"The Former Cluniac Priory Church at Paray-le-Monial:
A Study of Its Eleventh- and Twelfth-century Architecture and Sculpture,"
(Ph. D. Dissertation, Yale University: 1994)
For a variety of reasons, legal and technical, I have yet to scan-in and establish links to any of the illustrative material. Thus so far I have focused on making sections of my thesis available which have few or no illustrations.
The purpose of this chapter is to draw non-figural capitals into the discussion of Romanesque capitals in Burgundy, and to place non-figural and figural capitals alike in their architectural context. (Note 4) By examining the full range of capital types in the region and by placing them in their architectural setting, we shall see how the popular and scholarly focus on figural capitals has significantly skewed our conception of the role of such sculpture in twelfth- century churches such as Paray. We shall find that there were specific contexts in which figural capitals were thought to be particularly appropriate and others in which they were not. I shall sketch out connections between capital types and the kinds of audience different church types served and suggest that Paray as a priory church was a context in which figural capitals were not appropriate. To understand this we must first start with Cluny III.
The bulk of the figural capitals at Cluny was concentrated in the hemicycle and ambulatory at the east end of the church (Figs. 49 and 50). The half circle of the hemicycle colonnade terminated the longitudinal axis established by the nave and enclosed the most sacred and most important part of the church, the sanctuary which contained the two most important liturgical altars of the building. Seven of the eight columns of the hemicycle carried figural capitals depicting subjects such as the musical tones, virtues and the Rivers of Paradise. These subjects, arranged in groups of four, could be easily disposed around the four sides of each of the capitals.
Hemicycle arcades crowned with a series of figural capitals occurred only rarely in the Romanesque period. Aside from Cluny there are few other churches that have such capitals in that location, making up only a very small percentage of the dozens and dozens buildings that have ambulatories. (Note 5) Even in such an important church as Saint-Benoît-sur-Loire which has both an ambulatory and a rich program of figural capitals, not one of the capitals in its hemicycle is figural. The rare appearance of numerous figural capitals in this location at Cluny must be seen as part of the lavish decorative program that made Cluny stand apart even from other large building programs of the same period such as at Saint-Benoît. The contrast between Cluny and the roughly contemporary Paray in this aspect of their decoration is a stark one.
Why might figural capitals crowning the hemicycle arcade have been so rare? At Cluny, perhaps the earliest example of such capitals, their great height above the pavement (about 30 feet) made the capitals very difficult to see even when standing nearby in the ambulatory. The problem of viewing the figures on these capitals from even so near by as the ambulatory is suggested in a drawing from around 1773 by J.-B. Lallemand depicting the hemicycle arcade from the ambulatory in which the figures are hardly discernible. (Note 6) From the nave or the monks' choir they would have been even less visible. Indeed, because of the overall scale of the building, we can hardly make them out in the view down the nave in the watercolor also executed by Lallemand shortly before the destruction of the church (Fig. 49).
More in scale with the interior of the church and therefore much more visible, and presumably much more important, was the gigantic apse fresco depicting Christ in Majesty. (Note 7) Though lost when the church was destroyed for building material around 1800, we can obtain some idea of the relative importance of monumental painting of the apse fresco in relation to the capitals if we turn to the small Cluniac grange chapel at Berzé-la-Ville about 15 kilometers to the southeast of the abbey. The decoration at Berzé is probably contemporary with and a reflection of the project at Cluny. (Note 8) The size and richness of the apse fresco indicates the dominant role it played in the decorative program of the chapel. In comparison, the capitals at Berzé (some of which are figural), as at Cluny, are unquestionably secondary. Though they contribute to the relative lavishness of the apse, Berzé:'s capitals, like those at Cluny, are quite minor decorative elements. If Cluny III still stood today, its hemicycle capitals would probably not have received as much attention as they have. Instead, at Cluny, as we can see at Berzé, it would be the apse fresco that would have been the focus of this scholarly concern.
