tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71364873714110900012024-03-06T20:01:23.328+00:00Wiltshire Wandering: Obsessive Journeying to Draw Anglo-Saxon and Norman SculptureUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger200125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-53531701221663260912018-07-08T19:57:00.000+01:002018-07-08T19:57:12.043+01:00Avington (near Hungerford), BerkshireMr Pevsner had the right idea. He always went back to his bed and breakfast at the end of a hard day's fonting, and he wrote his notes up after supper. He did this because he knew he'd forget things if he didn't. I've been very slack of late and it's a shame because the brain really doesn't remember things for very long. And yet our fonting trips are such a special and important part of my existence. They keep me sane. They are the things I do in the gaps between the necessary evil of going to work. They are actually what I'd like to be doing. When the Youth go on about YOLO (they probably don't any more, it's probably passe) they're probably talking about chucking themselves off bridges with a bungee or backpacking through the Congo. But I'm not bothered about those things, I know what floats my boat. It's geeky but it makes me calm and happy - it gives me a buffer for all those annoying moments in my job. It is (as Jonathan Meades once said) "anoraking about" with a Pevsner.<br />
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Avington's quite a trek, it's over the border into fairly uncharted territory (Berkshire.. this is the Wiltshire Wandering blog after all). I don't like doing too much research before we go somewhere, because I like to be surprised. Sometimes I sneak a look at the CSRBI to check how many millimetres the font is across (no no I don't, don't be so unpleasant). No, sometimes I do check the marvellous resource of the CSRBI to see what's Romanesque. Pevsner wasn't always as detailed as he might have been about our favourite type of sculpture - he had a lot of other things to get through so I don't blame him. But Avington is a Norman extravaganza.<br />
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There is something to be said for knowing where you're going though. I hadn't even got the right map. I mean I had got the right map somewhere (it was at home) but it wasn't one of the half dozen or so in the car. My other half used to joke that the maps in the car were worth more than my car. It's probably still true (I don't care). So B and I drove down a dead end road to Avington Manor, not realising that the church wouldn't be in sight. I'm fine when I have an OS map, it's like my all-areas pass at a festival - I can stride confidently knowing that I'm perfectly entitled to be on the public footpath. But without one, I get all peasanty and deferent and don't like marching up the extensive drive of manors in case someone appears with a shotgun. It's paranoia. Luckily B could use the modern technology of her phone to locate the church and we trotted on. I need to get with the 21st century but at some level I'm scared of getting totally addicted.<br />
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The church at Avington is in a totally dreamy location - an overgrown meadow near the banks of the river. There's no laid path and barely any gravestones. It's just sprouting in this wild quiet spot. We could hear a cuckoo calling. It could have been any era you liked really. It's a weirdly timeless spot.<br />
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The south doorway has perfectly solid and interesting Normanness. When you're eager to see what you expect inside it's easy to overlook the scrolly leaves, zigzags and column patterns you'd be delighted to see anywhere else. The doorway even has the tonguey, almost 'protobeaks' on the columns which we've seen at other Wiltshire spots with top-quality carving. So these features clearly indicated there were treats in store inside.<br />
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On entering you see the font - it's been hacked about a bit, but most of the figures are still clear. The font reminded of Chirton (with its saints and arches), but the figures are more complex here. It's more difficult to see what's going on and interpret it. There's hours and hours of drawing enjoyment in the font.<br />
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But it's so hard to concentrate when the chancel arch is so fantastic - pretty much in an unprecedented fashion for us, as the super-wide arch had 29 beakheads all across the chancel side, and tongue-poking animals all across the nave side, two characters to each block of stone. Whoever saw so many creatures? It was truly crazy. And to add to the craziness, there was even evidence that more beakheads had been on arches springing up into the centre of the chancel - they'd been cruelly cut off or taken away. There were more creatures than one could know what to do with. It was stupendous.<br />
