Opening the Doors to Heaven: Lion Head Doorknockers from the Treasury of Freckenhorst Church

Maria Gordusenko, PhD History of Art, University of Edinburgh

Figure 1. Church of St Bonifatius in Freckenhorst, Westphalia, Germany.

Photo: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/bf/Freckenhorst_St._Bonifatius_Stiftskirche.jpg

The Treasury of Freckenhorst Church in Westphalia (Germany) possesses two doorknockers cast in bronze. They were produced for the doors of the main portal of this Church at the end of the eleventh century (figure 1). Originally set at the church doors, the Freckenhorst doorknockers were not only handles with a merely practical function: their significance expanded far beyond. These doorknockers are made in a form of lion heads that hold ring-shaped handles in their teeth (figure 2). The handles are notable for an inscription mentioning a man by the name ‘Bernhardus.’ Its position at the doorknockers’ handles suggests that the maker wanted the faithful to notice the inscription and read it, think about their souls, pray for the said Bernhardus, and then enter the Church. This inscription resembles a pious petition[1]:

‘HAS IANVAS GENTEM CAVSA PRECIS INGREDIENTEM,’: ‘IXPC REX REGVM FACIAT CONCENDERE CAELVM BERNHARDVS ME FECIT.’

[‘May Jesus Christ the King of kings see to it (faciat) that the people who enter (literally entering) these doors to pray (for the sake of prayer) ascend to Heaven. Bernhardus made me.’] 

Figure 2. Lion Head Doorknocker, ca 1085. Treasury of Freckenhorst Church, Westphalia, Germany. Photo:  A. Legner, Der Artifex: Künstler im Mittelalter und ihre Selbstdarstellung: eine illustrierte Anthologie (Cologne: Greven, 2009), p. 226, fig. 300.

The symbolic nature of lion head doorknockers is rooted in antiquity. The continuity of this motif can be traced from the fifth century BC up to the Christian Middle Ages. Christian artists adopted, rethought and enriched the images of lions and their symbolism. Since antiquity, lion’s masks with rings in their mouths were commonly used to decorate doorknockers or handles of chests. A lion was regarded as an embodiment of strength and as a symbol of the sun. That is why the manes of lions head doorknockers were often modelled to look like flames (Vermeule 1988, p. 127).

In various contexts, references to lions occur in the Bible. The lion, as the strongest of the beasts, was referred to as a positive symbol of power and royalty (Proverbs 30:30). Images of lions decorated the throne of Solomon (1 Kings 10:18-20). When depicted with a book of Gospels, the Lion is associated with the Evangelist St Mark. Sometimes it can even be regarded as an image of Christ. In the Revelation, the Lion of Judah (as the symbol of the Jewish tribe) is used as a direct reference to Christ (Revelation 5:5).

The doorknockers from Freckenhorst, just like other examples, symbolise Christ and deliverance from sins (Mende 1983, p. 151). In this respect, rings held by lions in their teeth can also be interpreted as important elements. In pagan Germanic cultures a ring was recognised as a symbol of an oath or law; knights took or reaffirmed oaths on rings (Bley 1990, pp. 190-191). Rings at the doors of ancient temples and Christian churches were symbols of asylum. For instance, a fugitive clasping a ring at the doors of a temple or a church would have been granted protection from his chasers. Metaphorically, Christ was seen by the faithful as a refuge, as one of the Psalms says: ‘The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge’ (Psalm 18:2). In this respect, a doorknocker in a form of a lion head, holding a ring in its teeth would have been associated with Christ the lawgiver and formed a strong reference to church as an asylum for the faithful.

The conception of a church as an asylum, where the faithful can shelter from sin and the devil, is reflected at Hildesheim Cathedral on its bronze doors and in the Freckenhorst doorknockers. The Bernward Doors at Hildesheim have a representation of the Hand of God, which is paralleled to a master’s hand. It appears exactly at the level of the ring of the lion head doorknocker, and is shown as if it is going to clasp it claiming for an asylum inside the church (figure 3). This may convey the maker’s message that he repulses sinful life and wishes to stay in the church and to be saved by Christ. 

