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Climate Change and Medieval Sacred Architecture
Chris Simmons
Notre Dame de Paris
Geography 495H
Dr. Jongnam Choi
Acknowledgement A very special thanks to Dr. Jongnam Choi for advising and evaluating this project. All of his help over the course of these past few years will always be warmly remembered by this author.
A Guide to Medieval Architectural Periods and Terms Approximate Dates for Architectural Periods Early Romanesque: 950 - 1080 A.D. High Romanesque: around 1100 A.D. Late Romanesque: 1130 - 1200 A.D. German Late Romanesque: 1140-1215 A.D. Early Gothic: 1140 - 1215 A.D. Rayonnant Gothic (Decorated), also High Gothic: 1215 - 1300 A.D. Flamboyant Gothic (Perpendicular), also Late Gothic: 1300 - 1500 A.D. Architectural Terms Ambulatory: A passageway that extends around the choir to allow the circulation of people through the church Apse (Apsidial): A small chapel attached to the wall of a church, usually radiating outside of the main body of the church (Apsidial--relating to an apse) Buttress: A structure used to support the thrust of the ceiling vaults of a church or cathedral, often extending beyond the exterior wall (however, internal buttressing is also used in some locations) Buttress Pier: A tall, narrow tower extending upward from the aisle level to support buttresses flying outward from the upper clerestory or roof level Choir (Quire): The eastern end of the church, where the altar is located Clerestory: The upper levels of the interior of a church, where large windows are often placed Flying Buttress: A buttress that arcs outward from the exterior wall, used in many Gothic churches Jamb: A figural sculpture placed to the sides of a portal in a Romanesque or Gothic church Lancet: A thin window (usually placed directly adjacent to other similar windows), used most often underneath a rose window Lintel: A rectangular frieze above the door but below the tympanum in a portal, sometimes stretched beyond the portal along the sides of the building in Romanesque churches (but often contained to the portal in early Gothic churches and eliminated altogether in later Gothic churches). Pinnacle: A steep, small, spire-like extension that often sheds rain outward
Portal: A church door or entrance, often surrounded by sculptures Nave: The main centre aisle of the church before the choir (western half of the church); on cross plans it corresponds to the lower vertical component of the cross Spandrel: The wall space immediately above the columns in an arcade, usually lining the nave near the mid levels of a church and often decorated with paintings or mosaics in the Romanesque period. Tracery: Thin, often curving stone decoration added to windows or architectural facades Transept: a north or south aisle extending away from the main aisle of a church; on cross plans, the transept are the wings making up the horizontal component of the cross Tribune Gallery: A passageway at the mid level of the church, formerly used to hold women or persons directing a service Triforium: An arcade (series of columns and arches) at the mid levels of a church between the aisle level and the clerestory, most common in Romanesque and Early Gothic churches and usually possessing a tribune gallery Tympanum: a half circular or bent triangular stone slab above the doors in a church’s portal entrance, often possessing relief sculptures during the Romanesque and Gothic eras
Simmons 1
Abstract
Shelter, as a means of providing an environment protected from the elements,
has always been a function of climate for traditional and premodern cultures. This study attempts
to explore the influence of climate and climate change on historical European shelters, and
particularly Medieval sacred architecture (which perhaps provides the best, most intact, and most
elaborate examples of constructions made during this period in history). In particular, building
elements and styles between the Medieval Warm Period (1000-1200), during which much of
Europe possessed a dry, sunny Mediterranean-like climate, and the Little Ice Age, which was
characterized by below normal temperatures and rainier conditions over Northern Europe were
analyzed. First, this study identifies the most dramatic architectural change of the high Middle
Ages—that from Romanesque to Gothic between 1150 and 1200 A.D. The Romanesque style,
with its small windows, low inclination roofs, and Classical Mediterranean design, was more
suitable to the dry, warm Mediterranean climates. Romanesque remained popular well into the
Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries in southern and western France and Italy, long after the
invention of the Gothic style, largely due to the Romanesque’s regional climactic suitability to
the Mediterranean.
However, as rain, snow, cloudier weather, and colder temperatures became more
prevalent in the north, architects were compelled to design churches and cathedrals that would
provide more interior lighting (larger windows) and better roofing. The Gothic style, with its
pointed spires, high inclination roofs, large, symmetric windows, and efficient drainage system
in the form of gargoyles, was more suitable the Little Ice Age climate of Northern Europe. When
the Gothic style was used in Mediterranean countries it often took on vastly different qualities,
Simmons 2
and many of these southern Gothic churches were similar to the Romanesque and Early Gothic
designs from the Medieval Warm Period.
In addition to linking international architectural style changes in Medieval Europe to
climactic patterns, this study tracks the regional shifts in architectural styles still visible today,
such as the differences between Gothic windows in France versus Gothic windows in Italy, as
well as style changes over time (such as the expansion of window size and reduction of deep-
color stain glass usage from the high to late Medieval eras in northern Europe, as well as the
slow progression of gargoyles from northern to southern France at the onset of the Little Ice
Age). In addition, this research seeks to identify ways in which some of these style changes can
be seen as indicative of the location of the jet stream as it moved from a mean position over
central Scandinavia during the Medieval Warm Period to a new location over Northern Europe
(which provided these regions with colder and rainier weather). Introduction
Shelters have always been integral elements of human society; people have relied on
them since prehistoric times to provide vital protection from the elements of the outside world.
Of all these external realities with which humans are concerned, weather and climate are perhaps
the most fundamental considerations that go into the construction of shelters. We, as culturally
adaptive creatures, have the remarkable ability to modify our environments and live on virtually
any region of the earth where food and water are obtainable, and people familiar with a given
environment are often able to devise creative and effective adaptations to their native climates.
This is readily illustrated by traditional-style shelters developed around the world. For example,
the insulating, thick tent shelter adopted by the inhabitants of the desert Mongolian plain are
perfect for the dry, cold plains of northeast Asia, serving to keep dust out while sustaining
Simmons 3
internal warmth. Similarly, the stilted and ventilated houses of tropical regions allow for greater
internal circulation (resulting in a cooler interior) and protection from the deleterious effects of
the heavy moisture content of the soil during rainy portions of the year. And European shelters
are no different, with the brick-roofed villas and courtyards of Italy providing perfect shelters for
the hot, dry Mediterranean climate and houses with steep timber or mansard roofs in France or
England affording adequate protection from damp conditions, frequent rain, and occasional
snow.
Therefore, art and architectural historians, when studying the modification of building
styles and features through the ages, should also take into account changes in the weather and
climate that might have corresponded to or indirectly encouraged these alterations. Indeed, the
art and science of architecture itself can be simply defined as the innovations and features used in
construction of shelters, and while our modern society may have developed the technology
(using metals and sturdy artificial materials) to construct the same type and format of building
virtually anywhere in the world without modifying it substantially, more traditional, pre-modern
societies that construct buildings using their own flesh and blood and out of materials taken (by
traditional methods) directly from the earth must weigh climate matters more carefully. In
addition, these traditional societies must also be more willing to respond to the changes in
prevailing weather conditions that do gradually take place over time. Thus, looking at
architectural modifications during the pre-modern Medieval period might provide a better
indication of architects’ climate-related concerns than those buildings that were built using the
sturdy and more universally sustainable Western architectural innovations of later periods. In
addition, the Middle Ages also provide a particularly interesting example of architectural
Simmons 4
evolution because they stretch across one of the most dramatic climate transitions that have taken
place in the common era—the shift from the Medieval Warm Period to the Little Ice Age.
Unfortunately, this aspect of architectural science is often overlooked, and many
Medieval art historians use a linear historical outlook to label the transitions in style that took
place during the Middle Ages as simply architectural progress, innovation, ingenuity, or evolving
aesthetic tastes rather than considering the possibility that these changes may have served as
adaptations to a changing landscape. For example, in the architectural styles of pre-modern
Medieval Europe, the Romanesque style is followed by the Gothic style in the north, whereas in
the south many churches remained Romanesque until the Renaissance (at which point they were
built in Renaissance classicist style). Art historians are more likely to ascribe these differences to
regional trends, such as the influences of Byzantium and the Classical past in the south (and the
lack of this influence in the north), rather than to regional differences associated with climate and
climate change.
On the other hand, William Wachs, author of the influential book The Historical
Geography of Medieval Church Architecture, takes a more integrated viewpoint of the
differences in church architecture. In particular, he defined the north as having a cold, wet (and
potentially snowy) climate with substantial cloud cover for many days of the year and the south
as a mild, primarily dry region with persistent bright sunshine (Wachs 39-42). He then explains
how external building features, such as roofs, buttresses, drainage systems, and windows, varied
across Europe according to these generalized north-south climactic differences. His regional
observations are particularly helpful in understanding the architecture of the Late Gothic era;
however, many of them do not hold true for the Romanesque architectural period. Like
traditional architectural historians embracing the linear approach to history, Wachs ascribes the
Simmons 5
abundance of contradictory examples from the Romanesque period to the primitiveness of earlier
Medieval peoples and their architectural techniques (and he believes that the development of
better precipitation-handling techniques in later periods was a result of innovative adaptations
that architects from previous eras would have found useful had they been available). While
innovation and aesthetics likely did have a substantial role in the changes that took place
between the Romanesque and Gothic era, Medieval Europeans, as long term inhabitants of their
environment, would have been well adapted to their climate during the Romanesque as in the
Gothic period (and would have built shelters adequate to the prevailing climate of their time in
each period). Wachs made a fundamental error by assuming that the climate of northern and
southern Europe has remained exactly the same in the last two thousand years, when in reality
scientific evidence indicates that it oscillated quite dramatically during the heart of the Middle
Ages and during the architectural transition from Romanesque to Gothic.
This study, while elaborating on many ideas already established by Wachs, attempts to
provide a more holistic climate-oriented interpretation of Medieval architecture, in particular
focusing on the changes that took place in the construction techniques of sacred churches and
cathedrals surviving from the Romanesque and Gothic architectural periods (an era stretching
across nearly 600 years of European history from 950 A.D. to 1550 A.D) and associating them
with adaptations to the climate transition also seen during this epoch. In particular, this research
attempts to associate architectural features and innovations throughout the Medieval period as
potentially climate-related adaptations (rather than random or delayed innovations). Churches are
particularly useful in demonstrating this trend because they are the most complete structures to
survive from the Medieval period, and additionally, they represent construction efforts that
Medieval peoples put the greatest pride, care, and money into building. Thus, an analysis of
Simmons 6
elements surviving on the exterior and interior of churches—including roofs, paintings,
sculpture, windows, domes, spires, and gargoyles—can occasionally provide a valuable
illustration of changing climactic patterns. In this research, the primary evidence for these
observed trends was provided by an extensive analysis of hundreds of churches across the
European landscape surviving from the Medieval period.
However, as in all art, nothing is universal in Medieval architecture. While many
examples may appear to illustrate one tendency, a few, rarer churches may provide a completely
different interpretation. This method of interpretation is also complicated by the fact that not all
churches were perfectly built for the climactic conditions of their own time, and some features
probably served as aesthetic devices (or adjustments to other factors, such as the type of building
material available) rather than climactic adaptations. Also, different features built on the same
church from the same general time period might appear to tell different stories. In addition, few
records from the largely anonymous architects of the Medieval period survive, and thus it
remains impossible in the end to understand their true motivations (and indeed, some architects
may not have been completely conscious of the adaptive strategy they were employing). Thus,
this paper provides a possible interpretation of climate change through the lens of sacred
architecture, and as such, it presents ways in which various architectural features either indirectly
or directly serve as climate adaptations (whether they were consciously constructed as an
adaptation or not). But beyond the apparent trends seen in the majority of surviving architectural
examples (and records of preexisting church features), little other evidence is available to
confirm that architectural changes are directly influenced or caused by climate changes.