All the ink that has been spilled over the "program" of these capitals has perhaps exaggerated their importance. (Note 9) Abbot Hugh, who commissioned the construction of the church, and presumably watched over the decoration of the new structure, might be astounded at the amount of attention that they have attracted in modern times. There are indications on the capitals themselves that suggest that they were considered only secondary in importance. For example, the inscriptions on one capital incorrectly identify the adjacent figures with labels clearly intended for other figures. Apparently even the attempt to remedy this error only led to mislabeling yet another figure, which was ultimately left misidentified. In another words, the mistake of mislabeling and incorrectly identifying the different figures on these capitals was minor enough that it was either not noticed or thought not worth the trouble to correct. (Note 10)
As in most churches, the sanctuary containing the major altars, the area in Cluny III enclosed by the hemicycle, was the most highly decorated part of the building. These figural capitals at Cluny perhaps commenting on monastic life at Cluny, (Note 11) were simply part of the lavish decoration of the sanctuary area. What seems important here was not so much the message, which we have seen must have been almost impossible to obtain because of the great height of the supporting columns, but rather the presentation of a lavish ensemble of materials. Because they were figural, these capitals were more lavish than the capitals used elsewhere in the structure; they drew attention to and emphasized the significance of this part of the church. This sculptural richness along with the rest of the decoration concentrated in the sanctuary, such as the liturgical vessels, tapestries, manuscripts and the like, underlined the importance of the sanctuary. (Note 12) In other less prominent structures, such as the priory church at Paray, such relatively lavish ornamental elements were probably considered unnecessary and inappropriate.
Though a very late testimony, we can turn to a description of the abbey made during the middle of the eighteenth century shortly before its destruction, to support the contention that capitals played an insignificant role in the overall decorative program at Cluny. (Note 13) Because it is very detailed one might expect to find a description of the hemicycle capitals, but the writer does not even mention them. The writer did, however, notice one figural capital on the west portal of the church and noted in passing that it was particularly "de mauvais gout." (Note 14) The writer's eighteenth-century stylistic preferences aside, the description offers an accurate picture of the church at the time. Not surprisingly in the eighteenth century as probably in the twelfth, it was not the relatively minuscule and invisible hemicycle capitals that caught the eye of a visitor to Cluny III but the fresco decorating the vault of the apse above. And this still is the case today at Paray where the sanctuary is dominated by the fresco of the half-dome vault.
The majority of the other known capitals at Cluny, either fragments found during excavation or surviving in the south transept, like those at Paray, are of a completely different design from the hemicycle capitals. While there are a few figural capitals, the vast majority in both the abbey and priory churches are afigural and decorated with various types of foliage. (Note 15)
For the most part, the foliate capitals at Paray and Cluny, which make up the bulk of the ornament at the abbey and priory churches, belong to one of two types. The first, or Corinthian type, is closely based on antique prototypes. The most exquisite example is the one hemicycle capital at Cluny without any figures. (Note 16) Though undoubtedly medieval in date, proportion, style and execution, this capital is very close to Gallo-Roman examples. (Note 17) The antique flavor of the capital is one of a number of classicizing aspects of the architecture and sculpture of Cluny derived from Roman or Gallo-Roman prototypes and possibly intended to communicate the abbey's close association with the Papacy in Rome.
It is the other type of foliate capital that is particularly interesting. This second type is based upon the same classical foundations as the strictly Corinthian type. However, the jungle of acanthus stems making up the outer surface of the bell has been replaced by large sheaths. This large sheath capital was probably the most prevalent type at Cluny. Excavation has revealed numerous fragments and a few examples preserved in their entirety. (Note 18) This type dominates both those that still stand in place on the extant south cross arm of the great transept, as well as those that were removed from the cross arm's tower during restorations.
Examination of all preserved fragments from the Conant excavations at Cluny indicates that outside of the east end figural capitals were little used in the third abbey church. (Note 19) Instead at Cluny as throughout Burgundy from the last quarter of the eleventh century to the last quarter of the twelfth, the predominant capital was the type with the large pair of sheath-like leaves animating its surface.
