The Nuremberg Chronicle

The first photograph is from a copy of the Nuremberg Chronicle held at Chetham's Library, actually photographed at the window seat where Marx and Engels used to meet up, and that's the shadow of the window of the oldest medieval settlement in the North of England over it, that is! The Nuremberg Chronicle is one of the oldest printed books, an incunabulum. (I make no apologies for using wikipedia to reference to here, although I use to bollock my students for using it as their primary essay source, as it is like the giant index in the sky- a really good place to glean the general facts of something!) This copy of the chronicle is particularly interesting as it has been bound with a handwritten translation done in Warrington, in the North of England. I, like many in England, assumed that Warrington had been invented as a place at some point in the late eighties as its primary topographical feature are roundabouts and Ikea, and there used to be this advert trying to persuade people that it was a sensible place to house a business in (I think) with this guy with a Chinese accent going 'Warrrington- Runcorn, its the heart of the nation!

I digress, but it astonishing to learn that Warrington was an ancient seat of learning and almost had one of the first universities in the world. This early Renaissance period has become increasingly important to my understanding of the photographs I took at Saint-Sulpice on the day of the Equinox. The time was such a mash up of superstition colliding with organised religion, and the Catholic Church subsuming pagan beliefs. This is evident, for instance, in the very architecture of Saint-Sulpice, the second image (both of these quoted in 'Discovering the Vernacular Landscape' by John Brinckerhoff):-

'There is very little doubt that during the entire Middle Ages there existed the belief in a distinct relationship between stone and stars'

Peter Fingesten, The Eclipse of Symbolism

'Today when the original treatment of stone has disappeared, we are only occasionally aware of it, chiefly there where old stained glass windows still gleam and where their light transforms the stone. We should think of the Cathedral not only in terms of colour, but as being suffused with the atmosphere of light….the building should ‘shine’, ‘sparkle’, ‘glitter’, ‘dazzle’…it would however be false to say that the Cathedral denies its stone character. It keeps it throughout, only it idealizes it by giving it a gem like, transfigured, vibrant, crystalline aspect'

Hans Sedlmayr, Die Enstehung der Kathedrale

.

The role of printing in the shift of understanding during this time is, of course, immense, and this particular copy of the book seems to me, to beautifully represent the transition.

Prayers

Saint-Sulpice Tripych

Image © thismediathing.com

A pleasant surprise at Saint Sulpice was the LED triptych installed by artists Jim Campbell and Benjamin Bergery, working under the name 'thismediathing'. The LED installation gives a very low light working in harmony with the church interior and the imagery relates to Biblical themes, filtered through through the reinterpretation of Renaissance representation. The faces are blurred and the content ambiguous, yet contextualised through the location. The dim light of the LEDs and the church interior emphasising the remote reverence of the work. Churches make fine galleries, as I suppose was one of their original functions... Saint Sulpice itself also housing some stunning painting by Delacroix.

Catholic Sun Worship Devil YouTube Frenzy

I find the Catholic Church's absorption of pagan beliefs and symbolism interesting, but some people are a bit more paranoid about it, or even that it is evidence that the devil won the battle between good and evil and Christianity is a trick to get us all to worship the Sun- sadly I can't locate this particular entry to the youetube canon so I'm posting a more reasoned argument...

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..