Editorial: Mater Ecclesia
by Duncan G. Stroik, appearing in Volume 46
On July 14, 1902, when the great campanile of San Marco in Venice crashed 328 feet down to the piazza and was totally destroyed, the people were distraught. The response of the mayor was “dov’era e com’era”: we will rebuild it “where it was and how it was.” On April 15, 2019, when the great spire at the crossing of Notre-Dame de Paris crashed through the roof and fell 315 feet to the floor of the cathedral, the response of President Emmanuel Macron was that it should be rebuilt “geste architectural contemporain”: “with a contemporary architectural gesture.” The artistic elites and the architectural establishment were elated.
Five and a half years later, the rebuilding of this masterpiece of Gothic architecture has been instead “reconstruite à l’identique,” identically rebuilt, following the wishes of the common man and scholars of all stripes. The 2,000 workers and craftsmen who worked so hard to rebuild the beloved cathedral “dov’era e com’era,” under the able direction of state architects Philippe Villeneuve and Rémi Fromont, showed the true glory of France. Rather than arrogant, edgy, and contemporary, they did something respectful, harmonious, and timeless. As humbling as it was for the architects and the modern art curators and even some in the Church, it was exhilarating for both the rich and poor, French and otherwise, who wanted the cathedral to be rebuilt as it was. Over 340,000 donors from 150 countries donated over $928 million, including Americans who, at $62 million, were the largest donors outside of France.
The majestic cathedral, beautiful and whole, is a victory for permanence in architecture. Against the wishes of many elites, architects, and technological experts, the huge wooden trusses were rebuilt using the same type of handheld axes and wood joinery used by the medieval craftsmen. The 750-ton spire, or flèche, was rebuilt using the same nineteenth-century methods of wood construction and lead roofing that Viollet-le-Duc oversaw. This was the spire that the moderns wanted to replace with something contemporary that would signal France as a beacon of secular progress.
The new stone vaulting, 108 feet above the floor, repairs the holes in the ceiling and the arches, most noticeably the central quadripartite vault that had to be totally remade. This great vault is approximately forty-two feet square immediately below the flèche, and has new six-inch-thick limestone voussoirs which span the crossing on four huge arches and two cross ribs. It is a demonstration of the ability to build vaulted ceilings in masonry once again, which was a French specialty for centuries.
Heavy timber, lead, and stone were the most damaged in the conflagration, but the restoration has encompassed all the arts and crafts, including restoring the organ, the rose windows, flooring, woodwork, and wall murals. Notre-Dame is an epitome of the Gothic cathedral, and the age-old methods that have been tested here can be applied to other great buildings. Many of the common people expect that reusing the same high level of design and traditional craftsmanship which enabled this building to stand for so long will ensure that church of Our Lady of Paris lasts for another 860 years.
Christians believe that God can bring great good out of evil, and in the case of Notre-Dame, it is my hope that this act of reconstruction will bring many of the eldest daughters back to Mater Ecclesia, Mother Church. Americans and Catholics worldwide rejoice with the people of Paris at the great sacrifices made to return this great masterpiece to its former glory. What if we seized this opportunity to thank the donors and craftsmen by continuing this great work of love in other places? France has demonstrated that a great nation can rebuild at the level of the Age of the Cathedrals. Why cannot America and other nations build new buildings of the beauty and quality of the thirteenth century? It is once again time to build in stone, to raise walls high, to vault our ceilings in limestone, to buttress the walls, to construct heavy timber and lead towers to the heavens, and revive the art of murals, statues, and stained glass.
The French organization of craftsmen and artisans, the Compagnons de Devoir, has assisted the world in rebuilding this icon in only five years. They can help us to build anew in Europe, Asia, Africa, and the New World. Just as many young people in France stepped up to this dangerous yet satisfying work, I see many youths in the United States who want to work with their hands and produce things of lasting value. What wonders might we see if the common people were to unite with the captains of industry and demand that architects and engineers use their talents with humility, not to create “contemporary architectural gestures” but profound works of beauty for mankind, for Our Lady, Notre Dame, and for her son?