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The Grand Entrance

Soon it will be “Goodbye 2010s” to an eventful decade and on its wake will resonate “Hello 2020s” in spirits of fresh-found confidence. Despite the anticipations of the prospect of a flourishing brand new year, considering the shifts in attitudes, fixation on praising excess, awful incidents emerging around the world, etc, one can’t help feeling a quiver of anxiety about what have the wheels of fate in store. As the years roll by with an almost frightening rapidity in a fusion of happiness, apprehensions and solidities, experiences prove that there are instances when one could not help feeling like a hooked fish on the time’s line.

Now as we hold up five fingers, four, three, two …. to signify the final-run-down to the Christmas day, the tale of Christmas miracle cannot be aptly told without music. This time around, in our mind’s eye, we go to Salzburg – to that gem of the Austrian Alps of castles, fortresses, churches, museums, parks, and, of course, nature.

Some years ago, we had the pleasure to drive around and savour the enchantment of Austria. Vienna hosted us as the base of our domicile for this visit. A clear rival to Paris in the superiority and variety of its architectural decorations and every style of art, Vienna proffered us a good stroke of fun with the fortunate presence of our friends.

As I wrote in earlier posts, we drove or foot-marched over much of the city to set our sights on the fave haunts of the locals and also on out-of-the-way tourist spots not counting the 18th-century Schönbrunn Palace, the Museums, Wiener Staatsoper, the Burgtheater, Stephansdom, Café Sacher Wien and other coffee spots where no one knows how to make bad coffee.

Hoping to get some more inspiration and to make good of the plentiful time at our disposal, we had jumped in with both feet and visited places as far as Graz, Salzburg, and their vicinities. Without a glitch, those days were mostly bright and of clear blue sky. All the way the only shadow cast was from the trees.

Our trip to Graz was covered in the car and company of my old business friend in Vienna from my days in the Middle East. At Salzburg, we were driven around by Herr Rupert, a gentlemanly fellow who only wanted to please as he took us around. Rupert, as we know, is the name of the patron saint of Salzburg who founded the Abbey of St. Peter’s beneath the sheltering cliffside of Mount Mönchsberg in the center of the Old City. With musical luminaries as talented as Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Herbert von Karajan gracing the annals of the city, the delight of music is so divine and tangible in the air.

Now back to Christmas – a little more than 200 years ago, Josef Mohr (1792-1848), an assistant priest in the sacristan of Oberndorf bei Salzburg wrote a new poem of Christmas flavour at his first parish in Mariapfarr, the village of his father where Josef had cut his teeth as a priest at a young age in 1815.

Although limited to a year, Josef’s clerical term out at Mariapfarr was in 1816 when Prince Klemens von Metternich (1773–1859), the Chancellor of Austria, won repossession of the Province of Salzburg for Austria from the Bavarian crown. The following year, Josef was appointed as curate to Oberndorf, about twenty km from Salzburg. It was a village of boatmen, wooden and stone houses located on the Austrian bank on the serpentine bend of the River Salzach (Salt River/Igonta). Originally a Roman settlement, Oberndorf was mentioned in the Salzburg chronicles as early as 1050.

It is said that a clergyman sees you at your best, a lawyer at your worst and a doctor as you really are. Having taken up residency in Oberndorf, Josef conducted his priesthood which enriched the life of that parish.

During the morning of the day Josef had written the poem, he was with his closest friend Franz “Franzl” Xaver Gruber (1787-1863), a village schoolmaster, song writer and church organist. Josef was attending a celebration in the school house of Franz in the village of Arnsdorf when they realised that there was no really great Christmas song. The Christmas is already right at their doorstep.

And so, the poem Josef wrote celebrates the greatest birthday of all time – illumines the holy night and the birth of a baby in a stable at Bethlehem long time ago. It held the vision of a baby so little and soft – pure as a white flame. Having grown up close to River Salzach, no doubt, Josef must be inspired by the legend of the statue “The Enthroned Madonna with Child” (about 1500) which is believed to be a work of miracles and supposedly washed ashore by the ice-drift in the River Salzach.

At Josef’s instance, Franz who lived in Arnsdorf and performed in the post of organist at Oberndorf since 1816, soon composed tune to accompany the poem in German verses which was named the “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht” (Silent Night). A task he accomplished creditably, Franz’s composition, said to be done during the afternoon of November 24, 1818, was goodness set to music and his idea of perfection lauded the dictum that a good melody must be rooted in the nature of the human voice.

 

The song was performed publically for the first time during the Christmas Midnight Mass of 1818 at St. Nikola parish church at Oberndorf – just a stone’s throw away from the serpentine bend of River Salzach. The working partnership of Josef and Franz was extremely successful – an alliance that would subsequently unite their names famously for all time. Rendering the song as a duet in the plain rural dignity of that church, curate Josef sang the melody and played the guitar while composer Franz sang the bass. It was complemented by chorus of the resident choir. Undoubtedly, Josef and Franz didn’t want to face less than perfection in their song and it made a remarkable effect on the congregation of parishioners of that great Midnight Mass.

In such ready expertness, “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht” had to be first played to guitar accompaniment because the works of the church organ on which it was to be played at the church service was damaged useless probably by the gnawing mice and river flooding. Even though under normal circumstances guitar was not a medium in vogue acceptable to play a German song in the church service, the guitar had become a favoured medium since by that period the six-string guitar had replaced the lute completely and was of greater prominence on the European concert stages.

The work of Josef and Franz more or less would have been confined to the repertory of that parish and slipped into obscurity had it not been for Karl Mauracher, an organ builder, a one-off who came to repair the damaged organ. He took an interest in the song and sought a copy of its text and music to take along with him to his village in beautiful Tyrol in Western Austria which attracts many tourists.

No sooner had they heard the version of the song from the organ builder, the Strasser Quartette, famous for their beautiful singing of Tyrolese mountain songs, was won over by the full zenith of its charm. At length, they added it to their repertoire and performed widely on their concert tours as “The Tyrolian Song” due to its place of birth. It was often considered a folk song but without any known authorship of its poet or musical composer.

Although the Rainers, another singing group had taken “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht” into their shows as early as 1819, it was later sung by the Strasser Quartette before the congregation at the great cathedral of Leipzig, Germany. The song remained unprinted until 1840. Some attributed its melody to Johann Michael Haydn (1737–1806) until the Royal Court musicians in Berlin, in their wisdom, enquired with the Abbey of St. Peter’s (Stift Sankt Peter) in Salzburg about the origin of the Christmas song “Silent Night”, believed to be by Michael Haydn of that Abbey. Through Franz’s son, this inquiry reached the ears of Franz who was then still alive while Josef had since deceased. It was nearing the end of 1854 when Franz set his claim to Berlin and soon after received credit for his creation.