However, despite these limitations in approach, in many if not most cases the surviving
architectural and archaeological evidence in various regions of Europe fit strikingly well within
Simmons 7
the climactic transition framework of the Middle Ages, and perhaps vice versa the surviving
Medieval sacred architecture of Europe can be used to provide clues about the climates of the
past. Therefore, this study attempts to provide illustrations of how climate may have influenced
architectural features during the Middle Ages.
A Brief Summary of the Climate of the Middle Ages
A variety of scientific techniques have already been implemented in an attempt to
understand the climates of the past. Some of the best indicators are provided by tree rings, ice
cores, historical records, phenological (wine record) data, radiocarbon dating of organic material
crushed by expanding glaciers, and fluctuating grain prices, and although these methods
occasionally provide conflicting results for small periods of time, a broader consensus is
obtainable concerning the climates of various periods in history. For example, a generalized
Medieval Warm Period can be distinguished in most data methods, which stretched generally
from 800 AD to 1200 A.D. but was perhaps most pronounced in the Central Middle Ages (1000
to 1140 A.D.) (Fagan 19). This era of European history was marked by a strong westerly flow
(pushing the Atlantic ridge across Europe) which, along with increased sunspots and low
volcanic activity levels, likely provided mild temperatures and dry weather (Ladurie 255).
Extraction of the Oxygen-18 compound (O-18) from ice cap layers in Greenland, which can be
used to find average temperatures (high levels of O-18 indicate warmer temperatures), suggests
that the period from 800 to 1200 A.D. was consistently warm in North America and Europe, with
the greatest peaks in O-18 levels occurring between 950 and 1170, as Figure 1.1 above
illustrates. Correspondingly, remaining organic material near Hudson Bay indicates that between
880 A.D. and 1140 A.D. the forest limit in North America stretched several hundred miles to the
Simmons 8
north than it does today (257). However, these estimations may not provide a completely
adequate representation of European climates given errors and inconsistencies in the formula for
ice core data and their observation location several thousand miles away from Western Europe
(260). Tree ring samples provide a more regional scale picture of climate trends; Carbon-14 (C-
14) concentrations, for example, generally decrease when solar radiation is high (and are high for
when clouds, rain, and particulate matter block radiation) (263). Data obtained from tree rings,
appearing in Figure 2, seems to indicate a marked minimum in the Twelfth Century (associated
with greater radiation and warmer temperatures) and an increasing trend again beginning in the
early-mid Thirteenth century (associated with cooling temperatures).
Figure 1.1: Oxygen-18 composition for yearly layers in an ice core extracted from Camp Century, Greenland
Figure 1.2: Carbon-14 composition in tree rings
Other archaeological and cultural methods similarly suggests a warmer climate in Europe
during the Eleventh and Twelfth centuries; for example, the dominance of the Viking culture,
while perhaps most closely linked to cultural, political, and military factors in Europe, might also
provide important clues about the European climate of the Central Middle Ages (Fagan 62).
Simmons 9
Vikings maintained a colonial empire during the Eleventh Century, sailing across the northern
seas near Iceland and Greenland while avoiding major sea ice. This, however, was not the case in
the Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries, as noted directly by an observer—Priest Ivar Baardson
of Norway—who indicated that the old routes to the Viking colonies had become blocked with
ice and were more dangerous (Ladurie 235, Fagan 49). However, increasing gales and ice over
the north seas had become a significant problem as early as 1250 (Fagan 62). Because Viking
boats were constructed in a manner that was relatively incapable of dealing with icepack on the
waters, the fact that they were able to traverse so much of the subpolar north in the 1000s and
1100s appears to indicate that warmer climactic conditions prevailed during this time in the
northern seas from Scandinavia to Greenland to North America (Ladurie 261). The jet stream
was also likely much further north than its average 56-60° latitude (N) position over Western
Europe, providing more rain to central Scandinavia and parts of Scotland while keeping much of
northern and central Europe in the warmer, drier high pressure of the Atlantic ridge (300). In
fact, the average temperature of the Medieval Warm Period was likely 1°C to 1.3°C warmer than
in the following centuries (254-255).
In addition, archived records also provide important indications of the warm and dry
nature of the European climate during the Central Middle Ages. For example, according to
Boulainvilliers, a Seventeenth century recordkeeper, the Sarthe River in France dried up three
times during the Medieval Warm Period (twice during the 800s and once in 1168) (256). This
dry trend is also reflected in organic evidence: strata samples in German bogs indicate that peat
levels were particularly low between 800 and 1200 A.D (256). Also, the dry weather allowed for
an increased likelihood of locust outbreaks, which were particularly severe in 873 and 1195 and
resulted in famine (257). Thus, the average climate during the Central Middle Ages appeared to
Simmons 10
be both warm and dry, dominated by the subtropical high ridge and similar to a Mediterranean
climate. The warm weather proved beneficial for wine grapes, and natural wine production
extended all the way into England (whereas today the viticulture limit is located on the northern
border of Champagne in France) (Fagan 2). Similarly, the dry, hot summers proved particularly
beneficial for cereals (the predominant agricultural staple in the diet of Medieval peoples), and
the population throughout Europe grew steadily during the Medieval period as more and more
land came under cultivation and inefficient Medieval agricultural practices naturally maintained
abundant harvests (Ladurie 258, 290). The population growth of the Medieval Warm Period also
provided a larger nonagricultural workforce and this fact, along with the additional wealth and
stability associated with agricultural success, allowed for the construction of a proliferation of
larger and more elaborate churches (Fagan 19). These churches, partially the product of a
favorable climate and also partially reflective of it, are analyzed closely in this study. In
particular, this research details the specific architectural features associated with these Eleventh
and Twelfth Century churches and how they reflect the warmer, drier, sunnier climate of the
Medieval Warm Period.
However, by the Thirteenth century, the Mediterranean-like climate of the previous two
to three hundred years was coming to an end, especially in northwestern Europe, and this is also
suggested by traditional climate-determining methods. By 1215, glaciers began to advance in the
Alps (after glacial retreat had been observed since 750 A.D.), some growing enough to crush
some Medieval mountain villages in the following centuries (Ladurie 250, 264). Ice core O-18
levels, visible in Figure 1.1, also appear to indicate a strong plummet in average temperatures
beginning in the late Twelfth Century and continuing into the Thirteenth Century (with O-18
levels remaining well below that of the Medieval Warm Period thereafter). Unfortunately, tree
Simmons 11
ring data does not correlate directly with the ice core data, but it also indicates an increase in C-
14 levels beginning in the Thirteenth Century. Thus, temperatures appeared to be getting cooler
across Europe, and the 1200s generally marks the transition from the Medieval Warm Period to
the Little Ice Age.
After nearly one hundred years of slow climactic decline, the transition to the Little Ice
Age was completed dramatically in the early Fourteenth Century in the form of rapid oscillations
in the mean jet pattern and semipermanent weather systems, known as the North Atlantic
Oscillation (NAO), in which the perpetually mild warm weather of the Medieval Warm Period
(consistent positive NAO) was interrupted by colder weather and large amounts of precipitation
(usually a negative NAO or transition to a negative NAO—when more precipitation shifts
southward over continental Europe) (Fagan 29). The unstable jet pattern, cooler temperatures,
and extensive rains led to the Great Famine, one of the most significant long-term food shortages
in European history. Fields were flooded in the spring and summer of 1315, followed by colder
temperatures that provided for a poor harvest. The flooding rains continued through 1320 in
many parts of Europe, providing for cooler temperatures (through evaporative cooling), a
shortening of the growing season, and very poor conditions for cereal crops (Jordan 17). An
increasing number of devastating windstorms in northern Europe (Normandy and England) were
also particularly harmful to agricultural production, and the freezing of the Baltic Sea during the
cold winters (the first time since the turn of the millennium) limited trade and the transportation
of food to some areas (18-19). Then, following this ‘Great Deluge,’ the years from 1320 to 1324
were characterized by an extreme drought (17). This precipitation pattern was not only
significantly discussed in archived records from the time but has also been demonstrated by
Mary Lyons in her analysis of oak tree ring growth in Ireland (17-18). She demonstrates that
Simmons 12
growth rates (highest in rainy conditions) were 7-10% above normal for most years between
1315 and 1318 and were as much as 10-22% below normal in the years from 1320 to 1324 (17).
These weather extremes, flooding rains followed by drought and accompanying some of the
coolest conditions ever seen (which stretched across the winters of 1310-1330), created extreme
agricultural instability that created the famine and resulted in a rapid increase in grain prices, in
Winchester, England (Jordan 17-18, Postan 103)
However, these climactically unstable conditions were not experienced by all of Europe.
Northern Europe, including the British Isles, northern France, and Germany were most affected,
whereas most of the Mediterranean basin escaped famine, not experiencing the same climactic
seesaw pattern as the north (Jordan 8). Unfortunately, due to the predominantly stable and
“gentle” weather pattern of the Medieval Warm Period, northern Europeans were unprepared to
deal with the disastrous consequences of this climactic shift (16-17). To make matters worse,
leftover grain or grains that did survive through the harvest period often rotted in the wet
conditions, not adequately protected by storage structures built during the warm, dry weather of
the centuries before (24). Several million people are believed to have died in the famine, which
caused the population growth rate, which had been high in the previous centuries, to approach
zero (10). Similarly, the Black Death, which wiped out an even larger proportion of Europe’s
population during the mid-1300s (estimated at approximately one-third of Europe’s total
population), also might have been edged on by the prevailing climactic conditions in the early
Little Ice Age. In particular, a drought in western China and wet and cool (but not freezing)
conditions in Europe (along with Pax Mongolia which allowed trade routes across Asia to
flourish under stable political conditions) allowed the Plague to thrive in Europe (Zophy 32).
Simmons 13
The agricultural instability during parts of the Little Ice Age also likely affected
pilgrimage traffic and church and cathedral construction, both of which were interrelated for high
pilgrimage traffic regions. During both the Great Famine and the Black Death, church
construction slowed or ground largely to a halt in many places, and this is especially true in
England (Architecture of Medieval Britain). A case study conducted by this author that surveyed
all major English cathedrals (to be discussed in another work at a later date) indicated that
construction projects were most frequent during the Norman era (the Medieval Warm Period),
whereas new work on cathedrals dropped off rapidly during the early and mid 1300s and many
ongoing projects were delayed or completed at much slower rates than during the Norman and
Early/Decorated Gothic periods. Also, churches must have needed to respond to the wetter
conditions by providing better architectural innovations that would handle larger amounts of rain
and snow, and building structural changes during the climactic transition period from 1200 to
1500 are the focus of the next two chapters.
In general, the conditions of the Little Ice Age, although not providing as severe of
weather fluctuations as during the Great Famine, extended into the Renaissance and beyond, not
ending until the Modern Warm Era began in the Nineteenth century. Figures 1.1 and 1.2 both
demonstrate this cooler trend extending through the modern period. In particular, Figure 1.2
shows two important minima in temperatures and a maximum in precipitation--Sporer minimum
of the Sixteenth century and the Maunder Minimum of the late Seventeenth century. These two
epochs, as well as the Little Ice Age in general, were characterized by colder, wetter conditions
over northern Europe, accompanied by a lack of sunspot (solar) activity and auroral reports
(which were both extensively documented by Early Modern scientists) (Parker 272-275).
