What I did on my winter holiday, part IV
18 November
Our first stop is the Civic Hall - not intending to visit, but sort of drawn in. It's been a civic centre since 14th c. but was renovated in 19th c. in the Gothic revival style so popular at that point. It is gloriously...camp, as in over the top: bands of painted ornaments layered on top of one another, topped off with 'scenes of Bruges' history, that are reminiscent of Osprey book artwork. It took decades to complete, not least because, in the fine bureaucratic tradition, so many committees required consultation on the design. The original artist in fact died waiting for planning permissions...
Apparently Bruges got swept up in the 19th century Gothic Revival just as much as England did - I'd previously thought it was an English phenomenon. Many medieval buildings were restored to their medieval ideal, at least according to 19th century views and tastes. Since Bruges has been carefully maintained to keep the medieval look and feel, it's sometimes hard to distinguish which buildings are originally medieval and which have been built in that style but much later.
We make a quick return to the Groeningmuseum, to sketch a bit more and see if we missed anything. Am sorely tempted by the bookshop, which Robert marches past without missing a beat. Sigh.
From Groeningmuseum we move to the Gruuthuse, which is the former home of a wealthy burgher family. They seem to have taken their name from their house - the house where 'gruut', the herbs flavouring needed for beer, was mixed and doled out. Being basically in control of beer production in Bruges made the family wealthy early on in Flemish urban history.
The Gruuthuse is now a museum (no surprise), but is currently occupied by a temporary exhibit while they're being refurbished. Most of the temp displays were highlighting the stuff you can see in other related Bruges museums. There are some very handsome tapestries, with one in near-mint condition, very rich and with strong yellow-green colours.
The hall itself is handsome, with an arched roof, painted, all the joints of the arches decorated with musicians, carved and painted.
One amazing feature of the Gruuthuse is the private chapel. One of the best-known sons of the family is Louis de Bruges, lord of Gruuthuse - he was named Earl of Winchester, in thanks for housing Edward IV in exile during the wars of the roses. Louis was devout, and arranged to have his own chapel extended from the upper floor of his house into the cathedral of Our Lady next door: his chapel is actually attached to the cathedral and the windows overlook the altar. You can kneel on the bench, and get an excellent view of the centre of the cathedral. A small door connects the cathedral up some stairs to the chapel. So he didn't have to get out of his dressing gown and slippers to attend Mass.
We did visit the cathedral as well - currently covered with scaffolding. The front half of the church is designated a museum, housing some recently-found 13th c. graves, and the tombs of Mary of Burgundy and her father, Charles the Bold (sometimes called Charles the Rash). The older graves are directly under the altar, and the interiors of the stone coffins were painted with angels, crosses, Mother Mary, presumeably to comfort the dead.
A few fragments of Mary's 'liturgical garments' are framed on the wall: fragments of a pall, practically crumbling, and a belt with a buckle.
In the side chapels there are patches of original paint exposed on the walls; columns and reliefs show that at least a bit of test cleaning & restoration has been tried. I think you'd freeze trying to work in the chapel in winter - perhaps it's summer work only? The damp indoors would really sink into your bones. The beautiful diapered patterns and vermilion columns show you how gaudily brililant the churches must once have been.
Next to the Civic Hall is the Basilica of the Holy Blood, which houses as its main relic a vial of the holy blood, brought back from the holy lands by pilgrims (read: crusaders) in the 12th century. It too is a riot of Gothic Revival decor: it's as if someone flipped through the Dover book of medieval border decorations, couldn't make up their minds, and decided to use all of them on the walls.
We visited both the downstairs crypt, carefully preserved in 12th c Romanesque style (heavy, with huge pillars and thick walls) and the upper chapel, where a recording tells you in 3 languages that you are permitted to venerate the holy blood in a respectful fashion, between set hours. And indeed, there was a priest set up on a dais, where you could walk up the stairs, kiss the vial and say a prayer.
I found this a bit weirding-out-ish: I didn't realise anyone still venerated relics, seriously, in this day and age. But then, people believe in healing crystals and homeopathy, so I guess a vial of blood from the middle east is no more or less magical.
It was in the tiny basilica museum, on a five-minute visit, that Robert found a real gem: the noble Brotherhood of the Holy Blood, a brotherhood comitted to keeping the holy blood safe in Bruges. Their emblem is, you guessed it, a pelican in its piety: a huge one is carved above the main entrance, with a rather frazzled Pelican feeding at least 7 chicks.
Even better though - they have a small 'Parurebook' to record the style of the livery of the brotherhood. The earliest 15th c versions are essentially longish houppelandes in dark colours, with a honking big Pelican on one shoulder, and a cascade of blood droplets falling across the body along a sash (see the illustration on the Brotherhood's webpage!).
So: an authentic historic noble order, dedicated to (at least some) good works, with its emblem a Pelican: how cool is that? Robert was pretty pleased.
From Bruges, we took the train onward to Ghent, less than 2 hours away.
