Friday, October 11, 2013

BURGUNDY AND THE MIDDLE AGES


Traveling through Bourgogne (Burgundy) is to be transported, as by a time machine, back to the Middle Ages.  While all of France is replete with the cathedrals, abbeys, fortresses and castles that are the stone legacies of the centuries between 1000 and 1500, Burgundy is notably rich in these memorials not only of a bygone time, but also of a bygone worldview.

In addition, Burgundy’s rural landscape is beautiful.  To quote from our trusty Fodor’s, “Passed over by revolutions, left unscarred by world wars, and relatively inaccessible thanks to circuitous country roads, the region still reflects the lovely pastoral prosperity it enjoyed [in medieval times].”
Burgundy landscape viewed from the hilltop town of Vézelay.
Dijon

We took a train from Strasbourg southwest to Dijon, effectively the capital of Burgundy.  (Dijon is also renowned for mustard, though the hand-made variety on which the city’s fame was built is becoming increasingly rare.)  At the heart of the city is the magnificent Place de la Liberation, bounded on one side by the Palais des Ducs (Dukes’ Palace).  For more than a century, 1364-1477, Burgundy was ruled by a succession of four dukes, who were essentially kings and who fought to maintain Burgundy’s ancient sovereignty and independence from France.  Only upon the death of the last in this line did Burgundy become part of France.  (If you’ve mastered Rubik’s Cube, you should tackle understanding Burgundian succession starting in the 11th century.)

The elegant Palais des Ducs was the seat of ducal power throughout that pivotal century.  Today it houses Dijon’s Fine Arts Museum, in one of whose wings are displayed the richly ornamented tombs of two of the dukes – Philip the Bold and his son, John the Fearless (why don’t we have names like that anymore?) – together with a large collection of medieval art and objects related to the dynasty.
Palais des Ducs, Dijon.

Tomb of Duke Philip the Bold and his wife, Museum of Fine Arts.
Detail from the pedestal of the Duke's tomb.
To see the other highlights of Dijon, we followed the “Owl’s Trail,” a walking route through the city that connects numbered points of interest by means of bronze arrows embedded in sidewalks and emblazoned with an owl (the symbol of Dijon), together with a corresponding pamphlet.  Though the commentary in the pamphlet was pitched at the level of a sixth-grader, we still found the self-guided tour enjoyable and informative.

Notre Dame Church, Dijon.

Close-up of gargoyles on the facade of Notre-Dame church.
View of the rear of Notre-Dame church from a medieval Dijon street.
Jardin Darcy, Dijon.
Several days later, we would follow a similar trail through the city of Auxerre, in that case named after “Cadet Roussel,” an 18th-century town official and beloved eccentric, which was accompanied by a better guidebook.

We found Dijon to be a lovely and interesting city, and we understand why it is said to be a favorite of many visitors to France.

Our Route and the Terrain

After two days in Dijon, we rented a car for our tour of the region.  As in Brittany and Normandy, we took suggestions from Fodor’s and the DK guidebook, “Back Roads of France,” to map out a five-day itinerary that took us to six cities via lightly traveled roads through Burgundy’s scenic landscape.  Our route took us north to Troyes (pronounced like the French word for three, trois), west to Sens, southeast to Auxerre, south to hilltop Vézelay (with an eastward detour to see the Fontenay Abbey near Montbard),  southeast to Autun, east to Beaune, and northeast back to Dijon to complete the loop.
Our 17th century hotel (with sloping floor), Troyes.
15th century clock tower, Auxerre.
Between the cities we drove through a rolling terrain of fields, pastures and woodlands, and occasionally, as between Vézelay and Autun, over stouter hill ranges.  To our surprise (being city folk), we saw many farmers on large tractors pulling tillers across vast fields; we assume this autumn plowing facilitates the soil’s absorption of fall rains and winter snowmelt.  Though we saw fewer cows than in Normandy’s dairyland, we saw many pure white Charolais beef cattle.  (French restaurant menus often note that their dishes are made from French Charolais beef; we’re not sure if this is just a point of national pride, or if it arises from concerns about supplements in American beef.)

Burgundy village and fields on the road from Vézelay to Autun.
As the days and miles passed, we were surprised not to have seen any of the fabled Burgundy vineyards.  Then, on the next-to-last day, as we approached Beaune from Autun, we suddenly saw vineyards occupying every available square meter of soil and climbing the hills on both sides of the valley (we even saw a small graveyard with grape vines growing right up to the surrounding wall on all four sides).  Plump grapes could be seen on many vines, nearly ready for the late-October harvest.  Yup, we’re in Burgundy all right.  

Vineyard west of Beaune.

Grapes nearing harvest time.
Cathedrals and Churches Galore

The towns we visited are favored by guidebooks primarily because they feature particularly notable examples of the Middle Ages’ penchant for erecting monumental and stunningly beautiful places of worship.  The main architectural styles reflected in the cathedrals, basilicas and churches that dot the region are Romanesque (pre-10th to 13th centuries) and Gothic (13th to 15th centuries); however, because many of the edifices were built and improved over generations, they often incorporate elements of both styles, and sometimes creative blendings of styles.

Such blending produces a magical result in the Romanesque St. Madeleine Church in Troyes, to which was added in the 16th century an exquisite rood screen that separates the choir (the area around the altar, reserved for clergy) from the nave (where the laity sit).  According to one source, the screen is one of only six that survive in France, many others having been destroyed during the French Revolution.  The church also includes rare colored statues, with remarkably subtle flesh and garment tones.

