Thursday, 2 October 2008

Saint Sulpice





Back from France and in a scanning marathon. Its initially depressing to see the photos and then gets better... but apart from a few instant standout shots my opinions can shift quite a lot on what will or will not be included. At the church of Saint Sulpice in Paris for the Equinox, as detailed in the occult conspiracy blockbuster the Da Vinci code (see the second picture) the church has a gnomon (see the first picture) and is in effect a giant sundial. On the equinox the sun is channeled through a hole and hits a marker on a brass line set into the floor of the church. The circumstances of the installation of the gnomon are explained without reference to CERN or mad monks in J.L. Heilbron's 'The Sun in the Church: Cathedrals as Solar Observatories.' which details how the Catholic Church came to convert four cathedrals into solar observatories during the 17th and 18th centuries, despite the church's reactionary response to scientific advances.

Due to a slight error, still a sore point, I have no picture of the light hitting the marker. It was a gloriously sunny day too! These photography missions I have been taking for my book all revolve around a chance moment of light; at Stonehenge the sun rising over the heel stone, being able to see the eclipse in Siberia after days on a train. This reflects for me the chance nature of the photograph itself- the search for the decisive moment, but through the process and looking at the resulting photos I'm getting to understand that it is about what lies around getting to that moment of chance too. The Catholic Church, and indeed all spiritual belief systems that I am aware of, make use of light, as symbol, and as atmosphere. The calendar is intrinsically linked to the sun of course, and this made its movements of vital importance to the Catholic Church, seeking to define its year of worship. The failure to get the money shot, which given the placement of the line after the church's construction, would not have been terribly interesting visually, gave me a chance to think more about how the church used light to instill reverence and glory into its rituals. Devices such as stained glass, rose windows, and candles result in this controlled cinematography of worship. The final photograph I've posted here was taken in one of the side chapels that line the church, and it was like a pool of 17th century light had been fixed in time. Also its interesting to think ultimately the church is a giant camera obscura..