Sunday, August 13, 2017

Confederate Monuments: Removal and Resistance

I've written a couple of posts about honoring the Confederacy and the removal of Confederate monuments here on LoS, so I found this Op-Ed interesting.  In the wake of today's violent clashes in Charlottesville, which resulted from a rally to protest such a removal, it seems especially relevant.

The Charlottesville clashes came after the KKK and various white nationalist groups planned a “Unite the Right” rally to protest the slated removal of a statue of General Robert E. Lee.  For the time being, the statue is still in Emancipation Park, formerly known as Lee Park.  That alone is the sign of the times -- the change itself, and the resentment it has provoked.  It was the third, and largest, rally held in Charlottesville this year. 

And like the previous two, the rally was met by large number of counter-protesters, and things quickly degenerated:

On Saturday morning, men in combat gear — some wearing bicycle and motorcycle helmets and carrying clubs and sticks and makeshift shields — had fought each other in the downtown streets, with little apparent police interference. Both sides sprayed each other with chemical irritants and plastic bottles were hurled through the air.

After the protesters had begun to disperse, someone taking a cue from terrorists in London and Paris drove their car into a crowd of counter-protestors, killing one and injuring 19.  Three cars had already smashed into one another earlier in the day, sending people running.  A State of Emergency is in place.

None of this surprises me.  I've seen too many "The South will Rise Again" bumper stickers on trucks with gun racks.  As I wrote in 2010:

Wild and woolly times ahead.
Be Prepared for the Years of Lead!

I have the feeling this just the beginning. 

Update:  from today's NYT, a little more background.  Art matters.

The Statue at the Center of Charlottesville’s Storm

Update 8/16:  Who'd a thunk it?   

Robert E. Lee opposed Confederate monuments (except grave markers apparently)

Update 8/17:
NYT list of Confederate monuments coming down across the country

Update 8/19:

 .  .  .  .

More on Laws of Silence

The Battle of the Battle of Liberty Place
Ain't just whistlin' Dixie  
The Politics of Removal  
Tea for Two: American Years of Lead

Friday, July 21, 2017

Bourdelle's "La France": Montauban copy

When I first saw Bourdelle's La France in Paris in 2011(on LoS), it encompassed a lot of what I was writing about at the time.  A strong woman as an embodiment of France, a serpent, pillars, and a triangle.

There are four bronze castings of the sculpture made from the original maquette, and the Paris version is the fourth (dedicated June 14, 1948).  Another is in Montauban, the capital of the Tarn-et-Garonne, just a short hop up the road from chez moi.  This second casting was dedicated on November 13, 1932.  It has plaques commemorating every conflict from WWI to 21st-century military actions in places such as Chad and ex-Yugoslavia, a couple of names each on small votive plaques compared to the hundreds of names around the base naming the staggering number of victims of the Great War.  If you examine my not-so-great photographs, you'll see that for some reason in version two the spear carried by the Athena-like woman is longer than version four, the spearhead seems slightly different, and it certainly isn't hung with the two wreaths one sees on the Paris casting.

The third version is also quite a bit different, as it (quoting myself):

