Praxiteles

Here we have a study on the work of the Byzantine Institute and its restoration of the mosaics in Hagia Sophia:

http://www.doaks.org/publications/doaks_online_publications/Sophia.pdf

The History of the Hagia Sophia

The Byzantine Church of Hagia Sophia stands atop the first hill of Constantinople at the tip of the historic peninsula, surrounded by the waters of the Sea of Marmara, the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn on three sides. It was built by Justinian I between 532 and 537 and is located in close proximity to the Great Palace of the Emperors, the Hippodrome, and the Church of Hagia Irene. The third known church to be built at its site since 360, the Justinian church replaced the smaller basilica built by Theodosius II in 415, which burnt down in the Nika riots against Justinian I and Empress Theodora. Beginning construction immediately after suppressing the revolt, Justinian commissioned physicist Isidoros of Miletus, and mathematician Anthemios of Thrales (today’s Aydin) to build a church larger and more permanent than its precedents to unify the church and reassert his authority as the emperor. There is little that remains from the earlier churches beside the baptistery and the skeuophylakion. The skeuophylakion, a round building that houses the patriarchal treasure, is located off the east corner and the baptistery, which was converted into an Ottoman tomb in 1639, stands to the southwest.

The grand dome of the Hagia Sophia, an impressive technical feat for its time, is often thought to symbolize the infinity of the cosmos signified by the Holy Soul to which the church was dedicated. It took five years to reconstruct the dome after it collapsed in an earthquake in 557. The new dome, which is taller and braced with forty ribs, was partially rebuilt after damage in the 859 and 989 earthquakes. Plundered during the Latin invasion following the Forth Crusade in 1204, the church was restored under Andronicos II during Palaeologan rule. The great southeast arch was reconstructed after the 1344 earthquake. As the Cathedral of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople for over a thousand years, with the brief exception of the Latin occupation, the Hagia Sophia was the center of Eastern Christianity from 360 to the Ottoman conversion. Its importance as the center of religious authority in the Byzantine capital was compounded with its role as the primary setting for state rituals and pageantry. The Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1453, which put an end to the Byzantine Empire, began the era of Islamic worship in the holy structure, which Mehmed II converted into a mosque immediately after his conquest.

Known then on as the Ayasofya Mosque, the Hagia Sophia remained the Great Mosque of the Ottoman capital until its secularization under the Turkish Republic In 1934. Little was modified during the initial conversion when a mihrab, a minber and a wooden minaret were added to the structure. Mehmed II built a madrasa near the mosque and organized a waqf for its expenses. Extensive restorations were conducted by Mimar Sinan during the rule of Selim II; the original sultan’s lodge was added at this time. Mimar Sinan built the Tomb of Selim II to the southeast of the mosque in 1577 and the tombs of Murad III and Mehmed III were built next to it in the 1600s. Mahmud I, who ordered a restoration of the mosque in 1739, added an ablution fountain, Koranic school, soup kitchen and library, making the mosque the center of a social complex. Perhaps the most well known restoration of the Hagia Sophia was completed between 1847-49 during the rule of Abdülmecid II, who invited Swiss architects Gaspare and Guiseppe Fossati to renovate the building. In addition to consolidating the dome and vaults and straightening columns, the two architects brothers revised the decoration of the exterior and the interior. The discovery of the figural mosaics after the secularization of Hagia Sophia, was guided by the descriptions of the Fossati brothers who uncovered them a century earlier for cleaning and recording. An earlier record of the Hagia Sophia mosaics is found in the travel sketches of Swedish engineer Cornelius Loos from 1710-1711.

The period of systematic study, restoration and cleaning of Hagia Sophia, initiated by the Byzantine Institute of the United States and the Dumbarton Oaks Field Committee in the 1940s, still continues to our day. Archaeological research led by K. J. Conant, W. Emerson, R. L. Van Nice, P.A. Underwood, T. Whittemore, E. Hawkins, R. J. Mainstone and C. Mango have illuminated different aspects related to the history, structure and decoration of the Justinian church. A. M. Schneider and F. Dirimtekin after him have excavated remains of the earlier churches outside the Justinian church. A colloquium convened at Princeton University in 1989 has led the way towards a computer-based structural modeling of the church directed by Prof. A. Çakmak. This work has provided the basis for a new restoration project underway since 1995 that focuses on structural monitoring to gauge long-term stability of the structure along with historical restoration. The Hagia Sophia was included in the annual list of 100 most endangered monuments published by the World Monuments Fund in 1996 and in 1998, to secure funds for continued work. Considered a significant influence on the conception of classical Ottoman architecture, the Hagia Sophia is open to visitors as a public museum.