In 1854, the “romanticist on the throne” Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm IV of Prussia (Reign: 1840-1861), whose beautiful Queen consort Elisabeth (Elise) Ludovika of Bavaria who had been brought up in the Roman Catholic faith, took great interest in “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht” following its performance before him by the Berlin Church Choir. He delightfully ordered it be given first place in all Christmas programmes. Curiously, he was the first Emperor of Prussia to enter a Roman Catholic place of worship when, back in 1844, he attended the celebrations marking the completion of the Cologne Cathedral (Kölner Dom). From that distance of time, trooping ahead past events like its performance during the World War I front-line during the Christmas Truce, until today, “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht” was on a moving treadmill fuelled year on and on by popularity – casting a celestial spell upon all Christendom and in a multitude of directions.

During an interview in the early last century, the grandson of Franz produced a copy of the manuscript of “Silent Night” in his possession which he claimed to be a copy made by Franz Gruber in 1836. The original is no longer in existence. It was the oldest known copy and contained the original stanzas penned by Josef for which voices and instruments were arranged.

Presently, the Stille Nacht Kapelle, the memorial chapel blessed in 1937, stands on the site of the old St. Nikola Church which disappeared with time – perhaps consequent to the deadly maelstrom of floods of River Salzach in 1899 when most of the river-side houses were carried away. The year 1899 may be remembered by movie lovers as the year of birth of American actor Humphrey “Bogie” Bogart. He was a Christmas baby born on December 25th. The image of the old chapel can be seen, among other works, on the brochure of Stille Nacht Kapelle and as chocolate-box scenes.

The carols we always associate with Christmas are of very old religious lyric and musical idea. The combination of singing and dancing carols is undated since it existed among people from time immemorial. As one could think of the Christian tradition of the joyful hymn of praise “Gloria in excelsis Deo” the angels sung to the Shepherds, appreciating the Nativity story in a stirring age in our history, the popular mind could also reflect on the soft lullaby of the Nazarene maiden Mary as she lulls her new-born babe to sleep in a manger of that hamlet called Bethlehem (according to a book, the name Bethlehem signifies the “House of Bread“).

Fashions have changed – tastes have altered – the carols may go in and out of favour. Then again, together with the seasonal favourites “O Come All Ye Faithful / Adeste Fideles,” “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing”, the jubilant “Joy to the World”, etc, the soulful Christmas carol “Silent Night” has always sweetened the joyous effect in our home during the Christmas Eve.

As Christmastime shows up annually, we have had our moments in the festivities, feasting and jollities that goes along with it. In common parlance, the Christmas favourite lists: the living room dressed in the house’s finest, the Nativity crib, a brightly decorated tree to glisten and gleam with baubles, tinsel and fairy lights, the mistletoe, the Christmas stockings and gifts, the brass and silver brightly polished, the holiday table laden for sumptuous feast fit for a gastrophile at heart, the seasonal melodies like the “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,” to moon and swoon, to talk over old and new times with near and dear. All those Christmas traditions are perfect and nice to hold on to – and meaningful, too.

The concept of the illuminated Christmas trees in legends of Germany relates to the heathen belief that the new life energy developed after midwinter by all trees and sprigs should be taken into homes to radiate its power among all those who live there. Delightfully, there are other things also not to lose sight of – mind you, to ensure a certain period to reminisce and meditate about all things that one builds too high in one’s mind and to thank for our many blessings.

At this time, Christmas would seem funny here without snow. But we would overlook that – for it has always been so. Then again, certainly there will be melodies inspired by my wife from our collection of her native Weihnachtslieder to ensure this Christmastime will be one of enchantment.

A Merry Christmas full of Joy and Cheer

Jo & Carina

(©Joseph Sébastine/Manningtree Archive)

Catch – as – Catch Can

Excitement is soaring for high-class racing action in Dubai where horses are a passion. This excitement is hardly surprising in the Arabian Peninsula – the region from where the pure-bred Arab stock had emerged to become lauded as the oldest of the world’s recognised breeds – their influence in creation of the Thoroughbred generally acknowledged all over the world.

A land of startling contrasts, Dubai of United Arab Emirates, has, years on, offered a sparkling calendar of interesting equestrian pursuits and leisure activities such as courses for riding skills, show-jumping, dressage, polo, horse riding trips, etc, through its various clubs and stables. The Dubai World Cup (DWC) 2017 will take place on Saturday, March 25 at Meydan Racecourse where the 2017 DWC Carnival is underway.

As for me, UAE is the region in which I had flown in the most number of times, for short visits and transit – like drive traffic, all stop and go, since I very often flew with regional Airlines from the early-nineties – a silent witness to the city’s astonishing growth to today’s modern metropolis, Dubai (which I was told is a mixed Farsi and Arabic word meaning literally, two sides of the water. I have also heard its meaning being referred to the Hindi words “Do – bhaee” (Two – Brothers)! Few documents may exist before 1799 when the local inhabitants were primarily engaged in fishing and harvesting pearls. But at the creek of Dubai, one can still see the big wooden dhows and smaller, short-keeled sambuqs.

Of the many activities complementing the Dubai World Cup is a Solo Show by Said Atabekov, the internationally renowned Uzbekistan born contemporary artist, who now lives and works in Kazakhstan.

Titled “66 Lbs”, Atabekov’s show featuring photo, video and site installation, can be viewed at Andakulova Gallery (Unit 18, P4 Level, Damac Park Towers DIFC) in Dubai during March 06th – May 12th, 2017. What attracted me to this show is not simply because it featured horses.

With a good number of original “sporting art” also bolstering our love of arts, paintings of sedate hunting or race horses are not alien to our house. From the horse’s first appearance in a convincing anatomical form in an Assyrian bas-relief of the seventh century BC, at length, it has been an inspiration in all forms of arts and later in literature for the majesty and grace of this spirited animal “par excellence”. Over time, many terms sprang out of its name: horse-radish, horse-parsley, horse mushroom, iron horse, pale horse, white horse, brazen horse, wooden horse, Trojan horse, horse bridge, horse-power, horse trading, …..

The largest physiques of horses I have come across, to name but a few, are the set of four horses (Triumphal Quadriga) at Basilica di San Marco in Venice; the wooden horse inside il Salone of the Palazzo della Ragione; Donatello’s equestrian statue of Gattamelata on Piazza del Santo (both in Padua); and such other statues in many piazzas and squares in Europe.