had originally been placed at the entrance of the "foire d'Alger." After the foire, it was put on the terrace of the Musée de Beaux-Arts, where she scrutinized the Mediterranean.  This one has the most storied history.
As a symbol of de Gaulle, the statue was blown up on the evening of November 26, 1961 by the OAS (Organisation armée secrète), a far-right group who despised de Gaulle for what they perceived as his treason towards Algeria, then a French Department, after his actions led to Algerian independence in 1962.  The socle was pulverized and the statue damaged. 
After this symbolic attack, the pieces were collected and stored until the statue could be repaired.  The French ambassador obtained permission to recover the statue but the French administration refused to pay for the transport cost, instead foisting the responsibility upon Paris' Bourdelle museum.  It was eventually taken to be repaired but the part of the support which depicted the snakes, as well as that part of the lance which held the olive branches, were too damaged to be repaired.  This lance was later sawed down in order for it to fit inside the museum of the Saint-Cyr Coëtquidan military academy.
So.  Not much new, I just happened to stumble upon La France (#2) in Montauban recently, after having forgotten my idea to try and hunt it down after reading about it while researching the one in Paris.  The different castings each has its own history, and I was surprised to learn they had originally been cast for different kinds of monuments. For example the original maquette was made to commemorate the US' entry into the First World War.  The project floundered but half-sized casting was exposed at the Salon in 1923.  In 1925 the full-sized, 9m version was cast for use in an expo, after which it was acquired by Briançon, where it stands alone as the city's war memorial.  The second was made directly for Montauban's monument aux morts.  The commission for the Montauban monument, described as a "temple," was given to Bourdelle in 1921, but the monument was not completed until 1930, a year after Bourdelle's death.  The third sat outside a museum in Algiers, was dynamited by the OAS and then reassembled for another museum, inside this time, and mutilated, at the École St-Cyr.  Number four honors the Free French and "the call" of June 18 by de Gaulle, and was privately funded.  The OAS must have been thrilled.

In addition to the four 9m casts, there are also some 4.6m casts held by various museums.

Apparently Bourdelle considered La France to be his greatest work, which is saying something, considering that Bourdelle's body of work is impressive in both quantity and quality.  If you look at his lifespan, 1861-1929, the radical modernity of his work is especially striking.  It's really kind of surprising he's not as well-known as say, Rodin, an admirer.  I'm lucky that quite a few of his sculptures dot Montauban.  La France is only one of many Bourdelle's works to be found in and around the historic city center near what is now a museum for another native son, Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

St. Fris: Photos at last!

For a tiny little town (pop. 391) just a few klicks away from the middle of nowhere, I've managed to pass through Bassoues three times in the last 15 or so years.  The first time, I was astonished to come across a statue of what appeared to be a soldier (shield, raised sword, spear) who turned out to be Saint.  This was St. Fris, a supposed nephew of Charles Martel, who led a small band of Franks repulsed a Saracen invasion at this very spot.

St. Fris holds a certain fascination for me because he was my introduction to the world of folk saints.  These are highly localized, their real names often unknown, their very existence quite often doubtful.  Their legends, however, often share mythical elements not only with each other, but with more well-known religious figures.  The hagiography of St. Fris, for example, shares details with St. James, of Compostela fame, in that after his death, his body was somehow miraculously encased in rock.

From within this rock, a spring appeared, with miraculous healing properties.  We see the same story at Rocamadour, with the legends of Saints Quiteria and Liberata; with the majority of what are known as Black Madonnas; with the hermit Dadon, who after his "furtive translation" (i.e. theft) of Saint Foy's remains, struck the ground with his staff and voila!  H²O!  The same story is found at Covadonga, in Asturias, in the story of Pelagius, who in 722 is said to have pretty much kicked off the Reconquista.

So despite being a figure with an extremely limited geographical domain, he is nonetheless endowed with the powers over the forces necessary for the survival of what Julian Barnes calls the Ultimate Peasant: water, health, protection from attackers.  St. Fris is pretty much limited to the Gers:  he saturates Bassoues; there's a small cult at Vic-Fezensac (a town with a strong connection to another local element of folklore: the bull); and a small shrine at the cathedral in Auch.  Fris isn't even his real name; the legend states that when his uncorrupt body emerged from a rock being licked away as if it were salt, no one knew his name, so they called him St. Fris after his familial connection to the Frisian Islands. 

I recall being happily surprised in Asturias when I came across two hamlets, one dedicated to St. Sernin, and, more surprisingly, the "Saintes Puelles" (here called "Pueyes -- the Argentine "ll" and "y" share the same "zh" pronunciation so the changed spelling is fonetickly the same).  I mention this because I wonder if somewhere along the St James Way we can find either a hamlet named after Fris, or a chapel; would you give me a bust in a basilica maybe?

Anyhow, third time's a charm because as I recounted in a previous post, I never managed to get some photos in my first two visits.

