploring its key works and figures.

 

Explore#15 - 24.06.2009 & Explore Front Page

 

The lordly and isolate Satyrs—look at them come in

on the left side of the beach

like a motorcycle club! And the handsomest of them,

the one who has a woman, driving that snazzy

convertible

Wow, did you ever see even in a museum

such a collection of boddisatvahs, the way

they come up to their stop, each of them

as though it was a rudder

the way they have to sit above it

and come to a stop on it, the monumental solidity

of themselves, the Easter Island

they make of the beach, the Red-headed Men

 

These are the Androgynes,

the Fathers behind the father, the Great Halves

From The Lordly and Isolate Satyrs by Charles Olson (1910 - 1970)

 

Best Viewed Large On Black - See where this picture was taken. [?]

(In English Below)

 

(J’ai piqué l’arrière-plan à World of Tank pour le mauvais montage).

 

Enfin complet !

 

Le Tie Crawler Version 2. Je préfère cette version.

 

Un de Tie mes préférés, encore une fois par son côté ridicule et peu pratique.

 

Le Tie Crawler (aussi connu comme Tie Century ou Tie Tank) est un véhicule blindé léger. Armé de deux blasters Tie classique, et d’un blaster anti-personnel (donc plus léger). Un seul pilote qui fait aussi office de tireur.

 

Idées dans le Lore

Il était simple à produire, et c’est à peu près tout. J’ai aussi le souvenir d’avoir lu quelque part que les recrues de l’Empire échouant au test pour devenir pilote de chasseur Tie, pouvaient se reconvertir plus facilement en pilote de Tie Crawler. Mais je n’ai pas pu retrouver la source. Et de toute façon l’idée que ce soit plus facile de devenir pilote de char plutôt que pilote de cargo quand on échoue à devenir pilote de chasse est stupide.

 

Limites

Tel que décrit, l’engin est limité. Les armes sont trop basses. Les deux blasters de Tie classique ne peuvent pas pivoter et du fait de son emplacement, le blaster antipersonnel ne peut pas pivoter verticalement avec un angle très grand. Les trois sont donc quasi inutiles sur n’importe quel terrain accidenté. De plus, la forme des chenilles me fait dire qu’un bloc de béton, d’environ un mètre de haut, suffirait à bloquer le Tie. Et puis c’est un Tie, donc pas de bouclier énergétique, donc peu blindé. L’unique pilote est à la merci de n’importe quel armement anti-char ou chasseur spatial. Il a aussi un gros point faible évident : les quatre réservoirs visibles de fuel. Bon déjà, c’est un point faible évident que n’importe quel rebelle mal armé essaiera de viser. Mais aussi, pourquoi les avoir mis là ? Vous avez vu la taille des chenilles ? Et la tailles des réservoirs ? Il suffisait de les mettre quelque part dans les chenilles où ils auraient été mieux protégés, mais aussi plus proche des moteurs. Sans compter qu’en cas d’explosion, les éloigner un peu du pilote augmenterait ses chances de survie. Et l’Empire a à cœur la sécurité de ses employés…

 

Amélioration de Lego 7664

Lego a amélioré le concept en rendant les ailes pivotantes et indépendantes. Le Tie crawler devenant tout à coup vraiment tout terrain. De plus, ils ont ajouté des lance-missiles planqués dans les ailes. Ce que j’avais maladroitement fait dans ma première version. Cette version n’en a pas. Les idées que j’ai testées en la matière manquaient tous de solidité. Et pour être franc, une fois sur l’étagère, les missiles cachés le resteraient.

 

Utilisation possible.

L’engin a quand même son utilité, surtout avec les améliorations lego. Ok, il n’a pas de boucliers, mais même la partie la plus faible (le cockpit) résiste au vide spatial, ce n’est pas non plus une voiture en plastique. En cas de guérilla, il peut être pratique. Il est relativement rapide (90km/h), et contrairement au AT-Walkers (toute la série des AT-AT, AT-ST, AT-DP, AT-RT…), il ne risque pas de tomber. D’ailleurs, même si on le retournait, ce ne serait pas un problème, ce serait même un avantage d’avoir les canons en haut. Il est aussi plus simple à stocker que des AT-AT et AT-ST, probablement aussi plus simple d’entretien.

Je vois aussi un avantage en tant qu’escorte de fantassin lors de patrouille à pied en zone de guérilla. En cas d’escarmouche, une demi-douzaine de soldats pourraient s’abriter derrière un mur de chenille. Concernant le point faible à l’arrière, c’est aussi un défaut de certains char IRL, donc on ne peut pas vraiment lui en tenir rigueur.

Il se trouve que j'ai trouvé un autre usage au Tie Crawler, en effet le mode « tourelle », avec les deux chenilles en position verticale.

Imaginez l'Empire arrive sur une nouvelle planète, ils explorent le terrain, et trouvent un endroit pour monter une base temporaire. Le temps de monter la base, le Tie Crawler pourrait monter la garde en mode tourelle. J’ai pas mal joué à Star Wars Battleground à l’époque (pour ceux qui ne connaissent pas, imaginez Age of Empire, mais version Star Wars). Imaginer un peu l’utilité d’une unité qui ferait à la fois tourelle et Tank.

 

Concernant le modèle en lui-même.

Le cockpit est bien solide, j’en suis très content, d’autant que j’ai réussi à y ajouter une ouverture de toit fonctionnelle, avec un passage. Alors soyons clair, vous n’y feriez pas passer une minifig, le trou ne fait que 1x2, mais c’est suffisant pour y positionner le conducteur en mode vigie (un pilote AT-AT piqué dans un set micro-fighter).

Les stickers viennent de lego, le TIE classique UCS que j’ai démonté depuis longtemps, mais dont j’avais gardé les pièces « stickers » pour cet usage.

Les chenilles aussi sont solides, je regrette de n’avoir pu y intégrer un lance-missiles dissimulé comme le set lego, mais mes tentatives tenaient sur lego studio, mais pas sur IRL. Et si j’aimais l’idée de lego, je n’aimais l’exécution lego. J’ai donc laissé tomber.

Le seul point faible étant qu’avec le poids des chenilles, leur fixation au cockpit peut lâcher sous une contrainte trop grande. Contrairement au set lego, je déconseille de tenir le tout par les réservoirs. Il vaut mieux tenir le modèle par les deux chenilles en même temps.

    

(The background is from World of Tank for the poor editing).

 

Finally complete!

 

The Tie Crawler Version 2. I prefer this version.

 

One of my favorite Tie, again for its ridiculousness and impracticality.

 

The Tie Crawler (also known as Tie Century or Tie Tank) is a light armored vehicle. Armed with two classic Tie blasters, and one anti-personnel blaster (so, lighter). A single pilot who also acts as a gunner.