The Architecture of the Hagia Sophia

The Hagia Sophia is a domed basilica, oriented on the northwest-southeast axis. Entered from the northwest through an outer and inner narthex, the church consists of a rectangular nave flanked by an aisle and gallery on the sides and an apsidal sanctuary, projecting southeast.

Each narthex comprises nine cross-vaulted bays; the narthexes were originally preceded by a large atrium enclosed by a colonnade, portions of which were still standing in the 1870s. The inner narthex is taller than, and about twice as wide as, the outer narthex, and has a second level linked to the nave galleries. It is lit by a row of clerestory windows to the northwest. Passages attached to either end of the inner narthex give access to the gallery. The passage to the southwest also served as the ceremonial entrance for emperors; its entryway is adorned with a pair of elaborate bronze doors with 9th century monograms. Its inner door has a 10th century mosaic in its lunette depicting Emperors Constantine and Justinian offering models of Constantinople and Hagia Sophia to enthroned Virgin and Christ. While the outer narthex is largely devoid of decoration, the walls of the inner narthex are lined with polychrome marble panels and bordered by a deep continuous frieze and its vaults are adorned with mosaics with geometric motifs and crosses on a gold background.

Nine doors lead from the inner narthex into the nave. The tall entryway at the center is called the Imperial Door and is crowned by a mosaic depicting an emperor prostrating before Christ Pantocrator, flanked by portraits of the Virgin and Archangel Gabriel. The nave is roughly twice as long as it is wide without the flanking galleries and it measures 73.5 meters long and 69.5 meters wide including the galleries. It has four niches at the corners, which are carved into the aisle and galleries. A grand dome, raised 56 meters from the ground, crowns the nave. Its forty windows, located between supporting ribs at the base, give the impression of floating. At its apex, originally adorned with a mosaic of Christ Pantocrator, is a calligraphic medallion quoting the Light Verse (24:35), inscribed by Mustafa Izzet Efendi during the Fossati restoration. The weight of the dome is carried on pendentives and four colossal piers, which are connected by arcades separating the aisle and galleries. The aisle is significantly taller than the galleries, where the intercolumnal width has been kept smaller to maintain the proportion. To the northwest and southeast, single arches braced by large semi-domes receive the lateral loads and distribute it to three smaller semi-domes that crown the nave niches and – to the southeast – the sanctuary apse.

The length of clear span afforded by the combination of the central dome and the semi-domes was unprecedented at the time of Hagia Sophia’s construction. To the northeast and southwest, in contrast, heavy double arches and pier buttresses were erected to counter the thrust of the dome. The disparity of the type and strength of structural support provided by the these two supporting systems has in time caused the elliptical deformation of the dome base, whose diameter varies from 32.2 meters on the longitudinal axis to 32.7 meters along the transverse axis. Other factors, such as haste of original construction and uneven repair of vaulting through the centuries have multiplied the effects of the deformation, also visible on the piers and the grand arches. Flying buttresses were added to the northwest façade as early as the 9th or 10th century, supplemented by the construction of buttresses to the south and southeast by Andronicus II in early 13th century, amended by the Ottomans. These additions, among others, have transformed the exterior appearance of the church and the quality of light inside the nave and galleries.

The nave is paved with marble panels, which were revealed after the prayer rugs were removed in 1934. Its porphyry and verde antico columns, which were gathered from pagan temples of Western Anatolia, are crowned with elaborately carved capitals that bear the monogram of Justinian I. The decorative cornices separating the aisle, gallery and clerestory levels brace the structure and provide lateral support. There are no figural mosaics remaining of the original decoration of the church, which lasted well into the rule of Justinius II (565-578) after the completion of the structure. Of the mosaics set after the Iconoclastic era (726-842), some were lost to earthquakes, water damage and, most recently, tourists. The oldest mosaic in the church is found in the apse semi-dome and depicts the Virgin and the Child. Two angels are depicted on the semi-dome arch; the one on the right, mostly intact, is Archangel Gabriel. Above, to the left and right, mosaics of local saints lined up below clerestory windows and frescoes depicting Seraphim adorn the pendentives. A large amount of mosaics remains covered in the dome, whose roofing was recently renovated to prevent water damage during their conservation. Some of the most famous mosaics, including a Deisis panel and imperial portraits, are found in the southwest gallery, which was used for religious meetings and ceremonies.

