I selected this photo of the Ingreja do Carmo in Lisbon not because of any particularly interesting architectural detail, but rather because the building exists in the first place. Of course you see the sky through the window, but if you look more closely you'll also see it peeking through the trees, too. That's a lot of sky to be seen, and that's because this church was damaged during the Lisbon earthquake of 1755, which some scientists estimate to have measured around 9.0 on the Richter scale. Besides killing between 10,000 and 100,000 people, the earthquake destroyed 85 percent of the buildings in Lisbon and caused tsunamis that were noted as far away as Cornwall, England (see next week's photo). This convent church had its roof collapse, destroying a 5000-volume library, and it was never rebuilt. It served briefly as a military billet, and now is an archaeological museum. Unfortunately it was close when we went to visit, so we only got this view from the outside; luckily it was still a fascinating view.
I'm going back through my various vacation photos and pulling out those pics of interesting buildings or details. This photo is of one of the doors of the Florence Baptistery, an octagonal building across the plaza from the massive Duomo cathedral and the Campanile (bell tower) di Giotto. The Baptistery has three sets of these bronze doors, including this relief by Lorenzo Ghiberti depicting various Old Testament stories. Actually, my manservant Patsy is whispering that these are only copies, as the originals are now hidden away to protect them from further damage by exposure outdoors. Still, very impressive artwork, which took the artist and his workshop 27 years to produce. I can't imagine spending that much time on a single project, but it might be worth it for something that lasted this long!
I'm thinking we took this picture of Boy chasing pigeons in front of the Cologne Cathedral before we ascended its 509 steps, rather than after. At one point (from 1880-1884) the cathedral was the tallest structure in the world, until the Washington Monument was finished. The tower climb is almost 100 meters high and takes quite a long time, especially if you're accompanied by a 6 year old, so I'm pretty sure this photo was pre- and not post-climb. As I recall, it was a pretty warm day (close to 90F), which explains why neither Boy nor the pigeons are making a real effort. Still, I'm sure they were terrified.
Ah, Scotland ... lovely and green and cool even in the spring sunshine. No pigeons to be found at Jedburgh Abbey, the very picturesque ruin you see here. The coolest thing about this place? There's actually a scale replica built of Lego at Legoland Windsor, a place we visited frequently during our English sojourn.
In February 1999 we took our first annual "get us out of gloomy dark England" trip to the Mediterranean. We went to Malta, an island that's midway between Sicily and Tunisia, so there are all sorts of interesting influences there. A bonus was that everyone spoke English, because it was a Commonwealth nation until 1964. We rented a car and drove around, checking out prehistoric sites, natural beauties, and more "recent" history, such as this cathedral built by the Knights of St. John. Although the outside of the church is very plain, the inside is incredibly ornate, and the floor is covered with sepulchral slabs like the ones in this picture, all made of many shades of marble carefully pieced to make incredible pictures. This one was relatively simple, but I thought very effective. Boy thought it was pretty cool, too ... but we still need to work on the fake smile.
In the summer of 2003 we still had the travel bug and had a standing invitation to visit our dear Canadian friends from London (it sounds more confusing than it is) who have a summer home in Quebec. We decided to make a long trip out of it and check out both Montreal and Quebec City along the way. This is the Basilique Notre Dame, located in the historic district of Montreal. While it looks like a plain grey, boxy cathedral on the outside, I was stunned by the colors on the inside and had to share this photo of the main altar.
We made a spring trip to Wales and visited Tintern Abbey, which those English majors among you may remember as the setting for a lengthy poem by Wordsworth ("Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey on revisiting the banks of the Wye Valley during a tour, July 13, 1798"). Strangely enough, the poem never describes the building itself, but contemplates the natural beauty of the river valley. (Or maybe it's not strange, knowing Wordsworth's affinity for the natural world.) In any case, I found the ruins just as beautiful, set against the green green grass (O! for green grass here!) and the misty skies.
Whoops. I forgot to post a new picture last week. So this is your first clue: the sky doesn't have to be pure clear blue for me to get a great shot of a church. This one is the Church Heiliger Franz von Assisi (aka Francis of Assisi) in Vienna, also known as the Jubilee Church, since it was built in 1898 to commemorate the golden jubilee (50 years on the throne) of Kaiser Franz Joseph I. It was lit so well, I loved the contrast of white against the dark sky, along with the accents made by the red roofs.