Temperatures are estimated to have been 1° C cooler than average, and winters might have been
Simmons 14
several degrees Celsius below the current mean (Ladurie 244). In addition, the jet stream position
likely shifted to an average position 1° latitude to the south (56-60°N) of its current mean
position of 57-60°N (300). This would cause the jet to shift closer to continental Europe, with
oscillations in the jet stream more likely to reach further south over Europe than in the previous
Medieval Warm Period. Thus, it makes sense that northern and central Europe would be the
regions where the most architectural changes related to climate transition would occur, and
building style modifications that took place in the north (contrasted with changes or a lack of
change in the south) are the focus of this study.
Exterior Features and Decoration
Perhaps the most important climate-determining architectural elements associated with
sacred structures built during the Medieval period are located on church exteriors. This is
especially likely given the obvious fact that features placed on the outside of churches or
cathedrals are most heavily exposed to the weather. In particular, these external support
structures, such as roofs, buttresses, and portals, were entrusted to maintain the stability of the
sacred structure for essentially hundreds of years, keeping rain and snow out and maintaining the
inner peace of the temple to God (which served as a mansion and sanctuary to all people, rich
and poor). Thus, church architects applied their greatest attention and labor to the construction
the sacred structures that they built, and the high innovative adaptability of these designers and
stone masons to respond to needs associated with the weather, along with the great technical skill
with which solutions were devised, likely at least partly accounts for the survival and
prominence of Medieval churches and cathedrals across much of Europe even today. Therefore,
an analysis of the changes in exterior features protecting Medieval churches, such as roof
inclination and tile types, drainage systems, and buttresses, likely provide some of the best
Simmons 15
architectural indicators of the climate transition that occurred during the High Middle Ages.
Indeed, many of these shelter-related transformations might, upon a close and detailed analysis
of changes to church structure in a given region over time, reveal smaller climate shifts and
weather patterns that are undetectable by the limited variations in ice core data (usually located
relatively far away from the region in question) or poorly estimated weather indicators associated
with tree rings (due to vegetative trauma lag time). Thus, by analyzing the changes seen in
external features on church and cathedral facades that might be linked to climate transformations,
more information about the weather and climate of the Medieval period might be derived.
Additionally, broader trends in architecture might, in the future, be better correlated to the data
provided by the scientific measure associated with ice cores, tree rings, organic material carbon
dating, and other methods.
Roof Inclination
Of all of the exterior features placed on a building, the roof structure is probably one of
the most important determiners of climate and climate change. Roofs serve to protect church or
cathedral interiors from rain and snow as well as keep internal vaulting (if it exists within a
church) stable and dry. With increasing rainfall and snow rates associated with climate change in
the High Medieval period, it stands to reason that roofs also had to change to respond to the
increasing pressure and deteriorating effects of this added precipitation. One of the most practical
changes implemented, according to William Wachs, was an increase in roof inclination, which
served to accelerate rain and snow down to the ground. With a steeper roof in place, both liquid
and freezing precipitation would have been less likely accumulate on the roof, gradually seep
into the interior, and cause extensive structural damage.
Simmons 16
Wachs thus argues that northern churches and cathedrals, closer to the active weather of
the polar jet, had to promote a steep roof inclination, while southern cathedrals maintained the
same kinds of low angle roof structures that had been standard in the Mediterranean since
Classical Antiquity (as is evidenced by the low roof inclinations of Greek temples—Parthenon
13.7° and the Temple of Neptune at Paestum—17.6°) (Wachs 84). On average, Wachs finds that
High and Late Medieval southern churches maintain a roof inclination of 14° to 30°, sometimes
reaching as high as 45° with flat tile slates, whereas northern cathedrals maintain roof structures
with inclinations from 30° to 70° (89). Wachs also notes that transalpine Northern Italy acts as a
transition zone between the two regions, maintaining roof angles closer to 30° to 40° (84). In the
far north, such as the Alpine regions, Scandinavia, and Russia, roof inclination became the
primary architectural consideration due to heavy wet snowfall in these regions, and many
churches often adopted the needle spire to ensure that their roofs did not collapse underneath the
pressure of heavy snow (88). However, as a counterargument, some high elevation locations,
such as Splugen, Switzerland, maintained lower roof angles due to the prevalence of lighter and
drier snow that acts as an insulator for the church interior without significantly weighing down
the roof structure (104-105). Thus, during the Gothic period Europe appears to have maintained
large regional variations in roof inclinations based largely on climate differences.
However, northern churches and cathedrals have not maintained steep roof inclinations
throughout their entire histories. In fact, Romanesque cathedrals in both the north and south
maintained relatively low roof inclinations between 20° and 45° (100). Where Romanesque was
maintained as the dominant style in Italy and southern France, a variety of examples of low
inclination Romanesque roof angles survive, including the in the churches of St. Sernin in
Toulouse (Figure 2.1), St. Trophime in Arles (Figure 2.2), St-Foy in Conques (France) (Figure
Simmons 17
2.3), St. Vincente in Avila (Spain) (Figure 2.4), Santo Domingo in Soria (Spain) (Figure 2.5),
and the nearly flat-topped roofs of the cathedrals of Coimbra (Figure 2.6) and Evora (Figure 2.7)
in Portugal. While few original Romanesque roofing structures have survived unmodified in the
north, the low roof angles are still visibly apparent in the nearly flat-roofed chevet of St-Etienne
in Vignory (Burgundy, north central France) (Figure 2.8). Other examples can be seen in the
choir roof of the Romanesque church in Mareuil (Normandy) (Figure 2.9) and the low sloping
roofs of country churches of Liverdun (Figure 2.10) and St. Mammes (Figure 2.11) in Ile de
France, Epfig (Figure 2.12) in Alsace, Guer (Figure 2.13) in Britanny-Vendee, and Fixey (Figure
2.14) near Dijon.
Similarly, Romanesque churches in Cologne dating from the Central Middle Ages, such
as St. Maria in Capitol (Figure 2.15), St. Andreas (Figure 2.16), and St. Pantaleon (Figure 2.17),
show the same tendency for low inclination roofs. The nearby High Romanesque Trier Cathedral
(Figure 2.18) (built in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries) also maintains a particularly low
rooftop and provides a classic example of the low inclination structures seen on churches during
the Central Middle Ages (Prache 82). Further north, churches were more likely to have a central
tower and a larger roof inclination; for example, the Église St-Pierre of Touques (Figure 2.19) in
Normandy maintains a roof inclination closer to the maximum slope seen in the Romanesque
style, 45° (although much lower than most Gothic cathedrals and church roofs). In the German
Romanesque Churches of Cologne, like St. Pantaleon (Figure 2.20), central towers with steeper
roof inclinations (compared to southern Europe) were also used.
In England, church roof inclinations often followed the steeper Norman pattern
established in northern France. For example, Kilpeck church (Figure 2.21) in England has a
relatively steep roof over its nave (although also possesses a fairly shallow roof inclination over
Simmons 18
its choir). Of all the Norman churches, southern English churches (and northern French
churches) were more likely to possess a shallow roof inclination, such as the (approximately) 30°
roof structure at the priory church at Isleham, Cambridgeshire (Figure 2.22) (built in the 1100s
and influenced by Breton structures in northern France) (Platt 15). The chapel of Colchester
Castle (Figure 2.23), built in the late Eleventh Century, also possesses a particularly flat roof (9).
In northern England, church roof inclinations often a bit steeper but also relatively moderate,
such as seen in the nearly 45° roof angles of Fontaines Abbey (Figure 2.24) and the priory
church of Escomb in Durham county (Figure 2.25). Similarly, in Scotland church roof
inclinations were generally much larger than those of southern Europe, sometimes approaching
Gothic-style inclinations (such as in the church of St. Athernase in Leuchars (Figure 2.26)),
although often they were still lower than later roof inclinations. The church of Dalmeny (Figure
2.27) in Scotland, however, demonstrates a relatively modest roof angle more typical of other
Norman churches and the northern Romanesque style. Also, one of the best contrasts in roof
inclinations can be seen in the Temple Church (Figure 2.28) in London when comparing the
steep Gothic roof inclination of the Temple Church in London with its Norman rotunda, which
has a nearly flat roof.
The transition from low to steep roof inclinations, like all architectural innovations and
the climate change that accompanied them, was very gradual. In addition, other factors also
affected changes in roof inclination. For example, the great forest clearing campaigns of the
Carolingian periods and central Middle Ages, which brought more and more land under
cultivation, limited that amount of available large timbers required in the construction of low
inclination roofs (Wachs 89-90). Additionally, war and the construction of palisades and
bulwarks also depleted many thick timbers (Panofsky 95). Therefore, with only lighter timbers
Simmons 19
readily available, roofs also had to be made lighter, and the construction of high inclination roofs
allowed rafter thickness and width to decrease (thus allowing the use of lighter timbers in roof
construction that were more readily available and less expensive) (Wachs 90). Even Abbe Suger,
who commissioned the construction of the first gothic structure—the Basilique de St. Denis—in
the early-mid 1100s, explicitly indicates that, when trying to reconstruct the Basilique de St.
Denis, he was told by Parisian merchants that thick wooden beams could not be found in the
region “owing to lack of woods” (Panofsky 95). Abbe Suger apparently searched the forests for
these wooden beams himself and declared it a miracle, and a sign of God’s favor toward his
construction project, that he found a relatively abundant supply of large timbers. He then stated
that “when they had been carried to the sacred basilica, we had them placed, with exultation,
upon the ceiling of the new structure” (97). Abbe Suger also noted the “[great] length and width
of the new church”; and his use of thick timbers over a “wide” ceiling opening suggest that he
was constructing a low inclination roof, similar to other Romanesque churches that possess low
inclination roofs and require heavy beams (97). Correspondingly, the church of St. Martin des
Champs (Figure 2.29) in Paris, dating from the Romanesque-Gothic transition of the late 1130s,
also possesses a low roof inclination angle more characteristic of the Romanesque roofing style
of the Ile de France region. Likewise, the mixed Gothic-Romanesque church of St. Julien-le-
Pauvre (Figures 2.30-2.31), also in Paris, possesses a low roof angle characteristic of the
Romanesque style. Therefore, roof inclinations, even during the Early Gothic period, appear to
be relatively low, and this fact in turn indicates that abundant rainfall and snowfall was not likely
a major consideration in the construction of the roof of the Basilique de St. Denis and other
churches in the Parisian basin in the mid Twelfth Century.
Simmons 20
However, at the end of the Twelfth century and the beginning of the Thirteenth century,
roof inclination increased markedly in both France and England. Senlis Cathedral (Figure 2.32)
provides a remarkable transition example between the low inclination roofs of early Gothic
churches and the high inclination roofs of later Gothic structures. As Figure 2.32 indicates, roof
inclination began to exceed 45°, although remnants of the old Romanesque style low inclination
roof structure can be seen on roofs provided to the apsidial chapels. In the late 1100s and 1200s,
Notre Dame de Paris was provided with a similarly steeper roof structure (but lacked any low
roof structures), and in also in the Thirteenth centuries Chartres (Figure 2.33), Amiens, and
Reims were provided with roof structures that exceeded 60° inclination. Thus, by the Rayonnant
Gothic period of the 1200s, roof structures of cathedrals in northern France had increased
dramatically, perhaps in part to account for changes in prevailing weather patterns as the polar jet
slowly shifted southward (and trough oscillations in the polar jet would have been more likely to
reach northern France than during the Medieval Warm Period). Roof inclination angle increases
can also be observed in Germany’s Thirteenth Century Late Romanesque style, where the
rooftops of the churches of St. Aposteln (Figure 2.34), St. Kunibert (Figure 2.35), and St. Maria
in Lyskirchen (Figure 2.36) are remarkably steeper than earlier Romanesque churches (Santa
Maria in Capitol and St. Andreas) in the city. Similarly, some English Norman churches, such as
St. Albans Cathedral, were reworked and provided with a steeper roof during the Gothic era
(Pevsner 200).