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And there was even more Romanesque interest - two faces biting at the columns either side of the chancel arch, and in the corners behind the altar, a superb cow-face and cat-face. Weirdly, the CSRBI doesn't mention these at all, but they're superb and characterful. The Church Blurb suggested these were an ox for Saint Luke and a lion for Saint Mark. But who knows if that's true. They're great carvings regardless.<br />
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I found the amount all a bit overwhelming but drew a little. I need to spend less time fiddling on computers watching nonsense and spend more time creating satisfying art from these superb carvings. Pictures to follow.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Avington, Hungerford RG17 0UL, UK51.4080609 -1.465959999999995525.886026400000002 -42.774553999999995 76.9300954 39.842634000000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-18787844536814149502017-08-26T10:11:00.004+01:002017-08-26T10:15:20.301+01:00Winterbourne Monkton, WiltshireUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-12988302529326452112017-08-26T10:11:00.002+01:002017-08-26T10:11:27.935+01:00Avebury, WiltshireUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-10075941609802167992017-07-25T13:55:00.004+01:002017-07-25T14:42:58.921+01:00Flax Bourton, North SomersetThere is a rule of Sculpture Seeking, viz. that if you come to a T junction in a village, you are more likely to take the direction away from the church you're looking for, regardless of how much logic and deliberation you apply. So it was when we finally rolled into Flax Bourton (that we had already been lost was entirely down to my overconfidence in navigating roads out of Bristol).<br />
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So when we arrived at the church on this hot day I was already a bit flustered and irritable. The church is right on the main road - probably the closest to a road that we've ever seen. It's got a wall built in front of the door so you can't walk out into the juggernauts (and previously the horses and carriages). Someone has paid for a rather nice glass door to seal the porch off from the noise and pollution. Seeing this, I foolishly thought that it might mean a warm welcome.<br />
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No, it didn't. The door was locked. I could lean on the glass and squint under my spread fingers to try and look in without reflections. I could even see the carving. But the door was locked.<br />
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I just want to ask, WHY? If you don't want people to steal all the presumed gold candlesticks in
the church, why not lock them away like all the other churches we visit? But even if you lock the church itself, why can't people even get into the porch? Is Flax Bourton really the centre of an international crime ring focused on church porches? No-one can even get into the porch to read the noticeboard. I know I'm a heathen and you might only want to let in good members of the congregation that come to services on a Sunday - fair enough. But mightn't Christians want to pop in at other times?<br />
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I was disappointed.<br />
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We went to the stone circles at Stanton Drew instead. They were fully accessible.<br />
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You can see photos on <a href="http://deborahharvey.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/here-be-saxon-dragons.html" target="_blank">Deborah Harvey's blog</a>. She gets a bit carried away and calls them Saxon - I think as they match so many things we've seen, they're almost certainly Norman. She shows there are more lovely carvings inside the church - not least a cat and a winged legless dragon (these are also misbilled as Saxon). The latter is the first we'd have seen in my recollection. I think it's called an Amphiptere. It would have been an exciting moment. Here's a picture of one to make up for all that disappointment.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05IWwtL1gqjXVHQ-8w30vdQRFZLGxdMZZrtOm3N7P7kdrVuG2RLMqqPBcRj94ohHVIxT6CKiAV0vBQYQo7XyHugEYpCYpA0nbDlG4OOaZ517hvzfx6cNpAGPaCNvVFdhmQt3E15Dabgs/s1600/amphiptere.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="360" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05IWwtL1gqjXVHQ-8w30vdQRFZLGxdMZZrtOm3N7P7kdrVuG2RLMqqPBcRj94ohHVIxT6CKiAV0vBQYQo7XyHugEYpCYpA0nbDlG4OOaZ517hvzfx6cNpAGPaCNvVFdhmQt3E15Dabgs/s320/amphiptere.