(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Old buildings  are invariably  money pits when it come to keeping up with the renovations.

Family Kiwidutch live in a 1930′s home that was untouched for years before we bought it and know only too well how the funds we set aside each month in the “house fund” seemingly melt away like water into a sponge when the roof need repairing, the heating needs upgrading and the electrics need redoing.

I can’t begin to imagine the repair bills for a medieval building that’s a zillion times bigger than our apartment  or the scale of the work considering that everything has to be meticulously kept in the style and  a large group of specialists need to be involved.

Sint-Romboutskathedraal (St. Rumbold’s Cathedral) in Mechelen, Belgium was undergoing major repairs whilst I was there so major sections of the north and south Transepts and the Apse (or in other words: the top part of the “t” shape of the church) were closed off to the public.

There’s a sectioned off area in the Nave too, where the tower meets the church and a bright red mini crane was inside, although not actually working when I was inside.

In the apse there were massive chunks of stonework being taken out of the floor, probably in order to strengthen the foundations or the crypts below and I’m yet again stunned at the size of the masonry bits being moved and seriously in awe of how the people who built this place got them into place  in the first place concidering the technology available in the 12th Century.

It’s hard to take beautiful serene photographs when construction equipment is in the way, so I zoomed in instead on some of the detailed pieces of stonework that surround me in all the cathedral’s nooks and crannies.

Often the zoom lens belies the fact that there are barriers and construction equipment just fractionally out of shot,  so I’ll leave you guessing which of the photos were heavily cropped for this very reason. I also suddenly realise that in this particular cathedral someone had an intense fascination with angels.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Sigh, I’m back to drooling over stained glass. I only managed the lower reaches of this magnificent window, but the detail, swoon… the detail… If I believed in reincarnation (sadly I don’t; as one wit stated it better than I can: “that’s carrying recycling a little too far“) but if I did, I think I may have been maker of stained glass windows in a former life… or a stonemason, or a maker of fine iron tracery… or all of the above.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Sometimes as an amatur photographer in a public place, you come across something you really really want to photograph but are severely limited by the location, available space and light.

Such was the case when I saw these amazing heraldic shields inside the south transept of  Sint-Romboutskathedraal (St. Rumbold’s Cathedral) in Mechelen.

The skies were leaden and outside it was bucketing down with rain so the light quality was probably about as bad as it could get, but even so I could see the  quality of the detail in these shields.

My next obstacle was that the entire alcove that contained these was roped off and so I was forced to try and photograph these at a distance and at strange angles.

It’s frustrating to be completely captivated by the thought of how good these images could look, but to be so restricted to trying to achieve them.

Wikipedia’s only note on the shields is that they are “small heraldic shields dating from the Thirty Knights of the Golden Fleece chapter meetings presided in the church by young Philip the Handsome while his Burgundian inheritance was still under guardianship of his father” and my general searching in the Dutch language only kept turning up repeated images of the heraldic images pertaining to the city of Machelen itself.

Since these are some of the oldest items in cathedral and date before 1566, I am dismayed to not find out more about their history, but I suspect that there might possibly be some separate local dialect Vlaamse (Flemish) search terms that I don’t know and this might be why my searches have been unsuccessful so far.

My first photograph gives you a fairly good idea of the kind of light conditions I was facing, and reality can not be more stark than it is here: the human eye picks up a hundred times more detail than the camera lens ever can and these,  even in low light and bad angles I can guarantee that these contain masses more detail than I managed to capture with the camera.

I also use the phrase “jump over the barrier” in a figurative manner… as you can guess, a lady two years on crutches after an accident is probably in quite enough trouble already, and the phrase “if you are in a hole, …stop digging” was a phrase that sprang to mind. (expect I wasn’t “springing” either).

On the “fair weather” visit we made a few weeks afterwards, I simply didn’t have time to go back inside the cathedral, but if we manage a third visit here then I will make a point of trying to do so… and will pray too that the weather will be on my side next time round.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Just a little further down the south aisle of Sint-Romboutskathedraal (St. Rumbold’s Cathedral) is a Blank Madonna. From Wikipedia (link below) I learn:

“There are about 450–500 Black Madonnas in Europe, depending on how they are classified.

A Black Madonna (or Black Virgin)  is a statue or painting of Mary in which she is depicted with dark skin, especially those created in Europe in the medieval period or earlier.

The Black Madonnas are generally found in Catholic areas. The term refers to a type of Marian statue or painting of mainly medieval origin (12C-15C), with dark or black features whose exact origins are not always easy to determine.

The statues are mostly wooden but occasionally stone, often painted and up to 75 cm tall. They fall into two main groups: free-standing upright figures and seated figures on a throne. The pictures are usually icons which are Byzantine in style, often made in 13th or 14th century Italy.

 There are at least 180 Vierges Noires in France, and there are hundreds of non-medieval copies as well. Some are in museums, but most are in churches or shrines and are venerated by devotees. A few are associated with miracles and attract substantial numbers of pilgrims.