In addition, this high inclination roof structure remained prominent in the north and even
moved southward with time, even becoming more prevalent in locations such as Barcelona,
Perpigan, and Milan (Wachs 106). The steep roof of St. Stephen’s Cathedral (Figure 2.37) in
Vienna, Austria also illustrates the importance of high inclination rooftops during the Late
Simmons 21
Gothic age in the north. In general, the Gothic style itself is associated with an average roof
inclination of 55° to 65°, much steeper than Romanesque churches, with the greatest inclinations
reached by the Fourteenth century (89, 100).
Most southern Gothic cathedrals, on the other hand, were built with the same low roof
inclinations that had been standard in the Mediterranean during the Classical and Romanesque
architectural periods. An abundance of examples illustrate this trend, although perhaps the most
obvious are the cathedrals of Florence (Figure 2.38) and Orvieto (Figure 2.39) in Italy. In
southern France, the same general trend can be observed, indicated by the very low roof
inclination (below 30 degrees) in Narbonne, France (constructed late 1200s and early 1300s, well
after roof inclinations had become steeper in the north) (Figure 2.40) (Prache 185). Similarly,
Albi (Figure 2.41) (which was built from the late 1200s to the 1400s) maintains an almost
entirely flat roof (238). This makes sense, as these areas would have been less likely to see fast
climactic changes during the early Little Ice Age due to their location adjacent to the
Mediterranean Sea. The latitudinal differences in roof inclination seem to confirm climate-
related changes in roof slope from north to south, and the increase in roof inclination in a given
region (especially along the climate transition zone) may prove important in determining both
the type of climate experienced at a given time and the regional climactic shifts that occurred
through the Medieval period.
With the advancement of the Little Ice Age in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries, one
might expect all roof angles to become steeper with the presence of more rainfall and
snowstorms. However, in England this does not necessarily appear to be the case, as the low
inclination roof angle of the King’s College Chapel (Figure 2.42) in Cambridge (comparable to
other perpendicular roofs) illustrates. Similarly, flat topped towers once again became a standard
Simmons 22
feature of the English countryside during the Perpendicular Gothic period, which makes little
architectural sense given the clear Gothic transition from low pyramidal towers to steep spires
(and the collapse of low inclination towers in Troyes in the late Fourteenth Century under the
influence of rain and frost). These trends may be primarily associated with changes in aesthetic
tastes, as are the later use of neoclassical Mediterranean temple-like structures in building
designs constructed by Inigo Jones, Christopher Wren, and others following the Renaissance.
Another potential reason for the lower roof angle in England might be the use of lead slates to
cover the roof, which can be supported at relatively high angles but tend to creep at extremely
high inclinations (104). In addition, the sturdier roof, better drainage systems, and the prolific use
of gargoyles might justify the flat roofed towers of the Gothic age, such as the Tour St. Jacques
(Figure 2.43) and the Tour St. Germain l’Auxerrois (Figure 2.44) in Paris. However, from a
climatological perspective, the introduction of Perpendicular Gothic might reflect the movement
of the mean jet stream position to the south of England during this period, which would have
provided cold but also drier conditions. Cloud cover would have still been relatively frequent but
precipitation not as consistent as earlier, allowing for a moderation in window sizes in cathedrals
(windows often remained large but were also flattened). A similar pattern of cool, dry conditions
during the Little Ice Age were experienced in England during the 1320s (associated with a
drought during the Great Famine) and also in 1666 during the Great Fire of London. In both
instances, the mean position of the jet shifted south over the continent, providing a prolonged
drought that, in the latter case, fueled the flames that burned down the Medieval core of London.
Another possibility is that conditions became milder before the Sporer minimum, as this period
in architectural history is marked by very slight glacial retreat in the Alps (from 1350 to 1550)
(Ladurie 264). Thus, with periods of decreased rain and drought conditions reestablished during
Simmons 23
parts of the late Middle Ages and Renaissance periods, a lower inclination angle roof would be
an appropriate adaptation to prevailing weather conditions over parts of northern Europe.
Spires Since the Carolingian Era
In addition, an analysis of spires roof structures can also provide important clues about
the position of the jet stream and nature of climate change in a given area. Steep spires serve to
dispel rain and snow efficiently, whereas towers with low roof inclinations (such as Italian
campaniles) are more likely to be degraded by the influence of precipitation (Wachs 117). One
must be careful, however, when analyzing the spire for climactic purposes, as they are also an
architectural feature with important metaphysical connotations (117). For example, Gothic spires
are often compared to fingers pointing to the heavens, the dwelling place of God, and such
sentiments may have coaxed the construction of steeper spires for nonclimactic reasons.
However, despite this limitation, a pattern does appear to emerge when analyzing the evolution
of the tower spire through the Middle Ages.
Most medieval spires likely descend from those known to have existed during
Carolingian and Ottonian Era, appearing as early as 800 A.D. on the Abbey of St. Riquier, which
is known to us from a copy of a Medieval drawing (Figure 2.45). These particular spires are
quite steep and vertical, similar to Gothic spires and very unlike Romanesque towers. This may
be partly related to the fact that the Carolingian and Ottonian periods stretched across the climate
transition associated with the beginning of the Medieval Warm Period, and tree and ice core
evidence suggests that temperatures were likely somewhat colder (and rain probably more
prevalent) between 800 and 900 A.D. than the centuries thereafter. Thus, with a mean jet
displaced further to the south than during the Medieval Warm Period, vertical spires would have
been needed in Central and Western Europe to provide better protection from the rain and snow.
Simmons 24
The abbey also appears to have a relatively high inclination roof over the nave; however, the
drawing also shows some elements of low roof inclination over the aisles of the church, which
might suggest that it was built in a period of aesthetic or climactic transition.
An analysis of Carolingian roof structures (and later reconstructions) also indicates that
Carolingian churches and cathedrals in the north were likely set at higher inclination angles
(despite the abundance of heavy timbers during this period, which was contemporary to the great
land clearing, that would have supported the development of low inclination roofs). For example,
the west front of St. Michael’s in Corvey (located in west central Germany) (Figure 2.46) has a
abruptly steep roof reminiscent of those associated with the Gothic style, and it also possesses
two vertical spires, required by the thinness of the Carolingian masonry below, that strongly
contrasts to most others from the Romanesque period during this time period (in addition, this
façade maintains as many windows as possible, indicative of the need for additional light).
Similarly, Lorsch Abbey and its gateway, the Torhalle (Figure 2.47), also have particularly steep
roofs not often seen in the following two centuries. Other examples of steep-roofed Carolingian
and Ottonian buildings can be found in the churches of St. Justinius in Frankfurt-Höchst, St.
Michael in Fulda (central Germany) (Figure 2.48), and St. George in Reichenau (southern
Germany). Also, in Steinbach (east central Germany), Einhard’s Basilica (Figure 2.49) possesses
a roof inclination that appears more similar to those seen in England and Scotland during the
Romanesque period. Steep towers were also a prominent component well into the Ottonian
period as well, as Mainz’s high inclination spires (Figure 2.50)—inspired by Ottonian
architecture—illustrates (Prache 53). However, further to the south, Carolingian architecture has
much lower roof angles and appears similar to Romanesque roof inclinations, as demonstrated by
the church of Santa Maria de Naraneo in Orviedo (Figure 2.51), Spain (848 A.D.) (Jansen 261).
Simmons 25
Therefore, steep spires and high roof inclination angles in northern Europe during the last
centuries of the first millennium A.D. may demonstrate the need for greater roof verticality
during this era associated with prevailing cooler climactic conditions.
During the Romanesque era, however, such great verticality is rarely seen in spires or in
roofs in both the north and south (Wachs 117). In fact, most ‘spires’ from this era are, in reality,
towers with flat rooftops or topped with low pyramidal designs (119). Because these inclinations
were not particularly efficient in minimizing the deleterious effects of precipitation, it is highly
likely that many northern and southern towers, unlike their Carolingian counterparts, were built
without rain and snow being a primary concern. Examples of these low-topped buildings can be
seen in the Romanesque and Early Gothic towers of Vezelay (Burgundy, north central France).
Similar northern European examples of low rooftop towers can be seen in the examples of Guer,
Brion, and St. Mammes churches in France and the flat-roofed tower of Dalmeny in Scotland.
Other prominent low inclination towers can be seen in churches built further to the south, such as
San Martin in Fromista (Figure 2.52) (northern Spain), St. Trophime in Arles (Provence,
southern France), St. Vincenc in Cardona (Spain), and St. Clement (Taull, northeast Spain). In
Italy, the primary tower associated with a church or cathedral was often the campanile (bell
tower), and in most cases (except in parts of northern Italy, discussed below) these structures
maintained a low inclination ceiling. For example, the Campanile of Pisa (Figure 2.53) and the
Romanesque campaniles of Rome (for example, the bell tower of Santa Pudenziana in Figure
2.54) all possess these characteristically flat rooftops.
Despite the presence of low inclination rooftops in most of Europe during the Medieval
Warm Period, regional and temporal variations also existed. For example, northern churches
were more likely to possess steeper spires than southern churches. Some churches in Ile de
Simmons 26
France and Normandy, for example, maintained pyramidal tower roofs that reached
approximately 40° to 50° inclinations. In addition, some churches located in Normandy, such as
St. Georges in St. Martin-de-Boscherville (Figure 2.55), possessed spires with even higher
inclinations that rival Carolingian towers in their verticality. Although St. George’s central tower
is wider and does not maintain the marked steepness as Gothic spires such as those at Chartres
seen in the century following its construction, it contrasts markedly with the low roofed central
towers seen in central and southern France and Spain (for example, the central tower of Sant
Ponç in Cobera in northern Spain (Figure 2.56)). Further south in western and central France (or
in some northern locations—such as Cologne, Germany--during the heart of the Medieval Warm
Period) the less severe, cone-shaped turret slowly became a prominent rooftop feature for some
church towers. These are exemplified by the spires on the west façade of Notre Dame le Grande
in Poiters (west central France), St. Pierre in Angouleme (west central France), and St. Pantaleon
in Cologne, Germany (late Tenth Century). These are much shallower and lower in inclination
than their Carolingian and Ottonian predecessors but steeper than the tower tops of Italy and
other parts of the Mediterranean Basin.
Changes in tower structure over time can also be relatively easily demonstrated by
contrasting towers of Early Romanesque and Late Romanesque/mixed Gothic-Romanesque
churches. For example, churches in Cologne built in the late Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth
centuries were more likely to posses flatter rooftops and low to moderate inclination tower tops,
exemplified by St. Maria in Capitol and St. Gereon (Figure 5.57). However, in the Thirteenth
Century, churches (for example, St. Martin (Figure 5.58) and St. Severin (Figure 5.59) in
Cologne) were more likely to have steeper spires than those built primarily in the Eleventh and
Simmons 27
Twelfth centuries, perhaps due to the onset of climate transition before the conversion from
Romanesque to Gothic in this region.
In addition, another possible indication of climate change is visible in the brief
continuation or revival of the Ottonian-style architecture in German churches during the early
1200s after two centuries of a prominent low roof inclination Romanesque tradition. This is
perhaps best represented by Bamberg Cathedral (Figure 5.60) (built in 1201 to 1237), which is
heavily inspired by Ottonian style and is flanked by steep towers (similar to those at Corvey and
St. Riquier) as well as a strongly vertical roof (approximately 40-50° inclination) (Prache 197).