 

Ideas in the Lore

It was simple to produce, and that's about it. I also remember reading somewhere that Empire recruits who fail the test to become Tie fighter pilots could more easily be converted to Tie Crawler pilots. But I couldn't find the source. And anyway the idea that it's easier to become a tank pilot than a freighter pilot when you fail to become a fighter pilot is stupid.

 

Limitations

As described, the machine is limited. The weapons are too low. The two classic Tie blasters cannot rotate and because of its location, the anti-personnel blaster cannot rotate vertically at a very large angle. All three are therefore almost useless on any rough terrain. Also, the shape of the tracks tells me that a concrete block, about a meter high, would be enough to block the Tie. And it's a Tie, so it has no energy shield, so it's not very armored. The single pilot is at the mercy of any anti-tank weapon or space fighter. It also has an obvious weak point: the four visible fuel tanks. Now, this is an obvious weak point that any poorly armed rebel will try to target. But also, why put them there? Have you seen the size of the tracks? And the size of the tanks? They could have been put somewhere in the tracks where they would have been better protected, but also closer to the engines. Not to mention that in the event of an explosion, moving them a little further away from the pilot would increase his chances of survival. And the Empire cares about the safety of its employees...

 

Improvement of Lego 7664

Lego has improved the concept by making the wings swivel and independent. The Tie crawler suddenly becoming truly all terrain. Moreover, they added missile launchers hidden in the wings. Which I had clumsily done in my first version. This version does not have them. The ideas I tested in this area all lacked solidity. And to be honest, once on the shelf, the hidden missiles would stay there.

 

Possible use.

The thing still has its uses, especially with the lego upgrades. Ok, it doesn't have shields, but even the weakest part (the cockpit) resists the vacuum of space, it's not a plastic car either. In case of guerrilla warfare, it can be handy. It is relatively fast (90km/h), and unlike the AT-Walkers (the whole series of AT-AT, AT-ST, AT-DP, AT-RT...), it does not risk falling. Moreover, even if it was turned over, it would not be a problem, it would even be an advantage to have the guns on top. It is also easier to store than AT-ATs and AT-STs, probably also easier to maintain.

I also see an advantage as an infantryman escort when on foot patrol in a guerrilla zone. In case of a skirmish, half a dozen soldiers could take shelter behind a track wall. Regarding the weak point at the rear, this is also a flaw of some IRL tanks, so you can't really hold it against it.

I happened to find another use for the Tie Crawler, the " tower " mode, with the two tracks in vertical position.

Imagine the Empire arrives on a new planet, they explore the terrain, and find a place to set up a temporary base. By the time the base is set up, the Tie Crawler could stand guard in a tower mode. I played a lot of Star Wars Battleground at the time (for those who don't know, imagine Age of Empire, but Star Wars version). Imagine the usefulness of a unit that would be both tower and tank.

 

About the model itself.

This cockpit is very solid, I'm very happy with it, especially since I managed to add a functional roof opening, with a passage. So let's be clear, you wouldn't fit a minifig through it, the hole is only 1x2, but it's enough to position the driver in lookout mode (an AT-AT pilot nicked from a micro-fighter set).

The stickers come from lego, the classic UCS TIE that I disassembled a long time ago, but I kept the "sticker" parts for this purpose.

The tracks are also solid, I regret not having been able to integrate a concealed missile launcher like the lego set, my attempts were successful on lego studio, but not on IRL. And if I liked the lego idea, I didn't like the lego execution. So I gave up.

The only weak point is that with the weight of the tracks, their fixation to the cockpit can break under too much stress. Contrary to the lego set, I don't recommend to hold the whole thing by the tanks. It is better to hold the model by both tracks at the same time.

   

En 1817, durante el periodo de independencia de Chile de la Monarquía española, el Ejército de Los Andes, liderado por el militar José de San Martín y contando con la colaboración del militar chileno Bernardo O’Higgins, declara en Mendoza a la Virgen del Carmen como patrona y protectora de la liberación de América. Asimismo, el 11 de febrero, anterior a la batalla de Chacabuco, O’Higgins la nombró como patrona y generalísima de las Armas de Chile.

 

El 14 de marzo de 1818, en una misa realizada en la Catedral de Santiago, en la cual asistieron los militares Bernardo O’Higgins y José de San Martín, acompañados del clérigo, monseñor José Ignacio Cienfuegos. En esta, se ratifica el juramento realizado en Mendoza, mencionando también la construcción del templo en honor a la Virgen del Carmen.

 

La victoria ocurrió durante la Batalla de Maipú, hito histórico que aseguró la independencia de Chile2​. El 7 de mayo de 1818, Bernardo O'Higgins, en su cargo de Director Supremo de la Nación, decreta la construcción del templo, dejando a cargo a Juan Agustín Alcalde y a Agustín de Eyzaguirre5​para su ejecución. Sin embargo, no es hasta 1821 que O'Higgins ordena a enajenar los terrenos en el cuál se contemplaba destinar parte de estos en la construcción de la parroquia.

 

Es así como el 15 de noviembre de 1818, comienza la construcción de la iglesia que cumpliría el voto a la Virgen del Carmen. La primera piedra se colocó durante una ceremonia a la que asistió Bernardo O’Higgins, acompañado del militar José de San Martín.

 

Desde 1818, el avance de la construcción de la capilla se postergaba cada vez más. A esto se le sumó la abdicación de Bernardo O’Higgins en su mandato como Director Supremo en el año 1823,3​2​ lo cual terminó por paralizar las obras y convirtió el espacio destinado a la iglesia, en pesebreras para el ganado.

 

No fue hasta el gobierno de Domingo Santa María, en 1885 que se destinaron esfuerzos para la culminación de la obra que ya llevaba más de 66 años inconclusa. Es así como en 1895 pudo ser inaugurada y bendecida durante el mandato del presidente Jorge Montt.

 

En 1942, durante el Congreso Mariano que ocurrió en Santiago, se decretó la construcción de un nuevo templo que reemplazaría a la Capilla de la Victoria de Maipú. Ya en 1948, el Arzobispo José María Caro, ordenó la iniciación de la nueva obra que más adelante se convertiría en el actual Templo Votivo de Maipú.

 

La capilla se trataba de una construcción de arquitectura de estilo románico y neoclásico; contemplaba también un campanario y una torre de reloj.​ En el exterior de la iglesia se conserva una estatua que representa al Cristo peregrino, acompañada de una placa con los versos del poeta Felix Lope de Vega.

 

El terremoto de 1906, provocó daños críticos en la estructura de la capilla, a eso se sumó un posterior temblor en el año 1927 que provocó un derrumbe parcial en el campanario, teniendo que ser reemplazado por uno de madera. Se mantuvo su estructura hasta 1974, año en la que fue demolida, conservando sus muros laterales por su importancia histórica en el proceso de independencia de Chile.​ En la actualidad, los muros pueden ser observados frente al Templo Votivo de Maipú, sin acceso al interior de ella debido a la poca solidez de su construcción.