There are many Ottoman additions visible in the nave, many of which were transformed during the Fossati restoration. Among earlier Ottoman work are two 16th century tile panels to the right of the mihrab, which depict the Holy Ka’aba and the other, shows the tomb of the Prophet. A band of blue tiles with Koranic inscriptions, signed 1607, wrap the sanctuary apsis below the window level. The marble minbar also believed to be of this period. There are four marble platforms abutting the piers; these and the muezzin’s platform (müezzin mahfili) were built by Murad III in late 16th century. Murad IV (1612-1640) added the marble preacher’s pulpit (kürsü), located next to the eastern niche. Working between 1847-49 under Abdülmecid II, The Fossati brothers rebuilt the mihrab and the sultan’s lodge in the contemporary style and renovated the sultan’s kiosk (hünkar köskü) to the north of the church, which provides access into the lodge from the exterior. Eight colossal disks, bearing the names of God, the Prophet, the four Caliphs and the two sons of Ali, were commissioned to calligrapher Kazasker Izzet Efendi and replaced older panels hanging on the piers. These works have been kept in place after secularization, while other calligraphic panels were taken to the Sultanahmet Mosque and the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Art. The wrought iron chandeliers and the stained glass windows in the sanctuary are also from the Fossati redecoration.

The Hagia Sophia has four minarets at its corners that were added at different times. The brick minaret at the southern corner is attributed to Mehmed II, and a second stone minaret was added to the north by Mimar Sinan during his restoration. The remaining two minarets are identical and date from the Murad III period.

Also came across this. Is it some sort of claim to fame? I will bet that our gentleman here does not have a doctorate in Theology from a repectable non-commercial institute of higher learning!

“Brian Quinn
Brian is currently Ireland’s only liturgical consultant from the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago.”

And here is part two of the same musings:

Tabernacle Design: The Creative Process in Making a Place for the Blessed Sacrament (Part 2)
August 28, 2008
LAWRENCE R. HOY
The conclusion of Part 1 of this article suggested that, “The tabernacle is a sculptural entity that resonates from within. * * * As an artist/designer, one has to ask the question, ‘How do we “think outside the box” when there is so much tradition to consider? How do we move forward…break new ground…answer the questions about who and what we are and still respect the past?’” Some examples will help to illustrate the points made in Part 1.

On one project, my studio was commissioned to convert the player’s lounge at Arthur Ashe Stadium in New York City into a Blessed Sacrament chapel for the year 2000 Millennium Mass celebrated by the Diocese of Brooklyn/Queens. The program we developed was to create a monstrance that was in tune with the scale of the enormous room instead of placing a tabernacle in the room. The design solution was a sculptural monstrance suspended from the 40-foot tall ceiling in the middle of four central support columns.

The consecrated host was placed between two layers of glass in the center of the monstrance. The circular form surrounding it was made up of vertical metal strips that hung from the ceiling on invisible wires. The metal strips reflected light and color from the large windows that made up one entire wall. Four finials of frosted glass and gold leaf complete the cruciform within the circle. When people entered the room during this all-day event, they looked for a conventional tabernacle. Imagine their amazement when they looked up and saw the Blessed Sacrament suspended over their heads in a glorious monstrance larger than any they had ever seen.

Several other projects take their cue from a more historical perspective. In the twelfth century, the “sacrament house” was used for the place of reservation in many churches in northern Europe. These tower-like structures resembled cathedral spires and were used to both store the sacrament and allow for its exposition.

In St. Stanislaus Kostka Church, Maspeth, New York, the former apse became a much-needed sacristy with two new air conditioning units installed above it, so the original marble high altar had to be removed. The marble was beautifully carved but had already been modified after the 1985 Vatican II renovation, so we moved the remaining tower and canopy into the new chapel for the Blessed Sacrament. The original tabernacle was then cleverly suspended from the six support columns, creating a new tabernacle tower similar to the early sacrament houses. In this instance, the creative use of existing carved marble and intricate mosaic work was instrumental in saving this architectural heritage for future generations, while providing the parish with much needed space for sacristy and mechanical equipment.