The climate of this era of transition was likely closer to that of the Ottonian period than the
Romanesque, and German architects having to deal with somewhat greater precipitation
frequency, cooler weather, and more snow perhaps reverted back to Ottonian style (which had
already solved the problem faced by architects during a climate transition period) likely still
readily visible in other churches from the Early Medieval period surviving in the region in the
1200s. Thus, the evolution of German Carolingian, Ottonian, and Romanesque styles provides a
prominent example of how architects provided high roof and spire inclinations to churches in
Early Middle Ages, decreased them in the Romanesque style of the Medieval Warm Period, and
increased them again during the Late German Romanesque period of the Thirteenth century, a
process which might be connected the precipitation and other climate changes prevalent during
this period.
A further analysis of the towers and spires associated with Early Gothic architecture in
Late Twelfth and Thirteenth century England and France reveals that this period was a time of
tower rooftop transition. For example, the west front towers of Wells Cathedral in England, as
well as those on the French cathedrals of Notre Dame de Paris, Laon, Amiens, and Reims, all
Simmons 28
possessed relatively flat roofed towers. The central crossing towers of Notre Dame de Paris and
Sainte Chapelle (also dating from the 1200s), on the other hand, are more characteristic steep
Gothic spires. Chartres appears to be in the forefront, possessing a dramatically vertical early
Gothic spire on its west façade. North of Ile de France, Coutances Cathedral (completed in 1250)
has front spires that outstrip those seen elsewhere in France, likely due to the Norman experience
with spires extending back to the Romanesque era (St. Georges in St. Martin-de-Boscherville),
which in and of itself may be related to the cooler climate of this northernmost region of France
(Swaan 289). Similarly, lower inclination Romanesque towers on the Cathedral of St-Etienne in
Caen were replaced with dramatically steeper tower spires during the Early Gothic era, as seen in
Figure 5.61 (Janson 281). Further north, England’s Salisbury Cathedral (constructed from 1220
to 1270) appears less confused than French churches in Paris, Laon, Amiens, and Reims, with
very strongly inclined tower tops on both its west front and crossing tower (318).
The use of pinnacles, or small, highly vertical spires, also increased during the Rayonnant
Gothic period, and this new spire adaptation (related to the earlier turret, although much steeper)
likely provided better water shedding on roof and pier support structures. Pinnacles were often
constructed as steep pyramidal structures placed on top of rectangular block towers. The block
towers underneath the pinnacles, however, most often possess a cross sectional area that is
smaller than the base area of the pinnacle (Figure 2.62 shows protective pinnacles on the
buttresses of Beauvais Cathedral). Therefore, pinnacles shed rain outward, away from the
vertical block tower support, and thus keep the main tower sheltered and protected instead of
allowing water to slide down the tower façade and wear away at the stonework. Pinnacle usage
was particularly prominent during the Rayonnant and late Gothic periods, prevalently employed
to protect flying buttresses and their support towers (discussed below), and they also served as a
Simmons 29
primary aesthetic decorative element on church and cathedral facades. Thus, the appearance and
prominence of pinnacle features in the Rayonnent Gothic era and their continued usage in later
styles might also provide some indication of the climate change occurring in the Thirteenth and
Fourteenth centuries.
By the Late Thirteenth and Early Fourteenth centuries, spires generally tended to become
even more vertical, which can be readily seen by contrasting the Early Gothic northern west front
spire of Chartres with its steeper Flamboyant spire on its southern west front tower. In England,
Parrington Church and Warboy’s Church, built around the turn of the Fourteenth century,
demonstrate this greater verticality (Platt 157). The Gothic cathedrals of Ulm, Germany (Figure
2.63) and Strasbourg, France (Figure 2.64), possessing spires built in the late Fourteenth Century
and Fifteenth Century, are also strongly vertical, unlike anything seen in the Romanesque or
Early Gothic periods. Other examples of the general increasing steepness of spires in the Late
Gothic period can be demonstrated over continental Europe in the examples of Rouen Cathedral
(Figure 2.65) (and St. Maclou (Figure 2.66), also in Rouen in Normandy, northern France), St.
Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna, and the spires of late gothic gateways, buildings, and churches in
Prague (Figure 2.67). Many of these later cases have spires that greatly exceed the verticality
seen during the Carolingian and Ottonian periods (accompanied by steep roofs that also
exceeded the high inclinations of the time of King Charlemagne)—perhaps demonstrating, to a
certain extent, the severity of the cooler and rainier climate that took hold in the north during the
Little Ice Age. Additionally, these High and Late Gothic towers contrast even more markedly
with their medium or low inclination Romanesque predecessors (dramatically illustrated by
contrasting the roofs of the tower-like rotunda churches of Prague (Figure 2.68) with the spires
of later Gothic churches). These changes in spire height since the beginning of the Gothic era can
Simmons 30
also be easily seen in the Cathedral of Naumburg (Figure 2.69), where the low inclination towers
built during the Romanesque period contrast strongly with the greater steepness of the towers on
the same church built during the Gothic era (Schmidt-Glassner 11).
Italian campaniles, on the other hand, remained largely the same throughout the High and
Late Middle Ages. For example, Giotto’s Campanile in Florence (Figure 2.70), characteristic of
Italian Gothic bell towers, was constructed in the late Thirteenth and early Fourteenth century,
and it maintains a very low pyramidal roof (almost flat) unlike towers in the north at that time
and similar to towers of the Romanesque era (such as that provided by the example of the
Campanile of Pisa). A few high inclination spires are seen in parts of Italy; for example, Santa
Croce in Florence maintains a single characteristically Gothic spire, as do the duomos of Siena
and Arezzo. However, the use of such spires may be primarily decorative, and they are certainly
not as extensively used on individual churches, nor are they as prevalent in the region as a whole,
as in the north.
A Case Study of Campaniles in Venice
In northern Italy’s transalpine region (where topographical influences and precipitation
are greater), however, the campanile often took on a more terraced appearance (indirectly
providing greater pointed verticality) or maintained a high inclination pyramidal top during the
Gothic era, which might be an indication of climate transition in this region. Variations in
Venetian spires over the centuries from the Medieval warm period provide a particularly good
illustration of these potentially climate-related architectural changes. During the Medieval Warm
Period, the polar jet is believed to have been shifted well to the north of Italy, providing a sunny,
warm, dry Mediterranean climate with only the colder months providing an opportunity for jet
interaction and notable precipitation. However, as the jet stream dived to the south during the
Simmons 31
early Little Ice Age, northern Italy would have been not only first to feel the effects of colder
temperature intrusions but also more likely to receive precipitation from more baroclinic lee
cyclones forming along troughs in the jet near Genoa or over the Adriatic. Colder air would have
also been capable of penetrating the Slovene Pass into the Venetian Gulf, also potentially
providing more freezing precipitation associated with northeasterly winds to this part of Italy.
Thus, the transition of Venice’s climate might have similarly induced changes in
Venetians’ outlook toward architecture which was not seen in other parts of Italy. For example,
Venice was willing to take the Gothic style much more seriously than much of the rest of Italy—
while only one Gothic church exists today among the nearly one thousand churches in Rome,
many of Venice’s churches built during the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries were constructed
in the Gothic style (Macadam Venice 82). One reason for this, of course, is likely due to
influence from the north as an important trading partner and adjacent geographical region;
however, this turns out to be a rather dramatic shift in style considering that Venice’s previous
primary architectural and aesthetic influences came from Byzantium and the Near East (the
importance of these connections can be seen in the Byzantine-styled Basilica of San Marco and
surviving Byzantine paintings, reliefs, and architectural fragments located throughout the city)
(Macadam Venice 53). Thus, other considerations, including climactic ones, likely accelerated
this shift away from Byzantine-Classical influences prevalent in most of Italy to that of the
Gothic north.
Before this architectural change, however, Venetian campaniles looked much like they
did in the rest of Italy and, indeed, most of Europe. Flat roof tops, such as those seen on the
Romanesque campaniles of Sant’Aponal (Figure 2.71), Torcello Cathedral (Figure 2.72), San
Geremia (Figure 2.73), and San Giacomo dell’Orio (Figure 2.74), proved sufficient in the sunny
Simmons 32
Mediterranean conditions. Other Romanesque monuments in northern Italy, such as Milan’s
Chiesa di San Ambrogio, also maintained flat-roofed Romanesque campaniles. In a few areas of
Lombardy, such as at Santa Maria in Pomposa and San Zeno Maggiore in Verona, Romanesque
campaniles were topped with a high inclination pyramid, which may indicate the beginnings of
climate change or mountain-related influences of climactic conditions in this general region, but
Venice largely maintained low pyramidal or flat-topped campanile roofs for the entire
Romanesque period.
However, by the Fourteenth through Sixteenth centuries, campaniles in Venice changed
markedly from nearly flat roofs to strongly inclined pyramidal roofs. Of course, the most notable
campanile in Venice, that associated with the Basilica of San Marco, has a markedly different
appearance than the city’s Romanesque flat-topped towers. The Campanile di San Marco
(Figure 2.75) was finished in the Late Romanesque period and altered through several times
through the Gothic era, the last time in the High Renaissance (Macadam 95). Thus, it appears to
have been built and modified during a time when the climate of Venice was slowly changing and
perhaps also becoming more cooler, which would account for its characteristic spire. Other
campanile examples from the Gothic and Renaissance periods also demonstrate the increasing
prevalence of steep-roofed campaniles in Venice; for example, Santo Stefano (Figure 2.76),
Santa Fosca, Sant’Alvise, San Fantin, San Martino in Burano (Figure 2.77), and San Giorgio
Maggiore (Figure 2.78) all possess characteristically steep spires. While not all campaniles built
during the Gothic era show such verticality, such as the campanile of Santa Maria Gloriosa dei
Frari with its relatively flat roof, even this church’s campanile is more strongly terraced than the
rectangular proportioned Romanesque campaniles. Other parts of northern Italy also demonstrate
Simmons 33
this trend—for example, both Modena and Verona possess several strongly inclined towers that
provide an important contrast to much of the rest of Italy.
Despite the prevalence of these Gothic campaniles and their clearly greater verticality
versus previous Venetian spires, they are not nearly as strongly inclined as the towers on some of
the Late Romanesque churches in Cologne, nor were they as steep as other spired towers being
built at the same time north of the Alps in Vienna (Austria) or France (especially by the Late
Gothic period). Thus, Venice’s flat topped campaniles seem regionally suitable to their
environment—not as inclined as in other parts of Europe that experience more precipitation and
colder weather but more inclined than central and southern Italy which experienced even more
typically Mediterranean weather conditions. Other trends in Venetian roofs also might reflect
this trend; for example, excluding its Byzantine domes, the Basilica of San Marco maintains a
nearly flat roof top, as does the Romanesque church of San Giacomo dell’Orio and the secular
Romanesque Fondaco Dei Turchi. These contrast markedly with the steeper roof of the nearby
Gothic Doge’s Palace. Similarly, many Gothic churches in the city, such as Santa Maria Gloriosa
dei Frari, Madonna dell’Orto, and San Giovanni e Paolo, maintain relatively steep roofs—
approximately between 30° and 45° inclination—more vertical than those seen in many areas of
southern Italy but not nearly as steep as those north of the Alps. Therefore, using the example of
architecture in Venice, variation in spires and campanile roof structures appears to provide at
least an indication of the climate change that occurred in Northern Italy by the Fourteenth,
Fifteenth, and Sixteenth centuries as the onset of the Little Ice Age.
Roof Tiles
In addition to roof and spire inclination, the type of roof tile used in church construction
might also be able to provide important information about climate and climate change during the
Simmons 34
Middle Ages. In general, the most prominent type of tile used during the Early Medieval era
stretching into the Romanesque period was the imbrex Mediterranean-style tile (Wachs 87).
These particular tiles, still prevalent across much of the Mediterranean basin today, are made of
brick and often have the shape of a half cylinder divided along its diameter. They also work
particularly well on low inclination roofs (like those seen during the Romanesque era) but
become much less stable when placed on roofs with inclination angles exceeding 45° (87). In
addition, imbrex tiles can be made relatively easily and cheaply, which is responsible for their
relative popularity and prevalence across southern Europe. In addition, most water falling on
these tiles is able to channel between the individual semi-cylindrical tiles down the inclination of
the roof (87).
