Some stained glass windows at the Basilica of St. Denis

St Denis was an early bishop of Paris.  He was beheaded during one intense period of Roman persecution (c. 250).  Legend says that he then picked up his head and walked some 10 kms to the north, preaching along the way.  His reputed final resting place (the Parisian suburb is now called St Denis) would eventually become the site of the nation's first basilica to be constructed in the Gothic style.  Abbot Suger (d. 1151) was one of the most powerful and influential men under Louis VI and Louis VII.  At one time he served as Regent of France in the king's absence.  He spoke out against the Second Crusade, but late spoke in favour of another crusade.  His primary legacy today, however, is the magnificent basilica dedicated to the patron of Paris and indeed, to the patron of France itself--St Denis.  Having access to royal (federal) funding, he was able to witness the construction of this magnificent basilica during his lifetime.

I begin with the north rose window.  My knowledge of digital photography only enables me to show either architecture or stained glass windows, but not both.  This blog entry is about windows.

Adam reclines in the center of the rose, reclining as if in sleep, which recalls the story in Genesis in which God created woman (and hence all human descendants) from Adam.  Symbolically, everything evolves from Adam--including kings and prophets. 

Other windows closer to eye level reveal interesting details unavailable to the unaided eye when placed high above the worshiper or visitor.  But when I try to see, let alone photograph clerestory windows from ground level, I am too often defeated. I keep thinking that some of these windows meant little to medieval adults needing--but lacking--glasses.

Being a musician (and back at ground level), I enjoy finding musicians at work, even if they are kings with harps.

Or angels with trumpets.

Some windows feature more abstract geometric patterns.  This window's border is built on the symbol of France, the fleur-de-lis, a stylized lily shown over the royal blue. 

Not all medieval-looking stained glass windows are from the middle ages.  This one is dated 1980, but the style imitates some medieval work astonishingly well, in colour, variety of over-painting, and even in aging the glass.

Other modern windows are true to more contemporary styles, this one by the same artist in 1982.

The south rose window was obviously being restored (2013).  Outside, it is covered with scaffolding, inside one sees only plain glass filling the stone filigree which will soon once again support the enormous stained glass panes.

Finally, I enjoyed experimenting with time exposures.  Since I can hardly see the windows anyway, I worked on abstracting their prominent colours.  I suppose this secularizes the windows, which is hardly my intention.

Basilica of St. Denis, Paris (part 2)

In mid May I posted a number of pictures taken at the Basilica of St Denis, Paris (click on St Denis). These additional pictures were taken inside the basilica on a sunny day. One quickly learns there are challenges when attempting to expose correctly for both the darker vaulted ceilings and the brilliant stained glass windows.

The basilica is well known for its architecture and as the burial site for many of France's royalty. For example, the two effigies of Louis XVI and his Austrian wife, Marie Antoinette (sporting a breast well-polished by thousands of curious hands), are nicely silhouetted as one stands facing them. Although I did not want to intrude on the class of students drawing pictures of other effigies throughout the basilica, I was intrigued with reflecting on how some of those once powerful personalities would have reacted to descendants of peasants laughing while drawing their pictures.

Some historians have suggested that the earliest ribbed vaults are those found in the ceiling of the ambulatory which takes us around the apse. The success of these ribbed vaults immediately encouraged other anonymous architects to incorporate them into their expressions of Gothic architecture as it rapidly emerged in France, particularly within a 150km radius of the capital city. As you walk through the basilica, you can see how the vault developed.

Basilica of St Denis, Paris (part 1)

One church I like to visit repeatedly is the former monastic sanctuary now known as the Basilica de St Denis. Flourishing in the 3rd century, St Denis has since become the patron saint for those suffering from headaches, an association which undoubtedly stems from the story of his martyrdom (after being beheaded, he reportedly got up and carried his head to where it/he was eventually buried). He had been instrumental in bringing Christianity to Paris, becomings its first bishop. His importance grew steadily as the centuries progressed, with the church now known as St Denis becoming a major destination for pilgrims. Since the basilica is outside Paris (to the north), few tourists bother with the additional 30-minute ride on the metro, but I prefer this church to any other in Paris.

One of these pictures shows the ribbed vaulting in the ceiling of the northern aisle leading around the apse and to its chapels. This seemingly simple vaulting is something I have admired for decades, for I believe it is a very early example of ribbed vaulting, instrumental in leading into the Gothic style of church architecture which would continue for centuries and is still being imitated today.

The gargoyle within the sanctuary was momentarily lit by strong sunlight streaming through the southern clerestory windows. I have not altered the colours in any way, and as I shot, enjoyed them shifting as clouds drifted by.

I have also been intrigued by the inevitably straight rows of chairs in cathedrals, and cannot leave without taking just a few shots of the sunlight playing on the highly polished wood of the worn chairs.

St Denis has been the burial site for French monarchs ever since King Dagobert (d. 639). On the first anniversary of the beheading of Louis XVI, a mob invaded the basilica and dismantled most of the royal graves, scattering bones at will. Napoleon later had the damage be repaired, but I can still remember standing in the crypt, pondering the stacks of unidentified bones sorted by type. I was therefore disappointed to find that the bones have been removed (for proper burial, for DNA testing to reassemble skeletons?) I include a picture looking up the stone stairway which descends into the large crypt. Millions of pilgrims ascended and descended these steps in order to venerate the saint.

Finally, the structure of St Denis enables one to get very close to the bottoms of some of the stained glass windows in the crypt. I took advantage of this and include several pictures (camera hand-held) of the glass, showing how the ancient painting on the glass is wearing thin but many of the colours remain remarkably true some 800 years later. [Click here for more of my photographs of the Basilica of St Denis.]