reorganisation and destruction of irish catholic churches

@ake wrote:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/58086761@N00/474788951/in/set-72157600141174376/ Look here for an exampl e of remarkably fine plastering in a medieval church. The interior of the nave however is not plastered but in consolation the rubblework is about as attractive as could be.

Speaking of ‘rubblework’ look at the masonry break in Clonamery church http://www.flickr.com/photos/58086761@N00/477261589/in/set-72157600157077521/ How infinitely superior the pre-norman tradition was aesthetically.

Re pre-Norman stone work do not forgt the cyclopian stone work at Ardpatrick in Co. Limerick.

Today was the closing date for submission to the planning application made to Cork County Council for the famous alterations to Liscarroll church. Hopefully, somo managed to get their objections in on tine. We now await the outcome!

Cork County Council’s Planning department to-day confirmed that some 13 submissions had been received by them in conncetion with a planning application to wreck the interior of St. Joseph’s Church, Liscarroll, Co. Cork. May 28 is the due date for a decision on the County Council’s pert. We shall see what they will come up with – hopefully it will be a bit better than Cobh Urban District Council.

Thirteen submissions would be managable in a half-day……

Here we have an interesting restoration project on hands following the destruction (by fire) of the Abbey Church of St Michel de Kergonan in Brittany last month:

http://saintmichelkergonan.monsite.orange.fr/index.jhtml

Here is the rototype for the first statue: Raphael’s Sixtine Madonna of 1513/1514

The canvas with the Virgin, Child and Saints Sixtus and Barbara, usually called the Sistine Madonna, is characterized by an imaginary space created by the figures themselves. The figures stand on a bed of clouds, framed by heavy curtains which open to either side. The Virgin actually appears to descend from a heavenly space, through the picture plane, out into the real space in which the painting is hung. The gesture of St Sixtus and the glance of St Barbara seem to be directed toward the faithful, whom we imagine beyond the balustrade at the bottom of the painting. The Papal tiara, which rests on top of this balustrade, act as a bridge between the real and pictorial space.

The painting was probably intended to decorate the tomb of Julius II, for the holy pope Sixtus was the patron saint of the Della Rovere family and St Barbara and the two winged ‘genii’ (visible at the bottom of the picture space) symbolize the funeral ceremony. The canvas was located in the convent of St Sixtus in Piacenza and was later donated by the monks to Augustus III, King of Saxony. It was carried to Moscow after the Second World War, and was later returned to Dresden.

Generations of visitors to the Gemäldegalerie in Dresden have been deeply impressed by the way in which Raphael portrayed the Madonna in this painting. It has been reproduced over and over again, and almost everyone is familiar with the putti leaning on the balustrade. The Madonna appears from behind a curtain, confident and yet hesitant. The curtain gives the illusion of hiding her figure from the eyes of the onlooker and at the same time of being able to protect Raphael’s painting.

Here is Duerer’s woork print of the Annunciation which probably has some influence on the annunciation panel in Kildare.

@Praxiteles wrote:

Here is the rototype for the first statue: Raphael’s Sixtine Madonna of 1513/1514

The canvas with the Virgin, Child and Saints Sixtus and Barbara, usually called the Sistine Madonna, is characterized by an imaginary space created by the figures themselves. The figures stand on a bed of clouds, framed by heavy curtains which open to either side. The Virgin actually appears to descend from a heavenly space, through the picture plane, out into the real space in which the painting is hung. The gesture of St Sixtus and the glance of St Barbara seem to be directed toward the faithful, whom we imagine beyond the balustrade at the bottom of the painting. The Papal tiara, which rests on top of this balustrade, act as a bridge between the real and pictorial space.

The painting was probably intended to decorate the tomb of Julius II, for the holy pope Sixtus was the patron saint of the Della Rovere family and St Barbara and the two winged ‘genii’ (visible at the bottom of the picture space) symbolize the funeral ceremony. The canvas was located in the convent of St Sixtus in Piacenza and was later donated by the monks to Augustus III, King of Saxony. It was carried to Moscow after the Second World War, and was later returned to Dresden.