Figure 3.Bernward Doors, ca 1015. Fragment with the Hand and the Ring of the Doorknocker. Hildesheim Cathedral, Germany. Photo: https://workofartists.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/bernwardstc3bcr_21.jpg

The position of Bernhardus’s inscription on the ring-shaped handles of the Freckenhorst doorknockers ensured that it followed their circular shape and allowed a parallel to be drawn between Bernhardus’s words and an oath. Being reaffirmed endlessly, like the shape of a circle, an oath would never be broken and Bernhardus’s petition will be reiterated permanently. But there is also another important aspect to Bernhradus’s doorknockers and inscription. It is related to the reception of bronze as a special material, which is able to animate images or make inscribed petitions sound and reach Christ in a sonorous form. For medieval minds, bronze was resonating, ever-changing composite material that possessed almost magical power; and some medieval treatises emphasise the significance of material qualities of bronze objects to resonate and sound (Weinryb 2016, pp. 98-99).

The distinct echoing sound of the Freckenhorst bronze doorknockers would literally signify Bernhardus’s name and his petition being pronounced. In other words, the text inscribed by the artist at the handles would acquire signification through sound. As a result, the person who used Bernhardus’s doorknockers and heard their sound would have recalled the maker and, supposedly, pray for him. But, most importantly, the sound of the doorknockers would be addressed directly to Christ, whom Bernhardus had mentioned in his inscription. Metaphorically, it may be equated to knocking on the doors of Paradise and asking for salvation.

The position of Bernhardus’s petition to the Saviour at doorknockers of church doors was not an accidental choice; in the medieval period church doors were assigned various symbolic meanings. A church was perceived as an asylum from sin, whereas liminal spaces, the entrance to a church and its doors, were commonly associated with the Gates of Heaven and with the Saviour (figure 4). As Christ said: ‘I am the gate. If anyone enters through Me, he will be saved’ (John 10:9). Similar to many other artists and bronze casters, Bernhardus meant his doorknockers and the inscription on them as a manifestation of his petition to Christ and believed that his work may open him the doors to life eternal (Frazer 1990, p. 273). 

Figure 4. Bernward Doors, ca1015. Fragment with the Hand and the Ring of the Doorknocker.  Hildesheim Cathedral, Germany. Photo: http://www.dom-hildesheim.de/en/content/redesigning-cathedral-interior

Works Cited

 
Bley, H. ‘'Bernhardus me fecit': die romanischen Löwenkopf-Türzieher in Freckenhorst,’ Westfalen 68 (1990): 185. 
Frazer, M. ‘Church Doors and the Gates of Paradise Reopened,’ in Le porte di bronzo dall’antichita al secolo XIII, ed. S. Salomi, 271-279, (Rome: Istituto della Enciclopedia italiana, 1990), 273.  
Mende, U. (1983). Die Bronzetüren des Mittelalters, 800-1200. Munich: Hirmer.
Vermeule, C. (1988). Sculpture in Stone and Bronze: Additions to the Collections of Greek, Etruscan, and Roman Art, 1971-1988, in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Boston: The Museum.
Weinryb, I. (2016). The Bronze Object in the Middle Ages. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.


[1] I am grateful to Dr Patricia Brignall for her advice on the translation of this inscription.

Towards the Freedom of Self-Representation in the Twelfth Century: Liutprecht – the Sculptor from the Crypt of St Corbinian at Freising Cathedral

Maria Gordusenko, PhD History of Art, University of Edinburgh

The reconstruction of Freising Cathedral after a great fire in 1159 was completed only in 1205. It was an important step in proclaiming the city of Freising as a pilgrimage destination. The new enlarged Crypt was built by 1161, in a fairly short time span because of the necessity to accommodate the Sarcophagus and altar of St Corbinian.

The Crypt has reused old columns with simple capitals, and new columns with decorated capitals. Embellished with foliage and floral motifs, they create an atmosphere of a magical forest inhabited with various creatures, fantastic birds and griffins, and anthropomorphic characters. Taking into account the semi-darkness of the hall, with its flickering candlelight, it is possible to envisage what effect such decoration might have had on the medieval pilgrims descending into the Crypt.