According to classical mythology, Poseidon created the horse. Indeed, from the domestication of the horse, possibly by the tribes of the steppes flanking the Caspian Sea thousands of years ago, the horse has been the friend and companion of man, prized for his beauty, loved for his docility. Eaten, sacrificed, worshipped, it gradually became a means of transport, communication and of horseback conquest in the heroic age. As a story goes, in the early centuries before Jesus Christ, when the Greeks colonised Southern Italy and brought in thousands of horses, the luxurious people of Sybaris trained all their horses to dance to the sound of music – of flutes in particular. Then again, there was also a time when some were addicted to the atrocious practice of sacrificing live horses to their gods or bury them with their masters.

The show’s distinctiveness is the bridge the artist has built between the past and the present with strong images that resonate with tradition – with emphasis on the ancient nomadic game of Kokpar of Kazakhstan. A primitive version of polo, played in two considerably different forms: tudabarai and qarajai, the game Kokpar  has two (or more) teams on horseback competing to pick a headless goat carcass off the ground (zamin-gir) without dismounting or snatch it from someone else at full gallop (chakka-gir) and carry it over the goal line. Usually, the credit for best horsemanship, strength and courage goes to the winning team.

Being aware of this as I am – it is gross the way it sounds. But the element of my main interest in this equestrian sport, part of the cultural backbone of some countries, is merely the nomadic tradition and the strict set of rules it accentuates. According to this solo show, the mandatory weight of the animal carcass used for the game which is fixed as 66 Lbs – hence, the title of this Show.

The Kazakh horses are traditionally an ancient breed originally bred in that region and are exceptionally hardy and competent to withstand extreme climatic conditions. Kokpar (known in a variety of names or simply as “catch-as-catch can”) of the Central Asian countries is one of the games fostered not only out of necessity – but also for recreation as well. The game, which probably owes it origins to the period of reign of the Macedonian king Alexander the Great (B: 356 BC – D: 323 BC) or Genghis Khan (B: 1162 – D: 1227) of the Mongol Empire, or to the Turkic-Mongol people, is part of the contests devised to provide, in times of peace, excitement as well as to retain fitness, readiness and skill of horse and horsemen for sudden deployment in unexpected wars. Such activities also aided to counter their boredom resulting from specific exercise in one place.

Specialization in such games enabled the noblest horse and its valiant rider to attain mutual equilibrium as one unit – as can be visualised in the artistic depiction of half-man and half-horse – the fabulous centaur of Greek mythology – the fusion where man dominates mentally and dictates the strategies taking advantage of the obedience, physical strength and exceptional memory of the horse – a feat attained from the animal owing to kind and patient training.

Whereas, in the mounted folk game of Kokpar, known in Afghanistan as Buzkashi (buz, a goat and kashidan, to pull) (Mongolian baz-kiri), the goat (or calf) carcass is the objective for the contesting buzkashi riders (chapandazan) who to carry it off to a “goal”.

The 51-year old artist Atabekov has captured the vibes and thrill of Kokpar by actually riding amidst the two teams of powerful masculine participants on powerful horses – his camera mopping up their emotions, vanity, endurance and the intensity of their action in all its complexity.

The mayhem of lurching, rearing, bumping, kicking, biting, leering, cursing in the midst of dust, noise and sweat as it happens when they engage in grapple from each other in fierce competitive spirit, sometimes (unintentionally!) hitting out at the opponents (not at their horses) with their camchin (buzkashi whip with wooden handle). In his relentless effort, the artist has endeavoured to draw attention of the viewer to the game and spirit of Kokpar and the national sport of Kazakhstan.

Back to you…soon. Jo

The concluding instalment of this two-part serial will follow.

Notes:

  1. The horse in the title header is one of those stationed by the Colosseum of Roma, Italy
  2. My thanks are particularly due to Karen Fernandez, Andakulova Gallery, Dubai for her interest and the pictures and in-put on the artist.

(© Joseph Sébastine/Manningtree Archive)

Heirlooms – On Memory Trail

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Concluding instalment of the two-part serial: Heirlooms – Old Habits Die Hard

Whenever we travel to countries where we have consolidated friendships, we often get the wonderful chance to attend parties. To be honest, when I am away from home, I would rather be a guest there than a host.

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Some fifteen years ago, attending a dinner party in the house of a Singapore businessman I know in a professional capacity, I had the opportunity to see some fine examples of old walnut, and mahogany cabinets of his Indonesian ancestors, dating back to the 18th century.

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Whenever I popped over to Singapore, a country of gentle memories for me, we would set aside business interests and shared wonderful dinner time when he would bring his personal histories up to date. A sparkling personality, whenever he spoke, he had that confident reassuring voice you feel when an aircraft pilot speaks before the take-off.

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Once, I got so engrossed in the history of Dutch Batavia and romance of each cabinet (couple of them were in marquetry) explained by my friend that our earlier conversation about Australian Aboriginal breast-plates was completely overridden in his talk. It was real pleasure to closely see those lovely “conversation pieces” and perceive how his narrations about family possessions developed as an acute reminder of the joys and fascinations of collecting.

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Romance and antique collecting go hand in hand. Speaking about Fort Cochin in our local grounds, an area which had experienced Portuguese/Dutch/English settlement since 1500s, old reputed (especially Anglo-Indian) families of Fort Cochin once had many valuable possessions reminiscent of that era.

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These heirlooms had pride of place in their living room as something that is functional and to enhance the home and status. Many early family heirlooms such as old furniture, Christian figures, wall carvings, photo frames, porcelain, books, bric-a-brac, have, over the years, been lost due to negligence, lack of proper antique restorers, shifting of residence or on the open market – some of which can still be found in those local don’t-touch-or-we’ll-make-you-pay sort of places in Jew Town. However, for most of such families, besides the traditional recipes from that bygone era, a Bible or framed photos of ancestors, family photo albums or a wedding dress or similar has always retained their charm as heirlooms.

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8Having recognised the value of their possessions in context with the settlements, I believe there are still those few who had refrained from throwing out a potential pot of gold. They have retained them for their descendants in perpetuity.

In the future, those items must become worth more for sheer rarity, apart from its association with our past. Who knows what things scorned today will be tomorrow’s highly prized?

The possessions in our home which we consider precious could not all be of great monetary value but nevertheless remain priceless to us. One of the near recent additions is an early 19th century Bible, quite bulky and slightly soiled, which we acquired from an antique seller in Portobello Road near Notting Hill Gate in London.

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Even though we had to pay through the nose to acquire it, that was less worrying compared to the effort it took to bring it home to Cochin since, during that trip, we had to traverse in a pre-scheduled journey by Eurotrain to Paris, and to Milan, to Padua, to Florence, to Rome and home via Dubai. Having brought home under the stewardship of our daughter Bianca, its arrival here was met with such greater happiness that all those hardships seemed insignificant.

