Tuesday, October 21, 2014

A Spanish Gem in Los Angeles



A very brief visit to Los Angeles earlier this year (and my first ever visit to the Pacific coast) saw me taking an early morning stroll in the center of that concrete city.  Unlike many cities the “downtown” area of LA did not inspire me one brick, and weaving my way between robotic city workers clutching their coffees and wending their way to the offices, I sought out the nearby Roman Catholic cathedral in the hope that I would find it interesting.

The Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels was dedicated in 2002.  The previous 1786 mother church of St Vibiana (virgin & martyr 3rd century) had been condemned after earthquake damage in the mid 1990s and the Archdiocese move swiftly to put alternate (and safer) plans in place.  From the outside the new building has the charm and sophistication of a nuclear power plant, but let that not detract the visitor from entering.  The interior, minimalist on first encounter, reflects a spirituality and history that far surpass the newness of it all. And the modern tapestry hangings are worth a look. These things, coupled with a magnificent organ (which was playing at full volume at 8:00 that morning!) made for a rather grand post-breakfast experience.




But it was at the rear of one of the side aisles that I found my “gem.”  A 17th century reredos carved from black walnut and gilded in places.  At least it was what I would term a reredos, but the history booklet corrected me.  It was a “retablo” after the Spanish word for “retabl.”  A shelf raised above the back of an altar to hold icons and ornaments and carved with traditional Christian imagery.  So a reredos then.





This piece has a fascinating history.  Its provenance can be traced to 1687 and a parish church in Ezcaray, Spain, but experts believe that its craftsmanship actually dates from the beginning of the 17th century.  Ezcaray was a very poor village in the Basque region and after the church fell into disrepair it was decided to sell the retablo to a New York collector to raise money for rebuilding.  It found its way to Los Angeles where it languished in a storeroom for a few years.  Eventually it was installed in the Roman Catholic Queen of Angels Seminary.  That college closed its doors in 1995 (the year after an even greater theological centre closed down in Salisbury, England) and the retablo waited in the empty building for the new cathedral to be completed.

It stands over twenty feet tall and twenty-five feet wide and depicts a crucifix surrounded by images of the saints.  The Mother and Child look down from the top which is supported by four twisted walnut columns.  These in turn are surrounded by clusters of grapes that have clear Eucharistic meaning.

It’s a gorgeous piece, but my two complaints are that it is not in a very prominent position within the cathedral, and it is poorly lit.  Other than that it is worth an early morning visit.  Or any time of day for that matter. Just hope that the organ is playing...
 

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Berrow St Faith, Worcestershire




AT the south-east extremity of the Malvern chain lie the two interesting parishes above-named. (Berrow and Birtsmorton.) They were formerly in the ancient forest, which extended many miles round and up to the hills, and were among the earliest clearances or disafforestings. The beautiful seclusion of the district has at length been broken into by the spade of the "navvy," as the railway projected from Monmouth through the Forest of Dean to Worcester will pass through Berrow, and a station is to be erected near the Rye Cross, on the borders of the two parishes. (Noake’s Guide to Worcestershire 1868.)

Noake need not have worried so for the “navvies” never arrived and the line was never built, but it does serve as a perfect illustration of the timeless attitude that is summed up by the modern acronym, Not In My Back Yard!

Berrow (population a little over two hundred in 2011) is, despite the curmudgeonly grumblings of John Noake, a very pleasant hamlet scattered across lush agricultural lands centered on a splendid medieval church dedicated to the 3rd century St Faith of Conques,  and a nearby half-timbered vicarage that dates from the 17th century.  It was opposite this rambling building that I parked to visit the church on a bright and warm day.  As I walked towards the lychgate I noticed a man sitting outside a rear door of the vicarage reading a newspaper and sipping from a mug.  With dark trousers and black shirt open at the neck I assumed that he was a man of the cloth who had removed his collar and was taking a few moments to relax in the sun.  Yet my loud “Good Afternoon!” went unnoticed.  He simply turned the page and read on.




Ominously the clouds started to gather as I walked up the church path, but it was only a fleeting shadow.  My first impressing was that, given the small number of people who lived in this parish, this is a large building.  The 15th century tower is of irregular shape with a parapet with gaps, or crenels.  (The marauding Welsh again?) And the doorway and north wall is old, very old.  Probably 12th century with impressive and (later) scalloped capitals.  Sheltering  the door the blackened timber is late 14th century.




St Faith’s is light and spacious.  (I checked later and Mee used that word also! [1]) There is a fine Norman font, and a “Leper’s Window” in the north wall.  The nave pews belong to a Victorian restoration but there are examples of older furniture and decoration – notable a few side benches, the Jacobean altar (yes, I lifted up the frontal to get a peek!)  and rather impressive pulpit panels.






I was particularly taken by the colours of the 1836 east window lights.  Dedicated to the Thackwell family of nearby Birtsmorton Court (sadly now one of those ghastly wedding venues) the left light depicts Jesus as a boy being taught to write; the center shows us the Christ-child in the arms of his mother – yet already holding the cross-bearing orb; and the right light has the risen Christ appearing to Mary Magdalene.  All rather subdued and tasteful.



I will not suggest three gems in this church.  It was a delightful visit but one in which I had to hurry because the afternoon was running away.  Instead I invite the patient reader to consider this other, gruesome subject.  There is a memorial stone on the outside wall of the church marking the grave of the Gummery family.  And further digging (metaphorical not actual) revealed the entry in the Berrow parish registry:

Gummery
Edward - husband
Elizabeth - wife
Anne - daughter
This is the record of the celebrated murder at the Murder House; May 11, 1780

And now you may read on by clicking this link:


[1] The King’s England – Worcestershire.  Arthur Mee.  New Edition Revised 1968.  P 24.

OS Grid Reference:  SO794342