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Fictitious and Symbolic Creatures in Art by <a href="https://archive.org/details/fictitioussymbol00vinyuoft" target="_blank">J Vineycomb</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Flax Bourton, Bristol BS48, UK51.420873 -2.7092697000000551.410971 -2.7294397000000497 51.430775 -2.68909970000005tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-72931125931611008642017-07-25T13:55:00.000+01:002017-07-25T15:12:56.393+01:00Bristol cathedral<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjcltsZ5MrL_QyXG9dkm4FQCHE7R26NxUio1gaXKIpQCtXSNcL2bhZurrB7GXCbsvbCfMg3qYNMicgo0AbZvB91PHmo6EfIzz3MYvZY0ynWwLS4egN6lV2fQ8NEQdh8LbRjjqUwNndV4/s1600/bristol+unicorn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="443" data-original-width="481" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjcltsZ5MrL_QyXG9dkm4FQCHE7R26NxUio1gaXKIpQCtXSNcL2bhZurrB7GXCbsvbCfMg3qYNMicgo0AbZvB91PHmo6EfIzz3MYvZY0ynWwLS4egN6lV2fQ8NEQdh8LbRjjqUwNndV4/s320/bristol+unicorn.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CC unicorn by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/arenamontanus/3513053821" target="_blank">Anders Sandberg</a></td></tr>
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After a delicious lunch at the Watershed, B and I hauled ourselves up the slope to the cathedral in Bristol. The square outside is home to two amazing gold unicorns. It's not every day that you get to see even one gold unicorn. But here are two, raising their front legs in a very lively pose.<br />
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There's a lot of unicorn imagery about at the moment. They seem very popular. And rightly so. But I'd like to point out something about them that I found out while trying to track down what a winged but legless dragon is called (see Flax Bourton) - it's from the same book,<a href="https://archive.org/details/fictitioussymbol00vinyuoft" target="_blank"> 'Fictitious and Symbolic Creatures in Art'</a>. You can't quite see on the photo above, but look elsewhere (eg on<a href="http://urbinavinos.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/the-tourist-city-of-bristol-in-south.html" target="_blank"> Urbina Vinos</a>) and you will distinctly see the cloven hooves! Oh no, unicorns don't have hooves like horses. They have feet like a stag. Don't ask me why though. It's just how they roll.<br />
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But we weren't there to see the unicorns. We were there to view the Romanesque architecture.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Bristol, UK51.454513 -2.587909999999965351.296248 -2.9106334999999652 51.612778 -2.2651864999999654tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-7323378150801068322017-07-25T13:48:00.000+01:002017-07-25T14:44:47.140+01:00Monkton Farleigh, Wiltshire<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6C-RnivJatLPXvhhPdnASEBAM8I1VDaRRhRt-gXfrGmhw7hEgEgvKz3jJvLzeAC1Kxb1ZVwhOE0LjgRRhhzVr73zDVBWTCyX22mHmtKcoQcNLZlNHjsz6_l2NIgRLNxVLqF7KcM6Ndo/s1600/monkton+farleigh+column.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6C-RnivJatLPXvhhPdnASEBAM8I1VDaRRhRt-gXfrGmhw7hEgEgvKz3jJvLzeAC1Kxb1ZVwhOE0LjgRRhhzVr73zDVBWTCyX22mHmtKcoQcNLZlNHjsz6_l2NIgRLNxVLqF7KcM6Ndo/s640/monkton+farleigh+column.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">copyright Rhiannon 2017</td></tr>
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Finally, a finished piece of work emerges from<a href="http://wiltshirewandering.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/monkton-farleigh-wiltshire.html" target="_blank"> a sketch made long ago</a>. This is a lino cut, hand cut and printed on the kitchen table. I'm pleased with it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Monkton Farleigh, Bradford-on-Avon BA15, UK51.3877536 -2.281976500000041651.377844100000004 -2.3021465000000414 51.3976631 -2.2618065000000418tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-39771070724035137752017-06-09T10:18:00.001+01:002017-08-26T10:19:32.244+01:00West Camel, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-69639551787879694012017-06-09T10:18:00.000+01:002017-08-26T10:18:25.977+01:00Huish Episcopi, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-59608344666671322002017-06-09T10:17:00.000+01:002017-08-26T10:17:48.068+01:00Ile Abbotts, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-7019053438862781162017-06-09T10:15:00.000+01:002017-08-26T10:16:10.044+01:00Combe St Nicholas, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-65739328790636545532017-05-29T10:14:00.000+01:002017-08-26T10:17:13.462+01:00Stoke Sub