A more contemporary version of the sacrament house was developed for the new St. Thomas More Church at St. John’s University in Queens, New York. The architect’s plan showed a distinct tower structure adjoining the main church to house the Blessed Sacrament chapel. The resulting tower shape, designed to hold the tabernacle and sanctuary lamp, took its cue from this architectural form. The effect on a person entering the chapel is uplifting. Another connection to the tower form in this particular church is that St. Thomas More, the titular of this church, lived his last days and was executed in the Tower of London.

The third project — Our Lady of Lourdes Church, Whitehouse Station, New Jersey — that recalls the early sacrament houses shows an example of how the lighting of the tabernacle becomes integral to the sculptural form. Lighting is an art and should be considered in conjunction with any design for church furnishings. In this instance, four small uplights are concealed in a metal ring at the base of the decorative crystal rods suspended from the ceiling over the tabernacle. The rods actually extend upwards into a golden canopy that is recessed into the ceiling. The effect of the light refracted through the crystal rods leaves decorative patterns of light on the ceiling that reflect around the room and onto the tabernacle, giving a mystical quality to the entire Blessed Sacrament chapel. The tabernacle and supporting plinth placed directly under this sculptural assemblage combine to form a floor to ceiling tower in the center of the room, which becomes a focal point for private devotion.

The above examples were all designs created for separate chapels within the church, but sometimes the only possible choice is to place the tabernacle in the sanctuary. In this instance, it is important to give the tabernacle a sense of “place,” but it is also important to consider a way to separate the tabernacle during Mass. The following examples show tabernacles that have been placed in the apse of an existing older church with the altar in front.

The architectural canopy designed for St. John Cantius Church in Brooklyn, New York, is simply two columns and a connecting arch with provision for a fabric “tent” roof over the tabernacle, forming a chapel within the sanctuary in a very simple way. The original tabernacle from the church had been a metal box with a decorative bronze door inserted into the old wooden altar. This tabernacle was restored and a new gilt surround was designed that includes door panels that close during Mass and open afterwards, revealing the tabernacle and allowing for it to be clearly visible from all parts of the church. The open doors are painted with icon images of Christ, Mary, and St. John Cantius, the titular saint.

Another example of the Blessed Sacrament chapel within the sanctuary is at St. Joseph of the Holy Family Church in Harlem, New York. The church, built by German immigrants in the late 1800s, is quite beautiful, but the parish design committee requested a design for the sanctuary that respected the African American heritage of the current congregation. Some research into African tribal art led to the idea of using the mandala from the Yoruba tribe, symbolizing “totality” as inspiration for the decoration on the front of the large door planels that are closed during Mass. The decoration is achieved with gold, silver, and copper leaf on wood, with the large central handles suggesting the tabernacle within. When the doors are opened, the tabernacle is clearly visible and accentuated. The door and side panels in this design are also double-hinged to expand into a small enclosed chapel for private and small group prayer. The tabernacle design reflects the Yoruba tribe motifs and is made of bronze, polished aluminum, polished ebony, granite and gold and silver leafed wood.

There are many beautiful examples of original and creative designs for tabernacles from the early pyx and sacrament houses to the later tabernacles built into the high altar and then the more contemporary tabernacles removed from the altar on plinth or throne. When considering a design for this most important liturgical element, it is vitally important to respect the journey the tabernacle has taken through the history of the liturgy and then to expound upon that knowledge to expand further the boundaries of creativity. Hopefully, we continue to look back and see the innovation and beauty that has been provided by our ancestors in faith and then be inspired to keep moving forward with evermore beautiful and functional designs.

Please note: All designs shown are owned and copyrighted by Renovata Studios, Inc.

Lawrence R. Hoy is a principal of Renovata Studios, Inc. in Port Chester, New York.

While doing a google search to see if any trace still remained of Brian Quinn as a churh architect, Praxiteles happened upon this extraordinary piece quilled by the maestro himself last September. I fear it is a atle of two cities:

Church Architecture in Ireland Today: At a Crossroads
September 04, 2007
BRIAN QUINN
The Roman Catholic parish of Castlederg in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland, has a Web page that succinctly reports that is parish church, St. Patrick’s, was built in 1846 and rededicated in 1997. But those few words do a disservice to the Irish experience of Catholic liturgical architecture.