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In 1817, during the period of independence of Chile from the Spanish Monarchy, the Army of the Andes, led by the soldier José de San Martín and with the collaboration of the Chilean soldier Bernardo O'Higgins, declared the Virgen del Carmen in Mendoza as patroness and protector of the liberation of America. Likewise, on February 11, before the battle of Chacabuco, O'Higgins named her as patron saint and generalissima of the Arms of Chile.

 

On March 14, 1818, at a mass held in the Cathedral of Santiago, attended by the soldiers Bernardo O'Higgins and José de San Martín, accompanied by the clergyman, Monsignor José Ignacio Cienfuegos. In this, the oath made in Mendoza is ratified, also mentioning the construction of the temple in honor of the Virgen del Carmen.

 

The victory occurred during the Battle of Maipú, a historical milestone that ensured the independence of Chile2. On May 7, 1818, Bernardo O'Higgins, in his position as Supreme Director of the Nation, decreed the construction of the temple, leaving Juan Agustín Alcalde and Agustín de Eyzaguirre5 in charge of its execution. However, it was not until 1821 that O'Higgins ordered the alienation of the land, in which it was contemplated to allocate part of it to the construction of the parish.

 

This is how on November 15, 1818, the construction of the church that would fulfill the vow to the Virgen del Carmen began. The first stone was laid during a ceremony attended by Bernardo O'Higgins, accompanied by military officer José de San Martín.

 

From 1818, the progress of the construction of the chapel was postponed more and more. To this was added the abdication of Bernardo O'Higgins in his mandate as Supreme Director in the year 1823,3​2​ which ended up paralyzing the works and converted the space destined for the church into mangers for cattle.

 

It was not until the government of Domingo Santa María, in 1885, that efforts were made to complete the work that had already been unfinished for more than 66 years. This is how in 1895 it could be inaugurated and blessed during the mandate of President Jorge Montt.

 

In 1942, during the Marian Congress that took place in Santiago, the construction of a new temple was decreed to replace the Maipú Victory Chapel. Already in 1948, Archbishop José María Caro ordered the initiation of the new work that would later become the current Maipú Votive Temple.

 

The chapel was a construction of Romanesque and neoclassical style architecture; It also contemplated a bell tower and a clock tower. Outside the church there is a statue that represents the pilgrim Christ, accompanied by a plaque with the verses of the poet Felix Lope de Vega.

 

The 1906 earthquake caused critical damage to the structure of the chapel, to which was added a subsequent tremor in 1927 that caused a partial collapse of the bell tower, having to be replaced by a wooden one. Its structure was maintained until 1974, the year in which it was demolished, preserving its side walls due to its historical importance in the Chilean independence process. Currently, the walls can be seen in front of the Votive Temple of Maipú, without access to the inside of it due to the lack of solidity of its construction.

Southwold, Suffolk

 

The towers of the churches of St Edmund (Church of England, left) and Sacred heart (Catholic, right).

 

I kept meaning to come back to Southwold - the churches, I mean, for I found myself in the little town from time to time. I finally kept my promise to myself in the summer of 2017, tipping up on a beautiful sunny day only to find St Edmund closed for extensive repairs. The days got shorter, and by the time the church reopened it was too late in the year for me to try again. In fact, it was not until late October 2018 that I made it back there, on another beautiful day.

 

Southwold is well-known to people who have never even been there I suppose, signifying one side of Suffolk to which Ipswich is perhaps the counter in the popular imagination. Some thirty years ago, the comedian Michael Palin made a film for television called East of Ipswich. It was a memoir of his childhood in the 1950s, and the basic comic premise behind the film was that in those days families would go on holiday to seaside resorts on the East Anglian coast. In the child Palin's case, it was Southwold.

 

The amusement came from the idea that people in those days would sit in deckchairs beside the grey north sea, or shelter from the drizzle in genteel teashops or the amusement arcade on the pier. In the Costa Brava package tour days of the 1980s, the quaintness of this image made it seem like something from a different world.

 

I remember Southwold in the 1980s. It was one of those agreeable little towns distant enough from anywhere bigger to maintain a life of its own. It still had its genteel tea shops, its dusty grocers, its quaint hotels and pubs all owned by Adnams, the old-fashioned and unfashionable local brewery. In the white heat of the Thatcherite cultural revolution, it seemed a place that would soon die on its feet quietly and peaceably.

 

And then, in the 1990s, the colour supplements discovered the East Anglian coast, and fell in love with it. The new fashions for antique-collecting, cooking with local produce and general country living, coupled with a snobbishness about how vulgar foreign package trips had become, conspired to make places like Southwold very sought after. Before Nigel Lawson's boom became a bust, the inflated house prices of London and the home counties gave people money to burn. And in their hoards, they came out of the big city to buy holiday homes in East Anglia.

 

Although they are often lumped together, the coasts of Norfolk and Suffolk are very different to each other (Cambridgeshire and North Essex are also culturally part of East Anglia, but the North Essex coast is too close to London to have ever stopped being cheap and cheerful, and Cambridgeshire has no coastline). Norfolk's beaches are wide and sandy, with dunes and cliffs and rock pools to explore. Towns like Cromer and Hunstanton seem to have stepped out of the pages of the Ladybird Book of the Seaside. Tiny villages along the Norfolk coast have secret little beaches of their own.

 

Suffolk's coast is wilder. Beaches are mainly pebbles rather than sand, and the marshes stretch inland, cutting the coast off from the rest of the county. Unlike Norfolk, Suffolk has no coast road, and so the settlements on the coast are isolated from each other, stuck at the ends of narrow lanes which snake away from the A12 and peter out in the heathland above the sea. There are fewer of them too. It is still quicker to get from Walberswick to Southwold by water than by land. Because they are isolated from each other, they take on individual personalities and characteristics. Because they are isolated from the land, they become bastions of polite civilisation.

 

Between Felixstowe in the south, which no outsiders like (and consequently is the favourite of many Suffolk people) and Lowestoft in the north, which is basically an industrial town-on-sea (but which still has the county's best beaches - shhh, don't tell a soul) are half a dozen small towns that vie with each other for trendiness. Southwold is the biggest, and today it is also the most expensive place to live in all East Anglia. Genteel tea shops survive, but are increasingly shouldered by shops that specialise in ski-wear and Barbour jackets, delicatessens that stock radicchio and seventeen different kinds of olive, jewellery shops and kitchen gadget shops and antique furniture shops where prices are exquisitely painful. Worst of all, the homely, shabby, smoke-filled Sole Bay Inn under the lighthouse has been converted by the now-trendy Adnams Brewery into a chrome and glass filled wine bar.