At Paray, there are only a dozen or so figural capitals in the church. And unlike the figural capitals at Cluny, which are concentrated in one part of the building, those few at Paray are distributed throughout the structure. Moreover, only a few of the foliate capitals at Paray are of the acanthus type. The vast majority of the building's three hundred and fifty odd capitals belong to the large sheath variety (Fig. 46). Similar and roughly contemporary capitals once crowned some of the nave supports of the now destroyed north Burgundian abbey church at Moûtiers- Saint-Jean (Cô:e d'Or). (Note 20)
Why did this type of non-figural capital predominate? In part, eliminating the individual acanthus stalks and replacing them with the large sheath leaves simplified the carving process and perhaps reduced some of the cost. But clearly cost reduction cannot have been the major factor, because intricate carving was still required to shape each capital's bell, volutes, and abacus. The plain surface has even led some scholars to suggest that the sheath capitals were never finished or were left plain with the intention to be painted, such as were the capitals in the apse of the chapel at Berzxxé-la-Ville. (Note 21) This is certainly not the case at Paray, as there some capitals have finely carved detail on their surfaces. (Note 22)
Nor can this type of capital be ascribed to a decline in the quality of the sculpture. (Note 23) Rather, the predominance of the sheath type of capital reflects the careful consideration of the precise function of these capitals. In a decorative program in which figural sculpture is eschewed, their function can become primarily architectonic. This is certainly the case with the sheath type of capitals at Paray (Fig. 46) and at Cluny. The capitals are part of the applied wall armature often marking the exact transition between vault and wall. They appear to carry the load of the vault above, and convincingly transfer the weight downward to their supporting shafts which in turn ultimately appear to convey the load to the pavement. Visually, each capital reacts dynamically to the load as weight seemingly passes from vault to wall. The abacus's curved profile seems the result of the vault's weight which is focused down upon it by means of the transverse arch. The volutes appear to bend as they bear the weight of the abacus and its load. In turn, the large sheath leaves bend to sustain the volutes. The S-shape of the molding of the astragal or necking ring at the base of the capital even suggests that the astragal was some sort of spring coiling under the weight the capital supports.
The dynamic forms of the capital are similar to the dynamic profile and visual function of the base profiles with their convex-concave-convex sequence supporting the columns, the engaged columns and the pilasters. At Paray and Cluny, both capital and base appear to react to the load above, while transferring its weight from vault down to the pavement.
The capitals and bases at Paray or Cluny are only two parts of an entire wall system that was designed to express the dynamics of the building's structure. The wall is girded in an armature of carefully super-imposed orders stacked from pavement to vault, so that the vault's load is made to appear as though it is carried down through the elevation. For the most part, the orders at Paray and Cluny are full orders, made up of base, shaft and capital. The combination of complete orders, proportions, and a carefully conveyed sense of load and support give the elevations at both Paray and Cluny a strongly classicizing appearance that is in marked contrast to the stretched orders of most other Romanesque and Gothic buildings which often rise from pavement to ceiling without any break. (Note 24)
Designing a capital so that, as in a full architectural order, its constituent elements visually express the dynamics of load and support is not an innovation of Romanesque architecture. Classical Corinthian capitals communicate architectonic dynamics. What is new, though, is the willingness to do away with the bulk of references to supposed naturalistic sources. The transformation of the antique prototype is neither haphazard, careless nor due to ignorance. As we shall see, a sheath capital such as Figure 46 has altered the prototype to enhance a special Romanesque visual effect. The supporting role of the outermost layer is more clearly articulated by eliminating the ranges of acanthus stems and replacing them with the smooth envelope of a large single sheath. The entire outer skin now acts in concert to show how it reacts to the weight it carries from above. The large bold forms of the medieval capital would have been particularly important in a building constructed on such a vast scale as Cluny, where they would have been much more visible than the more intricately carved stems of acanthus of more traditional Corinthian capitals.
An interest in communicating load and support was central to the design of these capitals. And they communicate this better than a traditional Corinthian capital. Moreover, they perform this function better than the Cluny hemicycle capitals, which are Corinthian capitals modified by the addition of figures. The figures disrupt the architectonic function and disturb the viewer's perception of a continuous articulation of load and support between vault and pavement. (Note 25)
The sheath capital used at Cluny and Paray is ultimately derived from earlier capitals. It seems to be the result of a classical infusion into a type of capital that had been in use in Burgundy since late Antiquity. Examples of this older type of capital can be seen in the Carolingian crypt of Saint-Germain in Auxerre. (Note 26) This type continued in use down at least through the middle of the eleventh century and can be found at Saint-Pierre-l'Estrier in the hamlet of Saint- Pantaléon just to the east of Autun, and in openings of the diaphragm arches in the crossing of the church of the former priory of Perrecy-les-Forges. (Note 27)
Unlike the older type, though, the new one from Cluny and Paray communicates the classical notion of load and support. Also, in contrast to the rather stout proportions of the Carolingian example, the proportions of the later capital type approach those of their classical prototypes. In addition to reflecting a careful rethinking of the role of the capital in the wall system, the large sheath capitals in the Cluniac buildings also modify the classical Corinthian type along the lines of a traditional Burgundian capital type by adopting its large sheath leaves. This new type was probably developed at Cluny. There, the patrons of the project may have desired strongly classicizing forms to indicate Cluny's very close alliance with the papacy in Rome. The artisans, on the other hand, knew a tradition of carving the older form of sheath capitals. Patron's desire, artisan's tradition and a careful consideration of the role of the capital in the armature of the wall probably led to the new version of the sheath capital type. At Cluny and Paray, this new architectonic sheath type capital dominated all other types.