Gothic rood screen added tot he Romanesque St. Madeleine Church, Troyes.
Detail of rood screen, which separates the clergy from the laity.




A rare colored sculpture of Jesus, St. Madeleine church.
In Burgundy, the purest Romanesque church we visited is the St. Madeleine Basilica, perched on a hilltop in Vézelay.  In the 11th and 12th centuries, pilgrims from all over Europe flocked to the basilica, which was believed to house the bones of Mary Magdelene, but when the claim was disproved, the pilgrim trade slackened.

The Romanesque St. Marie Madeleine Basilica, Vezelay.
Detail of Romanesque frieze (note elongated figures).
Another Romanesque highlight was the 11th  century crypt that lies beneath the later St. Étienne Cathedral in Auxerre.  Besides being a carefully preserved example of Romanesque architecture with its characteristic arches and columns, the crypt has extraordinary 900-year-old ceiling frescoes, including a painting of Christ on a white horse, as described in the Book of Revelation.

11th century Romanesque crypt beneath a later Gothic cathedral, Auxerre.
The crypt features 900 year-old frescoes on the ceiling, including this one of Jesus.
As for Gothic churches, with their soaring towers and stately buttresses, it would be cavalier to say they’re a dime-a-dozen in France, but that’s not far from the truth.  We’d already seen on this trip spectacular Gothic cathedrals in Rouen, Paris, Reims and Strasbourg.  Perhaps that made the lovely Gothic cathedrals and churches we saw in Troyes, Sens, and Auxerre somewhat less special (yes, we’re concerned about becoming jaded), but, for all their similarities, each of these edifices has unique features that make them worth visiting.  Whatever one’s religious beliefs, you can’t help but be moved by the ethereal beauty of these structures’ heaven-stretching vaults and glorious stained-glass windows, as well as by the palpable sense of reverence that pervades them (at least, when devoid of tourist groups).
The Gothic Cathedral of Saint-Etienne, Auxerre. 




































Joan of Arc stained glass window, Auxerre cathedral.
Seeing these magnificent edifices in such profusion – many cities in Europe, including smaller ones like Auxerre, have multiple Romanesque and Gothic churches, the lesser ones only slightly less awe-inspiring than the great cathedrals – can’t help but make one ask, what religious, social, economic, artistic and technological factors lay behind this eruption of church building over half a millennium?  What compelled European societies in the Middle Ages to commit an enormous portion of their financial and manpower resources to this collective undertaking?  Many historians have studied these questions, including the great American historian Henry Adams in his Chartres and Mont St.-Michel, and no doubt there are many plausible explanations.  At the end of the day, though, the thought-forces of the Middle Ages may simply be incomprehensible to the modern mind.
Interior of Gothic cathedral, Sens.







































A stained glass window (including Good Samaritan story), Sens cathedral.
Two Other Medieval Gems

Besides the cathedrals and churches, we saw two other noteworthy medieval institutions.  Outside Montbard, we visited Fontenay Abbey, founded by the Cistercian Order in 1118.  According to a visitors’ guide, “The Cistercians wished to reform monastic life, and to fully apply the rules of St. Benedict (5th century), which prescribed a life of poverty, lived in self-sufficiency and solitude.”  Hard physical labor was central to the order’s way of life, and besides farm work, the monks engaged in mining and the production of iron tools.  The abbey flourished into the 15th century, when the order declined.  The 10-building complex includes a church, the monks’ dormitory, and a forge with an innovative hydraulic hammer powered by a waterwheel.  In 1906 a wealthy banker and art collector from Lyon purchased the property, which had been turned into a paper mill, and restored the abbey to its present pristine condition.    
Monk's passageway, Fontenay Abbey.
12th century church, Fontenay Abbey.



Part of the Fontenay Abbey complex.
In Beaune, we saw the Hôtel-Dieu (also called the Hospices de Beaune), an impressive structure built around a lovely courtyard, built as a hospital to dispense free care to the poor.  The hospital was founded in 1443 by Nicolas Roland, chancellor to the Duke of Burgundy, and his wife, Guigone de Salins, who continued to direct the hospital after her husband’s death.  The endowed hospital provided care for more than 500 years, until a modern replacement was built in 1971.  A huge altarpiece for the hospital’s chapel, tapestries, and other artworks commissioned by the founders are also on display in what is now a museum.   

Courtyard of the15th century Hôtel Dieu, Beaune.
A Note on Restoration

Everywhere we’ve traveled in France, legacy buildings are being cleaned, repaired and restored.  We don’t know if this is an ongoing effort or the result of a recent policy development.  Whatever the cause, it’s heartening to witness this work in progress.  (It must be said, though, that many a desirable photograph has been spoiled by the presence of scaffolding.)

Restoration of France’s great buildings is not a new phenomenon, though, as we discovered when we kept bumping into the name of Eugène Viollet-le-Duc in guidebooks.  Viollet-le-Duc (1814-1879) was a French architect who, starting in the 1830s, was commissioned to restore a remarkable list of famous medieval structures, including Notre Dame cathedral in Paris, the St. Madeleine basilica in Vézelay, the Hôtel-Dieu in Beaune, and the fortified city of Carcassone, among many others.  Evidently Viollet-le-Duc is controversial in conservation circles, as he was an interpreter and embellisher of great buildings, and not a strict restorer, but it’s recognized that many famous structures would have been lost without his efforts.    
Church in Nancy showing results of a multi-year cleaning project.
We dropped off our rental car at the train station in Dijon and boarded a train for the next phase of our journey, in the French Alps.