No doubt built with pride and great personal sacrifice, St. Patrick’s Church replaced an earlier “substantial, commodious, though plain church.” (Fr. T.P. Donnelly, PP, A History of the Parish of Ardstraw West and Castlederg (unknown binding, 1978) 128.) The new stone church was neo-Gothic, “in harmony with the architectural fashion of the time” (Ibid., 127) and was part of a wave of church building that swept Ireland in the nineteenth century as the Roman Catholic Church accepted its newly acquired freedom of expression.

However, if you visit the parish you will notice another church building, now disused, that is not mentioned on the parish Web site. It sits in the shadow of its predecessor on the other side of the small parish cemetery. It was dedicated to St. Eugene in 1977 and was designed by one of Ireland’s foremost church architects, Liam McCormick. Like its predecessor, it was also in harmony with the architectural fashion of its time, built in steel and rendered masonry, focusing on the manipulation of space and light rather than walls, and recalling LeCorbusier’s pilgrimage chapel at Ronchamp. Its silhouette expresses the disposition and importance of the spaces within. Two unequal monopitch volumes back onto a circulation spine. The main worship space is within the largest volume dominating the ensemble, consistent with Modernist architectural principles. Other Modernist tenets are “truth to materials” and interior space formed by the function it contains.

Clearly, the parishioners were unconvinced. Truth to materials, in honour of the liturgy itself, a space that was shaped to support the ritual within, failed to persuade the parish to embrace the new. So in 1999, St. Patrick Church, which in 1977 “required…so much costly repairs and maintenance…that it had outlived its usefulness and was becoming a burden,” (Ibid., 134.) acquired a new lease of life and was totally refurbished. St. Eugene’s became the elephant in the corner of the room, a headstone to join the others commemorating an episode in the life of the parish, which, like a departed but not particularly loved relative, has been committed to history.

So why in the 1970s would the parish forsake St. Patrick’s for St. Eugene’s?

As in the rest of Ireland, the fundamental reassessment of church architecture that occurred in the wake of Vatican II, concluded that the old building compromised ritual and reinforced a hierarchical model of Church. Separation of mensa from reredos to form a freestanding altar was an initial reaction to new regulations requiring incensation from all sides. It was carried out in most Irish church buildings within a decade as a stop gap. Once this was done, as it was in St. Patrick’s, more satisfactory solutions could be explored and a deeper discernment could take place. A solution in which the architecture would reinforce the liturgy rather than frustrate it was desired. Added to this was the condition of the old buildings, which leaked due to years of neglect, and they were hard to heat and expensive to maintain. Parishes were persuaded that a new building was required as it would comply with the latest regulations, both constructional and liturgical.

Architects led the way in reconfiguring liturgical space. Liam McCormick was at the forefront of this search, and his church of St. Aengus (Burt Chapel, Donegal) is rightly considered a prime example.

So why would the parish in 1999 forsake St. Eugene’s for St. Patrick’s?

The new buildings were proving equally problematical with, in some cases, issues with the building fabric occurring soon after construction. Disheartened and frustrated with an unfamiliar liturgy and an even more unfamiliar architecture, bewildered parishioners no longer accepted the new style and yearned for “traditional” churches, churches that looked like the churches and buildings with which they were familiar. In the case of Castlederg, of course, the old and familiar was still there, literally on their doorstep, and like the prodigal son, the parish returned to its roots.

In a nutshell, this, then, is the experience of church architecture in Ireland since Vatican II. The revised liturgy and the new church architecture were indulged for a time, but it has slowly and painfully become apparent that the challenge is much more than skin deep. Irish church architecture finds itself at a crossroads, as it struggles to engage with the revised liturgy. Is it to persevere with the challenge of expressing the revised liturgy, or does it relapse back to tried and trusted symbols in a gesture of appeasement?

It is encouraging to report that the deeper discernment is ongoing, as it has become clear that even now we are only beginning to comprehend the liturgical implications of Vatican II. The first phase of that discernment in Ireland placed its trust in architecture as a language for realising the revised liturgy. However, as can be seen from the Castlederg experience, we have found this to be inadequate on its own. Architecture, of course, has a role to play, but centre stage now must be the people, the local faith community. From them the fullness of the liturgy will be realised and it is to them that architects must look for inspiration in clothing the liturgy in bricks and mortar.