As stated earlier, the rare figural capitals were relegated to the east end of Cluny, crowning the top of the ambulatory arcade where they played only a minor role in the overall decorative scheme. At Paray, they were virtually eliminated. In contrast, however, figural capitals were used in other Burgundian churches that are either contemporary with or later than Paray. Three in particular, Saint-Lazare in Autun, Sainte-Madeleine at Vézelay, and Saint- Andoche at Saulieu use figural capitals in great numbers. (Note 28) In all three structures, the bulk of the capitals crowning the supports of the nave arcades were figural. The much smaller scale of Vézelay, Autun and Saulieu means that the scenes animated capitals set at only about half the height of those at Cluny; much lower and closer to the viewer, they were more readily visible.
More importantly, they were visible to the general public because of their location in the naves of these churches, the most public part of the structure. At Cluny, on the other hand, the hemicycle capitals were in that area of the building reserved for the monks. Cluny, though the mother church of the most important monastic order of its time, was a church designed for the monastic community that used it. The elaborate east end, with double transept, ambulatory and radiating chapels, was intended to accommodate the monks. The length of the central vessel from just west of the western limit of the major transept to the west edge of the minor transept served as the choir of the monks. East of the choir was the sanctuary containing the major altars. The transepts and ambulatory provided additional areas for the proliferation of chapels that held altars necessary for the ever increasing number of private masses celebrated by the 300 or so monks in residence at the abbey. Contrary to popular notions, an ambulatory is not necessarily used for the circulation of pilgrims around the interior. It probably did not serve such a public function at Cluny. Though some scholars have attempted to give the ambulatory at Cluny a pilgrimage function, the basic fact remains that we know of no important pilgrimage to Cluny, not surprising since the abbey did not hold any important relics. (Note 29)
As the church of a priory, Paray, even more than Cluny, was the private enclave of the monks who resided there. Neither of the monastic churches at Paray or Cluny served the general public at large; both towns had parish churches to serve the local laity. Granted, both of the monastic churches would have offered hospitality to travelers, and surely, because of its importance, Cluny would attract visitors. In addition, both would have opened their doors to the general lay public on major feast days. Nonetheless, Paray and Cluny were primarily designed for and used by their monastic communities.
Vézelay, Autun and Saulieu, on the other hand, all served quite different functions than Paray or Cluny. Vézelay, though a monastery church, was believed to hold the important relics of Mary Magdalen and was the center for an important pilgrimage. This public function of the building was complemented by Vézelay's function as one of the major starting points along one of the major routes of the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. (Note 30) Autun, likewise, was the focus of an important pilgrimage. Though a cathedral today, at its foundation during the late first quarter of the twelfth century, the canons of the episcopal chapter built the church to house and display the relics of Saint Lazarus, the purported brother of Mary Magdalen, the man whom Christ resurrects in the Gospel of John. (Note 31) Saulieu was the burial site of Saint Andoche, whose relics were the focus of a relatively important regional pilgrimage. (Note 32)
All three were intended to provide a proper setting for their relics for the pious hordes that came to visit. Autun, by the end of the twelfth century, had a walk-through shrine with a tableau of nearly half life-size figures. (Note 33) Vézelay and Saulieu each had a crypt to accommodate their relics and facilitate circulation. By their function these churches at Autun, Vézelay, and Saulieu, though controlled by monks or canons, were basically public structures to serve the lay community at large, unlike those at Paray and Cluny which were first and foremost to serve the religious communities residing there.
