Kencot, Oxfordshire (II)

B and I visited Kencot on August bank holiday last year. It's got a mad tympanum, so that absorbed our drawing energy. But there were also interesting Norman things inside. One of them being this font. Guy Thornton has a photo of it here with some flowers in.

It's very neatly and evenly carved, and I remember that this did make me question its age. But I think when you look at the design, it's got that typical repetitive pattern that makes its Norman origin pretty believable.

It sounds a bit odd, but what it reminds me of most, is my beloved cast concrete Brutalist buildings. Something like this - with straightforward geometric design, and the character of the decoration deriving directly from the nature of the material. On the photo of the font you may notice that extra texture is derived from (what I think are) fossil shells embedded in the stone. I like that, it breaks up the geometrical design in an interesting and random way. I also really like the way the carver has produced three different tones from the way the carving interacts with the light - dark, medium and light.

It also looks remarkably like a salad spinner or a zoetrope. But neither of those things had been invented in Norman times either. I'd initially dismissed it as less interesting for its flatness. But actually I think it's a grower.

Image © Rhiannon 2015

Avebury, Wiltshire (II)

More detail from the Norman font at Avebury:

Someone with a commercial eye would be selling scarves, lampshades, those paper things you can put round cakes... the possibilities are endless. I wonder if you're allowed to hawk round the stones. I bet there were always people selling souvenirs and greasy snacks at Avebury - it must always have been an interesting and strange place to be. Imagine when the ditch looked like this! It's scarcely believable. The font (pushing a mere millennium) is a spring chicken compared to the 4500 years of the bank and ditch.

By the way, don't think those are dragons being molested by Saint Whoeverthatis (Michael, probably). They've only got front legs and so must be wyverns, a different species entirely.

Image copyright Rhiannon 2015

Castle Eaton, Wiltshire - dragons (II)

Castle Eaton was another of our visits at the end of a day's wandering last year. And again I didn't have the energy left to draw the dragons. This is a not-very-clear photo of the doorway, but it's to illustrate the accompanying single arch of chevrons and its outer border of blobs.

 

And now not-very-clear photos of the dragons, left and right. There's hints of the rounded flaring snouts of those at Bishopstone? And maybe of the bulging eyes too. The eyes are rather swept round and swept back - like they're combined with ears! I guess dragons need good all-round hearing and vision. The teeth are different to others we've seen: just one row, not the sharp interlocking up and down versions.

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Bishopstone (Swindon), Wiltshire

I knew we'd seen more dragons on doors than I've posted, so I looked back through my photos and found some at St Mary's church at Bishopstone. It was the same day as the stupendous Hinton Parva font and the wealth of carving at Ramsbury. Any other day you'd be pleased as Punch to find this doorway. But B and I were exhausted by this point, beyond the help of crisps and buns. What a daft hobby.

There are chevrons at two different angles, with a carved decorated border for them, and also an arch of good fat blobs. The tops of those neat skinny columns are rather nice too although they're worn. Here's the left hand dragon:

It's an interestingly exaggerated style, with the flaring snout. And what's going on with that bulbous head? Or is it four-eyed? Or are those high up ears? I wish I'd looked closer while we were there. The teeth are as fearsome as ever though.

Above the door there's a fairly inscrutable face. I seem to remember there were some Norman faces inside the church too, but I've no photos.

The font (which you can see on Mark Goodge's British Listed Buildings site) is also supposed to be Norman - it looks a bit neat for me but the proportions are pleasing. So many interesting things to see, and yet I didn't really See them. Proof that one should go home before getting into such a state! It's an exhausting business, hilarious really.


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Hankerton, Wiltshire

Drawn image copyright Rhiannon 2015

Spring seems to have arrived at last, and so feeling Springy it felt time to get out around the county again. Although B and I rarely saw a soul on our travels last year, everywhere was very busy. A friendly churchgoer chatted to me as we walked along the path to the porch where the dragon doorstops are. He did kindly invite me in for the church's coffee morning. But I didn't feel it would be polite to join the people chatting inside when they were there for a different reason. It did feel rather rude not to, when I was gratuitously enjoying their dragons. But I wanted to spend time drawing not chatting. Such is the dilemma of the heathen artist.

He pointed out to me that similar dragons can be seen at Malmesbury. And in fact B and I have seen them elsewhere too, like Leonard Stanley and Elkstone. And I have to say it, the ones there are actually better. The pair at Hankerton seemed a little bit half-hearted in comparison. Maybe they're weatherworn - maybe that porch hasn't always been there, maybe the carvings have lost some depth. Even so, I'm not sure they're as detailed as the LS / Elkstone ones, nor as exuberant.

The drawing above is of the right hand dragon, and the photo below of the left hand. The lines are simple and the (short) ears and eyes are not decorated. But the teeth are done quite deeply and carefully. They could probably take your finger off should the dragon came to life.