However, imbrex tiles do not provide adequate protection from the elements for buildings
in a cold climate with lots of precipitation, such as that which characterized northern Europe
during the Little Ice Age. With a southward shift in the mean position of the jet, faster winds
associated with an increased number of cyclonic storms over Europe would have driven
rainwater in between the roof tiles, which in turn likely caused water to leak into church interiors
(93-94). Additionally, while imbrex tiles might be adequate for the dry Mediterranean climate,
most often associated with short bursts of rainfall with afternoon thunderstorms in the summer
followed by rapid evaporation, they are not able to sustain prolonged periods of rainfall or
persistently damp conditions. Although most rainwater drains off the rooftop, without rapid
evaporation a layer of water also clings in the crevasses between the tiles, which would serve
over time (through the process of capillary attraction) to weaken the tiles and allow ever greater
amounts of water to seep below the roof level and cause internal damage to the vaults, roof
supports, or interior. In addition, the freezing of rainwater in the crevasses between the tiles has a
Simmons 35
particularly deleterious effect on the roof structure, causing the bricks to spread apart and
creating significant gaps that allow water to leak into the interior. Similarly, the crevasses also do
not aid in the transport of snow to the ground; in fact, snow gets caught between the crevasses,
adding additional weight to the building’s roof during particularly heavy snowfalls and creating
the potential for roof collapse. In addition, as snow melts gradually, the cycle of snow melting
during the day and refreezing at night also weakens or even destroys the tiles. And in general,
these imbrex tiles are unstable under the steeper roof angles achieved during the Gothic era in
order to accelerate rain and snow to the ground. Thus, imbrex tiles appear to be particularly
ineffective under the kinds of weather conditions increasingly experienced by northern Europe
during the Little Ice Age.
Thus, it stands to reason that northern Europe would have sought alternative methods of
roofing during the onset of climate changes in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries, and
indeed imbrex tiles in the north were gradually exchanged for flat tiles. These tiles were
relatively easier to make than the curved imbrex tiles of the century before, and they were often
made of metals (such as lead roof tiles of Chartres Cathedral) and lacked groves, which served to
minimize capillary attraction and roof degradation (93-94). While hydroscopic clinging is an
important consideration as rainwater spreads out along a flat tile surface (which provides more
friction than the channeled imbrex arrangements), these tiles could be placed on steeper roofs
than could be allowed with the use of imbrex tiles (93-94). Often anchored on securely with
bosses or flanges, these flat tiles, used in combination with a steep roof inclination, allowed for
faster rain and snow shedding to the ground (93-94). In addition, these tiles could also be
partially overlapped to provide even greater protection from the penetration of rainwater (93-94).
Therefore, the use of flat tiles in northern churches would appear to be an appropriate adaptation
Simmons 36
for cooler, damp, and rainy northern climates, while imbrex tiles seem more suitable to a warm,
dry Mediterranean climate. Correspondingly, a region by region analysis of tile types and
changes in tile designs, not only in churches but in secular constructions as well, over time
during the Central Middle Ages through Late Middle Ages might provide crucial information
about climate changes that occurred in Europe.
Unfortunately, most Medieval rooftops have been significantly modified since their
original construction, creating important limitations to this kind of research, although estimations
on the previous roofing styles of some churches (especially rural ones, which were least likely to
be frequently modified) can sometimes be inferred by assuming a principle of persistence (where
previous styles have been adapted or reconstructed according to their traditional original
appearance). Wachs indicates that the flat roof tiles began gradually replacing other tile
variations in the north in the late Eleventh century, after the climax point of the Medieval warm
period. However, other important factors, such as the opening of lead mines in the Thirteenth
century in France, England, and Germany, the expense of the roof tiles, proximity to mines or
centers of distribution, and kinds of local materials available also likely controlled the rate of
conversion to flat roofed tiles during the Central and High Medieval Period (Wachs 95, 100).
Thus, if conditions were still relatively dry and sunny, and the weather appropriately
Mediterranean, then the imbrex tiles might have continued to be used in many locations in the
north until climate change necessitated a transition in roof tile usage.
Indeed, many Romanesque churches in the north did maintain the imbrex tile tradition
during the Medieval Warm Period, and this is readily visible in the churches of St. Etienne in
Vignory (Burgundy, north central France) and the Romanesque-Gothic church of St. Madeleine
in Vezelay (also in Burgundy) (Altet 18, 120). Additionally, although their original roof state
Simmons 37
cannot be confirmed, the presence of brick tiles on the northern rural Romanesque churches of
Luzarches, Epfig, Guer, and Mareuil (previously discussed in the roof inclination section above)
may indicate the usage of imbrex tiles through the High and Late Romanesque periods. By the
Gothic age, however, slate tiles had become prevalent, as is evident by the flat tiles used over
late Romanesque churches in Cologne, and preexisting churches were also likely retiled to
provide better water shedding in later eras when Romanesque roofs adapted to the dry Medieval
Warm Period became dangerously unstable under the damp conditions of the Little Ice Age. In
addition, Northern churches, such as St. George in St. Martin-de-Boscherville, were also more
likely to adopt flat tiles due to demands to produce greater spire and roof verticality (perhaps,
again, related to the cooler, wetter climate of this northern region). One of the best examples of
surviving flat tile roofs is provided by Chartres Cathedral, which was reworked in lead sheets in
1335 after the clear onset of the Little Ice Age in the early part of that century (Wachs 106).
Because of constant modification and repair needed to maintain a roof structure, however, such
analysis is limiting, and a closer archaeological analysis of the original states of roof tiles (and
original and modified inclinations of roofs) of cathedrals or other buildings during the
Romanesque and Early Gothic periods in northern and central Europe is needed in order to
provide a better picture of climate change in the north using roof tiles.
Another prominent method of roof covering, especially in poorer or rural regions, was the
thatch roof. While no examples of original Medieval thatch survive today, sometimes traditional
usage of thatch in a given time period (or continued traditional use today) can give an indication
of past climates. In general, thatch cannot be used in dry climates due to the associated fire
hazard, so only regions that were appropriately damp could use this material as a shelter covering
(99). Thus, during the Medieval Warm Period, when the jet stream was shifted to the north,
Simmons 38
thatch remained unviable for much of Europe. Parts of Northern England, such as East Anglia,
did maintain a thatch tradition during the High Medieval period, and this provides clues
concerning the location of the polar jet. Tracking the usage of thatch as a roofing medium in
other rural regions, particularly through archaeological remains and surviving documentary
evidence, might provide important indications about the dampness of certain regions compared
to others. However, unlike original tiles (which can sometimes be found in excavations around a
cathedral or in remnants on the roof), thatch cannot be traced as easily due to its eventual
biodegradation. Additionally, changes from traditional, simple wooden roof structures to better
protected tiled roofs and the dates during which greater protection and support was afforded to
wooden roofs, also might provide important details about the nature of climate change in the
High Middle Ages, especially in England where plain wooden roofs were common during the
Romanesque era and parts of the Gothic period.
The Medieval Cathedral Transept-Nave Crossing: Regional Variations in Domes and Spires In addition to spires, domes were also prominently used as church vaulting or roof
structures during the Medieval period, and they are worth close consideration due to their strong
latitudinal and temporal variation across parts of Europe. The domes of the Romanesque period
were largely semicircular or slightly oblong, which allows the exposure of the roofing structure
and permits rain to spread out slowly along the sides of the dome accentuating the eroding
processes of capillary attraction. In addition, while domes are particularly sturdy architectural
features, wet, heavy snow could easily accumulate on the flatter surface of the dome top and
provide additional weight or melting and refreezing on the rooftop that could weaken the dome.
Thus, spherical and even slightly oblong domes are not appropriate for climates in the far north
and are rarely found there. The fact that Russian churches often maintained domes would seem
Simmons 39
to contradict this conjecture, but domes in Eastern Europe (probably an adaptation due to
Byzantine influences) are often limited in size, placed on larger towers or spires, often topped by
nearly vertical pinnacles, and possess strong tiling methods that limit snow accumulation. In
addition, the fact that many parts of Russia experience lighter, dry snowfall in the winter would
allow the domes to support more snow weight (and lighter snow would also be more likely to
blow or slide off the domes). The damper conditions, wetter snowfall, and cooler climate of
northwestern Europe, accompanied by a relative lack of classical and Byzantine influence,
resisted the development of domes in Northern Europe until well after the Medieval period had
come to a close.
As already demonstrated, in the Mediterranean Basin (and particularly Italy and
southwestern France), the characteristic vertical spire or pinnacle feature was rarely used over
the central nave and transept crossing in the Mediterranean as it was in Rayonnant, Gothic, and
even Late Gothic/Early Renaissance churches in the north. In Toulouse (southern France), the
strongly vertical crossing spire of St. Sernin provides an important exception, but many other
churches in the surrounding region began developing an alternative architectural feature—the
dome—during the Romanesque period. Like many surviving structural elements from classical
antiquity, the dome was a characteristically Mediterranean phenomenon, used in the Pantheon in
Rome and many other smaller temple structures throughout the empire. In addition, the dome
remained an important feature of many churches in the Byzantine-Greek world, such as Hagia
Sophia in Constantinople and the monasteries Hosios Loukas and Daphni in Greece.
Romanesque architects in the south, heavily influenced by classical remains and Byzantine
influences, were particularly likely to adopt this dome aesthetic (most often used to cover the
central transept crossing). This is particularly evident in Italy in the examples provided by San
Simmons 40
Marco (in Venice, Italy) and Pisa Cathedral, both of which maintain prominent domes dating
from the Romanesque period (Jansen 285). Although previous influences might provide a large
part of the justification of dome prevalence in Italy, this semispherical architectural feature is
also appropriately suitable to the Mediterranean environment due to a relative lack of rain and
snow in this region. In addition, windows placed along the lower lantern of the dome also serve
as a prominent means of providing light into southern cathedral crossing interiors, and these
windows also add an aesthetically appealing lightweight airiness to the transept vaults and the
ceiling (Wachs 82).This effect is particularly noticeable in the dome lantern in the Romanesque
Old Cathedral of Salamanca (Spain).
Further to the north, other parts of Europe also maintained dome structures during the
Romanesque period. Most of the domes in France are likely also tied to Byzantine influences; in
particular, western France had important trade connections with Venice and the Near East and
maintained the strongest dome tradition, and this is particularly well reflected by the dome
structures developed in St. Front at Perigueux and St. Pierre in Angouleme (the latter church is
built on a series of dome vaults modeled heavily off of San Marco’s domes)(Tilley 339). Also,
Western France is dominated by the Atlantic ridge and related Gulf Stream and experiences a
somewhat milder and drier climate than areas just a few hundred miles to the north and east, and
thus the dome structure must have been particularly appropriate during the Medieval Warm
Period when the Mediterranean-like climate already provided much drier and milder weather to
Western France than would have typically been seen in later centuries.
Also in France, Notre Dame in Le Puy en Velay (south central France) also maintains a
prominent, externally exposed dome structure in its central crossing. And eastern influences (as
well as ties to Western France) were similarly strong further to the south in Spain where
Simmons 41
cimborio domes were used in the Old Cathedral of Salamanca and Zamora Cathedral. The latter
two domes, as well as most domes in Italy, remained uncovered on the exterior façade (and
possess virtually no vertical pinnacle or spire protection of their relatively flat tops), but many
domes further to the north were given additional shielding by a low inclination roof (Altet 120).