 

If you see someone in Norfolk driving a truck, they are probably wearing a baseball cap and carrying a shotgun. in Suffolk, they've more likely just bought a Victorian pine dresser from an antique shop, and they're taking it back to Islington. Does this matter? The fishing industry was dying anyway. The tourist industry was also dying. If places like Southwold, Aldeburgh and Orford become outposts of north London, at least they will still provide jobs for local people. But the local people won't be able to afford to live there, of course. They'll be bussed in from Reydon, Leiston and Melton to provide services for people in holiday cottages which are the former homes they grew up in, but can no longer afford to buy. Does this seriously annoy me? Not as much as it does them, I'll bet.

 

So, lets go to Southwold, turning off the A12 at the great ship of Blythburgh church, the wide marshes of the River Blyth spreading aimlessly beyond the road. We climb and fall over ancient dunes, and then the road opens out into the flat marshes, the town spreads out beyond. We enter through Reydon (now actually bigger than Southwold, with houses at half the price) and over the bridge into the town of Southwold itself.

 

Having been so critical, I need to say here that Southwold is beautiful. It is quite the loveliest small town in all East Anglia. None of the half-timbered houses here that you find in places like Long Melford and Lavenham. Here, the town was completely destroyed by fire in the 17th century, and so we have fine 18th and 19th century municipal buildings. One of the legacies of the fire was the creation of wide open spaces just off of the high street, called greens. The best one of all is Gun Hill Green, overlooking the bay where the last major naval battle in British waters was fought. The cannons still point out to sea. The houses here are stunning, gobsmacking, jaw-droppingly wonderful. If I could afford to buy one of them as a weekend retreat, then you bet your life I would, and to hell with the people who moaned about it.

 

At the western end of the High Street is St Bartholomew's Green, and beyond it sits what is, for my money, Suffolk's single most impressive building. This is the great church of St Edmund, a vast edifice built all in one go in the second half of the 15th century. Only Lavenham can compete with it for scale and presence. Unlike the massing at St Peter and St Paul at Lavenham, St Edmund is defined by a long unbroken clerestory and aisles beneath - where St Peter and St Paul looks full of tension, ready to spring, St Edmund is languid and floating, a ship at ease.

 

Southwold church was just one of several vast late medieval rebuildings in this area. Across the river at Walberswick and a few miles upriver at Blythburgh the same thing happened. Blythburgh still survives, but Walberswick was derelicted to make a smaller church, as were Covehithe and Kessingland. Dunwich All Saints was lost to the sea. But Southwold was the biggest. Everything about it breathes massive permanence, from the solidity of the tower to the turreted porch, from the wide windows to the jaunty sanctus bell fleche.

 

Along the top of the aisles, grimacing faces look down. All of them are different. The pedestals atop the clerestory were intended for statues as at Blythburgh, but were probably never filled before the Reformation intervened. At the west end, above the great west window, you can see the vast inscription SAncT EDMUND ORA P: NOBIS ('Saint Edmund, pray for us') as bold a record of the mindset of late medieval East Anglian Catholicism as you'll find.

 

As at Lavenham and Long Melford, the interior has been extensively restored, but not in as heavy or blunt a manner as at those two churches. St Edmund has, it must be said, benefited from the attentions of German bombers who put out all the dull Victorian glass with blast damage during World War II. Here, the interior is vast, light and airy, and much of the restoration is 20th century work, not 19th century.

 

Perhaps because of this, more medieval interior features have survived. Unlike Long Melford, Southwold does not have surviving medieval glass (Mr Dowsing saw to that in 1644), but it does have what is the finest screen in the county.

 

It stretches right the way across the church, and is effectively three separate screens. There is a rood screen across the chancel arch, and parclose screens across the north and south chancel aisles. All retain their original dado figures. There are 36 of them, more than anywhere else in Suffolk. They have been restored, particularly in the central range, but are fascinating because they retain a lot of original gesso work, where plaster of Paris is applied to wood and allowed to dry. It is then carved to produce intricate details.

 

The central screen shows the eleven remaining disciples and St Paul. They are, from left to right, Philip, Bartholomew, James the Less, Thomas, Andrew, Peter, Paul, John, James, Simon, Jude and Matthew.

 

The south chancel chapel is light and open. The bosses above are said to represent Mary Tudor and her second husband Charles, Duke of Brandon. The screen here is painted with twelve Old Testament prophets, and Mortlock suggests that they are by a different hand to the images on the other two screens. Here on the south screen, some of the figures have surviving naming inscriptions, and Mortlock surmises that the complete sequence, from left to right, is Baruch, Hosea, Nahum, Jeremiah, Elias, Moses, David, Isaiah, Amos, Jonah and Ezekiel. Further, he observes that the subject is a usual one for the English Midlands, but rare for East Anglia, and that perhaps this part of the screen came from elsewhere. The same may be true of the other two parts - it is hard to think that the central screen was deliberately made too wide for the two arcades.

 

The north aisle chapel is reserved as the blessed sacrament chapel. The screen is harder to explore, because the northern side is curtailed by a large chest, but it features angels. Unlike the screens at Hitcham and Blundeston, which show angels holding instruments of the passion, these are the nine orders of angels, with Gabriel at their head, and flanked by angels holding symbols of the Trinity and the Eucharist. Mortlock says that they are so similar to the ones at Barton Turf in Norfolk that they may be by the same hand, in which case the central screen is also by that person. They are, from left to right, the Holy Trinity, Gabriel, Archangels, Powers, Dominions, Cherubim, Seraphim, Thrones, Principalities, Virtues, Messengers, and finally the Eucharist. The Holy Trinity angel still has part of the original dedicatory inscription beneath his feet.

 

If part or all of this screen came from elsewhere, where did it come from? Possibly either Walberswick, Covehithe or Kessingland, the three downsized churches mentioned earlier. More excitingly, it might have come from one of the churches along this coast that was lost to the sea, perhaps neighbouring St Nicholas at Easton Bavents, or, just to the south, St Peter or St John the Baptist, the two Dunwich churches lost in the 16th and 17th centuries. We'll never know.

 

If you turn back at the screen and face westwards, your eyes are automatically drawn to the towering font cover, part of the extensive 1930s redecoration of the building. The clerestory is almost like a glass atrium intended to house it. Also the work of the period is the repainting and regilding of the 15th century pulpit (a lot of people blanch at this, but I think it is gorgeous) and the lectern. Beneath the font cover, the font is clearly one of the rare seven sacraments series, and part of the same group as Westhall, Blythburgh and Wenhaston. As at Blythburgh and Wenhaston, the panels are completely erased, probably in the 19th century, an act of barbarous vandalism. Given that Westhall is probably the best of all in the county, we must assume that three major medieval art treasures were wiped out. Astonishingly, vague shadows survive of the former reliefs; you can easily make out the Mass panel, facing east as at Westhall, the Penance panel and even what may be the Baptism of Christ.