 The first notable study of the origin and meaning of the so-called Black Madonnas in English appears to have been presented by Leonard Moss at a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science on Dec. 28, 1952.

Moss broke the images into three categories: 1) dark brown or black madonnas with physiognomy and skin pigmentation matching that of the indigenous population; 2) various art forms that have turned black as a result of certain physical factors such as: deterioration of lead-based pigments; accumulated smoke from the use of votive candles; and accumulation of grime over the ages, and 3) residual category with no ready explanation.”

I took quite a few photographs of the Sint-Romboutskathedraal’s Black Madonna, the icon sits raised above a marble table or altar, on which in turn sit four large candles and a flowering plant. I didn’t feel that it would be appropriate to move the items on the table in order to take better photos so tried to do my best around them.

The metalwork embellished frame that surrounds the Black Madonna depicts stylized rose bushes and leaves and beautiful angels and four saints (or apostles?) in the corners. The Madonna herself is so dark (I think also additionally so with age) that it was really hard to get a photo with decent detail so I concentrated more on the beautiful panels in the frame.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Rumbold’s_Cathedral

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Madonna

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Some people look inside a church or a cathedral and just see the space, empty pews, the silence (or not, depending on the time and place).

Himself only sees emptiness and a pile of grey stone, stained glass windows are something that ha can walk past in moments… for me though, churches and cathedral are places of inspiration and wonder.

The carved stone, the smooth columns that seemingly reach to the heavens, or at least to the beautiful vaulted roof.

Here, in Sint-Romboutskathedraal (St. Rumbold’s Cathedral) in Mechelen, Belgium there is enough to inspire me and keep me happily looking for several hours.

I must say I’ve never seen so many animated angels in a church before… these ones are almost life-sized and they certainly catch my attention.

As usual there are details galore: beautiful wings, flowing gowns… The craftsmanship is stunning and I am in awe.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Rumbold’s_Cathedral

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I’m inside Sint-Romboutskathedraal (St. Rumbold’s Cathedral) in the Belgian city of Mechelen.

Just inside the door and to the left is an amazing piece of  exquisitely carved marble.

It stands very low… almost too low from an aesthetic point of view so I suspect that it probably sat upon some sort of low wall when it was originally made.  (or maybe it was made as a seat?)

I’m instantly drawn to the beautiful stonework because I see acanthus leaf and grape vine forms along with angel and cherub figures.

I adore the gentle swirls of the acanthus, they follow the “golden mean” (also called the “golden ratio”) which is a mathematical formula where the parts fit into the sum within a geometric form.

The formula in present everywhere throughout nature: from shells to leaves and is popular in art because of the  proportions aesthetically pleasing and harmonious to the human eye. This is nature at it’s most graceful and intricate, and the effect is of course exactly the same when copied by human hands into art-forms and designs.

At one end four cherubs pile up sheaves of wheat, at the other another four appear to harvest grapes, a man and a woman (King and Queen?)  kneel at the center surrounded by cherubs supporting a crown, there are two larger cherubs at each end: one with something in a basket and the other with what I think is an early form of beehive (formed in circular rings).

Even though this massive piece of five marble sections fit together perfectly and rest on a low plinth, it’s still very low, and for me still walking with one crutch, rather difficult to get down and photograph. Most of these photos are intended for my own simple enjoyment, because I adore the detail, but I also intend to use them at some future moment as inspiration in my artwork.

I can only urge you if ever you are in the vicinity to take a moment to see this in person, my photographs really do not do this stunning piece of carving justice.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Rumbold’s_Cathedral

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I’m taking a look inside Sint-Romboutskathedraal (St. Rumbold’s Cathedral) in the Belgian city of Mechelen. There is an amazing amount of detail here, but first I want to get an overview of the building as a whole.

The roof  is arched in the gothic style and I am stunned as usual that buildings like this were technically possible so many centuries again as I stand in awe of what was beautifully achieved with so few machines and modern tools that we take for granted today.

From Wikipedia I learned:

The church functions as cathedral since 1559. In the 18th century, each capitals’ surrounding ornament of sculpted cabbage leaves that had been an inspiration for numerous Brabantine Gothic churches, was replaced with a double ring of crops.

In 2005, after engineers had figured out the support capacity of ground and tower, there was talk of accomplishing the entire spire of the original drawings.

Of the original carillon’s set of 49 bells, which are still in working order, each has its own name. Some of the most notable are Salvator, which weighs 8884 kg; Jehsus, which was built in 1460; and the Liberation, which was the newest addition in 1947.

Thirty-nine steps above this instrument, there is a second complete carillon on which concerts are played during the summer months. The total weight of both these carillons is over 80 tonnes and there are 98 bells in all.

Many of the region’s cities have a nickname for their populace.

The Mechlinians are said to have had ancestors running up their great Tower and passing on buckets of water to extinguish a blazing fire behind the perpendicular windows, where it turned out to be mere moonlight through sprightly clouds, hence are called  ”Maneblussers” (‘Moon Extinguishers’).