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For ages, the Bible, the world’s most famous book, has not only earned its place as an important family heirloom, but has gained an accretion of ceremonial use. The last time we saw the images of couple of Bibles together was on the television when beautiful Melania Trump’s hands held two Bibles upon which her husband, President-elect Donald John Trump took the ceremonial oath of office as the 45th President of the United States of America, on January 20, 2017.

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I understand that the bigger Bible, an 1853 King James version bound in burgundy velvet with metal trim, which rested directly on soon-to-be First Lady Melania’s right palm belonged to President Abraham Lincoln upon which he was sworn in for his first inauguration in 1861. The smaller one on the top belonged to President Trump, gifted to him by his beloved mother on June 12, 1955.

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If that smaller Bible has not already been regarded as a family heirloom, the occasion of that swearing-in ceremony has no doubt catapulted its transition into one. Maybe, that Bible would eventually be passed over to one of President Trump’s children – probably to his youngest son.

5The strength of a nation lies in the individual. And the people are progressive. Who can predict now the chance that, probably many years into the future, on a January 20th, that son himself may stand tall at the same spot where his father had stood at the west front of the Capitol in last January, with his left palm resting on his heirloom Bible.

Predictions are difficult. Going forward, only God knows who has more than a walk-on-part in history. So this is faith. Until next time, Jo

PS: Dear reader, this article about family heirlooms is definitely apolitical.

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(©Joseph Sébastine/Manningtree Archive)

A Winsome Sweet ‘17

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2The New Year’s Day 2017 has arrived with hopes – giving new courage and belief for a fresh start. The transitory period when the old year gives way for the new often kindles a curious manifestation of optimism in us and inspires hope for a “happy and better New Year” – free from the misfortunes of the year just gone by. Inwardly, this feeling is merely a repetition of the optimism that inspired us at earlier New Year’s Eves when it was wished that the ensuing New Year would bring its own heaven. Even though the year’s outcome was contrary to our expectation, yet again, when the clock struck the first note of midnight at the New Year’s Eve, and the bells ring, the fire crackers were lit, Auld Lang Syne was sung to be followed by other old, new, nostalgic medley of seasonal carols and songs, and toasts were raised, we take fresh heart to, once again, hope for the best.

New Year’s Day is the eighth day after Christmas and traditionally, bears the name “Octava Domini” (In Octavas Domini) in the Gelasian and Gregorian Sacramentaries. The first of January appeared as an ecclesiastical festival at Rome for the first time at the beginning of the ninth century, where it is called from the first Circumcisione Domini. The idea and date of this festival are derived from the Gospel of St. Luke (Chapter II. 21), since eight days after birth, the Christmas child of Virgin Mary was circumcised and received the name Jesus, a personal name. The year ends with the birth and begins with the naming.

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This year’s crib in our house

The traditions and customs related with New Year’s Day were concerned with bringing good luck for the coming year. When the year dies out at the chimes of the midnight hour, and when the traditional toast and ubiquitous salutations of “Happy New Year” and “Good Health” resonate the air and people hugged, kissed and shook hands; whatever be the attitude of the body, certain thoughts in some of us would become silent prayers turned heavenward, thanking for the past years and hoping for the best times and good health. Holy Toledo! The truth is you cannot savour the joys of life without good health.

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It is also a time for New Year resolution – decisions intended to abandon a bad habit or adopt a good one in the New Year, most popular being the decision to give up smoking and to diet which are always updated as time passes by. According to a survey, two people out of three made such resolutions but most soon break them.

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Back in December 2013 we were in Bangkok for the festive season. There was political unrest in the country at that time between red and yellow shirts. But rather than let the tourism go haywire and celebration of people curtailed, the sensible local authorities, very efficient to cope with the matters of their positions and departments, did not clamp on any undue restrictions which was laudable.

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On that warm Saturday morning of December 2013, I was waiting to keep my appointment at one of my favourite Foot Reflexology parlours in Bangkok which I had managed to reach from my hotel with some difficulty. As many of you will know, Bangkok is notorious for traffic congestions, but since yesterday (Friday, 27th) the streets were unusually packed as the New Year revellers flocked out of Bangkok to their villages. A friend of the owner of the parlour, a middle-aged Thai was also in the lobby with me waiting for the arrival of his friend. A great conversationalist, he is known to me from my earlier visits. That was the extent of our acquaintance. Having known that I write about Bangkok, he wisely used my waiting time to give me a run through about some of the many traditions and customs of his land – most of which I had come to know over the years in some finery.

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9When our conversation touched upon Songkran festival (marks the start of the traditional Thai New Year which falls during April), he suddenly switched the topic to the hair style he would be getting at the adjoining salon either on 30th or 31st (specifically on Monday and Tuesday which he believed are the only good days for getting haircut!!) in time for the New Year’s Eve. At that time, his hairdresser would remove the red-shades from his natural jet black hair worn too long by Thai standards. Although I tried to avert the conversation from being nosy about his personal choice, he went right ahead and told that he is clearing the red shades for his elder sister who has invited him to her house for late dinner on the New Year’s Eve which he intended to attend, after cutting-short his own razzle-dazzle with his friends at the local pub.

8As assigned, he would be the “first-foot” to enter his sister’s household to usher in the New Year. This fairly clear-cut custom, which has many versions, is based on a Hogmanay (a New Year’s Eve in Scotland) tradition, and still kept up in some Far Eastern and Australian households.

It is believed that if the first person to cross the threshold of a house after midnight, when the old year ends and the New begins, is a dark haired man, a year of good luck will follow. Since her brother’s last “first-foot”, she had experienced lesser gale over the domestics. And certainly, once more the elements of specific gifts a “first-footer” usually brings which symbolised life, hospitality and warmth is in his consideration to take along with him.

For his sister, who displayed great strength and furious energy to go through the ritual of sweeping her whole house thoroughly on 31st of every December, the recruitment of her brother to make the necessary entrance at her house is rooted on her belief that it should be someone with dark hair and not of her household.

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Family ties are stronger at Christmas and New Year time – and louder, too. First of January is Global Family Day, too. Mind you, he would have his fun in her home ground – the whisky, the songs, the smile, the smells – and the mishmash of games: shuffleboard, Ping-Pong, Bingo, cards, and God knows what else. To reach her home at that time of the night without the bow-wow of stray dogs in her street would be a benefit since any stray dogs living in the premises on New Year’s Eve were particularly cleared because, according to his sister, they brought bad luck.