So, without further adieu, I present thee with the photographs:

This first is typical of regional architecture, thick walls of rough-hewn stone; small, round widows; often asymmetric facade; a single tower; spare to zero ornamentation.

St. Fris Basilica

St. Fris shrine at l’Étendard hill
This shrine is located at the site where St. Fris allegedly planted his flagpole/spear in the ground, his line in the sand, and with a rousing "into the breach" pep talk, rallied his troops to defeat a rear-guard of Moors as they fled south after being routed at Poitiers.
There's a cinematic quality to the story of St. Fris; it could make a good film.  St. Fris rallies his men and turns defeats the Moors, but one last arrow, let loose by a young embittered hothead finds its mark and strikes the young champion.

Lakeside chapel dedicated the St. Fris
Fris' horse, suddenly without guidance, bolts, the dying Fris slumped in the saddle, bouncing brutally as the horse flees in terror.  It comes to a spot near a river.  The corpse of the young hero falls to the ground, is encased in rock and lays undisturbed for centuries, until a cow, licking away at the rock, reveals St Fris, apparently still magnificently mustachioed, for all representation of the saint feature long Asterix-like facial-hair.

The chapel itself is unremarkable and also typical of the region. Unfortunately one cannot see inside.  The S.F. monogram under the bell is a nice touch.

Lakeside chapel: facade
Finally, here's a photo of the scared spring with reputed healing powers.

Sacred spring: St. Fris chapel
So basically, since the Middle Ages, pilgrims came specifically to see the relics of St. Fris or visited on their way to Compostela (probably this is what accounts for the legend that Fris' body, like that of St. James, was encased in stone).  Pilgrims would ether drink or bathe in these waters for their reputed healing powers, but it wasn't until 1890 that the village priest, one Abbé Blajan, had the chapel built and (not pictured), a small bathhouse where numerous miracles have been reported.

I can think of half a dozen similar fountains within a short distance from my home.  In my village the fountain was reputedly best for fevers and stomach troubles.  Dedicated to John the Baptist, the current rude structure is only made of mud but has stood since 1713 on the site of a much more ancient chapel.  In at least two neighboring villages there are chapels with healing springs.  All of these are positioned along the local tendrils of the St. James Way that converge upon St. James-Pied-le-Port, both the beginning of the "French Road" to Santiago and the last stop in France before pilgrims cross the Pyrenees to arrive at Roncevalles.

So, finally LoS has some photos from my own telephone to illustrate to places where St. Fris was struck and where his body came to rest.  I made a longish detour on my return journey after three-plus days on the St. James Way, following the same route as millions of pilgrims before me.

St. Fris was the nephew of Charles Martel, who in 732 had defeated the Moors at Poitiers.  As the Moorish army fled, their rear guard encountered a small group of Franks led by Fris; his legend is thus directly tied to the battle which is said to have stopped the until then indefatigable advance of the Moors into Europe.

Ironically, later battles had Charlemagne, Martel's grandson, and thus Fris' cousin, allied with the Moorish Wali of Barcelona and Girona to combat his rivals in the Iberian peninsula.  The Wali received military aid and Charlemagne saw an opportunity to shore up his power and strengthen the Christian position in general.  In 778 Charlemagne was dealt his only military defeat at the Battle of Roncevaux Pass as his rear-guard was ambushed by Basques in revenge for Charlemagne's attack on Pamplona, a Basque capital, during his adventures in the basque Country.  Fris' encounter reverses the roles,some wishful thinking to clean up an otherwise spotless military record.

In 824 a second battle occurred, where a combined Basque and Muslim army defeated a Carolingian expeditionary force.  Lots of shifting alliances, no?  The Carolingians had gone to quash a rebellion in that pesky Pamplona and met no resistance.  However, marching back with plunder, they were ambushed at Roncevaux pass and soundly defeated, much like Charlemagne 46 years prior.  The Basques were the true victors here, for the battle led directly to the establishment of the independent Kingdom of Pamplona.

So, though Fris's tale is probably a fiction, there is a possible historical basis for the story.

For the rest of St. Fris' hagiography, read my original post.