Figure 1. The Crypt of St Corbinian, Freising Cathedral. Photo by Klaus Rommel.

The motifs of vine and transformation demonstrate the central idea of the sculptural programme in the Crypt of St Corbinian. It is an idea of a spiritual journey to God and salvation that Christians undertake by freeing themselves from sins and vice. Some capitals have figures of men entwined with floral stems, probably symbolising the sins restricting their freedom. This metaphorical idea of spiritual rebirth is reflected in a signed capital of a column in the Eastern part of the Crypt. The floral stems in it transform from bonds to gracefully curved vines; one of the two bearded men represented at the capital holds a bunch of grapes that indicate Eucharistic connotations. Placed directly above the representation of the second bearded man, the name LIVT / PRECHT is broken into two syllables by the angle of the abacus; it completely follows the structure of the capital. This makes a firm association with the figurative representation. The man’s individualised face and thoughtful expression stand out among all the fantastic creatures found on other carved capitals and allow suggesting that it may be an image of a sculptor or a donor.

Figure 2. The Capital signed: LIVT / PRECHT (detail). Ca 1159 – 1160. Crypt of St Corbinian, Freising Cathedral. Photo: Legner 2009, p. 293. 

The column with Liutprecht’s capital is located next to the most important object in the Crypt, the Sarcophagus of St Corbinian. When facing the Sarcophagus, the viewer would see the column to their right and exactly at an angle that would permit them to observe Liutprecht’s face and read the inscription of his name. Thus, Liutprecht has purposely selected a very specific audience that would have been able to see his name. It is what a praying priest or a pilgrim would notice while standing in front of the Sarcophagus and altar of St Corbinian. This guaranteed that Liutprecht will be remembered and that his devotion to St Corbinian will be expressed permanently, securing him a place in Heaven.

Figure 3. Bishop Prof Dr Reinhard Marx praying in front of the Sarcophagus of St Corbinian. Note the column with the capital signed LIVT/PRECHT. Freising Cathedral, Crypt of St Corbinian. Source.  

On the contrary, people wondering in the Crypt would instead notice fragments of his name LIVT or PRECHT, depending upon the direction from which they approached the column. This attempt to humbly conceal his name from a wider audience shows that Liutprecht was concerned with religious values rather than gaining recognition among people. All these factors reveal complex spatial thinking, artistic intelligence, and spirituality of the sculptor.

Figure 4. The Capital signed: LIVT / PRECHT (detail). Ca 1159 – 1160. Crypt of St Corbinian, Freising Cathedral. Source.

The Christian male name Liutprecht can be interpreted as the light (brightness) of people, where liut stands for people and associates with the pilgrims visiting the Crypt, and precht, in Old German, means the bright and glorious (Steub 1870, p. 66; Yonge 1884, p. 430). In the darkness of the Crypt this would have had an even more special significance, as it interconnects with the symbolism of light associated with pious life and God.

The name Liutprecht is rarely cited in medieval documents from around the time when the works in the Crypt took place and Liutprecht’s capital was carved. However, the First Necrolog of Kremsmünster Abbey (beginning of the 12th century - end of the 13th century) mentions a certain Liutprecht among those commemorated and honoured by the Abbey. He is listed as a conversi or lay bother, of the Benedictine Abbey of St Lambrecht at Styria, now Austria (Altinger 1897, pp. 22, 128). The manuscript also commemorates the bishops of Freising, and clergy and lay brothers from other Benedictine monasteries in the neighbouring areas. It indicates that there existed good connections between the Benedictine abbeys in this region.

The period covered by the Necrolog coincides with the time of restoration works in the Crypt of St Corbinian. Taking into account the rarity of the name Liutprecht, its presence in the manuscript and in the Crypt suggest that it actually might refer to the same person, who was active at that particular period and in that specific area. In addition, a long-standing tradition of communication and exchange between the Benedictine abbeys around Freising makes it is feasible that Liutprecht may have become engaged in works on Freising Cathedral. Being a conversi, and not a regular monk, Liutprecht had more possibilities to travel, was likely to be involved in manual labour, such as sculpting, and would have had more freedom in manifesting his authorship with a signature (Dohme 1877, p. 51).