 

Stepping through the screen, the reredos ahead is by Benedict Williamson and the glass above by Ninian Comper, familiar names in the Anglo-catholic pantheon, and evidence of an enthusiasm here that still survives in High Church form. There is a good engraved glass image of St Edmund to the north of the sanctuary, very much in the 1960s fashion, but curiously placed. On the wall of the chancel to the west of it, the high organ case is also painted and gilded enthusiastically.

 

As well as the screen, Southwold's other great medieval survival is the set of return stalls either side of the eastern face of the chancel screen. They have misericord seats, but the best feature are the handrests between the seats. On the south side, carvings include a man with a horn-shaped hat and sinners being drawn into the mouth of hell. On the north side are a man playing two pipes, a monkey preaching and a beaver biting its own genitals, a tale from the medieval bestiary, apparently.

 

What else is there to see? Well, the church is full of delights, and rewards further visits which always seem to turn up something previously unnoticed. St George rides full tilt at a dragon on an old chest at the west end of the north aisle. There is good 19th century glass in the porch and at the west end of the nave. A clock jack stands, axe and bell in hand, at the west end, a twin to the one upriver at Blythburgh. This one has a name, he's called Southwold Jack, and he is one of the symbols of the Adnams brewery.

 

As Mortlock notes, there are very few surviving memorials. This is partly because St Edmund was not in the patronage of a great landed family, but it may also suggest that they were largely removed at the time of the 19th century restoration, as at Brandon. One moving one is for the child of a vicar, and there are some interesting pre-Oxford Movement 19th century brasses in the south aisle.

 

High, high above all this, the roofs are models of Anglo-Catholic melodrama, the canopy of honour to the rood and the chancel ceilure in particular. But there is a warmth about it all that is missing from, say, Eye, which underwent a similar makeover. This church feels full of life, and not a museum piece at all. I remember attending evensong here late one winter Saturday afternoon, and it was magical. On another visit, I came on one of the first days of spring that was truly warm and bright, with not a cloud in the sky. As we drove into town, a cold fret off of the sea was condensing the steam of the brewery, sending it in swirls and skeins around the tower of St Edmund like low cloud. It was so atmospheric that I almost forgave them for what they have done to the Sole Bay Inn.

Plumbing Service Brochure design template by Andy Sargent. Showcased on Inkd.com.

 

A professional plumbing service can utilize this brochure to describe services and specials. The all-caps, condensed type face gives the brochure a feeling of solidity, which reflects the reliability of the company.

Looking from the wrong angles like a bad 1990s Pomo business college, Asplund's signature work pushed entirely different buttons when completed in 1928. It owes a considerable debt to the elementary Neoclassicism of Ledoux and Boullée, but (particularly in its Egyptoid portal, its punched windows, and its ochre hue) specifically picks up the thread of early 19th century Scandinavian classicism, e.g. that of Bindesbøll. There are also echoes of a basically Baroque sensibility, for example in the transition from a tight, dark entry passage to a grand, bright monumental space, a device I associate with Guarini and which Asplund used again in the Skandia Cinema. As at that project, the interiors also bear traces of the modernist funkis to which Asplund was turning as this building neared completion. The comfortable integration of all these languages into a single rather monumental whole makes it easy to read this building as a forerunner to better sorts of Postmodernism.

 

But it may be more useful to understand it in its own moment. The freeform classical manner known to Asplund and his peers offered several advantages - chiefly, a flexibility that seemed to accord with the need to handle new demands, and a sort of universal "common language" quality that prefigured the later appeal of an "International Style." Both of these qualities have also been offered in defense of Beaux-Arts classicism - no better way to tackle the emerging new problems of today than a building system everybody knows how to use, which (following Durand) accords well with discrete functionalist cells that you can assemble as needed to address the program.

 

The internationalism might be overstated in this case. Classicism probably felt that way in many parts of the world - like, say, Aalto's Finland, where as Richard Weston suggests in his Aalto monograph, the style stood in contrast to a rustic vernacular nationalism. In Sweden, as Stuart Knight has argued ("Swedish Modern Classicism in Context," International Architect, no. 5, 1982), classicism was a national style, notwithstanding the medievalism of Ostberg's famous town hall. That both Asplund the Swede and Aalto the Finn would absorb both the classical and vernacular modes, and then reinterpet them through an industrial Modernist vocabulary, is a testament not only to their intellectual flexibility and the needs of the time, but the pragmatic liberty with which they approached all of these traditions in the first place.

 

For all that, the library's solidity, symmetry and bulk risk a certain doughty pretentiousness, even if its steel-framed drum grants ita lightness absent from Asplund's original proposal. Certainly, Asplund - like Ledoux and company - would have argued that if any building deserves to stand tall and proud, the public library is it. But given his approach at the Göteborg courthouse just a few years later - approachable, comfortable, everyday - one wonders whether he perhaps had already started to doubt the monumentality on display here. In 1931, Asplund co-authored a pragmatic, populist-functionalist manifesto, acceptera, with several of his peers. One of them, Gregor Paulsson, would in the 1940s reject monumentality outright, asserting that it was in contradiction both with modernism and with democratic society (two elements that had become conceptually fused for many in this generation). I like the library quite a lot, but I'd be interested to know whether Asplund ever looked back on it with any misgivings.

River Dargle Flood Defence Scheme.

These images were taken during the third week of November 2016.

 

These are the critical stabilisation works at the Silverbridge site, adjacent to the N11 dual-carriageway:

 

Back in November 2014, we observed bank stabilisation works here involving excavation, repair and building of a support wall structure -- carried out by JONS Construction on behalf of the National Roads Authority.

 

We would occasionally catch sight of this work in the distance. Quite an impressive little piece of structural engineering.

Having built a retaining concave wall, backfilled for solidity, they were also drilling, fixing and sealing ground anchors to pin the entire structure together.

 

flic.kr/p/paSU8U

 

Now we see that further works are being undertaken.

Word has it that extra ‘stabilisation work’ has to be done to protect the integrity of the riverbank. At the section here we can see that there’s not much space between the edge of the rock face and the Armco at the side of the dual-carriageway.

Have yet to determine what precisely that will entail. Serious work to reinforce the side access ramp down to the river.

 

The N11 carriageway runs adjacent to this sunken side of the riverbank -- barely 2 (large) paces divide the two. Even with twin strips of Armco along the roadside, it's perilously close. Traffic speeds along this stretch (maximum speed 100 kmp). Only needs a touch from a heavy vehicle to cause secondary impact, which (worst possible scenario) could result in something going airborne.