Hamdon, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-31097977039499372092017-05-29T10:13:00.000+01:002017-08-26T10:16:30.621+01:00Melbury Osmund, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-24668991440437164712017-05-29T10:12:00.000+01:002017-08-26T10:16:49.572+01:00Melbury Bubb, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-8274717487756670512017-05-20T19:58:00.000+01:002017-07-17T09:03:28.882+01:00Cold Aston, Gloucestershire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We don't often meet people at the churches on our travels, and when we do they're generally welcoming and either we exchange pleasantries or have a little chat about our shared interest in the building. As we stood drawing in the porch at Cold Aston, though, a long trail of tinies from the adjacent school trooped into the church and took their places in the pews. I shouldn't mind this, should I. It's an example of the church Actually Being Used. But I didn't like it. Now I can't say I know much about children, but I do know that I was once one of them. And when I was five I had a soft, receptive, gently forming brain. I seem to remember I liked filling it with dinosaurs and trips to the swings.<br />
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It's not that I don't think that children should get a education in Behaving Nicely to their Fellow Man. Of course a bit of moral guidance is the way to encourage a nice society where we all help each other and think about others. But I just thought it was very odd that they were shuffled into the church, as though talking about being helpful or kind or whatever it was, couldn't be done in an ordinary setting. As though by going in the church, God would be watching. The teacher (she was wearing a football strip, bizarrely) seemed to switch between that patronising slow sing-song voice some people use with small children, and then swooping on individuals to berate them for their fidgiting or previous misdemeanours. I thought the whole thing was rather creepy, it didn't sit well with me.<br />
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I don't know what I'm trying to say really. But it didn't seem quite right to be moulding such small children's minds using the building in that way. It wasn't the same as going there of a Sunday with one's parents to listen to the vicar.<br />
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Anyway. There were some interesting bits of carving at Cold Aston. The tympanum was an all-over repetitive pattern (I admit photoshop has helped me with the above depiction) with some rather familiar style weaving foliage underneath. This was very well preserved and rather nice.<br />
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Also there seeemed to be a bit of knotwork in the porch - one assumes Anglo Saxon. You can see the collection of bits and pieces here on <a href="http://www.britainexpress.com/counties/glouces/churches/cold-aston.htm" target="_blank">Britain Express. </a>I always like to see a bit of Saxon knotwork, and because they're quite a challenge to draw, they're always especially satisfying to have a go at. Various descriptions on the internet mention "entwined serpents" but I fear this is overly optimistic. B and I have seen quite a few serpenty examples and this one wasn't doing it for us. <i>But</i> we both felt that there might be little clasped hands - as we independently came to this conclusion I set some store by it.<br />
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There was also a <a href="http://wiltshirewandering.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/maperton-somerset.html" target="_blank">Maperton</a>-esque little head, which B drew.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Cold Aston, Cheltenham GL54, UK51.8753529 -1.816633000000024426.353318400000003 -43.125227000000024 77.3973874 39.491960999999975tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-88162583618257323062017-05-20T19:25:00.001+01:002017-08-26T10:47:43.420+01:00Codford St Mary's, WiltshireUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-70351654812917956502017-05-20T19:13:00.000+01:002017-07-17T08:29:14.511+01:00Windrush, Gloucestershire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Windrush is an excellently romantic name for a village (and the stream that runs through it). It seemed to be another well-heeled Cotswold spot. And maybe it's a good job that it's well-heeled, because some money has been recently poured into the renovation of the church - specifically, its amazing doorway. Because the door here is surrounded by not one, but two rounds of beakheads. It's a first for us. I can't think there can be many examples of the Double Beakhead in the country. So it's excellent to see it's being looked after.<br />
