The White Mantle of Churches. Architecture, Liturgy, and Art around the Millennium (review)

One intriguing issue facing medieval historians is whether the passing of the millennium in the year 1000 had any connection with the birth of Romanesque architecture. Nobody can deny that the early years of the eleventh century brought a new and more ambitious approach to building, something that the contemporary chronicler Rodulf Glaber appeared to sense in his famous comment about the world "shrugging off the burden of the past" and "cladding itself everywhere in a white mantle of churches." But was the chronicler providing a literal description of church building or was the phrase "white mantle of churches" merely a metaphor for a new world order, brought about by monastic reform and political stability? The interpretation of Glaber's comments lies at the heart of several of the essays in this impressively produced collection, nine out of fourteen of which were delivered as papers at the Leeds medieval conference in a session designed to mark the year 2000.

Several contributors review the nature of architectural activity on either side of the year 1000, the general thrust of the arguments being to emphasize continuity rather than sudden change. But the arguments are not really conclusive either way. Most of the key monuments have been destroyed or reconstructed, and precise evidence for building chronologies is rare. We are reminded that evidence is "elusive," problems are "notorious," interpretation is "difficult," and questions are "complex." It is perhaps inevitable, therefore, that the conclusions reached in some chapters are not as impressive as the display of learning (of 264 pages of text and illustrations, some fifty-nine are occupied by footnotes).

Refreshing in its clarity is Carolyn Malone's study of St. Benigne at Dijon, that extraordinary building designed by Glaber's mentor, William of Volpiano, around the year 1000-01. As well as providing a succinct account of the design, the author deconstructs Glaber's text in a subtle and plausible way. The three levels of the rotunda, she argues, "afforded access to God, expressed as light descending through its oculus" while at the same time providing an anagogical framework for worshipers ascending upward through the various storeys to the light and altar of the Trinity. Equally memorable is the final essay in the book, by Richard Landes, who depicts an alternative view of the millennium, one which subverts assumptions made by some of his fellow authors. Far from being a non event, the millennium may have been regarded by William of Volpiano (and his acolyte Rodulf) as a dramatic turning point in history, inaugurating an era in which a renewal of the Church "brought the saving grace of God to earth, transforming it from a world of war and injustice to one of peace and prosperity." At a "popular" level, Landes suggests, the millennium had a profound impact, producing a more inclusive approach to Christianity, one that encouraged the development of pilgrimage and the building of new churches. Architectural historians would do well to study the implications of this thought-provoking study.

Other chapters are somewhat removed from millennial concerns. There is an excellent analysis by Kristina Krüger of the Burgundian westwerk, though the author prefers the more neutral term avant-nef. This is a lucid and measured essay in which the architectural layout is related to liturgical practices at Cluny, in particular to the commemoration of the dead. The word "galilee," Krüger explains, was used to describe this part of the church, the term being derived from Christ's warning to his disciples that he would re-appear to them in Galilee, just as the monks would be united with Christ at the time of death. Less convincing, perhaps, is the sharpness of her...