 

Working in these confined spaces puts a premium of safety and communication.

 

The guys have hard-filled a working shelf on the riverbed, to allow machinery access to the rockface. Obviously some serious drilling is called for before a form of extra 'pinning' is put in place.

They have sunk a series of hollowed tubes/casings -- obviously to form the foundations of a more extensive structure.

And some investigative work around the transverse buttress of the access bridge, parallel to the heavy-duty pipeline carrying water down from the Vartry reservoir.

 

This was the day when they started to fill those sunken tubes/casings with liquid cement. At a (rough) guess -- I'd say the foundations are sunk to a depth of approx 4+m.

With such secure foundations in place, they would then look to construct a substantial bank of material, and/or retaining wall (similar to that in place further along the roadside bank).

 

As ever, the first attempt at a process brings it's own unique set of issues.

The tight confines of the riverbed obliges the use of a concrete pumping rig with long-boom capacity.

Would you call this a '4 section' unit'? Built on a 4-axle chassis, I'd suggest that it's reach is approx 40+m.

 

The remotely-controlled unit siphons and pumps liquid concrete into the sunken wells. Immediately the guys agitate the mixture to remove any air pockets. Final step is to lower in a pre-formed steel skeleton brace, intended to reinforce the foundation.

 

While we were there, the guys struggled to sink the steel frame into the sunken sleeve. I can't believe it was a problem with alignment -- other similar frames dropped neatly into their appointed sleeve.

Perhaps simply a case that the compressed liquid solution was just inflexible enough to receive the steel skeleton. We left.

 

Will find out later what the outcome was.

 

Nestled between the James Building (NRHP #80003814) and the Tivoli Theatre (NRHP #73001779), The Maclellan, constructed in 1924, was originally called The Provident Building to house Provident Life and Accident Insurance Company founded in 1887, which was later headed by Thomas Maclellan, a Canadian banker, who joined the firm as its chief operating officer. All three buildings were designed by Reuben Harrison Hunt (or R.H. Hunt as he was known) but The Maclellan is one of his best office building designs and one of the most distinctive buildings in Downtown Chattanooga.

 

“It all started in 1892 when Thomas Maclellan, then age 55, joined his business partner John McMaster in taking over the management and partial ownership of a struggling insurance company in Chattanooga named Provident Life and Accident Insurance Company. Maclellan was drawn to Chattanooga for its burgeoning industrial economy. His vision was for Provident to play a significant role in the city’s growth by covering workers facing injuries and accidents — a concept that made it very unlike other insurance firms at the time.” And, as an additional note, Thomas Maclellan's descendants (such as Robert J. Maclellan, president when R.H. Hunt was commissioned to design this first permanent headquarters building) continued to be influential members of the company for many, many years to come.

 

The architectural design of The Maclellan building is known as the Beaux Arts style, which is similar to the construction of the Wrigley Building in Chicago. The late Dr. Gavin Townsend, who was an art and architecture professor at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga, described The Maclellan as a standout building “worthy of architectural praise” in reference to the unique construction that draws on classical elements of a “Roman-style entrance flanked by large Ionic columns, with French Renaissance treatment at the top and a green-tiled mansard roof.” According to Dr. Townsend, “The Beaux Arts style gave the Maclellan Building the look of an enduring temple of financial stability,” he said. “The appearance of solidity and timelessness has a foundation to match, the footings of which dive 35 feet below ground to firmly anchor the structure to bedrock.”

 

The Maclellan now operates as a luxurious apartment community in Downtown Chattanooga that offers a unique opportunity to experience next-level living that marries historic architecture; a supreme walkability factor to shopping, dining, and entertainment; and impeccable customer service from an outstanding staff committed to a standard of residential excellence.

 

The Maclellan Building was added to the National Register of Historic Places on April 4, 1985 (just 3 years after Provident sold the building) for its significance in Architecture and Commerce for its association with the Maclellan family and Provident Life and Accident Insurance Company. All of the information above was found on the Maclellan Apartments website (seen below) as well as the original documents submitted for listing consideration that can be viewed here:

npgallery.nps.gov/NRHP/AssetDetail/2fc1e469-e143-4cca-b95...

 

www.themaclellanapartments.com/history/

 

Three bracketed photos were taken with a handheld Nikon D7200 and combined with Photomatix Pro to create this HDR image. Additional adjustments were made in Photoshop CS6.

 

"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~Jeremiah 29:11

 

The best way to view my photostream is through Flickriver with the following link: www.flickriver.com/photos/photojourney57/

One of the real pleasures of Flickr is finding out so much more about the areas you thought you knew.

 

I have been to Wymondham a few times, delivered beer to a hotel (more of that another time) and a friend used to run the Railway Inn near the station, but I hadn't really explored the town.

 

But having seen a friend's shots, I really thought I should go back and look at it anew. And then there was this building, the Abbey Church with two towers, ruins and all the associated history.

 

Whatever you think of the works inside, it is as a complete building, something to leave me, at least, in awe at the beauty. Of course, it might not please everyone, but it does me.

 

Many thanks to Sarah and Richard for taking me here.

 

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This massive church and its famous twin towers will be familiar to anyone who has ever been within five miles of Wymondham, pronounced Win-d'm; its presence always there above the roof tops, and still there on the horizon when the rooftops can no longer be seen. Closer to, it is like a mighty city on a hill. It is often referred to as Wymondham Abbey, which isn't entirely correct; but there was an Abbey here, and you can see a scattering of remains in the fields between the church and the river, gradually reduced over the centuries as the stone and rubble were taken away for use elsewhere.

We came to Wymondham on a day that was breathtakingly cold; although the temperature was hovering around freezing, there was a biting east wind that made it feel colder still. Hence, the clarity of the light in the photographs above. The top photograph, taken from the south on the far bank of the river, is worth a second glance, because it provides a number of clues as to how this extraordinary and magnificent building came to be the way it is today.

 

In the beginning, there was a Benedictine Priory, an offshoot of the Abbey of St Albans. It was founded here because, after the Conquest, William I granted the lands of Wymondham to the Duc d'Albini, and the Duke's brother was Abbot of St Albans. Part of the project consisted of building a massive Priory church, much bigger than the one you see today. In style, it was like the Abbey church of Bury St Edmund, or Ely Cathedral. It was a cruciform church about 70 metres long, and had twin west towers - you can see something similar today at Kings Lynn St Margaret. As at St Margaret, there was a third tower above the central crossing, the chancel extending a long way eastwards, and transepts that were as tall as the nave roof. It was completed during the 12th century.

 

You can see a surviving trace of the south-west tower in the photograph above. The base of its northern wall rises above the roofline at the western end of the clerestory, just beside the current west tower. The central crossing tower, however, was built to the east of the current east tower, the chancel extending eastwards beyond it.