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People do strange things hoping for best things ahead. Not long ago, a European chef of Mandarin Oriental spoke about a Thai chef’s unbridled enthusiasm for anything associated with superstitions. The Roman belief that misfortune would come into a house by anyone entering with his left foot first, is a custom which is strictly followed with right foot by his family. They have a tradition to criss-cross certain rituals of the Thai Songkran festival also with the customs of New Year’s Day.  The ingredients they used in this respect, forming part of the ritual of bathing of Buddha statues during Songkran, consists of five bowls containing different-coloured floating flowers – each colour to represent prosperity in a variety of forms: Rose Red to bring a tranquil life devoid of obstacles; Marigold Orange to signify success and wealth; Anchan Blue representing strength to overcome obstacles; Pandan Green for peace without problems; and Jasmine White to symbolise a joyful life.

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The question about how a fairly intelligent and even moderately educated person could inwardly believe these superstitions – that number 13 is unlucky, or that one should not start a new venture on Friday, etc., in spite of its universal acceptance, is, how-do-you-say-it, much like a pyramid balanced in unstable equilibrium upon its point. Nevertheless, people do knock on wood; take a pinch of salt and throw it over their left shoulder; or refuse to walk under a ladder, and hope that, “touch wood”, this New Year would hopefully go down in memory as the year they moved into the house of prosperity, good health, peace, joy and all things of goodness – with the baggage of serious misfortune safely left behind. I remember the saying, if you must leave your old house and move to a new one do not take your old broom with you.

Thank you for riding with me during the past year. I raise a toast: Here is wishing my friends and readers a lovely, peaceful and prosperous new 2017. Jo

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(©Joseph Sébastine/Manningtree Archive)

NOTRE DAME WILL STAND – Part II

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Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail,

“There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.”

Here at last, we are at the queue at Portail de Sainte-Anne and these lines from: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, The Lobster Quadrille (The Mock Turtle’s Song) by Lewis Carroll (1832-1898) had crossed my mind. To whoever was right behind me at the queue – there certainly was urgency to get into the cathedral.

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Once inside, we would soon realise that the timing of the visit to Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris was perfect for us. Before we could explore the double aisles, various chapels, rose windows, the ambulatory, etc, our attention was drawn to the streams of music wafting from the central transept where, we soon found the Chorus, soloists and an orchestra in jubilant mood – practising a classical music concert. So that explained the urgency at the queue.

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In comparison with its length, the cathedral is extremely broad. Standing over the black and white coloured floor tiles at the west end, the interior appeared well lit though I could see a marked variation between the principal nave, the transept and the chancel.

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However, despite the changes made to provide more light to the tribunes, in gloomy weather, the cathedral can still appear sombre and even cavernous. This subject about the light reminded me of an entry I once read in the Duchess of Windsor’s (Wallis Simpson) memoirs: “….As the Prince of Wales (Edward VIII) walked past, I (Wallis) overheard him mutter to his uncle, the Duke of Connaught: “Uncle Arthur, something ought to be done about the lights. They make all the women look ghastly.” (1)

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Good music often transports me into another dimension. Slipping into a wooden bench nearer the transept, we spent some time in glorious musical bliss while the 14th century Statue of Virgin Mary Holding the Christ Child joyfully watched over us as she leaned against the south-east pillar where an altar dedicated to the Virgin had stood earlier. This work is dedicated to “Notre-Dame de Paris” and the most distinguished of nearly 40 representations of the Virgin inside the cathedral.

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At every moment in the world, things change and the shape of things to come seldom announced its presence among us, but later on. It was as if fate had planned our visit to arrive here right on our schedule. Had we lingered longer by the banks of the Seine and watched the barges and bateaux mouches float silently along the river; or indulged longer to thumb through dusty volumes at the quayside bouquinistes’ stalls selling bouquins (old used books) and other special treasures, while enjoying the kiss of the sun from above; or idled more time away sitting under the candy-stripped awning of the open-air café on the chestnut-lined boulevard, with a lingering glass of red and a croquet-monsieur, relishing the general joy of watching the moving stream of pedestrians; – then, we might never have reached this cathedral to enjoy the musical treat on that day. Punctuality works! Carina always said Punctuality is indeed my first, last and middle name.

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I was too entranced in the music to turn around to look up the nave at the West end where, directly below the artistic upper West Rose window is situated the great organ (one of the three) – a marked feature of the Cathédrale. Rebuilt by Thierry Lesclope in 1730, enlarged in 1785 by Cliquot, and improved by Cavaillè-Coll, it is reputedly the largest organ in France, There is no need for me to look back at it now. I had endeavoured to study it during earlier visits and my mental picture of that area is clear down to the upper ends of the organ’s pipes obstructing the lower half of that Rosette.

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Presently the musical performance came to a close, and a wave of applause swept through the cathedral. Most of the crowd, as if signalled by an internal green alert, had started to head for the exit – possibly, in search of the sun.  We resumed our exploration along the far-stretching southern aisle, passing the great cylindrical columns rising to support the vaulted ceilings, their weights being shared by the external flying buttresses on both sides of the huge structure. On our right was the line of chapels forming part of the numerous chapels around the walls.

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I can well understand why Notre Dame de Paris has had a splendid acceptance. In its long course of construction, this edifice had to transit through the art movements of Romanesque and the Gothic, a progression that branded it as a transitional structure. The gauzy structure of Gothic architecture resulted in the rise of stained glass, the virtual elimination of solid wall space and transformed the walls as connecting space for windows. At that time, the thought crossed my mind that all this would be of professional interest to my second daughter Andrea, engaged with her studies in architecture back home.

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An important feature on the southern side of the slightly projecting transept is the Rose window. Now this is an artful creation of bold, simple trellis designs with an amazing arrangement of stained glass work. The most frequent background was a red trellis on a blue field. During an earlier visit, I overheard a local guide mentioning about the window’s primary colours to a group of American tourists, suggesting that “it is very drawable.”

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But if we observe it with a painterly eye, there is a revelation. We could see the predominant blue dissolves for different colours; and the window glows in pink and crimson tones. The colours had been there to be found all the time. When taken as a boy to Notre Dame, it was this rose window of the south which seized upon the imagination of the great architect Viollet le Duc (January 1814 – September 1879) and stirred his passion for Gothic. In “Paris; the Magic City by The Seine”, author Gertrude Hauck Vonne explains that situation: “While gazing at it the organ began to play, and he (Viollet) thought that the music came from the window – the shrill, high notes from the light colors, and the solemn, bass notes from the dark and more subdued hues.”