I had a giggle at that one, I mean it’s one thing to be fooled by a trick of the light,  but surely the act of running for water would have meant a change of location and the realisation that a few logical things might be missing… like real flames, heat and smoke for instance? And did not the additional people who turned up to fight the “blaze” not also realise that there was actually no fire? Fool one person… ok I get that, but a whole crowd? I think they actually got off lightly with the nickname “maneblussers”… if could have been something far worse for their collective stupidity.

In the meantime the arches, the stonework, the graceful columns of the church… all are testament to true and stunning craftsmanship.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Rumbold’s_Cathedral

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The next thing in Mechelen that draws my attention is the imposing “Sint-Romboutskathedraal” (St. Rumbold’s Cathedral) at the end of  the “Grote Markt” (Large Market square).

This archiepiscopal cathedral in Mechelen was dedicated to an assumedly Irish or Scottish Christian missionary and martyr who had founded an abbey nearby and his remains are rumoured to be buried inside the cathedral.

However, examination of the relics honoured as Saint Rumbold’s and kept in a shrine in the retro-choir, showed that the body deposited there to have had a life-span of about 40 years and a date of death estimated to be between 580 and 655, but church tradition claims them to have been from 775 AD.

Therefore unless history has seriously miscalculated the dates,  it’s of course unlikely that the remains that are laid to rest here are those of St. Rumbold.

Building of the church started shortly after 1200 and consecration took place in 1312 after enough of it had been completed to become usable.

From 1324 onwards the flying buttresses and revised choir structure obtained characteristics that would distinct Brabantian Gothic from French Gothic architecture.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

After the city fire of 1342, Master Mason Jean d’Oisy managed repairs and continued this 2nd phase that by his death in 1375 had shaped the prototype for that High Gothic style. His successors finished the vaults of the nave by 1437, and these of the choir by 1451.

During the final phase of 1452-1520, the tower was erected, financed by pilgrims and later by its proprietor, the City. Designed to reach about 167 metres, higher than any church tower would ever attain (the Ulm Minster with 161 metres since the 19th century). The very heavy St. Rumbold’s tower was being built on former wetlands, and although it has only three metre deep foundations, the spot appears to have been well-chosen.

After a few years, in 1454, its chief architect Andries I Keldermans construed the “St.-Lievensmonstertoren” (Saint Livinus’ Monster Tower) in Zierikzee (in the present-day Netherlands), where dreaded leaning or sagging of the tower (now 62 metres but designed for ca. 130) could wreck the church. This concern led to fully separated edifices, a solution as applied in Mechelen.

At both places, in the early 16th century the upper part of the tower became forsaken, not for technical but for financial reasons. St-Rumbold’s should have been topped by a 77-metre spire but only seven became built, hence the unusual shape. A deliberately weak connection closed the gap with the church upon finishing the construction.

St. Rumbold’s Tower The flat-topped silhouette of the cathedral’s tower is easily recognizable and dominates the surroundings.

For centuries it held the city documents, served as a watchtower, and could sound the fire alarm. Despite its characteristic incompleteness, this World Heritage monument  is 97.28 metres high and its 514 stairs are mounted by thousands of tourists every year, following the footsteps of Louis XV, Napoleon, and King Albert I.

Again I have combined the wet weather photos with the fine weather ones (what a difference a few weeks makes!) so that you can get a feel of what the cathedral was like on both of our visits here. One thing I have learned from finding out that it took roughly 320 years to construct and finish this amazing building: These people had amazing long term vision that encompassed not only their entire lifetimes, but also those of half a dozen generations after them.

They all had faith that the finished article would be completed, beautiful and would last for centuries to come and for future communities to use and enjoy, even though they also knew they would never see it completed themselves.  It’s an amazing attitude that the world could do well to emulate more in these modern times.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sint-Lievensmonstertoren

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Rumbold’s_Cathedral

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Himself and I spent our first visit to Mechelen scurrying as fast as possible out of the pouring rain, and since we had started out from the Hague at 7:15 a.m.  to beat the traffic jams we were now looking forward to an early lunch.

On the central square we spy a place called “Brasserie de Schoenmet” and are pleased to duck inside.

Himself originally wanted just a coffee whilst I ordered a tea and a toasted sandwich,  but when the toasted sandwich arrived, there were two instead of one, so Himself had one after all to help me out.

It was Euro  8,-  for toasted sandwiches and a miniscule salad on the side, so it certainly wasn’t cheap,  but at least for that  price we got two instead of the one we thought we’d ordered.

We were a bit wet and rather cold so we had eaten the toasted sandwiches before I remembered that I hadn’t taken a photograph of them… c’est la vie. It was a nice enough place and we appreciated the warm food and drinks. Soon it was time to step outside into the rain again and then we would have to decide what we wanted to do next whilst waiting for our friends to finish their appointment. (On the second trip I got some better photos of the outside, with sunshine).

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)