D'Albini intended the church to serve the parish as well as the Priory, but this was not managed without recourse to the advice of Pope Innocent IV, who granted the people use of the nave and the north aisle, the Priory retaining the south aisle, transepts and chancel.

 

However, when the central crossing tower became unsafe in the late 14th century and had to be taken down, the Priory rebuilt it to the west of the crossing, actually within the nave. This is the east tower that you see today, now a shell. In turn, the parish extended the church further west, demolishing the two west towers and replacing them with the massive structure you see today. It really is huge; although it is not as tall as the church tower at Cromer, its solidity lends it a vastness not sensed there.

 

When the new east tower was built, the western face of it cut off the nave from the chancel, creating two separate spaces. When the west tower was built, it blocked off the former west window between the old towers. Because of this, Wymondham is the only medieval parish church in Norfolk, and one of the few in England, that has no window at either end.

Wymondham Priory became an Abbey in 1448, and seems to have lived its final century peaceably enough before being closed and asset-stripped by Henry VIII in the 1530s. The church then became solely the charge of the parish; the eastern parts, apart from the tower, were demolished.

 

Still without parapet or panelling, the west tower was never finished; but it features in the turbulent history of mid 16th century England because William Kett, one of the leaders of Kett's Rebellion, was hung from the top of it by Edward VI's thought police, a reminder of just how closely church and state became allied during the Reformation. It did give me pause for thought - hanging your enemy from a church tower seems such an obvious thing to do when you want to make a point. I wonder just how many more times it happened to less notable victims over the centuries, on church towers up and down the land?

 

You enter today through the great north porch, which is similar to that nearby at Hethersett, even to the extent of having an almost identical series of bosses. They depict rosary scenes in the life of Christ and the Blessed Virgin.

 

As I said, we came here on a spectacularly cold day, but I was delighted to discover that the interior of the church was heated, even on a Saturday. The church attracts a considerable number of visitors, as you might expect; but I still thought this was a nice gesture.

 

Wymondham church is above all else an architectural wonder; but in many ways this is a simple building, easy to explore and satisfying to visit. It has the feel of a small Anglican cathedral in that there is a pleasing mix of ancient Norman architecture and modern Anglican triumphalism; as in a cathedral, there are open spaces, and the old pews have been replaced with modern chairs, which almost always seems to work well. The glorious arcading, triforium and clerestory create a sense of great height; this, coupled with the lack of east or west windows, can make you feel rather boxed in, but I found I quite liked that; it made the place seem more intimate, despite its size.

 

The modern, triumphant feel to the place is largely owing to the vast reredos by Ninian Comper. This is generally considered to be his finest single work, and forms the parish war memorial. It was built and gilded during the 1920s and 1930s, and you have to say it is magnificent. It consists of three tiers of saints, with a glorious Christ in Majesty topping the tiers under the great tester. It was never completed; the space where the retable should be is now hidden by curtains.

The rood and beam, a bay to the west, is also Comper's work, and it is hard to conceive that work of this kind and to this scale will ever again be installed in an English church. The low sun, slanting through the south windows of the clerestory, picked out the gilding, and clever lighting from underneath helped to put Comper's vision of Heaven into practice. The row of candlesticks on the altar leaves you in no doubt in which wing of the Church of England Wymondham finds itself.

 

Comper's glory shouldn't distract you from the early 16th century facade above the sedilia. It is terracotta, and probably from the same workshop as the Bedingfield tombs at Oxborough. Here you see what might have happened to English church architecture if theReformation hadn't intervened. Looking west from the sanctuary, the original west window is clearly discernible, now home to the organ.

 

If Comper's work is a little rich for you, you may prefer the north aisle, which is wide enough to be a church in itself. Cleared of clutter, a few rows of chairs face a gorgeous early 20th century triptych depicting Mary and John at the foot of the cross. The Madonna and child towards the west is also Comper's, but the 1930s towering font cover on the typical East Anglian 15th century font is not; it is by Cecil Upcher. The south aisle is truncated, the eastern bays now curtained off; but here are the few medieval survivals in glass. From slightly later, but the other side of the Reformation divide, is an Elizabethan text on the arcade. It probably marks the point to which the pulpit was moved by the Anglicans in the 16th century.

 

St Mary and St Thomas of Canterbury is a church that it is easy to admire, and it certainly impressed me. Perhaps, it is not so easy a building to love. Inevitably, there is something rather urban in its grandeur, and even the warmth of the heating couldn't take the edge off the remoteness and anonymity you inevitably find in such a space.

 

However, the friendliness of the people on duty helped to make up for this. The area beneath the west tower has been converted into a shop, and the nice lady working there was very chatty and helpful. I have to say that I think it would concentrate my mind a bit, knowing that mighty weight was above me. The shop itself is good of its kind, selling books and religious items rather than just souvenirs, and more icons and rosaries than you would normally expect to find in an establishment of the Church of England.

 

The lady said that she was a Methodist really, and found the services rather formal, but she'd started coming to the Abbey because her daughter went there. "You ought to come, Mum, we're just like real Catholics!", she giggled, as she recalled her daughter's words. As a 'real Catholic' myself, I couldn't help thinking that we would have stripped out Comper's reredos long ago, and Masses would be accompanied by guitars and percussion, possibly with a modicum of clapping and the help of an overhead projector screen; but I kept my counsel.

 

Simon Knott, January 2006

 

www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/wymondham/wymondhamcofe.htm

Morgan is back in a big way at both Mattels diecast brands though predictably its the Matchbox take on this historic marque which is getting most of the love and attention. Their excellent Plus Four now gets a bedfellow in the form of the extremely eccentric 3 Wheeler which is a factory stock alternative to the one made by Hot Wheels.

Due to its small size they've had the good sense in giving it a metal baseplate as well as body to give it some semblance of solidity as well as lots of chrome. A potential peg warmer though I suspect not a fate which will happen here in the UK.

Part of 2025 Case G found at The Entertainer.

Mint and boxed.

A comfortable town car, but this Nagant’s roof rack gives it away as suitable for long-distance travel.

 

The driver worked partially in the open while the family (note the coat of arms on the doors) sheltered in a brocade-trimmed interior. Communication with the driver was made possible via a speaking tube. As with most cars of its time, the Nagant’s left side lantern has a green stripe to denote that side. In shipping however, the green marker denotes ‘starboard’, in other words, the right side. This 1909 Nagant was the first car of this make to be equipped with a driveshaft, and has never been restored.

 

It was delivered new to a customer in Maastricht. The plate of the Maastricht dealer is still fixed to the car. The bodywork was produced in Aachen and still bears its original paint.