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The beakheads have just been cleaned. And they've been cleaned very thoroughly. In fact almost so thoroughly that they looked quite odd. But I guess they can now carry on for another thousand years. They're on the south side of the chuch, and have a small roof over them to protect them a little from the rain, but nothing major. Perhaps their south-facing aspect has been what's saved them for so long. It would be nice if they had a porch. But they're so interestingly animated that in a silly way I quite like that they can see out.<br />
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SSH Conservation carried out the work. You can see <a href="http://www.sshconservation.co.uk/case-studies/st-peters-church-windrush-2015" target="_blank">photos of the Before and After</a> on their website. You can see how bright and stark the doorway is now - as it would have done when it was first carved, an interesting thought. The faces are a bit different from the beakheads we've seen before. B called them menacing, as I recall. They've certainly got quite intense expressions on their beaky faces. Their almond-shaped eyes remind me a bit of insects or aliens! The characters are quite varied. They don't all have beaks to cling onto the roll of the doorway. The drawing above shows two non-beaky ones.<br />
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A silly thing happened as I admired the doorway - I took a step backward and promptly fell up the steps that lead down to it. An unusual feature, in my defence. I just sat down on my arse and lay there, it wasn't dignified but it was quite funny. I hope it at least gave the beakheads something amusing and unusual to see. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Windrush, UK51.8051896 -1.734001000000034851.7659176 -1.8146820000000348 51.844461599999995 -1.6533200000000348tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-35716461380005300952017-05-20T18:43:00.000+01:002017-05-20T18:47:06.690+01:00Bibury, Gloucestershire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Bibury, Cirencester GL7, UK51.7588076 -1.830775499999958851.7489791 -1.8509454999999588 51.768636099999995 -1.8106054999999588tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-9269270270046814162017-05-20T18:26:00.002+01:002017-05-20T18:37:30.835+01:00Wroughton, Wiltshire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Wroughton, Swindon SN4, UK51.524125000000012 -1.787931999999955251.484606000000014 -1.8686129999999552 51.563644000000011 -1.7072509999999552tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-9551531547666018152017-05-20T18:17:00.001+01:002017-05-20T18:18:16.987+01:00Bromham, Wiltshire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Bromham, Chippenham SN15, UK51.38635 -2.052369900000030651.376441 -2.0725399000000304 51.396259 -2.0321999000000308tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-71052391421758988362017-05-20T18:11:00.000+01:002017-05-20T18:11:03.251+01:00Bathampton, Bath and North-East Somerset<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Bathampton, Bath, UK51.395142 -2.320591000000035851.375327 -2.3609315000000359 51.414957 -2.2802505000000357tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-19004070878255178312017-03-12T09:37:00.000+00:002017-08-26T10:47:43.410+01:00Stratton on the Fosse, SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0Stratton-on-the-Fosse, Radstock BA3, UK51.2547826 -2.492025600000033651.2448446 -2.5121956000000334 51.2647206 -2.4718556000000338tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-53678491496369931682017-03-12T09:35:00.000+00:002017-08-26T10:47:43.413+01:00Priston, North-East SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0Priston Village, Bath BA2, UK51.3426594 -2.439504400000032551.332740400000006 -2.4596744000000323 51.3525784 -2.4193344000000327tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-82798445283111982682017-03-12T09:33:00.003+00:002017-08-26T10:47:43.417+01:00Radstock, North-East SomersetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0Radstock BA3, UK51.292016999999987 -2.446092000000021551.252295999999987 -2.5267730000000217 51.331737999999987 -2.3654110000000212tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-59549799176112489452017-03-12T09:32:00.000+00:002017-05-14T11:39:14.473+01:00Kilmersdon, SomersetThe lych-gate at Kilmersdon was the perfect place for a picnic. It's disappointing in a way, but we now feel we must appear sufficiently middle-aged looking that we don't attract disapproving looks from passing locals. So not looking like a youf does have its advantages. B had expertly prepared the picnic and it included boiled eggs (so I felt like Columbo) and highly carameliferous wafers. Plus tea in a flask. You'd never get that level of care from me. But the hot drink was greatly appreciated.<br />