It was quite common for conversi to be architects, masons, carpenters and sculptors (Hélyot and Bullot 1863, p. 462 ; Johnston 2000, p. 748). The lay brothers, or conversi, in the Benedictine Order were those who renounced the world in adult life (‘Lay Brothers’, The Catholic Encyclopedia). According to the rule for conversi, they had to dedicate themselves to hard manual labour, wear simple habits, and have beards (sometimes conversi were referred to as laici barbati). They were not allowed to have a tonsure, could not enjoy the privileges of regular monks, and were required to remain illiterate (Johnston 2000, p. 748). The latter might explain the simplicity of Liutprecht’s signature: as an illiterate conversi, he may have known how to write his name, but was evidently unable to compose long inscriptions in Latin.

The image of Liutprecht at the capital shows him as a mature bearded man. These details are vital and might indicate that it is indeed a representation of a conversi, or, at least, of a layman. Just like any conversi, he must have renounced the world and entered religious life as a mature man. The overall idea of sculptural decoration in the Crypt showing the conversion from a pagan (or a sinner) to a pious Christian, who aspires to salvation, may interconnect with Liutprecht’s personal life choices. This, however, did not restrict his freedom in travelling for work and producing self-representations.

Works Cited

Altinger, A. (1897). Die zwei ältesten Nekrologien von Kremsmünster. Wien: Gerold.
Dohme, R. (1877). Kunst und Künstler des Mittelalters und der Neuzeit: Biographien und Charakteristiken. Volume 1, Part 1. Leipzig: E.A. Seemann.
Hélyot, P. and Bullot, M. (1863). Dictionnaire des ordres religieux ou, Histoire des ordres monastiques, religieux et militaires, et des congrégations séculières. Paris: Chez l'éditeur.
Johnston, W. M. (2000). Encyclopedia of Monasticism. London: Fitzroy Dearborn.
‘Lay Brothers.’ The Catholic Encyclopedia. http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/09093a.htm. Accessed December 9, 2015.
Legner, A. (2009). Der Artifex. Cologne: Greven Verlag.
Steub, L. (1870). Die oberdeutschen Familiennamen. München: R. Oldenbourg.
Yonge, C. M. (1884). History of Christian Names. London : Macmillian.

Religion and Daily Life: What Church Architecture Can Tell Us About Life in Byzantine Lycia

Audrey Scardina - PhD in Archaeology, University of Edinburgh, with help from the The Suna & İnan Kıraç Research Institute on Mediterranean Civilizations AKMED research grants.  

In this post I will discuss the results of my August/September 2014 research trip to Southwest Turkey, ancient Lycia. I will focus on one of the sites covered in my LAMPS paper given on September 15th. The trip was undertaken in order to further research on my PhD, entitled, 'Ecclesiastical Architecture and Settlement in Byzantine Lycia,' where I study the architectural developments of Byzantine churches throughout the region in conjunction with secular builds. Through the changes in this architecture over time, I aim to glean a better understanding of the history of these sites and the people that populated them.

Figure 1. Plan of Istlada

Source: Institut für Klassische Archäologie, Wien

Our focus is the site of Istlada, which is located inland about ca. 1km from the sea (Bayburtluoğlu 2004, 212). It is built up a steep hill, where the church is located at the bottom of the hill. Of the church Clive Foss, who surveyed the Lycian Coast in 1994, says nothing except for acknowledging its existence (27). The site was surveyed by Thomas Marksteiner's team from 1994 - 1998, though I have yet to be able to access their publications. In a later publication, Marksteiner (2010, 142) dates the basilica to the 6th century, the associated apsidal room to the same period, and the barrel-vaulted chapel to the middle to late Byzantine period (Fig. 1).

Figure 2. Apse of basilca, looking east.