 

The Nagant, which was manufactured in the Belgian city of Liège, was known for its solidity and reliability. Nagant was originally an arms and machine tools factory, but at the end of the 19th century it began producing cars. At the end of the 1920s Nagant was taken over by the Belgian Impéria-Excelsior company.

 

Louwman Museum

Den Haag - The Hague

Nederland - Netherlands

March 2013

Oil on canvas.

 

Modigliani was born into a Jewish family of merchants. As a child he suffered from pleurisy and typhus, which prevented him from receiving a conventional education. In 1898 he began to study painting. After a brief stay in Florence in 1902, he continued his artistic studies in Venice, remaining there until the winter of 1906, when he left for Paris. His early admiration for Italian Renaissance painting—especially that of Siena—was to last throughout his life. In Paris Modigliani became interested in the Post-Impressionist paintings of Paul Cézanne. His initial important contacts were with the poets André Salmon and Max Jacob, with the artist Pablo Picasso, and—in 1907—with Paul Alexandre, a friend of many avant-garde artists and the first to become interested in Modigliani and to buy his works. In 1908 the artist exhibited five or six paintings at the Salon des Indépendants. In 1909 Modigliani met the Romanian sculptor Constantin Brancusi, on whose advice he seriously studied African sculpture. To prepare himself for creating his own sculpture, he intensified his graphic experiments. In his drawings Modigliani tried to give the function of limiting or enclosing volumes to his contours. In 1912 he exhibited at the Salon d’Automne eight stone heads whose elongated and simplified forms reflect the influence of African sculpture. Modigliani returned entirely to painting about 1915, but his experience as a sculptor had fundamental consequences for his painting style. The characteristics of Modigliani’s sculptured heads—long necks and noses, simplified features, and long oval faces—became typical of his paintings. He reduced and almost eliminated chiaroscuro (the use of gradations of light and shadow to achieve the illusion of three-dimensionality), and he achieved a sense of solidity with strong contours and the richness of juxtaposed colors.

 

The outbreak of World War I in 1914 increased the difficulties of Modigliani’s life. Alexandre and some of his other friends were at the front, his paintings did not sell, and his already delicate health was deteriorating because of his poverty, feverish work ethic, and abuse of alcohol and drugs. He was in the midst of a troubled affair with the South African poet Beatrice Hastings, with whom he lived for two years, from 1914 to 1916. He was assisted, however, by the art dealer Paul Guillaume and especially by the Polish poet Leopold Zborowski, who bought or helped him to sell a few paintings and drawings.

 

Modigliani was not a professional portraitist; for him the portrait was only an occasion to isolate a figure as a kind of sculptural relief through firm and expressive contour drawing. He painted his friends, usually personalities of the Parisian artistic and literary world (such as the artists Juan Gris and Jacques Lipchitz, the writer and artist Jean Cocteau, and the poet Max Jacob), but he also portrayed unknown people, including models, servants, and girls from the neighborhood. In 1917 he began painting a series of about 30 large female nudes that, with their warm, glowing colors and sensuous, rounded forms, are among his best works. In December of that year Berthe Weill organized a solo show for him in her gallery, but the police judged the nudes indecent and had them removed.

 

In 1917 Modigliani began a love affair with the young painter Jeanne Hébuterne, with whom he went to live on the Côte d’Azur. Their daughter, Jeanne, was born in November 1918. His painting became increasingly refined in line and delicate in colour. A more tranquil life and the climate of the Mediterranean, however, did not restore the artist’s undermined health. After returning to Paris in May 1919, he became ill in January 1920; 10 days later he died of tubercular meningitis. Little-known outside avant-garde Parisian circles, Modigliani had seldom participated in official exhibitions. Fame came after his death, with a solo exhibition at the Bernheim-Jeune Gallery in 1922 and later with a biography by André Salmon. For decades critical evaluations of Modigliani’s work were overshadowed by the dramatic story of his tragic life, but he is now acknowledged as one of the most significant and original artists of his time.

River Dargle Flood Defence Scheme.

These images were taken during the third week of November 2016.

 

These are the critical stabilisation works at the Silverbridge site, adjacent to the N11 dual-carriageway:

 

Back in November 2014, we observed bank stabilisation works here involving excavation, repair and building of a support wall structure -- carried out by JONS Construction on behalf of the National Roads Authority.

 

We would occasionally catch sight of this work in the distance. Quite an impressive little piece of structural engineering.

Having built a retaining concave wall, backfilled for solidity, they were also drilling, fixing and sealing ground anchors to pin the entire structure together.

 

flic.kr/p/paSU8U

 

Now we see that further works are being undertaken.

Word has it that extra ‘stabilisation work’ has to be done to protect the integrity of the riverbank. At the section here we can see that there’s not much space between the edge of the rock face and the Armco at the side of the dual-carriageway.

Have yet to determine what precisely that will entail. Serious work to reinforce the side access ramp down to the river.

 

The N11 carriageway runs adjacent to this sunken side of the riverbank -- barely 2 (large) paces divide the two. Even with twin strips of Armco along the roadside, it's perilously close. Traffic speeds along this stretch (maximum speed 100 kmp). Only needs a touch from a heavy vehicle to cause secondary impact, which (worst possible scenario) could result in something going airborne.

 

Working in these confined spaces puts a premium of safety and communication.

 

The guys have hard-filled a working shelf on the riverbed, to allow machinery access to the rockface. Obviously some serious drilling is called for before a form of extra 'pinning' is put in place.

They have sunk a series of hollowed tubes/casings -- obviously to form the foundations of a more extensive structure.

And some investigative work around the transverse buttress of the access bridge, parallel to the heavy-duty pipeline carrying water down from the Vartry reservoir.

 

This was the day when they started to fill those sunken tubes/casings with liquid cement. At a (rough) guess -- I'd say the foundations are sunk to a depth of approx 4+m.

With such secure foundations in place, they would then look to construct a substantial bank of material, and/or retaining wall (similar to that in place further along the roadside bank).

 

As ever, the first attempt at a process brings it's own unique set of issues.

The tight confines of the riverbed obliges the use of a concrete pumping rig with long-boom capacity.

Would you call this a '4 section' unit'? Built on a 4-axle chassis, I'd suggest that it's reach is approx 40+m.

 

The remotely-controlled unit siphons and pumps liquid concrete into the sunken wells. Immediately the guys agitate the mixture to remove any air pockets. Final step is to lower in a pre-formed steel skeleton brace, intended to reinforce the foundation.

 

While we were there, the guys struggled to sink the steel frame into the sunken sleeve. I can't believe it was a problem with alignment -- other similar frames dropped neatly into their appointed sleeve.

Perhaps simply a case that the compressed liquid solution was just inflexible enough to receive the steel skeleton. We left.

 

Will find out later what the outcome was.

 

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