As mentioned above, the distribution of capital types at Autun, Vézelay and Saulieu was very different from that of Paray and Cluny with a very large proportion of the capitals in the three pilgrimage structures being figural. A small number of these imitate the few figural capitals found at Cluny, but the vast majority of scenes depicted on the capitals of the three pilgrimage churches are rather less esoteric and drawn from Old or New Testament stories, Lives of the Saints, and in at least one case, from classical myth. In the relatively public setting of Autun, Vézelay, and Saulieu we must view all of these capitals, even the last, as aimed at the general lay public that used these churches.
In the Latin west, such an audience was cited as the intended target of religious imagery dating back to the late sixth century when Saint Gregory the Great referred to such images as the Bible of the illiterate. (Note 34) The idea that the general laity was the main audience for religious imagery has been central to the discussion of religious imagery in twelfth-century Burgundy. Important for the contrast that we have distinguished here between the public and private contexts of pilgrimage and monastic churches is Bernard of Clairvaux's "Apologia," which specifically condemned the use of imagery in a monastic setting, but grudgingly admitted that it had its uses in a more public setting. According to Bernard:
For certainly bishops have one kind of business, and monks another. We know that they [the bishops] are responsible for both the wise and the foolish, they stimulate the devotion of a carnal people with material ornaments because they cannot do so with spiritual ones. But we [monks] who have withdrawn from the people, we who have left behind all that is precious and beautiful in this world for the sake of Christ, ...., whose devotion do we strive to excite in all this? ..is it that we have mingled with the gentiles, perhaps we have also adopted their ways and even serve their idols. (Note 35)
At the time he wrote the "Apologia" Bernard was the most articulate spokesman and most important leader of the new Cistercian order whose members believed that Cluny's great wealth, power, and influence had led the older order away from the traditional monastic ideals of poverty and isolation outlined in the Rule of Saint Benedict. The Cistercians felt that the Cluniacs' focus had shifted from the prayer and manual labor, central to Benedict's way of life, to a more worldly orientation. Without a doubt, the Cistercians were especially critical of the lavish expenditure on art and architecture. (Note 36) For them, the immense and richly decorated new abbey church at Cluny stood as the most damning evidence against Cluniacs and their way of life.
Bernard wrote the "Apologia" in the mid-1120s to condemn aspects of contemporary practice which he believed compromised the monastic vocation. Usually, this text has been seen as specific criticism of Cluny and its monastic practices. Recently, Conrad Rudolph has suggested that the critique outlined in the "Apologia" is not aimed specifically at Cluny, but rather at contemporary trends in monastic practice in general. Rudolph suggests that Bernard was particularly concerned with certain lax customs that were developing within his own Cistercian order and felt the need to address these and not merely those practiced by the Cluniacs. (Note 37)
In Bernard's tract, there is a relatively short passage condemning lavish architectural ornament and decoration. Traditionally, this passage has been interpreted as a scathing criticism aimed specifically at the third church at Cluny which would have recently come into use when the text was written. (Note 38) As Rudolph points out, little of the specific criticisms outlined by Bernard could have had anything to do with the new building. For example, some of Bernard's fiercest condemnations, found in what is perhaps the most carefully crafted rhetoric of the entire tract, were aimed at figural floor mosaics in the church he describes and at figural capitals in the cloister he analyzes. These comments by Bernard clearly do not refer to anything at Cluny, as Cluny had neither figural floor mosaics in the abbey church nor figural capitals in the cloister. (Note 39) Surely we cannot assume Bernard made such statements out of his ignorance of the architecture and decorative program at Cluny, but rather as Rudolph suggests, we must see that Bernard's purpose was not a critique of Cluny in particular, but of practices he felt inappropriate for monasteries in general.
Though not specific criticisms of any one church in particular, we should not ignore Bernard's denunciations. What is key to understanding the "Apologia" is the general thrust of his argument. First, Bernard clearly dislikes lavish expenditure on church building especially as investment for expected donations from the pious laity. Though not aimed at Cluny III specifically, Bernard's general criticism on this account was certainly applicable to the new church at Cluny. Bernard was quite right about the great expenditure to enhance Cluny III. The interior was certainly lavishly decorated, and Bernard believed that such expenditures were better offered to the poor.