Notre Dame du Port in Clermont-Ferrand (central France) provides a good example of this, as do
the dome-like vaulting structures that developed in lantern towers in Germany (for example, at
Speyer Cathedral) during parts of the High and Late Romanesque periods (although these were
surrounded by a steeper inclined roofs often exceeding 40-50° inclinations). In the case of St.
Pierre in Angouleme (western France), many of the domes were also protected by the roof
(unlike San Marco, where the roof domes are exposed) and the central crossing dome, which is
exposed, is provided an oblong shape and pinnacle at its top to ward off the effects of
precipitation. The fact that Spanish, southern French, and Italian domes remained largely
exposed on their exteriors, while churches further to the north often maintained low sloping roofs
(and a lack of domes slightly further to the north in Brittany, Normandy, Ile de France, and the
Loire Valley), suggests that domes might not have been appropriate for some northern
environments even in the Medieval Warm Period (but that low inclination roofs were relatively
adequate to northern precipitation draining needs during this period). Thus, the domes of central
and western France might have needed added protection, and this would have especially been the
case during the Little Ice Age (when further protective measures, such as the addition of spires,
would have been necessary in many places). Another telling sign is the fact that dome
construction became less prevalent in Western and Central France during the Little Ice Age.
In general, while elaborate dome-like lantern (crossing tower) interior vaulting is
particularly prevalent in Normandy and parts of England during the Romanesque and Gothic
Simmons 42
ages (such as at St-Etienne in Caen), the dome is curiously lacking in the North until Italianate
Late Renaissance and Baroque art and architecture became the predominant pan-European
aesthetic trend. The lack of domes in the Medieval Period may easily be due to climactic factors.
As already discussed, the flattened top of the dome allows water to spread out on a half spherical
dome surface, weakening the tiles and increasing the risk of the collapse of the dome. Northern
churches, on the other hand, often maintained spires rather than domes in their central towers.
This is readily demonstrated by Rayonnant Gothic churches (or Rayonnant additions to earlier
Gothic churches) such as Amiens, Notre Dame de Paris, and other locations. Salisbury
Cathedral, as discussed earlier, also maintains a steep spire at its crossing, as does the Late
Gothic Rouen Cathedral.
Thus, it makes sense that the spire, with its clear verticality and rain and snow shedding
capacity, would be predominant type of central crossing tower found in northern Europe and
used instead of the less climactically adaptable spherical domes. Even when domes were adopted
in the north during later centuries of the Little Ice Age, they often took a more oblong, parabolic,
or terraced appearance (and less spherical like those of the Romanesque period). In addition,
northern domes were almost always topped by a steeply vertical or terraced spire and further
protected by sturdy flat tiles (rather than the easily eroded imbrex-brick tiles used on the
Fifteenth Century dome of Florence Cathedral). These spire-like features can be seen in the
buildings and cathedrals of later centuries, such as that of the Institute de France in Paris (built in
the Seventeenth century) and the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London.
The domes of transalpine Northern Italy, and specifically those of Venice, probably best
illustrate the evolution of dome structures over the course of the climate transition during the
Medieval period. For example, the domes of the Romanesque church of San Marco were
Simmons 43
originally shallow, hemispherical, and covered in easily-eroded brick tiles (Zuffi 14). However,
in the 1200s these domes were replaced by steeper dome structures covered in flat tiling and
topped by spire-like lanterns (14). And in the Venetian domes of the Renaissance and Baroque
periods, built during the heart of the Little Ice Age, prominent towers and spires were placed on
the top of dome structures that minimize the flat space over the dome (these were also often
covered in flat lead tiles). This trend can be readily demonstrated by the domes over the facades
of large scale churches of Santa Maria della Salute, San Giorgio Maggiore, Il Redentore, and San
Simeon Piccolo. Even more southerly churches in the Late Gothic and Renaissance periods,
such as in Florence, Siena, and Vatican City, had more prominent dome pinnacles or towers and
were made more oblong, contrasting markedly with the domes of earlier centuries such as those
at Zamora and Pisa. While this may likely be due to architectural and technological innovations
as well as aesthetic tastes, a more prominent negative NAO might have provided more
precipitation to the south as well on occasion, which would have promoted the adaptation of the
tiles and roof structures of the domes.
The Conical or Semispherical Roof of Apsidial Chapels
Another dome-like feature often seen on church facades is the semi-spherical apse. This
particular roof shape, which looks like a quarter sphere attached to the side of a building (and
positioned over an aspidial chapel or choir), was particularly prominent during the Romanesque
era in both the north and south. A simple, slightly upward-bent quarter sphere (in contrast to a
half spherical dome) constrains its lowest inclination area against the wall (thus minimizing the
flat area). Water, in turn, would be more likely to drain along the curvature in the wall than
spread along the dome (which would have been more of a problem in the transition period and
Little Ice Age compared to the Medieval Warm Period when walls were largely unprotected
Simmons 44
from running water), and the steeper inclination at the other sides of the dome would likely
accelerate water downward. In addition, these quarter spheres’ attachment to the exterior wall
likely made them sturdier and easier to replace than elevated crossing domes (which are largely
supported from support structures established below). However, despite some water drainage
limitations, spherical domes attached to larger wall or roof structures acted slightly more like low
inclination roofs than regular domes and were thus more acceptable to a greater part of Europe.
The choir of St. George chapel in Prague, while possessing a thoroughly modified roof, suggests
the importance of the semispherical apse. Often a more conical rooftop to the spherical apse was
also adopted, usually having very low roof inclinations in southern churches (such as St Sernin,
St-Foy (Conques), and St. Martin (Fromista, Spain)), and relatively high inclinations in the north
(such as the Norman Church of St. Georges). In some northern European churches, the
inclination of these apse roofs was increased further by cutting the quarter sphere/cone in half,
producing a steeper conical shape that served to drain cathedral roofs even better. This is
particularly visible in Hildesheim cathedral in northern Germany. Additionally, in many of
Cologne’s churches (particularly the late Romanesque churches dating from the late 1100s and
early 1200s) a steep conical rooftop or even a geometric (greater verticality) rooftop to protect
the apses was generally preferred to the traditional quarter spherical or moderate inclination cone
variety.
Similarly, in the early Gothic age the spherical apse/cone roof had not been abandoned
completely, and this is suggested by their prevalence on the Cathedral of Senlis (completed in the
late Twelfth Century and Early Thirteenth Century) on the apsidial chapels of the choir. In later
Gothic styles, however, low conical and spherical apse rooftops were rarely seen, and apsidial
chapels were largely replaced by sharp, pyramidal rooftops, such as at Amiens Cathedral and St.
Simmons 45
Vitus in Prague, or pushed underneath larger spires. However, this produced creases in the roof
structure that could become weak spots and mandated the creation of more complex networks of
drains and gargoyles as water drained from one roof level to another. Also, in many cases the
chapel level was kept under a single roof of its own, and architects of Gothic churches also
brought chapels inside cathedral walls rather than radiating them outside the walls (such as at
Rayonnant to Late Gothic St. Baff’s Cathedral in Ghent and St. Jacobskerk in Antwerp,
Belgium). The transformation of the treatment of the apsidal chapel (and its roof structure) that
occurred from Senlis to St. Baff’s seems to indicate a clear incentive to protect the cathedral
from the harmful effects of precipitation. However, many southern churches and cathedrals did
not bring apsidial chapels within cathedral walls, and some churches in the Gothic style, two
notable example of which are Florence’s Duomo and Todi church, maintained outward-radiation
apsidial chapels with a proliferation quarter sphere domes. Nor would a southern Mediterranean
location like Florence have to worry much about the effects of precipitation on the dome facade.
Thus, the Central, High, and Late Medieval evolution of the spherical/conical apse rooftop, as
well as changes in the architectural positioning of apsidial chapels within the framework of a
sacred building, may also be related to climate change occurring in Europe in the Thirteenth and
Fourteenth Centuries.
Roof Drainage: Gutters and Gargoyles
The gutter systems added to roofs during various architectural periods of the Middle
Ages also provide an important indication of climate change. In particular, the prevalence of
precipitation is an important part of determining climate, and architects also had to take the
regional amounts, frequency, and kinds of precipitation into account when building the roofs and
stone facades of the churches and cathedrals in order to be successful in their construction
Simmons 46
endeavor. More specifically, persistent water running down facades of churches causes capillary
attraction, which can cause roof structures and stone facades to erode at joints, crevasses, and
indentations, and in turn destabilizes the entire sheltered structure (Wachs 60). Therefore, the
fact that gutters did not exist on many Romanesque churches and cathedrals is particularly
telling, likely indicating that the Medieval Warm Period brought drier conditions more similar to
that of the Mediterranean to northern Europe (55). While various means of water shedding were
developed during the Romanesque period, such as splayed window sills, hood-moulds,
weatherings, copings, and cornices, as Wachs indicates
“by the end of the Romanesque period, however, most of the expedients to shed water were known and used. But they were not used universally nor consistently. In pre-conquest England, for example, few, if any were used; and even in the belated Romanesque of the Rhineland there was not a concerted effort to clear the walls of the water running down their surfaces” (55).
Thus, although several devices were developed during the Romanesque period to help prevent
capillary attraction, which indicates an overall awareness of the need to divert precipitation, the
shedding of water did not appear to be of great concern to Romanesque church architects. And
even by the Early Gothic period (late Eleventh and Early Thirteenth Century), as indicated in the
above quote, the shedding of water away from the facades of churches was not an immediate
concern to German architects. Therefore, while Wachs considers the climate of northern Europe
to have been constant in the past 2000 years, and thus interprets the lack of use of gutters and
shedding features as an ignorance of innovations from the past and present, the dry weather of
the Medieval Warm Period likely provided at least part of the justification for a lack of water
shedding features on Romanesque roofs, towers, and facades in northern Europe.
And indeed, at the close of the Medieval Warm Period and the onset of the Little Ice Age,
when the jet stream shifted southward and precipitation likely became more prevalent over
Simmons 47
northern Europe (along with more snow and ice), the architectural handling of precipitation
quickly evolved to adapt to these important climactic changes. For example, gutters began to be
developed in the mid Twelfth century and became more prevalent in the late 1100s and early
1200s, and cornices were also improved in Notre Dame de Paris to the point of having the same
efficiency as Mediterranean Greek and Roman cornices of classical antiquity (Wachs 63).
However, while gutters were systematically developed during the Early Gothic era, in
some cases they were likely much more inefficient than later gutters developed during the
Flamboyant Gothic period. This is suggested by the problems experienced during the
construction of Troyes Cathedral, which was begun in the 1200s and continued until the 1500s.
Of course, during the beginning of construction the Medieval Warm Period was coming to a
close (but conditions in Troyes, in the comparatively mild climate of southern Champagne, were
probably still relatively warm), but by the Fourteenth century climactic conditions were likely
rapidly deteriorating, and slow wear and tear on the early Gothic and Rayonnant parts of the
cathedral began to cause structural problems by the late Fourteenth century. In particular, the
gutters on the nave roof were ineffective in transporting the volume of precipitation experienced
at this point in history, and this, along with leaking and winter freezing inside the roof,
contributed to the nave ceiling’s collapse in 1389 (Murray 30). Gutters in the bell tower and over
the choir had also deteriorated over the centuries and required expansion and repair (30). In
addition, according to Stephen Murray, author of Building Troyes Cathedral, “the gutters
running between the pyramidal roofs did not have enough of an inclination to ensure a vigorous
flow of water” (10). These could have been solved by a higher spire inclination angle on the
towers, and this likely was achieved for other cathedrals built during and after the time of the
collapse of the tower. However, for Troyes Cathedral, whose construction spanned the transition
Simmons 48
from the Medieval Warm Period to the Little Ice Age, the gutter system had to be completely
reworked in later centuries (following major structural failures and collapses) to make up for
inefficiencies provided in the earlier construction methods. Thus, Troyes Cathedral provides an
interesting illustration of how climate transition and architectural failures, changes, and
innovations interacted with each other during the Gothic era.