Our first stop is the Civic Hall - not intending to visit, but sort of drawn in. It's been a civic centre since 14th c. but was renovated in 19th c. in the Gothic revival style so popular at that point. It is gloriously...camp, as in over the top: bands of painted ornaments layered on top of one another, topped off with 'scenes of Bruges' history, that are reminiscent of Osprey book artwork. It took decades to complete, not least because, in the fine bureaucratic tradition, so many committees required consultation on the design. The original artist in fact died waiting for planning permissions...
Apparently Bruges got swept up in the 19th century Gothic Revival just as much as England did - I'd previously thought it was an English phenomenon. Many medieval buildings were restored to their medieval ideal, at least according to 19th century views and tastes. Since Bruges has been carefully maintained to keep the medieval look and feel, it's sometimes hard to distinguish which buildings are originally medieval and which have been built in that style but much later.
We make a quick return to the Groeningmuseum, to sketch a bit more and see if we missed anything. Am sorely tempted by the bookshop, which Robert marches past without missing a beat. Sigh.
From Groeningmuseum we move to the Gruuthuse, which is the former home of a wealthy burgher family. They seem to have taken their name from their house - the house where 'gruut', the herbs flavouring needed for beer, was mixed and doled out. Being basically in control of beer production in Bruges made the family wealthy early on in Flemish urban history.
The Gruuthuse is now a museum (no surprise), but is currently occupied by a temporary exhibit while they're being refurbished. Most of the temp displays were highlighting the stuff you can see in other related Bruges museums. There are some very handsome tapestries, with one in near-mint condition, very rich and with strong yellow-green colours.
The hall itself is handsome, with an arched roof, painted, all the joints of the arches decorated with musicians, carved and painted.
One amazing feature of the Gruuthuse is the private chapel. One of the best-known sons of the family is Louis de Bruges, lord of Gruuthuse - he was named Earl of Winchester, in thanks for housing Edward IV in exile during the wars of the roses. Louis was devout, and arranged to have his own chapel extended from the upper floor of his house into the cathedral of Our Lady next door: his chapel is actually attached to the cathedral and the windows overlook the altar. You can kneel on the bench, and get an excellent view of the centre of the cathedral. A small door connects the cathedral up some stairs to the chapel. So he didn't have to get out of his dressing gown and slippers to attend Mass.
We did visit the cathedral as well - currently covered with scaffolding. The front half of the church is designated a museum, housing some recently-found 13th c. graves, and the tombs of Mary of Burgundy and her father, Charles the Bold (sometimes called Charles the Rash). The older graves are directly under the altar, and the interiors of the stone coffins were painted with angels, crosses, Mother Mary, presumeably to comfort the dead.
A few fragments of Mary's 'liturgical garments' are framed on the wall: fragments of a pall, practically crumbling, and a belt with a buckle.
In the side chapels there are patches of original paint exposed on the walls; columns and reliefs show that at least a bit of test cleaning & restoration has been tried. I think you'd freeze trying to work in the chapel in winter - perhaps it's summer work only? The damp indoors would really sink into your bones. The beautiful diapered patterns and vermilion columns show you how gaudily brililant the churches must once have been.
Next to the Civic Hall is the Basilica of the Holy Blood, which houses as its main relic a vial of the holy blood, brought back from the holy lands by pilgrims (read: crusaders) in the 12th century. It too is a riot of Gothic Revival decor: it's as if someone flipped through the Dover book of medieval border decorations, couldn't make up their minds, and decided to use all of them on the walls.
We visited both the downstairs crypt, carefully preserved in 12th c Romanesque style (heavy, with huge pillars and thick walls) and the upper chapel, where a recording tells you in 3 languages that you are permitted to venerate the holy blood in a respectful fashion, between set hours. And indeed, there was a priest set up on a dais, where you could walk up the stairs, kiss the vial and say a prayer.
I found this a bit weirding-out-ish: I didn't realise anyone still venerated relics, seriously, in this day and age. But then, people believe in healing crystals and homeopathy, so I guess a vial of blood from the middle east is no more or less magical.
It was in the tiny basilica museum, on a five-minute visit, that Robert found a real gem: the noble Brotherhood of the Holy Blood, a brotherhood comitted to keeping the holy blood safe in Bruges. Their emblem is, you guessed it, a pelican in its piety: a huge one is carved above the main entrance, with a rather frazzled Pelican feeding at least 7 chicks.
Even better though - they have a small 'Parurebook' to record the style of the livery of the brotherhood. The earliest 15th c versions are essentially longish houppelandes in dark colours, with a honking big Pelican on one shoulder, and a cascade of blood droplets falling across the body along a sash (see the illustration on the Brotherhood's webpage!).
So: an authentic historic noble order, dedicated to (at least some) good works, with its emblem a Pelican: how cool is that? Robert was pretty pleased.
From Bruges, we took the train onward to Ghent, less than 2 hours away.