of angels and angles
Despite getting bombarded by countless amounts of info about tympanums, the many faces of stylized Jesus, the adoration of the Virgin Mary (hmm, DaVinci Code, perhaps?), and gargoyles and then completely screwing up my art history test, I've decided that I adore Gothic architecture and cathedrals.
Don't ask me why, but every time I see a picture of one of the Gothic cathedrals in England in France, I get this inexplicable feeling of awe and wonder at the sheer magnitude of the building and at the fact that medieval architects were somehow, without the comforts of modern technology, able to create soaring, skyward, spectacular creations. The intricate sculpture details along the archivolts, the huge portals, the terrifying yet fantastic tympanum scenes, the gigantic stained-glass windows, oh, I could go on and on about the exterior forever; the best part, in my opinion, is the interior. I'll be the first to admit that I'm more skeptical than religious, that I haven't been to church since I really don't know (something my super zealous clergy ancestors would cringe at, to be sure), but I've always loved the interiors of churches, particularly old and big ones. There's something so...other-worldly and transcendent about walking into a dark, ginormous naive illuminated only by the multi-colored sunlight streaming in from the massive lancets and gazing up at the distant vaulted ceiling pointed up towards the heavens. Last spring break, I kept dragging
Ani back to the medieval art section the Met, not because I liked the art, but because the room was modeled after such a cathedral. We 21st century inhabitants take so much for granted, including Gothic architecture; the majority of us, for the most part, just pass it up or label it as antiquity and religion because we're so used to it. But for some reason, I'm always drawn back to the gorgeousness of these buildings, the history, the significance, the feeling of inspiration at such breath-taking works of architecture.
Plus, I love the term "flying buttress." Oh shutup. Yes, I still have the mind of a sophomore boy, even though I turn 18 in a month. You would giggle too if you had to learn about flying buttresses.
Whee, lego!
One day, I'm going to travel to France and see every Gothic single cathedral, from the very exterior, to the naive, up the galleries past the lancets and roses, and finally to the towering tops of the spires where the whole world can be seen.
Don't ask me why, but every time I see a picture of one of the Gothic cathedrals in England in France, I get this inexplicable feeling of awe and wonder at the sheer magnitude of the building and at the fact that medieval architects were somehow, without the comforts of modern technology, able to create soaring, skyward, spectacular creations. The intricate sculpture details along the archivolts, the huge portals, the terrifying yet fantastic tympanum scenes, the gigantic stained-glass windows, oh, I could go on and on about the exterior forever; the best part, in my opinion, is the interior. I'll be the first to admit that I'm more skeptical than religious, that I haven't been to church since I really don't know (something my super zealous clergy ancestors would cringe at, to be sure), but I've always loved the interiors of churches, particularly old and big ones. There's something so...other-worldly and transcendent about walking into a dark, ginormous naive illuminated only by the multi-colored sunlight streaming in from the massive lancets and gazing up at the distant vaulted ceiling pointed up towards the heavens. Last spring break, I kept dragging
Ani back to the medieval art section the Met, not because I liked the art, but because the room was modeled after such a cathedral. We 21st century inhabitants take so much for granted, including Gothic architecture; the majority of us, for the most part, just pass it up or label it as antiquity and religion because we're so used to it. But for some reason, I'm always drawn back to the gorgeousness of these buildings, the history, the significance, the feeling of inspiration at such breath-taking works of architecture.
Plus, I love the term "flying buttress." Oh shutup. Yes, I still have the mind of a sophomore boy, even though I turn 18 in a month. You would giggle too if you had to learn about flying buttresses.
Whee, lego!
One day, I'm going to travel to France and see every Gothic single cathedral, from the very exterior, to the naive, up the galleries past the lancets and roses, and finally to the towering tops of the spires where the whole world can be seen.