The onion domes, the red brick, the colorful tiles: we knew we were in Russia. Our Baltic cruise had a stop in St. Petersburg, which was full of beautiful buildings and interesting sights. This was one of the most beautiful: the Church of the Resurrection of Christ. It's also known as the Church of the Spilled Blood, as it’s built on the spot where Tsar Alexander II was blown up by terrorists in 1881. We didn't get to enter the building, but with such a beautiful sky outside, we couldn't really mind.
Yeah, I know I'm a sucker for blue skies and bright churches. But this one was in Helsinki, Finland! In the summer of 2001, after a slight delay because of engine trouble, we took a cruise around the Baltic. We spent a lovely day in Helsinki, visiting the forest home of composer Jean Sibelius, and also walked by the lovely Tuomiokirkko, which you see in this photo. This is definitely the upside of northern latitudes: they may be dreary in winter, but the skies can be glorious on those long summer days. I could use some of that summer sky right about now.
No, your eyes aren't deceiving you: that church really is a little off-center. This is the Oude Kerk, or "old church," of Delft, the Netherlands. And it is a very old church, founded in 1246, with the lopsided tower completed around 100 years later. It was later superceded by the Nieuwe Kerk, or "new church," which is taller and serves as the burial place of many Dutch monarchs. (And just to give you an idea of what "new" means to Europeans, the Nieuwe Kerk was begun in 1396 and finished 100 years later.) So who can resist taking a photo of a building that is so obviously battling gravity, and winning?
Actually, I had a couple of potential titles for this blog entry, which is in praise of the pipe organ. But I thought heading my post with "I love the organ!" might attract the wrong kind of indexing on Google. Same with "I love the pipe!" {Sigh.}
I'm not sure why I decided to write about this today. Maybe it's because I'm seeking escape from all the Chicken Christmas music that is inundating the air. By this weekend I will have played in two Christmas concerts, and Christmas Eve I'm spending playing at my friend's church. And that's a nice way to spend Christmas Eve, but it would feel more special if I hadn't been stuffed full of holiday songs for the past month. Even the usually reliable XM "Symphony Hall" classical channel is filled with Christmas oratorios and other things too unbearable to mention.
So I guess I felt like turning to the one kind of music that always moves me to turn up the volume: the pipe organ. If you read my review of the film Battleship Potemkin, you know a big factor in my enjoyment was the live organ music that accompanied this silent film. One of my favorite pieces of classical music is Saint-Saens's Third Symphony, whose final movement is grandly completed with pipe organ. (They used this movement's musical theme in the film Babe, strangely enough; but the sight of James Cromwell dancing for a pig to this music wasn't enough to dampen my enjoyment of the piece. Hearing it performed live, a couple shades too slow, was more of a disappointment.)
Occasionally pop music has made great use of the organ; Elton John's "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" is another favorite of mine, and to hear it live in a huge arena was a highlight when I saw him in concert around 20 years ago. Of course, the organ is meant to be heard in a grand space, and I've been lucky enough to hear the organ performed in some of the most beautiful churches in Europe. On a visit to Bath, England, in 1990 we were lucky enough to hear a whole concert of organ music. While living in London, I also took the opportunity to catch the occasional organ recital, including one at the St. Albans Cathedral and Abbey, parts of which date to the 11th century. One time I was even lucky enough to perform with pipe organ, when the honors band I was in played Weinberger's "Polka and Fugue from Schwanda, the Bagpiper" in a grand hall.
So I do love the pipe organ. And here is one of my favorite pieces, Widor's Toccata from his Symphony for Organ #5. It's not the kind of sound quality I prefer (ie, turned up to 11 on my surround-sound system), but it gives you an idea:
Ahhh, Venice! Listen, when your mother-in-law offers to stay with the offspring while you and your hubby go explore this lovely city on the Adriatic, you don't hesitate! Now, The Spousal Unit did have business meetings during one day, but that just meant I had a free day to spend in the glass museum and shops in nearby Murano. We had a beautful fall weekend and enjoyed a gondola ride, a Vivaldi concert (performed in period dress), and of course the lovely canals. This view is of the Santa Maria della Salute, one of the many churches built after Venice survived the plague of 1630. I thought it was a lovely shot, particularly with that skyratpigeon dove flying through the air.