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2-013As we proceeded further ahead, we would notice that not only the nave, but the choir, possessed double aisles. To our right was the entrance to The Sacristy (formerly part of the Palais Episcopal) and The Treasury which housed many precious things. Before going around the magnificent semi-circular apse at the east end to the northern aisle, one could see the High Altar; the three large statues: the Descent from the Cross; Louis XIII, (both by Guillaume Coustou, 1677 – 1746) and of Louis XIV (by Antoine Coysevox, 1640 – 1720). The Ambulatory (pourtour) of the Choir was raised above the body of the church by three steps, both sides enclosed by a low grille in wrought iron with gilding. I could well imagine the magnificent set-piece of pageantry of various ceremonial occasions held here; and how the echoes of many “Te Deums” had resonated inside these old walls for victories long forgotten, and for those many long remembered.

The removable stones of the pavement close to the small organ on the north side of the choir lead to a subterranean burial chamber for eminent officials of the cathedral. Remains of a small Gallo-Roman votive pillar to Jupiter (which I had mentioned in the First Part) were discovered some six feet beneath the apse during excavations for this crypt during 1711.

Prior to the northern Rose Window, one could see the famous Porte Rouge (Red Door), a masterpiece that dates back to the 14th century. It derived its name from its painted doors.

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Corresponding with the statue of Notre-Dame de Paris on the south is a statue of St. Denis by Nicolas Coustou in the north. Although many of the treasures were destroyed by the Revolution, granted there is time and inclination to explore the interior, one could spot the intrinsic beauty of many things that were well made – the sexpartite system of alternating ground supports, the clearstory, the stone step, the various windows, moulding round the doors, an artistic door handle, the numerous sculptures, fine chandeliers, paintings of much value ,… and the flowers at the foot of the statue of Notre-Dame de Paris which seem, to some, suddenly glow as if they were lit from within.

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Having purchased a Médaille for Andrea from a counter at the west end, we walked out through the northern Portail ae la Saint Vierge. In the bright sunlight one could clearly see the splendid character of the ironwork of the outer doors.

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Curious tradition relates this to the skill and energy of the devil. Up above, the grotesque representations of Chimères and gargouilles or “Devils of Notre Dame” lurked on strategic locations of the cathedral, scowling down from their point of vantage upon the French metropolis – probably their mark of attention even reached our present hotel somewhat closer to Basilique du Sacré-Cœur – one of the many hotels of Paris noted also for its number of French oils – impressionist, expressionist, and abstract.

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As we took leave of Notre Dame de Paris, I reflected on the staying power of this ornate feat of architecture – this edifice of a community’s tangible bygone days. Have I missed something here? Although individual escape from the present into the past has rarely been more widespread than it is now, there is another side of the coin of course. Recently the world has witnessed the cruel destruction of historical monuments to suit the ideologies of certain groups.

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In September 2016, The Telegraph (UK) reported the discovery of upto seven cylinders of gas tanks and documents in a specific language in an unmarked Peugeot 607 next to Notre Dame cathedral, sparking fresh terror fears. Condemnations and appeals against such ideologies were heard. Victor Hugo’s 1831 novel, Notre-Dame de Paris, was the product of a similar protest and aimed to draw attention of his contemporaries to deter the destruction of existing architecture.

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By visiting and polishing up our love for noble monuments of the past, relating the stories behind their construction, understanding the masters who build them in their times, we not only comprehend the traditions, aesthetic and cultural history of an area but also of the high-values reached by civilization. Time is the most precious commodity I possess. I am glad that the hour glass of my life is also filled by precious moments like the favourite footpaths I have treaded in the course of my visit here – helpful journeys into the past which I am excited to make from time to time. And, hopefully, when I come back here again, I know Notre Dame de Paris will be here – waiting. Jo

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Notes:

  • Besides other improvements, the Cathedral’s lighting system was upgraded by late 2012 owing to a year-long 850th anniversary celebration.
  • For those in need of flowers for Notre Dame de Paris, there is a huge selection at Marché aux fleurs, Place Louis Lépine – Quai de la Corse near Cité Metro Station.
  • I am indebted to many publications dating from the late 19th century onwards, for useful background data;
  • This article is dedicated to my daughter Andrea Lalis Sebastine, the architect in our family.

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(©Joseph Sébastine/Manningtree Archive)

NOTRE DAME WILL STAND

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“The Gothic of Verona is far nobler than that of Venice;

and that of Florence nobler than that of Verona.

… that of Notre Dame of Paris is the noblest of all.”

  • The Seven Lamps of Architecture by John Ruskin

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The day was bright and filled with leisure hours. We would not have wished to be anywhere else in the world on that day but in the grand Cathédrale of Notre-Dame in Paris, the capital of elegance and art. With the presence of our daughter Bianca, the last few days had swiftly accelerated and rolled away quickly. She was absolutely vibrant. Having visited the central landmarks and point of identification, viz., the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, Sacré-Cœur, The Louvre and Mona Lisa, all of which has been absorbed into the tradition of Paris, we had decided to take her to other blessedly French places not to be missed including Palais Garnier (Opéra de Paris). She had done her homework and knew there was far more colour and nerve in Paris.

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Long before all the above landmarks came into existence and well before the city came to be known as Paris, “Lutetia” (Lutetium) as it was known during the Late Empire, was centred on a small island in the shape of a cradle in the Seine called Île de la Cité, the heart of the city. Years later, it was here on the pavement in the great plaza called Parvis Notre-Dame – Place Jean-Paul II (1) before Notre-Dame de Paris that the official centre of Paris was landmarked with a bronze star on an embedded plaque – proclaiming the central place of Notre-Dame in the country’s life.

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This bronze star, (placed by André Jules Michelin), is the point-zero (Point-Zéro des routes de France) for measuring distances from Paris. The local tip-off is that: a) if you stand on the bronze plate, you will return to Paris; b) your love will last forever, if you stand on it with your lover and share a kiss. No reward for guessing what I have often done there.

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I know, so much has been written and said about Notre Dame. But, until last time I was here, I never thought that Notre-Dame de Paris is best seen from behind the flying buttresses at the east end. This time around, having reached the area via Quai Saint-Michel, we had crossed the Petit Pont (Little Bridge, erected in 1853) and entered the Parvis (square) which now dwarfs the apocalyptic west façade with its great area. The Parvis was indeed much smaller before Georges-Eugène Haussmann (1809-1891), while remodelling Paris for Napoleon III in the nineteenth century, cleared the structures which clustered before the cathedral and enlarged the Parvis, adding different features to it.