Brian Quinn is an architect and liturgical consultant and a partner with Rooney & McConville, Belfast. He is a member of the Advisory Committee on Art & Architecture to the Irish Episcopal Commission for Liturgy, the Royal Institute of British Architects and the Royal Institute of Architects of Ireland.

Photo credit: Brian Quinn

And here we have some rather good news: The Restoration of the Cappella Paolina in the Vatican Palace. The Chapel, which has two lateral wall frescoes by Micahelangelo of the martyrdom of St. Peter and the conversion of St. Paul is the official chapel of the Roman Curia. It was heavily vandalized in the early 1970s losing its original altar, being stripped of many of its original fittings, being covered in cheap carpets that went to the dado of the frescoes and halfway up the back wall. The vandalizers, most notably Mons. Macchi, the secretary of Paul VI, used this significant chapel to imprint the idea that everything before 1970 had been gutted out of the Church in the rush to create the new Eutopia. The High Altar – shamefully- ended up with an antiques dealer in Rome where its was rescued by one of those famous Roman pious Matrons (so much a feature of the Roman Church since the beginning) rescued it and offered it back provided it were re-instated in the Pauline Chapel. Her insistence on this this might have seem foolhardy in 1970 but that is precisely what has happened in the latest restoration of the Chapel to mark the the Pauline Year. Here is the latest from the Catholic News Service:

VATICAN LETTER Mar-20-2009 (810 words) Backgrounder. xxxi

Papal prayer space: Restored Pauline Chapel ready for inauguration

By Cindy Wooden
Catholic News Service

VATICAN CITY (CNS) — After more than four years in office, Pope Benedict XVI finally will be able to preside over his first event in the Pauline Chapel of the Apostolic Palace.

The chapel, named after the 16th-century Pope Paul III, features the last two frescoes painted by Michelangelo: One depicts the conversion of St. Paul and the other shows the crucifixion of St. Peter.

In a March 15 article for L’Osservatore Romano, the Vatican newspaper, the director of the Vatican Museums said Pope Benedict would inaugurate the restored chapel June 29, the feast of Sts. Peter and Paul and the end of the yearlong celebration of the 2,000th anniversary of St. Paul’s birth.

Adding another Paul into the mix, the Vatican has announced that the rearrangement of the liturgical space carried out under Pope Paul VI after the Second Vatican Council will be almost completely reversed, restoring most of the furnishings to their original place.

However, Antonio Paolucci, director of the Vatican Museums, said that while the chapel’s original marble altar will be returned it will not be put flush against the wall, so that Mass can still be celebrated “both ‘versus populum’ (toward the people) as well as ‘versus crucem’ (toward the cross).”

Pope John Paul II had already undone one of changes made immediately after the Second Vatican Council; he had workers take up the carpeting that had been laid in part because Pope Paul’s arthritic walk made him prone to slipping on marble, said an official who worked with Pope Paul.

While the Pauline Chapel commonly is described as the most private of the chapels in the Vatican, Pope John Paul regularly invited groups to join him there for an early morning Mass. It holds about 100 worshippers, roughly four times as many people as can fit in the private chapel of the papal apartment.

From 1979 to 1982, when Pope John Paul baptized babies, the Pauline Chapel was the location he chose. The annual ceremony was moved to the Sistine Chapel in 1983 when he baptized 20 infants, instead of the usual dozen, and the Pauline Chapel could not hold all the parents, godparents, siblings and guests.

Modern rules for a conclave to elect a pope specify that the world’s cardinals are to gather in the Pauline Chapel to take their vow of secrecy before processing into the Sistine Chapel for the election. But the Pauline Chapel was filled with scaffolding in 2005 during the conclave that elected Pope Benedict, so the cardinals had to gather in the nearby Hall of the Blessings.

Pope Benedict has visited the chapel since his election, but only to inspect the work in progress. His latest visit was Feb. 25, Paolucci said.

The work began in 2003 and has been carried out with funding from the England, Ireland, Florida, Texas, Arizona and Connecticut chapters of the Patrons of the Arts in the Vatican Museums.

Hosting a review of the work last September, Cardinal Giovanni Lajolo, president of the commission governing Vatican City, said, “I would be even happier if this meeting could have taken place long before today because the time needed to restore the Pauline Chapel has gone beyond what was predicted.”