Source: Self

The 6th century basilica is built of stone-faced rubble and mortar (Fig. 2), where the stones are often large in size, ca. 60 - 80 cm. The apse of the basilica is built of ashlar masonry. The associated apsidal room, referred to by Marksteiner (2010, 142) as a 'reliquary chapel', is also built of stone-faced rubble and mortar, including the apse. The blocks used to build this chapel are notably smaller than those used to build the basilica, ca. 40-50 cm (Fig. 3). This change in construction technique, especially due to the apse being built of stone-faced rubble and mortar instead of ashlar, suggests that the chapel should be considered a second phase of construction. 

Figure 3. Apse of apsidal room

Source: Self

 

This theory is aided when examining the relationship of the apsidal room to the basilica. As is visible on the plan (Fig. 1), the way in which these two buildings functioned together is as yet unclear from the remains on the ground. If the northern chapel wall were to extend directly southwest, as the southern wall does, it would abut the basilica's southeast corner. There is, however, no evidence for this taking place. If the structures were built in the same period, as Marksteiner has suggested, one would expect an obvious doorway between the two structures, which, again is nowhere to be found.

Figure 4. Northern doorway of western wall in apsidal room

Source: Self

The matter becomes more complicated when looking at the wall to the west of the apsidal room, which presumably would have been the back wall of the building, as well as the access point. There are three gaps in the wall; one between the southern wall extending off the apse, tone that seems central, and then one to the north. The northern gap is the most incongruous; If the wall off of the north of the apse was to follow a straight line, as the southern wall does, it would hit this western wall to the south of the northern gap. There is, however, no evidence for wall joining on this segment of wall (Figure 4). What does exist is a large block of stone ca. 1m up the wall that protrudes to the east, north, and south of the wall, and above which is the springing of an archway. The problems do not stop here, ca. 70 cm from the arch springing is another wall, which would have cut the archway almost in half. It unclear if the rubble between these two walls was purposeful walling up, or is just rubble from the collapse of the archway. 

Figure 5. Apse of later chapel, looking southwest

Source: Self 

This suggests far more layers of occupation and phases of building than originally suggested by Marksteiner. The site is further complicated by the addition of the vaguely dated middle- to late-Byzantine Chapel located inside the basilica (Fig. 5). The chapel is built of s stone-faced rubble and mortar, where the stone facing is irregular. It was then covered in a layer of mortar that would have originally been frescoed (Marksteiner 2010, 142). At some point, most likely before the chapel was built, the windows and doors of the basilica were walled up. Though, as mentioned above, it is unclear whether the doorways to the apsidal were walled up, there is no evidence for filling in the windows of the apse. This could suggest that the apsidal room was still in use while the chapel was being used. 

Though my research trip was incredibly helpful to my project, as usual it left me with more questions than answers. For Istlada, I will begin by trying to examine the different phases of the building in more detail, as well as by studying the connection of the basilica and the apsidal room. I believe this is key to understanding how the function of this church changed over time, which may help us to understand how the interaction of citizens of Istlada with the church evolved as well. 

The better dating and understanding of the apsidal room may also help to refine the date of the chapel within the basilica as well. This phenomenon, of a chapel being built inside an earlier basilica, is actually region-wide and will need to be researched at a wider scale before any strong conclusions can be drawn. Until then I am left to wonder what the state of the earlier basilica would have been while the chapel was in use. Was it ruined? If so was it the collapse of the church that merited the much smaller rebuild, or was that due to changes in liturgy? Or, was the church at some point simply too large and impractical? Next time, maybe I will have the answers. 

Works Cited: 
BAYBURTLUOĞLU, C. 2004. Lycia (Volume 1 van Suna & İnan Kırac Research Institute on Mediterranean Civilizations travel guide series). Istanbul: Homer Kitabevi ve Yayincilik Ltd.

MARKSTEINER, T. 2010. Lykien: ein archäologischer Führer. Wien: Phoibos. 

ND. Institut für Klassische Archäologie, Istlada Survey. [online] Available at < https://klass-archaeologie.univie.ac.at/forschung/istlada-survey/> [Accessed 29 September 2014].