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We soon found out that the door was resolutely bolted. This is always immensely disappointing and bemusing, particularly in a country village where the risk of people stealing damp hymn books and charity leaflets would seem to be particularly low, but the likelihood of ramblers wanting to pop in and leave a quid or two would seem to be particularly high. However. I suspected that there would be lots of interesting things outside.<br />
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Pevsner just says "Much Norman evidence" but doesn't particularly mention that there are carved corbels on the south side of the church, and surely they're Norman. I think we know a Norman corbel when we see it these days. They always have a nice simple style and might include animals or people Doing Things.<br />
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There were some great big medieval gargoyles on the north side of the church, really quite excellent. I tried to draw one but the angle made it difficult (I say this but B seemed to manage perfectly well). There's much to see and appreciate here.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Kilmersdon, Radstock BA3, UK51.267926 -2.43403000000000725.745891500000003 -43.742624000000006 76.7899605 38.874563999999992tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7136487371411090001.post-25714250713892959672017-03-12T09:30:00.000+00:002017-05-23T17:57:07.062+01:00Hemington, North SomersetHemington didn't seem to be hugely bigger than Hardington Bampfylde, but its church is just massive. It's got aisles, and a sort of chapel open to the south side of the altar. The latter was where we found the excellent Norman font with its petally scallops. Pevsner calls the decoration 'lobes'. Sometimes I think he just didn't care about Norman fonts at all :) But I mustn't feel too irritated by him as his books are essentially the reason B and I have found so many interesting places to visit. And at least we have the luxury of enjoying wherever we go. His explorations for the books must have turned into sheer slog. Monetarily rewarded slog of course. With the opportunity for the occasional sarcastic remark. But slog nonetheless. "Right let's go, we've got 15 more to do before teatime."<br />
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The chancel arch is Norman in style too, but very sharply carved, to the extent where we were doubting its age. It's not got the personalised soft variety of the carving of the font. But I was kind of swung by the slight asymmetricalness of the design of the capitals - the pairs to left and right don't quite match. Plus there are traces of bright paint on them - does that not indicate their Normanness? I don't know. The age of the foot of the columns seems easier to acknowledge, again asymmetrical with chevrons on one of them. And what's that... yep at the bottom of one of the ones on the left, there's a strange little head. It reminded us a little of the "minute face" at <a href="http://wiltshirewandering.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=minute+face" target="_blank">Maperton. </a><br />
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What an unexpected and curious thing. What a nice thing that the carver of the columns stole the opportunity to add this little character. It rather humanises the otherwise quite severe archway. What did it mean to people of the time I wonder? It's tempting to read something un-Christian into it, something to do with spirits being in everything around us. But you can't imagine that would have been entertained at all, though is it possible that Evil spirits might be lurking about. I don't know. I liked the little face though. I gave it a proper dusting.<span id="goog_1839189880"> In fact there were lots of interesting carvings in Hemington, a whole row of them along the south aisle, though not as old. </span><br />
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<span id="goog_1839189880">And another thing we appreciated about Hemington was its toilet, unlocked. Such a boon to the fonting traveller. I'm not kidding. It was also nice to have a look through the ferns in the little well opposite the church.</span><span id="goog_1839189880"> </span><span id="goog_1839189881"></span>The watery theme continued as we drove up out of the village and spotted water pouring out of the roadside at the top of the hill. We had to stop. It was a liverwort jungle, and with such a soothing sound.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0Hemington, UK51.2862325 -2.378265999999939651.246506 -2.45894699999994 51.325959 -2.2975849999999394