He said the delay was due partially to “the architectural characteristics” of the chapel, but also for “other reasons of various kinds” that he did not specify.

In his Vatican newspaper article, Paolucci said the restoration work on the Michelangelo frescoes has revealed a color scheme similar to that of the massive “Last Judgment” in the Sistine Chapel, a work completed the year before he began work on the frescoes in the Pauline Chapel.

The colors will be brighter than they were before the cleaning began, but they are not the vivid colors characteristic of Michelangelo’s ceiling in the Sistine Chapel, Paolucci wrote.

“Liberated from the dark, oily covering that oppressed and obscured them, the Michelangelo frescoes have re-emerged with their figurative coherence and chromatic truth,” he wrote.

Paolucci said the colors are not the shades of “dust and ash” that many art historians had attributed to an aging and increasingly pessimistic Michelangelo. The artist was 76 years old when he finished the Pauline Chapel.

Vatican records show that Michelangelo “acquired massive quantities of ultramarine blue,” a pigment made from ground lapis lazuli gems, “and we found a lot of it and of splendid quality during the cleaning,” the director said.

Paolucci said the cleaning of the frescoes was not meant “to restore them to their original splendor” — an attempt that would be impossible as well as dishonest since it would mean ignoring the passage of time — but to promote their preservation and make them easier to see and, therefore, to enjoy.

Obviously, however, the work cannot be declared complete until the pope celebrates a liturgy there, restoring the Pauline Chapel to its original purpose.

Some shots of the restoration work currently being carried out in Hagia Sophia in Constantinople by the American Byzantine Institute to uncover and restore the Byzantine mosaics in the church.

@pandaz7 wrote:

I enjoy following this thread and agree that much of the re-ordering of Irish churches has been inappropriate, unnecessary and has ripped the soul from many of these venerable buildings. However, much of the more recent material seems in my view to suggest that old = good and new = bad. What is the role of modern architecture and design in church building? Is tradition so fundamental that it must always be slavishly followed?

Pandaz7! Forgive the delay in relying to your question. Clearly, as posed, it represents an over simplification. Praxiteles is not saying that contemporary creative powers are incapable of achieveing contempory work on a par with the masterpieces of the past. Neither is Praxiteles saying that the past is to be followed slavishly. When it comes to Church architecture, the creative powers of the present require a certain discipline both in terms of objective (a church building must reflect a theology, unlike some modern architects it is not an opportunity for continuing the idea that the artist in self expression is the source of beauty -an idea coined by the romanticism of the 19th. century), and also of stimulation (this in practical terms means a thorough knowledge of the Christian tradition of architecture if he is to be able competently to percieve and extract extract the principles undelying that tradition and succeed in vesting them in a contemporary idiom).

The likes of the stuff produced by Hacker Hurley is a clear example of what happens when both of these conditions are simultaniously absent. Hurley’s acquaintance with the Christian tradition of architecture hardly extends beyond the house churches of the early Christian community. This is an important aspect of that tradition but it remains only a seminal element of the tradition. It is of course very handy to canonize this particular diachronic segment of a much wider continuum since practically nothing of it actually exists and written accounts of it are fairly scarce too – which leaves us in the happy position of being able to “invent” what the early house church looked like and how it functioned. That handy convenience leads us to the second problem with the Hurley school: the typical 19th view of romanticism that the artist is the source of beauty. Hurley’s productions are sufficient evidence to show just how wrong and derailed that notion is.

In this matter, Praxiteles would recommend a little book written in 1967 by the French theologian and liturgist Louis Bouyer which has just been republished by the Editions du Cerf in Paris: Architecture et Liturgie.

Attached are some pages which perhaps better phrase the problematic raised by Pandaz7.

A further example of a Fastentuck:

The 16th century Millstatt (Carinthia, Austria) Fastentuck as currently displayed in the church and with examples of the panels on it: the Last Judgement, the Circumcision of Our Lord, and Pentecost. In this case the, Heilsgieschichte (or history of salvation) extends from the creation (top left) to the Last Judgement (bottom right).

The Fastentucher of the Cathedral in Gurk (Austria) in full destension and displaying the Heilsgeschichte (or History of Salvation) starting with Creation narrative, going though the Creation of Adam and then of Eve, Cain killing his brother Abel, Noah, and s on up to Christ, his passion, death and resurrection and his post resurrection appearances: