Wednesday 25 March 2015

Gargoyles and Restoration

The concept of restoration is rapidly falling out of fashion in favour of conservation. The days of Viollet-le-Duc's personal re-imagining of medieval architecture seem relegated to the past, and now conservators are often explicit in the ways in which they conserve a building or work of art, revealing the modern conservators hand rather than attempt to disguise it.

Gargoyle by Viollet-le-Duc at Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris

There are many questions at the heart of the resoration/conservation debate. Firstly, to restore a building assumes restoring it to an 'original' form, which does not account for the way buildings age, develop, grow or shrink. To take an example from painting, many oil painters knew that the varnish on their paintings would darken over time, and thus would compensate to adjust for this change over time by brightening the pre-varnished paintings. Restorers would then remove every layer up to and including the original varnish to reach 'the artists hand', i.e. his true intention. This completely ignores the painting's life beyond the point of creation. The same can be said for buildings. 

Secondly, with decaying and crumbling buildings, intervention is often unavoidable and parts need to be rebuilt, sculptures replaced, etc. The question then is whether a viewer wants to be fooled into imagining the restored building to be completely aesthetically 'original' in style, in the manner of a Viollet-le-Duc or should modern additions be explicitly obvious?

                                                              

Chichester Cathedral, 
exterior view of the south side aisle, south transept, and tower

This question has resonance for Chichester Cathedral where I observed these two guys peering down at me from an exterior side-wall:


Sculptures from Chichester Cathedral

They are delightfully humourous scultures, and although modern in relation to the building in both age and style, they represent the type of whimsy and humour, and also vulgarity, often at play on medieval buildings:

Examples of Romanesque 'humourous' sculpture

Perhaps some may view the Chichester gargoyles as jarring in the context of a medieval cathedral, but surely it is better to have something there representative of the spirit of medieval carvings instead of either a crumbling sculpture or modern fake. In the case of Chichester, I admire the medieval whimsy and playfulness at play in the sculptures, but I am under no illusion that they are by the hands of a modern sculpture. I enjoy not being duped into reading medieval authenticity and originality when there is none, and I enjoy the enduring skill of sculptors to the present day.

To end on a fun note, we may not have developed much further in style from our medieval designers. Any fan of Kilpeck Church and/or vintage early 90's LucasArts video games may appreciate this:

Left: Sculpture from The Church of St Mary and St David, Kilpeck, Herefordshire, 12th century
Right: Sam and Max Hit the Road [LucasArts]

Monday 23 March 2015

Richard III and Thomas Cromwell

How does Richard III fit with Thomas Cromwell, you ask? Well, it's a question of revisionist history and emotional detachment (or a lack thereof) in my humble opinion. Here, I should point out that I am a medievalist, with a specialisation in the twelfth century, and these are just personal thoughts that I have noted or been thinking about for a while now.

I admit that I was fascinated watching the first Channel 4 documentary about the discovery of Richard III's bones and the science behind proving it was both scholarly, scientific, and wholly engaging. Yet, as a historian, I was both baffled and bemused by the emotions and intent at play from the woman at the centre of the hunt - Philippa Langley - and the Richard III society more broadly, who sought to restore Richard III's character from the "villainy" imposed on him by Tudor propaganda and Shakespeare. And while initially they sought to restore Richard III from the famous hunchback depiction, the discovery of his scoliosis may prove that some of the historical depictions of him were correct, if not exaggerated.  I am all for balance and nuance when it comes to how we write or depict controversial or famous figures in the past. But at what point does the urge for balance result in an imbalance in the other direction?

I am a fan of Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, and especially enjoyed the BBC series with its nuanced and deeply personal depiction of Thomas Cromwell by Mark Rylance. And while I appreciated and admired the attempt to understand Cromwell, I wholeheartedly disagreed with the depiction of Thomas More who seems grossly denigrated in order to promote Cromwell. So, although Cromwell may now appear a more balanced figure to many people, More's historical standing comes at the expense.

I feel a similar sentiment with Richard III and the emotional rhetoric attached to his re-burial at Leicester. I was astonished that people were queuing for four hours to view his coffin. Perhaps it is as a mark of respect, such as those according to monarchs or leaders who lie in state, but surely we can only respect Richard III through a revisionist approach to him as a historical figure? Without further evidence surrounding issues such as the Princes in the Tower, we cannot say one way or the other whether he was 'good' or 'bad' (as basic, diametric, and polarising as those terms are). And if he is still to be considered 'bad' or a 'villain' this reburial accords such an honour to one solely based on nobility, royalty, and not any sort of merit.

The cynic in me sees this whole reburial issue as one of PR, I'm sorry to say. I do not judge those who queue to see the coffin, but seek to understand the motivation. In the end, perhaps, it is just the lure of infamous figures and infamous histories. One only needs to visit the Tower of London to see people's emotional reactions to stories and places related to Anne Boleyn. Perhaps I just find it difficult to remove my historian's hat!