For those that like gargoyles there were lots around the tower, and they looked large and excellent. But far too modern for me :) I was intrigued by the thing below though, which was in the churchyard. Has it got the look of a font base or a stoup? Surely too huge for a column base. And is it resting on the lid of a table tomb? I don't know. It was curious though.

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Charlton (Malmesbury), Wiltshire

This is not the best picture of the font at Charlton. I was rather hoping to be able to sit and draw it. But I felt too embarrassed to stay and start in front of the many bell ringers doing their practising. The top doesn't match the bottom - imagine how lovely it would be with a simple base, not that incongruous (and hideous) angular thing. Its 'pellets' are familiar from other fonts B and I have seen. And the 'rope moulding' is maybe even a rather retro Anglo-Saxon design? It's a brilliant, simple, beautifully wonky font. I like it a lot.

Fuzzy image copyright Rhiannon 2015

Potterne, Wiltshire

This is the amazing tub font at Potterne, near Devizes in Wiltshire, which we visited last August. It's very plain and solid, but unusually is inscribed around the top with part of a psalm:

Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anima mea ad te Dominus*. Amen

(As the hart yearns for springs of water, so longs my soul for thee, Lord.)

 

Or, as the King James Bible puts it, 'As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God'. But much as I love the language in the KJB, 'panteth' is just a bit too silly sounding in the 21st century.

* I'm not sure if it says Deus or Dominus, as I'm ashamed to say that I did not study it closely enough. Unusually, B and I didn't even draw it. The Psalterium Romanum, via which the font has been dated to the 10th century or even earlier, uses 'Deus', but this book on fonts says Potterne has 'Dominus'. Tenth century though - that's crazily early. It always gives me a special kick to find these things which were made before that date of 1066 which looms so large in the English psyche.

I'd like to go back and copy the lettering - I don't see it reproduced elsewhere on the internet, other than in indistinct photos. It'd be nice to be able to compare it with other examples. There can't be many.

The font was actually refound in Victorian times - it was discovered under the floor of the nave during the restoration of the church in 1872. What on earth was that about? Presumably when it was buried within the church, it was still held to be important? But why not keep it for its original use? And when was it buried, how long was it buried for? So many questions. And the current font is 100% dull to me. Why would you swap for such a thing.

Images © Rhiannon 2014/15

Monkton Farleigh, Wiltshire

The capitals either side of the door at Monkton Farleigh are Norman. The left one has quite flat trumpet scallops (or that's how they look to me), with some overlapping upside-down arches along the top. The right has a creature's face on top of the column. It might be my current obsession with the curious phenomenon of Anomalous Big Cats, but I wonder if it has a feline look. Maybe it's only the little diamond in the centre that reminds me of a cat's tongue. It may well be a tongue - we've seen lots of faces sticking their tongues out. But it certainly doesn't have cat's teeth, they're square and not half as toothy as the ones at Twerton. No, it's probably not a cat at all. It's got lovely repetitive arches over the eyes. And it's quite strange but I do like it. It has an ancient air, an ancient expression. There's an old photo of the whole doorway at Bath In Time.

Images © Rhiannon 2014

More thoughts on fonts and on visiting them.

I've been reading 'Mawming and Mooning' by Bob Trubshaw, which is free to download from the  Heart of Albion website. He bemoans 'explanationism' of medieval church carvings - simplistic explanations. But here's one he liked:

Where the heads are in the 'four corners' [of a font] (if a round bowl can be thought to have 'corners'), as at Greetham, then for once we do have a fairly reliable idea of what they were intended to denote. They were the four rivers of Paradise. On the face of things this seems as arbitrary as the four humours or the four cardinal directions. But the rite of purification for the water to be used for baptism is based on Genesis 2:10 which refers to the four rivers of Paradise (viz. Phison, Gehon, Tigris and Euphrates). More specifically, it refers to the sources of these rivers - their headwaters. And, in the Vulgate Latin of twelfth century bibles, the word for the headwaters of a river is capita. Think of the modern word 'decapitated', from the Latin caput and the word-play (or perhaps simple misunderstanding) becomes obvious.

This reminded me of the square font at Steeple Langford, with the two faces at its corners (and probably space for two more now destroyed).

But to be honest, we've seen a lot of fonts now. And I can't think of another example at all. If faces were regularly in the corners, the theory would seem like more of a goer. It does make some sense. But to be honest, how many carvers spoke Latin and would have got the joke? I can't see the priests commissioning the work making an explanation of it. Now I've thought it through I'm not convinced at all.

It's strange, on one hand you've got the 'everything's craftily pagan' explanationism of some writers, and then the very straight-laced Record It Like This attitude of the Corpus of Romanesque sculpture. Mr Trubshaw does take a very broad view. And where do I sit? I think it just makes me want to continue in my own vein, discovering the sculptures through drawing them. I can't compete with Mr Trubshaw or the Corpus researchers.

It makes me happy just to visit these sculptures, I don't need to explain them and I'm not sure it'll ever be possible to make definitive statements on them without time travel. With work and coursework there's been a dismaying lack of visits since the end of September - until Monkton Farleigh. But I truly hope to get out and about in the Spring. The arrival of midwinter and a break from work have given me hope.