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The Parvis was crowded with people – we could pick up the scent of liveliness in the air. Moving past the Crypte Archéologique du Parvis de Notre-Dame, we came across the high stone base bearing “Charlemagne et Ses Leudes”, the imposing bronze equestrian statue of Emperor Charlemagne accompanied by his leudes: Roland and Olivier. It was sculpted by brothers Louis and Charles Rochet in time for the L’Exposition universelle de 1878 (third Paris World’s Fair – open to the public: May 20 to November 10, 1878). Since its erection in the square, it not only has outlived the threat of displacement but also has remained a mute spectator at the area which has played a vital part in so much of France’s history.

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If one would track the olden times back from the time of Charlemagne to the origins of Paris, we would find that it was the military importance of Île de la Cité which had motivated the Romans to build the city of Lutetia where there was a small settlement of Gallic tribe of merchants and fishermen called Parisii. Given that the spot was already hallowed by a Druid shrine, no wonder a place of worship for Jupiter came up – the remains of this altar will be mentioned below.

The Roman occupation had ushered in Christendom and from the wreck of the Roman shrine rose a cathedral – just like many mediaeval churches of Western Europe which claim a pre-Christian origin. In his book about Paris, author A.J.C Hare relates that a church dedicated to Saint-Étienne (St. Stephen) was built on the islet about the year 375. (The website of Notre Dame states: This cathedral dedicated to Saint Stephen was very large. Its western façade located about forty metres west of the current façade of Notre-Dame – which is where we are presently sitting now.) Adjacent to Saint-Étienne, an edifice far more rich and beautiful was built in 528 and dedicated to the Virgin Mary (Notre-Dame II), the substructions of which were found during excavation of the Parvis during the 19th century. Notre-Dame II had subsequently assumed a pre-eminence among the churches and for the faithful, became the center of the Christian cult.

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During the three hundred years between 1050 and 1350, 80 cathedrals, 500 large churches and hundreds of small parish churches were built in France alone which reflected the wealth and variety of the country’s history and architecture. It has also been regarded as the most typical expression of medieval civilization. It was a period when the country’s faith was humble, her love a mounting flame. Following the construction of the abbey of St. Denis (now Basilique cathédrale de Saint-Denis) on the grave of Saint Denis north of Paris in 1144, there was strong plea for a cathedral much longer and upward looking than Saint-Étienne’s in Île de la Cité, – a cathedral worthy of the great demographic expansion and economic dynamism of Paris. With the low hills region such as Butte Saint-Jacques, nearby Bagneux, Arcueil, and Montrouge dispersed with great beds of granite and limestone, there was hardly any shortage for building materials. Without totally destroying the existing two churches, Maurice de Sully (elected bishop of Paris on October 12, 1160 – died in 1196) commenced to build a new edifice on the same site. It is generally held that Pope Alexander III laid its foundation stone in 1163.

8 Prior to the start of the work, the Rue Neuve-Notre Dame was created to make it easier to bring the masonry. With the center of worship shifted to the nave of the older Notre-Dame II, the foundations of the new cathedral were dug thirty feet deep and filled with the hard stone of Montrouge on which the enormous weight would rest. The construction was done by professional workers organized in accordance with the traditions and rules of the guilds, and the powerful Chapter of Notre-Dame.  The underlying efficiency of the work done is that the vault webs of Notre-Dame are only 6 inches in thickness and they have held steadfast for 850 years!

The chancel was built first so that the church could function. The choir’s high altar was consecrated in 1182. The nave (with the exception of the extreme west end) was realised about the year 1195 (the year Santo Antônio de Pádua was born in Lisbon.) Under Eudes de Sully (died 1208), the successor of Maurice, the work on the west façade which begun in 1202 was completed to the base of the gallery by 1223. The galerie des rois (the Gallery of Kings) was completed under Guillaume de Seignelay (1219-1224).  The twin towers (without the spires) were realised by 1235. A transept was not in the original plan, but a short one was inserted before the nave was laid down. Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) was in Paris during the time the transept was being built. After visiting the chapel of the Virgin behind the choir in 1323, French philosopher, theologian Johannes de Janduno wrote, “On entering one feels as if ravished to heaven, and ushered into one of the most beautiful chambers of paradise.” Although the cathedral was never completed consistent to the plan of the original designers, when the work was finally realised circa 1345, the edifice presented an irregular alignment due to interruptions in its construction.

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God must have danced around me when I was born – for as it turned out, I have been generously blessed with occasions to travel far and wide – and most importantly in the presence of wonderful persons. For the past few days, Carina was having fun naming to me the various trees adorning Paris: the Linden- and Horse chestnut trees along the Seine; Honey Locust, Mimosa, Empress, Cherry…… and many others including the London Plane by the Avenue des Champs Élysées. That was hardly a fortuitous coincidence, but in lieu of the movie locations of Roman Holiday (1953, William Wyler) which I pointed out to her in Rome on a spring-like day – few of which she knew!

My theory/schedules of longer periods of stay and repeated visits to a given place has aided my endeavours for in-the-field study of important subjects augmented with the minute details of history and architecture available in various writings. The day before, Carina brought me a book from a little shop across from our hotel, which I had been looking to buy for a long time. Everything comes to he who waits. This book to which the quote on the header relates, had given me the right disposition to write this article. But for me, to be in the presence of a cathedral of religious, cultural and architectural significance such as Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris is good fodder in that respect.

We have now moved closer to the cathedral. From where we sat, we could clearly view the features of the major divisions of the west façade crowned by two towers. Dissimilar in size, the towers rose from a parapet or pierced cornice which surmounts an open arcaded screen of gigantic proportions. The spires for the two towers of Notre Dame, originally planned by the builders, were never made.

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At the top of the towers are open arcades and small turrets where the staircases end. The panoramic view of Paris from up there is also complimented by the full structural beauty of the cathedral – its grand arrangement of flying buttresses, the great roof ridge, fléche (built in 1859-60 since the ancient fléche was destroyed in 1787), the circular chevet, the host of statues, gargoyles and other sculptured ornaments.

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Atop the south tower, one can see the great bell or bourdon of the cathedral which was re-foundered and re-baptized “Emmanuel” (Emmanuel-Louise-Thérèse) in 1686 in honour of Louis XIV, and Marie-Thérèse of Austria. According to a book by Esther Singleton, it was originally named “Jacqueline“ in honour of Jacqueline de la Grange, the wife of Jean de Montaigu (about 1349 – 1409) who had presented the bell in 1400 (very interesting – must read up this history). You could listen to the sound of Emmanuel, topping over the other bells, in Youtube videos featuring liturgical ceremonies of the cathedral.

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Under the division containing the wheel window is the Gallery of (28) Kings running across the entire façade. The figures we see now are restorations. Directly below, on ground level, are the three great portals – all asymmetrical in height and width and in sculptural subjects.

