Around the year 1200 there was an incredible revolution in architecture in the Paris basin. 3000 churches were built in the area, fueling an explosion of the arts, trade, migration and all forms of entrepreneurship, constructing a legacy that still stands and provokes wonder after eight centuries. In Chartres, as in many cathedrals of the time, masons were disengaged every time their employers run out of money. Masons worked as a company, under a master mason or architect. At the time, people depended on cash: there was a collection destined to the church construction, works were undertaken until the money was gone, and then the company of masons had to be let go and they would just go and find work somewhere else where there was funding. A new collection would kick start a new work cycle and a new company would be engaged. Nine different companies under nine different master masons worked in Chartres, each one coming and going multiple times for the twenty-something years that took to build most of it. Every time, each master mason would take over from where the previous one had left. The sporadicalness of the collections meant that one master could not rely on an overlap to coordinate a takeover. They drew plans of course, and probably left written instructions. However, plans and instructions were not that fixed. Although none of the nine master masons ever left any signature or insignia-we don’t even know the name of any of them,-we can distinguish and single out their contributions because each of them had a particular style, their own way of doing things, of interpreting Christianity-this was at the time one of the duties of a church master mason-and making it physical for the people to see, walk into and worship. What leaves me in awe about Chartres is how we are inspired today by a unique combination of beauty and civil engineering prowess issued from the creativity of nine anonymous men that 800 years ago worked together knowing each other only in the work each of them left behind; it’s what we can do, all odds against us, when we have an inspiration-any inspiration-bigger than ourselves.

Around the year 1200 there was an incredible revolution in architecture in the Paris basin. 3000 churches were built in the area, fueling an explosion of the arts, trade, migration and all forms of entrepreneurship, constructing a legacy that still stands and provokes wonder after eight centuries.

In Chartres, as in many cathedrals of the time, masons were disengaged every time their employers run out of money. Masons worked as a company, under a master mason or architect. At the time, people depended on cash: there was a collection destined to the church construction, works were undertaken until the money was gone, and then the company of masons had to be let go and they would just go and find work somewhere else where there was funding. A new collection would kick start a new work cycle and a new company would be engaged. Nine different companies under nine different master masons worked in Chartres, each one coming and going multiple times for the twenty-something years that took to build most of it.

Every time, each master mason would take over from where the previous one had left. The sporadicalness of the collections meant that one master could not rely on an overlap to coordinate a takeover. They drew plans of course, and probably left written instructions. However, plans and instructions were not that fixed. Although none of the nine master masons ever left any signature or insignia-we don’t even know the name of any of them,-we can distinguish and single out their contributions because each of them had a particular style, their own way of doing things, of interpreting Christianity-this was at the time one of the duties of a church master mason-and making it physical for the people to see, walk into and worship.

What leaves me in awe about Chartres is how we are inspired today by a unique combination of beauty and civil engineering prowess issued from the creativity of nine anonymous men that 800 years ago worked together knowing each other only in the work each of them left behind; it’s what we can do, all odds against us, when we have an inspiration-any inspiration-bigger than ourselves.

Around the year 1200 there was an incredible revolution in architecture in the Paris basin. 3000 churches were built in the area, fueling an explosion of the arts, trade, migration and all forms of entrepreneurship, constructing a legacy that still stands and provokes wonder after eight centuries. In Chartres, as in many cathedrals of the time, masons were disengaged every time their employers run out of money. Masons worked as a company, under a master mason or architect. At the time, people depended on cash: there was a collection destined to the church construction, works were undertaken until the money was gone, and then the company of masons had to be let go and they would just go and find work somewhere else where there was funding. A new collection would kick start a new work cycle and a new company would be engaged. Nine different companies under nine different master masons worked in Chartres, each one coming and going multiple times for the twenty-something years that took to build most of it. Every time, each master mason would take over from where the previous one had left. The sporadicalness of the collections meant that one master could not rely on an overlap to coordinate a takeover. They drew plans of course, and probably left written instructions. However, plans and instructions were not that fixed. Although none of the nine master masons ever left any signature or insignia-we don’t even know the name of any of them,-we can distinguish and single out their contributions because each of them had a particular style, their own way of doing things, of interpreting Christianity-this was at the time one of the duties of a church master mason-and making it physical for the people to see, walk into and worship. What leaves me in awe about Chartres is how we are inspired today by a unique combination of beauty and civil engineering prowess issued from the creativity of nine anonymous men that 800 years ago worked together knowing each other only in the work each of them left behind; it’s what we can do, all odds against us, when we have an inspiration-any inspiration-bigger than ourselves.

Around the year 1200 there was an incredible revolution in architecture in the Paris basin. 3000 churches were built in the area, fueling an explosion of the arts, trade, migration and all forms of entrepreneurship, constructing a legacy that still stands and provokes wonder after eight centuries.

In Chartres, as in many cathedrals of the time, masons were disengaged every time their employers run out of money. Masons worked as a company, under a master mason or architect. At the time, people depended on cash: there was a collection destined to the church construction, works were undertaken until the money was gone, and then the company of masons had to be let go and they would just go and find work somewhere else where there was funding. A new collection would kick start a new work cycle and a new company would be engaged. Nine different companies under nine different master masons worked in Chartres, each one coming and going multiple times for the twenty-something years that took to build most of it.

Every time, each master mason would take over from where the previous one had left. The sporadicalness of the collections meant that one master could not rely on an overlap to coordinate a takeover. They drew plans of course, and probably left written instructions. However, plans and instructions were not that fixed. Although none of the nine master masons ever left any signature or insignia-we don’t even know the name of any of them,-we can distinguish and single out their contributions because each of them had a particular style, their own way of doing things, of interpreting Christianity-this was at the time one of the duties of a church master mason-and making it physical for the people to see, walk into and worship.

What leaves me in awe about Chartres is how we are inspired today by a unique combination of beauty and civil engineering prowess issued from the creativity of nine anonymous men that 800 years ago worked together knowing each other only in the work each of them left behind; it’s what we can do, all odds against us, when we have an inspiration-any inspiration-bigger than ourselves.

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  1. sourberries posted this

About:

My name is Luz and I move a lot, form apartment to apartment, from city to city, from country to country.
Over time I have developed my own small nomadic idiosyncrasy. I've given up my material possessions more than once. I grew apart from people and then re-found them. I have entered places foreign and then became local. I learned to cook food with varied ingredients and to love goat cheese.
Wandering is about experiencing. Not everything has been great, not everything has gone as planned. Maybe not everything was planned that well. But there was also good in the unexpected. I've encountered and all kinds of things, people and places: some that I met along the way, some that I left behind and learned how different they look from afar, and some that just popped into my mind during a long train ride alone.

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