Secondly in the "Apologia," it was not only the wasted expense that irked Bernard; he also believed that such elaborate ornament served only to distract the monks from their prayers and meditation, especially if the ornament were figural; hence his condemnation of the figural capitals. Bernard felt that such images would be especially pernicious if they were located in the cloister, where the monks were supposed to give themselves over to reading sacred texts. As mentioned above, the example of figural capitals in the cloister is not applicable to Cluny, but the general idea of ornament as an unneeded distraction could well be, though probably best seen in the once very visible, but now destroyed, apse dome decoration of the third abbey church rather than in the ambulatory capitals.
We need, however, to look more carefully at what Bernard's criticism of figural imagery is aimed at. For Bernard in the quote cited above, it is not so much the existence of figural capitals, as it is their location that arouses his ire. Elsewhere in the tract, he develops this idea of appropriateness of location for images and grudgingly admits that images might be appropriate in other locations outside of the cloister. For the purpose of educating the laity, he cites the church itself, as opposed to the cloister, as one suitable place. However, Bernard, is most comfortable with the placement of imagery outside of the monastic context altogether whether it be the church or the cloister. Cathedrals, the churches of bishops, like pilgrimage churches, and unlike monasteries, are buildings that serve the laity. Here Bernard is clearly distinguishing between the two different contexts discussed above, lay and monastic. Here as well, Bernard states explicitly that imagery is acceptable within a lay context.
As we have seen, the surviving evidence suggests that there were certain churches where figural capitals were used and others where they were not. In the public pilgrimage churches of Vézelay, Autun and Saulieu such capitals were prevalent. Moreover, the bulk of the figural capitals is concentrated in the relatively "public" part of these buildings, the nave. These images were suitable for the lay public, an important audience of these churches. On the other hand, Bernard makes it clear that they were inappropriate for a monastic setting. By the mid- 1120s when Bernard espoused this idea in his "Apologia," Cluny and Paray had already eschewed figural capitals for the new sheath type capital. At Paray and Cluny, the new capital type was suited to fit into the overall architectonic format of the design of these churches' interiors rather than being a vehicle for imagery to communicate to the laity at large.
In the 1130s when the Cistercian came to build their first monumental churches, they too, not surprisingly, avoided figural capitals. For these projects, the Cistercians adopted the architectonic sheath capital that had been used at Cluny and Paray. For example, at Fontenay (Fig. 60), built between 1139 and 1147 and the earliest surviving Cistercian church, indeed no figural capitals were used. (Note 40) Here, especially in the cloister, we find instead large architectonic sheath capitals similar to those used at Cluny and Paray. Ironically from the standpoint of the traditional art-historical belief, which has tended to see Cistercian architecture and architectural ornament as anti-Cluniac in style, the earliest Cistercian capital type would appear to be Cluniac in origin. Though the Cistercians rejected many things Cluniac, this Cluniac capital type was well suited to their needs and ideology, and like the other Cluniac aspects of their architecture could be adapted for their use.
The death knell of the figural capital as an important ornamental feature in pilgrimage churches was sounded not long after Cluny, Autun, and Vézelay were constructed. In the ambulatory of Saint-Denis, the earliest Gothic structure, abbot Suger chose for his interior not stone sculpture to tell the stories to instruct the pilgrims, but a relatively new medium, stained glass. The former royal abbey is one of the earliest sites where stained glass was first used pervasively. (Note 41) At Saint- Denis, the ambulatory did certainly serve the visiting pilgrims as it allowed them to pass around the sanctuary and peer in at the shrine with the relics situated in the chevet apse. Locating the images in the glass of the windows set at the viewers' own height as opposed to locating them in the stone of the capitals set way above their heads, as at Cluny, assured that the images would be seen. Stained glass, moreover, tied in nicely with contemporary light metaphysics, in which the light was seen as a physical manifestation of the divine. (Note 42) Since Saint-Denis was an important pilgrimage church and thus a place catering to carnal lay folk, Suger would technically not have been open to Bernard's criticisms. Perhaps, however, in turning from stone sculpture to stained glass, Suger was covering all his bets. After all, even Saint Bernard would have been hard put to criticize a work of art, no matter where it was located, if the light of God was believed to permeate it.
Send any comments or suggestions to Minott Kerr at:
mkerr@reed.eduLast Modified: 21 May 1996