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Le Portail du Jugement – Central doorway

The Portal of the Last Judgment (Le Portail du Jugement) occupies the central doorway with The Portal of the Virgin (Le Portail de la Vierge) on the left, and commemorating the Blessed Virgin’s mother is The Portal of Saint Anne (Le Portail Sainte-Anne) to the right which is a composite work carved during Maurice’s time (between 1160-1170) but was set up only after Eudes de Sully took over the work of the west façade.

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Le Portail de la Vierge – Left doorway

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Le Portail Sainte-Anne – Right doorway

It was outside on the porch of the cathedral, in front of the “architectural glory of France”, that the marriage of King Henri of Navarre with Marguerite de Valois took place on August 18, 1572, owing that the King was a Huguenot at that time. In May 1625, the marriage of Charles I of England to the French princess Henrietta Maria (youngest daughter of King Henri IV of France and Marie de Medici) took place by proxy with the west façade as the backdrop (2)(3) (4),

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Dedicated to the Virgin Mary (Notre-Dame), the edifice was subjected to reckless mutilation between 1699 and 1753 when the Cloister, the stalls of the sixteenth century, the old high altar, many sepulchral monuments, and stained glass were destroyed – yet, considering the vicissitudes through which the cathedral has passed, it’s a blessing that so much remained unaltered in contour and general effect and also much of original sculpture has been preserved. While the mid-19th century restorer, Eugéne Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc has outshot the others in proving his efficiency for all of the present state of skilful restorations of Notre-Dame which included aesthetic and structural improvements; at any rate, Bishop Maurice de Sully, the ancient designers and premier massons (5) of the cathedral have ensured that everything was essentially arranged to concentrate the eye on the chief altar, and to provide dignity to its position.

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18Ever since the consecration of its main altar in 1182, the cathedral with its vast open space to accommodate the ever-numerous believers has served the religious services and frequent synods. I read somewhere that St. Dominic preached there. The new-born heir was blessed at its altar. Emperors were crowned there. Standing before the altar of the cathedral on December 2, 1804, Napoleon Bonaparte took the crown from Pope Pius VII (1742 -1823) and crowned himself. For being the venue, it was decorated for spectacular royal marriages like the fairy-tale wedding of Emperor Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte (Napoleon III) and Empress Eugenie (Spanish Eugénie du Derje de Montijo, Comtesse de Teba) in January, 1853, Little more than 100 years later, Princess Françoise of Bourbon-Parma married Prince Edouard de Lobkowicz there in January, 1960.

Prior to ceremonial interment of Saint Louis (Louis IX (1214 – 1270) at St. Denis, his body (having undergone the process known as mos Teutonicus) lay in state at Notre Dame – a custom followed for many French monarchs and princes. In October 1895, the cathedral was the venue for the State funeral of French chemist and microbiologist Louis Pasteur (reinterred at the Institut Pasteur). When Gen. Charles de Gaulle died in 1970, it was in Notre Dame de Paris, (the very place where gunshots were fired at him in August 1944), where the heads of nations gathered for a Requiem Mass on the day the funeral was held at his home village, Colombey-les-Deus-Églises where he was laid to rest by the grave of his daughter Anna.

19Bound in the developments of the times, Notre Dame de Paris had also served as a meeting place for trade unions, dormitory for the homeless, location for movies, while its nave was once used to store wine casks. According to media reports, in May 2013, a French historian pulled out a shotgun and shot himself dead in the cathedral.

Periodical repairs and modifications were done to redress the wear and tear it suffered by time, climate, intolerance and ignorance. In their book, authors Jean-Benit Nadeau and Julie Barlow wrote that by the middle of the 19th century, the cathedral had fallen into such neglect that authorities considered demolishing it and using the stones to build bridges. The restoration of the cathedral finally came when the government of King Louis-Philippe I (1773 – 1850) decided to counter the concerns with remedial measures.

Ever since our arrival, we had noticed that the porch of the cathedral was swarming with visitors of all shades and shapes. Right now, the line-up of people under the southern door: Portail de Sainte-Anne or St. Marcel, has swelled. It was time for us to join the queue.

Merci et au revoir. Jo

(End of Part One)

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Notes:

  • Named in September 2006 in honour of the pope who had died in 2005;
  • Charles I of England and Princess Henrietta Maria were married in person at St. Augustine’s Church, Canterbury, Kent in June 1625.
  • According to the website of Notre Dame de Paris, although masses, vespers and the sacrament of reconciliation are celebrated every day of the year, since the cathedral is no longer a parish, baptisms, marriages and funerals are no longer held there;
  • Currently, outdoor wedding ceremony packages are available for couples wanting a symbolic wedding ceremony or symbolic renewal of vows held at major Paris landmarks and in the vicinity of Place Jean-Paul II or at its fringes with Notre Dame Cathedral as backdrop. Of course, I mention here only about symbolic ceremonies.
  • Name of the first master of the work is unknown although, according to a book, a “Richard the Mason” witnessed a cathedral document in 1164.
  • I am indebted to many publications dating from the late 19th century onwards, for useful background data;
  • This article is dedicated to all the brave soldiers of India, the fallen and the living, for their courage and dedication in protecting our country from the menace lurking at our frontier.

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(©Joseph Sébastine/Manningtree Archive)

The Most Worthy of Love

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When she brought out the last pearl

She emptied her body like an oyster

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On this day June 17, 385 years ago, large populace of India joined their emperor and the royal family to mourn the untimely death of Arjumand Banu Begum, popularly known as Mumtaz Mahal, the 38-year old favourite second wife of Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan.

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Famed as much for her charity as for her beauty, Mumtaz (The Chosen One of the Palace), was pregnant with her fourteenth child (daughter named Gauhara Begum) when she succumbed to death in childbirth in 1631, leaving her husband heartbroken.

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Just as he had promised to her dying prayers, Shah Jahan erected Taj Mahal, the mausoleum of unsurpassed splendour and flawless symmetry on the right bank of the River Yamuna at Agra. In memory of Mumtaz Mahal, Taj Mahal was so named from an abbreviation of her name.

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Built of milk-white marble, rose sandstone and studded with precious jewels, the Taj Mahal remains the pride of India from Shah Jahan’s day. I have walked in and around it on five different occasions and I always loved its grand sight – it’s magnificence as it looms proudly within a large interconnected complex of gardens and buildings. Until next time. Jo

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How shall I understand the magic of Love the Juggler?

For he made thy beauty enter at that small gate the pupil of my eye,

And now – and now my heart cannot contain it!” – medieval Indian poet Faizi

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(©Joseph Sébastine/Manningtree Archive)