Avebury, Wiltshire

If I thought the other two fonts today were complicated, they had nothing on the one at Avebury. This one has some order in its geometric arches at the bottom. But the rest is crowded organic foliage, animals and a human figure. There was too much to draw in situ so I took some photos, which I'll have to work further from at a later date.

Images © Rhiannon 2014

Winterbourne Monkton, Wiltshire

The font at Winterbourne Monkton has been on the fringes of my awareness for a long time because of its mysterious figure and proximity to the stone circle at Avebury. It was a lot bigger and chunkier than I was expecting. The carving is very detailed but forthright.

A friendly woman who was arranging things for the Sunday service told me the church had been a 'slipper church', meaning that pilgrims took their shoes off there and continued the rest of the way barefoot. I'm not sure where, she said Santiago de Compostela but I think that was probably a bit optimistic. You'd think maybe Glastonbury, as that's a bit nearer (and the 'Monkton' of Winterbourne Monkton does refer to it being owned by Glastonbury Abbey). All the same I hope the pilgrims took their shoes with them (ew). 

Here's the figure. Some people have wanted to imbue it with Sheela-na-gig style symbolism. But there's nothing to really say if it's even male or female.

The head is almost horned at the top, and it's certainly a funny shape. It's hollowed out and there's no trace of those big eyes you get on Norman sculpture. The arm on the left has got a few extra bends in it compared to mine. And that makes me think it could even be serpenty (with devillish connotations) or maybe foliage. Or maybe the carver just got a bit confused, but wanted it to link up with the big zigzaggy chevrons. Who knows. The hand on the right looks curled round at the wrist.

The legs and feet are more delicately done. I think you can even see toes on one. They both fit nicely into the dips formed by the top of the 'trumpets'. Around the rest of the font those dips house a little foliate design. And that's why I'd say whatever's between the legs is probably similar foliage, rather than being anything indicating the figure's gender.

As the churchgoer pointed out, you can see traces of a lot of paint on the font. And you can see that the carvings were rather hacked about when the paint was removed. It must have looked a bit crazy when it was brightly coloured. But I think I prefer the more minimalist look - the lovely geometric carving doesn't need any extra fuss for me. I wonder when the colour was put on though, was it original?

Here's a nicely contrasty picture of the trumpety motifs and the nailhead between them. And a triple chevron band. Mmmm.

One more thing about the location: I drove into the village over a bridge crossing a wide dry ditch. Dry at this time of the year anyway - I realised it must be the path of the eponymous stream, a tributary of the Kennet which only runs in the winter. There is an interesting blog with photos called Canoeing and Kayaking on the River Kennet.

Images © Rhiannon 2014

Yatesbury, Wiltshire

This drawing probably suffers from the curse of the font base, curse of the font foliage band, curse of the font generally. It looks quite simple when you first see it. But it turned out to be a bit of a challenge. I'm not displeased with it though. It's not a design like any others I've seen so far. The shield-like leaves have long stems tucking under the bowl in a very 3-D way. It was also interesting to note the lock on top. Can't have people getting at that holy water.

 

In English Church Furniture by JC Cox and A Harvey (1908), it says:

Fonts were ordered to have covers and to be kept locked for the double purpose of cleanliness and for checking the use of the water for superstitious purposes. The Bishop of Exeter, in 1287, ordered that each parish church was to be furnished with a baptisterium lapideum bene seratum [a stone baptistry well locked]. Archbishop Winchelsea, in his visitation of 1305, inquired whether there was a fontem cum serura [a font/spring with a lock]. A provincial English synod, held in 1236, provided that the water was to be changed every seven days. The rubric of the first English Prayer-book provided for the change being made once every month; the Scottish book, of 1604, ordered the fortnightly renewal of the water; but by the present rubric there is to be a fresh supply at every baptism.

I feel a bit sorry that there's never any water in the fonts we've visited, after all it is the reason they were created. But maybe having a reservoir of water isn't important to the Church of England. I don't think they go in for all that Holy Water business. You pop the water in, you baptise a few children, you take the water out again. It's not the water so much as the ritual. Next time you need a little bottle of holy water to fend off a vampire, remind yourself that vampires don't exist either.

Images © Rhiannon 2014

Chitterne, Wiltshire

The church at Chitterne is chequered in flint like the one at nearby Tilshead. But (as the friendly woman tending to the flowers explained), it's newer and was built to replace two other churches. I suppose that was some interfering Victorian's idea. The Chitterne website reports "the old church had little architectural merit" but I wonder if that's straight from the lips of the perpetrator. Although it's impressive in its size, the new church has got that kind of sterile emptiness that you don't get in the older, smaller buildings that have layers and layers of history. This document by Julianna Grant explains some more.

The font is genuinely old though and was apparently brought from St Mary's. It's quite plain, with a pattern of thick circular discs and small domes or triangles between. It reminded me a little of the one at Ansty.

Images copyright Rhiannon 2014.