Church styles – a beginning.

 

Tiles from Muchelney AbbeyThe invasion of 1066 was a crusade.  William, Duke of Normandy, persuaded Pope Alexander II to approve his attempt on the English throne because of his reputation as a supporter of the Church and a builder of monasteries.

Following the conquest the next century saw the majority of medieval churches being founded.  Church building had begun in England circa 900 but the Normans often rebuilt – perhaps to leave their mark on the landscape they now owned.   Consequentially there aren’t many Saxon churches – though there’s always the possibility of a surprising remnant tucked away in a corner, or in the case of Ripon Cathedral, down in the crypt.

Early Norman  churches, though sometimes built from stone, were often wooden.  The Domesday Book of 1086 notes some churches but is not a comprehensive audit of churches and monastic buildings. From 1100 onwards parish churches were rebuilt and enlarged, nearly always in stone.  The later medieval period saw churches being enlarged depending upon the wealth of each congregation and noble patronage.  Following the death of Thomas Becket in 1170, Jenkins makes the point, that many parish churches and monastic foundations were supported by Henry II.

Many churches rebuilt on older sites of worship used pre-existing dressed stone as well as carved stones dating from Roman, Saxon and Viking periods of habitation.  Hexham Abbey is a particularly good example of this.

 

The last quarter of the twelfth century saw architectural change with the arrival from France of the Gothic and the pointed arch.  Churches and cathedrals became lighter and airier as well as becoming more ornate.  Masons perfected fan vaulting and flying buttresses.  Jenkins comments on the windows.  It was during this period that rose windows and fanciful tracery became an essential part of any new church of note.

 

The Black Death left its mark on church buildings and so too did wool sales. Styles changed from Gothic to Perpendicular once again the style is best shown by the shape of the windows and the size of the churches.  Perpendicular tends to be big with tall towers.  They also have lots of tombs and monuments – largely on account of folk getting themselves needlessly slaughtered during the Wars of the Roses.  This is of course rather a simplification but I did title the post a beginning.  Norman and Gothic are styles that I recognise quite happily but  I will have to confer with my consultant about later styles  and no doubt do much more reading.

The Tudor period saw huge changes to the patterns of worship and belief.  The interiors of churches underwent huge changes as the bright colours of the medieval period gave way to more austere whitewash of puritan belief.  Henry VIII also encouraged the destruction of anything to do with Thomas Becket – taking his distant ancestor’s view that the cleric was a treacherous malcontent.

The Jacobean period saw the introduction of pews and pulpits as well as the return of altars which had been ripped out during the Reformation to be replaced with communion tables- to this day pre-Reformation tone altar slabs are being uncovered from the places where they were hidden when news of Protestant reform arrived ahead of the king’s men .

The nineteenth century saw many churches being restored  and extended as well as new parish churches being built in industrial areas.  The Gothic style was much favoured during this period.  Seventeenth century box pews fell into disfavour and were often ripped out.

Green Men

greenmanGreen men, sometimes known as Jack-in-the-Green, are strange leafy faces. Sometimes the face depicted is very clearly human sprouting leaves, often oak, from their mouths. Other green men are more foliage than person or can be seen wearing leafy masks that cover most of their features. If not oak leaves then the foliage often looks like hawthorn.  Sometimes the leaves are realistic and on other occasions they are much more stylized. In some carvings the green man is alone, in others his foliage has attracted the attention of birds and strange beasts.  Sometimes, like the capital from York Minster shown at the start of this blog, the green man is triple-faced.  There’s a similar, though less friendly looking, tri-faced green man on a misericord in Cartmel  Abbey the image at the end).  It’s not just men either, beasts including cats sprout leaves from their stone perches in churches and cathedrals across the country.

 

They occur in Norman buildings (Romanesque) and the later Gothic phase of cathedral architecture. Each succeeding epoch since has flirted with foliage figures, not least the Victorians. In fact, closer investigation reveals that green men have made their appearance back into antiquity.

 

No one is quite sure what they symbolise in the context of church, cathedral or abbey architecture. It often seems reasonable to make links with fertility, May Day celebrations and harvests as well as to forest gods.  The triple headed green men may have Celtic connections.  Though quite why so many Romanesque and Gothic masons across Europe took it into their heads to sneak older belief systems into the heart of Christian worship is a matter for some debate.