Generations of visitors to the Gemäldegalerie in Dresden have been deeply impressed by the way in which Raphael portrayed the Madonna in this painting. It has been reproduced over and over again, and almost everyone is familiar with the putti leaning on the balustrade. The Madonna appears from behind a curtain, confident and yet hesitant. The curtain gives the illusion of hiding her figure from the eyes of the onlooker and at the same time of being able to protect Raphael’s painting.

Thanks for the informative description, Prax. I did not know that the patron saint of the della Rovere family was St Sixtus. This explains why Pope Julius II’s uncle took the name Sixtus IV upon his accession to the Chair of St Peter. St Barbara is a logical co-patroness for Julius on account of his devotion to war. St Barbara is the patroness of war. She features prominently in this capacity, for example, in the National War Museum in Ottawa, Canada. Julius might have done better to treat her with more devotion, as her intercession was in little evidence during his many (expensive) defeats. He so depleted the papal coffers by his penchant for battle that his tomb – slated to be the centrepiece of the ‘new’ St Peter’s – was never completed. What is recognised now as Julius II’s ‘tomb’ in the church of S Pietro in Vincoli (across town not far from St Mary Major)is a considerably pared-down version of the original plan. The Moses, so lifelike that Michelangelo struck it on the knee with a mallet as he shouted “Speak!” was but one of a series of great statues designed to adorn the tomb. Several unfinished statues of ‘slaves’ are on display at the Accademia which houses Michelangelo’s David.

It was commonly held that Julius II was more at home riding into battle in the saddle of his charger than celebrating Mass at the high altar of St Peter’s. One can scarcely believe that Sixtus and his bellicose nephew were Franciscans!! [There may be some doubt about whether Julius was ever a Franciscan, but Sixtus certainly was]

The story of Julius II’s tomb is instructive. Although Julius’ “tomb” is in the church of san Pietro in Vincoli (St Peter-in-Chains), the pontiff is actually buried in an obscure spot beneath St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican. It is marked by discreet brass lettering set into the floor over by the pipe organ donated by Pope Pius XII – on the viewer’s right as one looks at the Altar of the Chair. You’ll have to move a few stacks of chairs or benches, and perhaps a barricade or two, in order to view it. Sic transit gloria mundi.

The story serves as a cautionary tale against bold bishops whose schemes of self-aggrandisement and the vainglorious attempt to leave behind them a lasting monument of (or TO) themselves in the house of God only point up their own folly. As bishops age and advance inexorably toward their particular judgement, it behooves them to devote themselves more assiduously to works of piety and the frequent consideration of The Four Last Things [death, judgement, heaven, and hell] rather than to tinkering with architecture and dabbling in exotic renovations that they may never see either to completion or to payment. Clearly Julius II was not the only prelate “out of touch” with his constituents and his bankers. Read Erasmus’ hilarious send-up of Julius’ approach to St Peter at the Pearly Gates. It parodies the ancient Roman satirist’s Apocolacintosis [or Pumpkinification] rather than apotheosis of the Emperor Claudius. Erasmus’ satire is titled Iulius exclusus or Julius Locked Out of Heaven. Take along a copy to read under a plane tree with a nice glass of wine on your next picnic to Cobh.

Apparently, the cause of the white powder falling from the vault of the arcades is a continuous water ingress that is leaking onto the portland stone. When it drys out, it pulverises and falls as white powder onto the seats and floor in the South arcade. Can anyone say how long it takes before the vault collapses?

These are excellent pictures of a typical interior layout of a church in Bavaria dating from c. 1730. Note the altar at either side of the chancel entrance. The features derives from the time when the chancel would have had a a rood screen closing off the High Altar and would have been used by a conrfaternity or other pious group. The same feature is to be seen in the sancturay lay out of Brother O’Riordan’s churches. Following the Spanish custom, he brought these lateral altars into the sancturay and had them flank the High Altar. The church in Dunmanway still has all three altars intact athough they are not the original altars – but you can see what was originally intended. The sutccoed sunburst on the sanctuary ceiling is a nice feature and, of course, intelligently placed. Being Bavaria and having the Denkmalshutzamt, it is not possible to demolish the interior or strip out the fittings and furnishings. Typically, permission has been given to put stuff in – including all those Finnish Alto stools and the square box altar. Please, may we have some more….