Seriously, how could you look at this picture and not want to visit Scotland? Okay, maybe the picture is a little misleading, because it's not raining. Still, Scotland is such a beautiful place: just as green as Ireland, but a little more windy and hilly. And the ruins! These were umpteenth set we visited, of Melrose Abbey in the Scottish Borders (ie, the southeast part, near the English border). Many British abbeys were scavenged after Henry VIII began dissolving monasteries in the mid-16th century, leaving picturesque ruins like this one. It's quite something to behold, the beauty of the countryside showing through the faded grandeur of mere human construction.
It was kind of intoxicating, living in London, because a free weekend meant we could go anywhere in Europe within about three hours. We had a long weekend in January 2000, so we decided to go to Prague. For people who born in the 60s, growing up with the Iron Curtain, traveling to a former Soviet client and seeing the transformation democracy had brought in just a decade was fascinating. Prague is a lovely city, and now it's a major tourist destination, especially in the summer. Since we visited in the very low season, it felt like we had most of the city to ourselves. (We even took a walking tour, similar to the famous London Walks, in which we were the only clients, so we could ask the guide all the questions we wanted.) This photo is of the Church of Our Lady before Tyn, seen from atop the Old Town Hall in the city's main square. We had beautiful weather, and I love the way the angular towers reach into the blue sky and skewer the clouds.
Although most of our trip to Lisbon in August 1999 was sunny and warm, we happened to get rained upon on during our visit to the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos. Luckily the cloisters of this 16th-century monastery are so beautiful they stand out even against the gloomy skies. I even think the gray setting gives you a better feeling of the age of this complex, whose church is still in use. (We saw two wedding in progress while we were there.) It reminds you that at one time Portugal was one of the great powers of the world, with the wealth to show it off. Lisbon is a beautiful city, both ancient and modern, and you can tell they take great pride in their history.
What can I say? I'm a sucker for beautiful architecture set against blue skies. It was a gorgeous spring day in Paris, way back in April 1999, and here you see the Mr. and the Boy sitting on the steps of the Sacre Coeur Cathedral in Montmartre. Tourists and locals, all enjoying the weather and the beauty of the city. What more could you ask for on a weekend trip?
Not much to say about this one. St. Peter's Basilica, the seat of the Pope, is one of the most beautiful cathedrals in the world. The sun was coming in at just the right angle, making it easy to capture this gorgeous shot. I knew it would be an amazing photo even as I took it (and this was in the days before digital, when I had to wait for the film to get developed).
Our first major trip after relocating to London took place in January 1999. My parents brought my grandmother over for a visit—thus proving you're never too old to try new things, for at age 80, this was her first trip to Europe. We then headed over to Italy and started exploring the lovely city of Florence (or Firenze, as the locals call it). This is the city of Michelangelo's David, and it was filled with architectural marvels. The Ponte Vecchio, the Uffizi, many beautiful Piazzas, and of course the marvel that is the Duomo. This cathedral, covered in green and pink marble, was lovely from every angle. But I particularly liked this shot, looking up from the ground, for the quality of the light and the clarity of the sky.
Our very first vacation after our move to London in the summer of 1998 was up to Yorkshire. We visited York, the second oldest city in England, and various sites around the county. This is a photo of Fountains Abbey, which according to the guidebooks is the largest monastic ruin in England. It was founded in 1132 by the Cistercian order, right next to a river; you can't see from this shot, but the ruins spread out over acres, and you can see where the kitchens and living quarters were, in addition to the large cathedral that served as the center of worship. This is my favorite shot from that trip; I love the play of light and shadow (lovely northern summer light), as well as the shape of the ruined staircase that is in the center of the photo.
It's actually funny that I should be making this post about Yorkshire today; on that trip, 10 years ago, we had a nice visit with my other half's aunt and uncle, who live in Yorkshire. That very same aunt and uncle are having a nice visit here with us in Michigan this week.