MacDermott  (Explore Green Men) observes that the images in churches were visual stories to remind the congregation about the dangers of sin and the importance of repentance as well as depicting images symbolising the life of Christ.  Medieval spirituality was a complicated affair.

As is often the case, Christian association may have subsumed earlier pagan beliefs. MacDermott suggests the in the medieval mind the cross on which Christ was crucified was a living tree.  Trees are best symbolized by leaves. Thus leaves are symbolic of redemption. She also looks at the links that might be made with Jesse. Many churches have Jesse windows showing his ancestry to King David and from there to Christ – Isaiah uses tree imagery to talk about the prophecy of the Messiah, “a Branch shall grow out of his roots,” Isaiah11.1-2. There are many other references to trees and leaves in the Bible including Ecclesiasticus. She also discusses the work of medieval theologians who drew on the world around them to explain their beliefs.

 

Some of the best examples, certainly the most prolific, can be found in Southwell Minster. They turn up as the decoration for capitals, bosses, fonts, bench ends and on the misericords as well. (Sadly I had only just started taking photographs when I last visited the minster and when I looked back through my photos discovered that none of them passed muster.)

Most cathedrals have a greenman lurking somewhere and sometimes remains hidden for a very long time. There is a green man in Cleeve Abbey but no one spotted it until the wooden timbers were preserved and restored at the beginning of the twenty-first century! I couldn’t see it even though there was a sign pointing out where it was hidden.

greenmanmisericordcartmel

 

Roof Bosses

roof bossAs medieval builders became more confident they built their buildings higher and airier as though they were soaring heavenwards. This was a tricky thing to do architecturally speaking – the last thing that the average medieval bishop wanted was to be haranguing his congregation only to have the roof come crashing down round his ears.

The outcome was Gothic stonework called fan vaulting that reminds me of an avenue of elegant stone trees spreading out their branches to make a canopy.

 

My technical adviser (yes – that’s you Adam if you’re reading this) explained to me that you can create large spans that open up the space with fan vaulting.  Each rib acts like an arch, meaning that the weight which might otherwise be disastrous effectively adds strength to the structure.  Therefore you require fewer columns and can achieve taller buildings.  You could compare fan vaulting to an egg-shell, in the sense that it gains its strength in its unity, it is form-active, so therefore less bulk is required for it to be structurally stable. The first fan vault that is still standing in the world can be found in Gloucester Cathedral.

 

A boss, which is after all what this particular blog is about, is a block of stone or wood, found on ceilings, at the intersections of the ribs of a vault. The more ribs that there are in a ceiling, both structural and aesthetic, the more opportunity there was for medieval masons to produce intricately carved roof bosses.

In Tewkesbury Abbey there are approximately 250 roof bosses many of them telling the life of Christ. The cathedral boasting most bosses is Norwich. Tewkesbury Abbey

Bosses may be foliage filled, depict green men with their mouths sprouting foliage, have birds, beasts and fabulous creatures as well as depicting scenes from the Bible – in fact the images on roof bosses depend on the imagination of the men who carved them.   In the aftermath of York Minster’s terrible fire in 1984, the viewers of Blue Peter were asked to design some new roof bosses so one of them depicts Man landing on the moon.

 

Originally the bosses would have been painted but in the aftermath of the Reformation roof bosses often returned to the natural colours of wood and stone – some within reach of iconoclasts have lost their heads and hands. However, the majority of roof bosses are so high that the carvings remain in tact and there are often hints of the original paint as well.

 

Of course the downside of roof bosses is that you end up with a crick in the neck and lots of blurred photographs where your hands have shaken too much while you’ve been holding the camera at arm’s length – more photographic aerobic exercise.   However, some cathedrals provide a tilted mirror on wheels so that visitors don’t need to do themselves a mischief to see the ceiling in all its glory. Provided that there aren’t lots of grubby paw prints on the mirror (and I have been known to clean them off) it is much easier to take a picture of the reflection of the ceiling than of the ceiling itself.

 

This blog contains three images. The first shows a roof boss depicting an angel playing a musical instrument that has been removed from the ceiling of Tewkesbury Abbey – there are several dotted around the building.  The second image shows the ceiling of the nave in Tewkesbury. The ceiling has been restored to the way it would have looked before the Reformation.  Medieval congregations must have been filled with awe when they entered vast colour filled spaces like this one – I certainly was.  The final image – thanks to ‘he who is occasionally obeyed’- shows a boss in close-up in situ.

Tewkesbury angel