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Contents |
Day 1 |
Day 2 |
Day 3 |
Day 4 |
Day 5 |
Day 6 |
Day 7 |
Malta - Day FourSt. John's Co-Cathedral |
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Once again, some explanation is required. This time, of the rather unusual name of a cathedral. The St. John part of it is fairly easy to explain. Because the Knights of the Order of St. John built it, they named it after their guy, making St. John's Co-Cathedral among the few cathedrals on the island that is not named after St. Paul. Okay, that's covered. Now what is a Co-Cathedral? A Co-Cathedral is a cathedral that shares its place of honor as the main church for a bishop's see. In this case, St. John's shares its position as the hot place of worship with St. Paul's in Mdina. St. Paul's used to be the only cool destination, but St. John's steadily grew in prominence with the rise of Valletta's importance until it was given co-cathedralhood. Which also means that St. Paul's Cathedral in Mdina should have been called a co-cathedral, but I get the feeling that they were in no mood to demote themselves because of some pipsqueak upstart that's only some 300 years old. Admittedly, the exterior of the building leaves something to be desired. Chris and I could have easily walked by without noticing the place, as it is about as ornate as the exterior of a high school. And not some inner city high school that was built in the '40's when it used to be a nice neighborhood and government buildings were still expected to be attractive. I'm talking suburban '70's drab, when doors and windows were considered examples of how our tax dollars were being frivolously wasted. Anyway, the place looks dull. But that’s what you get when a military architect designs your church. This is also a case of not being able to judge a book by its cover. The interior of St. John's Co-Cathedral explodes with supernova burst of color, light, and golden sheen. Every wall, ceiling, floor, archway, column, vault, base, lamp, cornice and capital was adorned in some manner. You could spend an hour merely standing under an archway connecting the side chapels to the main nave while taking in the details of the arch's vault. Each wall was its own masterpiece and every tomb of some bygone grandmaster was an exploration of symbol, form and sculpture. |
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There are eight chapels in St. John's Co-Cathedral, each dedicated to one of the eight langues of the Order of St. John. Each langue was associated with the national origin of its members, such as the Aragonese langue, the German langue and the Italian langue. Each langue was responsible for their own chapel and each of them did their utmost to ensure that their chapel was the finest. The thing about having several groups of people all attempting to outdo each other within view of each other is that each group's effort is made the better for the competition. Thus, each chapel is a masterpiece of art and form that display all the artistry you could desire, supposing that all the artistry you could desire is in the Baroque style. We wandered the interior and examined what there was to see. The by-now-familiar marble tombstone floor was a starring attraction once again. However, the addition of much more brightly colored frescoes on the ceiling (rather than the darker ones we had become accustomed to) was a different experience, making this cathedral noteworthy for its bright disposition. |
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Chris and I were able to explore the interior of St. John's Co-Cathedral through the kind agency of an audio tour. At certain locations inside the church, there was a number posted and you simply entered the number into the audio tour mechanism and it would play a description of the area you were supposed to be looking at. We were not always looking at the right thing at the start, but we eventually figured out which way we were supposed to be pointed. The crowds were, admittedly, an issue. Great piles of schoolchildren, heaps of tour groups and a vast array of individuals and families wandering the interior were almost always in the least convenient spot. Add in the blocked-off passageways between chapels, the blocked-off passageways between the central nave and the chapels, not to mention the renovation work that was happening at the time, and you have some serious crowding that made it hard to get around. But it was hard to blame the crowds for being there. Heck, we were there and we were in no hurry to leave. |
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The issue was the simple fact that there was always more to explore. More details in the sculpture. More detail work in the fresco. A wall filled with plaster work of hypnotic shape that built transfixing patterns that somehow seemed to change from one spot to the next even as they stayed in their straight, order courses. It had all the hallmarks of high culture, yet kept a whisper of folksiness that brings to mind the regular irregularity of a country quilt. Its dense artistry demanded that no space be wasted, yet the very willingness to plunge so many resources into mere adornment was, in some ways, a waste in itself. Which is not the say that the adornment was not justified. The wonder of the adornment was its own justification. It needs no reason other than itself. |
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This was not a Gothic cathedral. It did not have the dour trust in naught but stone for its permanence. St. John's trusts in the powers of civilization to survive and preserve it. Frescoes will remain clean and cared-for. Gold leaf will not be stripped. Canvas can be trusted. Painting will remain as they are. Civilization will endure. This is a cathedral that has as much faith in Man as God. Admittedly, the various historical forces of change and progress do everything possible to prove the architecture of Gothic churches right. Whether it was the Reformation, Calvinism, Puritanism, the Enlightenment, revolutions, counter-revolutions, weather, wars, post-war reconstruction, communist conceptual idealism, capitalist utilitarian pragmatism, or the eternally changing tastes of the latest fashion, history has been more than a little rough on simple paint. I'm sure that the fact that Malta was always something of an afterthought in larger world affairs probably had something to do with its ability to preserve so many of its churches through the centuries. |
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The details of the church and its design are, in many ways, lost to the overwhelming density of details to be absorbed. While that in itself is not a departure from Gothic cathedrals, the frantic bursts of color transformed the interior into a complete departure from the Gothic style. However, it was also altogether different than even the other Baroque churches on the island, turning this cathedral into something else entirely. Chris and I wandered the interior, trying to take it all in, but also with a desire to get away from the crowds and into some quiet time together. I took several pictures, but there was simply too much to capture with a camera. So I tried to actually see the place rather than try to see what it looks like through a viewfinder. All the while, I enjoyed the church as I enjoyed the time with my wife. |
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