In addition, as the Little Ice Age continued to push the jet stream to the south, and as the
Gothic style continued to evolve, gargoyles became a widespread feature on the cathedrals and
spires of northern Europe. Gargoyles are particularly effective devises for preventing capillary
attraction because they project water running down the roof top or walls of a church or cathedral
into the air away from building. Some of the first gargoyles seen in France were developed for
the Early Gothic cathedral at Laon (skipping the cathedral or Chartres, constructed earlier around
1200), and they achieved greater sophistication later at Reims, where they were placed at
strategic points on the cathedral façade to maximize drainage efficiency (Frankl 88). At Le
Mans, completed in the mid Thirteenth Centuries (although work on these stone sculptures was
likely continued in later centuries), gargoyles were projected further away from the cathedral,
also likely an added attempt to keep rainwater away from cathedral walls (90). As the Gothic age
progressed, more and more gargoyles were employed for drainage purposes on church and tower
façades, perhaps due to greater precipitation or the need for a more efficient draining system and
perhaps also partly due to better technical handling and skill of church drainage systems with the
onset of the Little Ice Age in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries. This proliferation of
gargoyles on Late Gothic facades and spires is perhaps best represented by the example of St.
Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna, which is virtually covered in gargoyles. In addition, compared to
the more decorative sculptural variety of Laon, gargoyles in later cathedrals often evolved into
Simmons 49
longer necked creatures specifically designed to remove precipitation away from a church or
cathedral as efficiently as possible.
In this respect, the density of gargoyles on church facades (along with, of course, the
dates that they were placed there) might also be an important climactic indicator. While churches
such as St. Stephen’s in Vienna maintain a large number of gargoyles, churches experiencing
drier Mediterranean climates, such as those Albi in southern France and Palma di Mallorca in
Spain possess a comparatively small number of strategically placed gargoyles, with few
pinnacles or other devices used to protect their facades from rainwater. A smaller scale regional
comparison through the Gothic period also provides a similar, potentially climate-related
illustration of changes in gargoyle usage. For example, focusing on the smaller city churches in
Paris, structures maintained fewer (or no) gargoyles in the Early Gothic era (for example, the
Romanesque-Gothic transition churches of St. Julien-le-Pauvre and St. Germain-des-Pres) than
in the Late Gothic Era, where churches such as St. Severin, St. Merri, and St. Germain
l’Auxerrois and the Tour St. Jacques proffer a much greater number of gargoyles. Similarly, the
dates at which gargoyles were added to preexisting gothic facades also might provide important
clues about the nature of precipitation efficiency and climate. For example, gargoyles were not
added to Chartres or Notre Dame de Paris until after the completion of cathedral construction in
the mid 1200s (at a time when gargoyles had been increasingly used at Leon and Reims).
Similarly, Early Gothic facades in central France undoubtedly lacked gargoyles until they were
added in later Gothic periods (for example, St. Madeleine in Vezelay and St. Etienne in
Bourges). In addition, gargoyles might even be able to indicate smaller variations in precipitation
and climate. For example, a church built in southern Europe during an unusually wet period
might have more gargoyles on its facades than churches constructed before or after this time (this
Simmons 50
might be the case in Limoux (southern France), where the number of gargoyles on the spire of
the church of seems unwarranted given its far southern location—indicating that it might have
been constructed during a prominent negative NAO).
These latter examples from Burgundy and southern France seem to illustrate that
gargoyles also spread slowly to the south over the course of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and
Fifteenth centuries. Indeed, they were employed in buildings and churches in Clermont,
Limoges, St. Nazarre, and even as far south as Carcassone and Limoux, perhaps following the
southward movement of rain and colder weather associated with the oncoming of the Little Ice
Age (Wachs 64). While Wachs maintains that “in the softer climate of Burgundy, in the center
and south of France, gargoyles were rarely used,” the climate change associated with the Little
Ice Age would have likely made gargoyles more prevalent in Burgundy from the Thirteenth
through Fifteenth centuries, and this is evidenced by the inclusion of gargoyles on the cathedral
facades at Vezelay, Bourges, and Auxerre. In the last case, the gargoyles also accompany a high
inclination roof structure that allows better water shedding (but this kind of steeper roof was not
typical of earlier churches and cathedrals in Burgundy, even during the High Gothic age
(Bourges Cathedral’s rooftop is not so inclined), indicating a possible climactic shift). In
addition, gargoyles were also employed in Milan and Siena during the Late Gothic period,
although the presence of exposed (unniched) sculptures also placed on their façades indicate that
decorative aesthetic rather than capillary action might have been the primary motivation for the
usage of these structures. In general, though, gargoyles were much less common in southern
churches and cathedrals and particularly rare in Italy, where the Gothic style as a whole was
much less common. Indeed, gutter systems were often less fully developed in Italian churches
Simmons 51
compared to northern cathedrals, which the Romanesque style and Romanesque-like external
features prevailing over the newer conventions of the northern Gothic style.
Other nonclimactic factors might have had a role in the construction of gargoyles—for
example, when the stone used for construction was particularly porous and susceptible to damage
from capillary attraction, gargoyles were more likely to be used, and additionally, gargoyles were
often limited to construction projects where available funding could be spared to provide
sculpted decoration (and thus not all churches could afford gargoyles) (Wachs 64). Therefore,
when cheaper lead pipe drains were developed during the Sixteenth century, these were often
used in place of the gargoyle sculptures. However, the fact that the gargoyle method of drainage
was developed at the beginning of the transition into the Little Ice Age and remained popular
throughout the rest of the Gothic period suggests that they are at least, in part, a product of the
increasing precipitation rates seen with the southward translation of the mean jet location during
the Little Ice Age. Thus, a closer analysis of the geographic diffusion of gargoyles during
different stages of Gothic style might provide additional meaningful information about the nature
and scope of climate change as the Medieval Warm Period came to an end.
Flying Buttresses
In addition, the flying buttress technique developed during the Early Gothic era provides
an example of another exterior feature that is affected by precipitation, and thus changes in the
flying buttress support structure during the Gothic era may also likely be affected by increasing
precipitation rates. During the Romanesque period, the thrust associated with the massive barrel
vaults used to frame the ceilings of many cathedrals and major churches had to be supported, and
this was often achieved by creating thicker walls. However, walls could only be made so thick
before becoming impractical and incurring great expense, so architects soon began using
Simmons 52
buttresses—or wall extensions lengthened beyond the exterior church wall—at the location of
vault-wall intersections so that actual church walls could remain appropriately thin. The buttress
feature continued to evolve over the course of the Romanesque and Early Gothic eras, and as
cathedral vaults rose toward the heavens, the supporting buttresses had to be extended further
and further outside of the walls of the church in order to support the thrust of the elevated
ceiling. It was in response to this need that the flying buttress was born. Many of these early
buttresses, such as those (reconstructed) at Notre Dame de Paris, radiate majestically outward
from the rooftop to the ground.
However, these features are also prominently exposed to the elements, and because flying
buttresses are relatively thin arches with a component of their projection perpendicular to falling
rain, they are highly subject to degradation through capillary attraction (Wachs 74). In other
words, water falling onto the individual stones that make up flying buttress arcs are more likely
to spread out on the partly horizontal stone surface of the buttress and seep into crevasses and the
mortar between the stones, which eventually would serve to destabilize both the buttress and the
entire ceiling of the cathedral (these kinds of deleterious effects would be especially rapid given
a colder climate in which water can freeze between the buttress stones). This degradation is made
even worse by the fact that some early buttresses even served as drains funneling precipitation
off church walls or roofs.
Therefore, in the cold rainy (and even snowy) climate of Northern Europe during the
Little Ice Age, flying buttresses would need constant upkeep in order to maintain the stability of
church vaults, and thus in the long run these support structures appear to be an impractical
solution to the vault thrust problem. Therefore, it is not surprising that the Early Gothic period
was the golden age of the flying buttresses, as precipitation at this time (the late Medieval Warm
Simmons 53
period) was likely still limited and flying buttresses probably served as a viable, effective, and
relatively permanent support structures under the drier (on average) climactic conditions. This
seems even more likely considering the fact that the first flying buttresses, such as those of Notre
Dame de Paris and St. Remi de Reims, were almost completely unprotected from rain and ice
(79). St. Etienne in Bourges provides another example of Early Gothic, large span flying
buttress structures, and it was also completed before the Little Ice Age. However, this particular
cathedral is located further to the south (in central France) than most Gothic cathedrals
constructed during this period in history, and it thus enjoyed a more favorable climate for flying
buttresses than most of northern Europe during later Gothic periods.
As precipitation increased over the course of the Little Ice Age, buttresses had to be
modified to limit their exposure to rainwater. In the far north, for example, Swedish and
Muscovite churches responded to the problem by developing a sophisticated system of internal
buttressing, using low, thick walls, providing converging walls when possible, and adding a
cupola profile that could carry the vault’s thrust to the ground (Wachs 76). However, internal
buttressing often limited the size of windows, which was not considered an option in many other
northern locations where interior lighting became one of the most important considerations of
church architects (74). One of the most popular alternatives to the exterior flying buttresses was
developed in English churches (which came under the influence of the stronger jet earlier in the
Gothic era): many of these cathedrals maintained buttresses underneath the aisle roof, when
possible, which minimized their exposure to the elements (74). Another popular method
maintained in England was the use of steeply vertical flying buttresses (such as those seen on the
façade of Salisbury cathedral), which provides a sturdier buttress structure (leaning closely
against the wall) that minimizes the component of the buttress perpendicular to the direction of
Simmons 54
falling rain (thus causing fast transport of water toward the ground and limited spreading on and
seeping into stone surfaces). In general, the creation of steeply vertical buttresses and buttressing
within church roofs in England in the Thirteenth century, at a time when more elaborate exterior
buttresses were still being used on the cathedrals of Reims and Beauvais in northern France,
suggests that the weather of England was first to deteriorate under the effects of a southward-
translating polar jet at the end of the Medieval Warm Period and the beginning of the Little Ice
Age.
In France, the aisle roof, which often extended below and outward from the clerestory
level, was the primary means of limiting the size and exposure of flying buttresses. Buttresses
were often simply extended from the clerestory to the aisle roof rather than to the ground, and as
the aisle roofs became taller and closer to the cathedral (and with the elimination of the formerly
prominent and separate triforium exterior terrace level), buttresses tended to become narrower
and more vertical. In some cathedrals, such as Amiens and Beauvais, buttress piers (towers
extending upward to meet the buttress), often protected by precipitation from gargoyles or steep,
water shedding pinnacles, were extended vertically from the aisle walls to height of the
clerestory, which allowed the span of the flying buttresses to be minimized. The Rayonnant
cathedrals of Reims, Amiens, and Beauvais also serve to illustrate changes in the treatment of
flying buttresses over the course of the Rayonnant period. Reims, the earliest cathedral built in
the Rayonnant style, possesses prominent flying buttresses in its choir, well protected by
pinnacles but maintaining a larger horizontal span more similar to Notre Dame de Paris than
cathedrals like Amiens built slightly later in the Rayonnant period. In addition, although Amiens
maintains some double-arched flying buttresses to support the cathedral vaults, Beauvais uses
them consistently to ensure their stability (which is understandable given Beauvais’s particularly
Simmons 55
disastrous experience with the collapse of vaults in the past). Similarly, while Amiens’s buttress
piers only extend to the height of the clerestory, requiring a larger arcing buttress span,
Beauvais’s towers stretch from the aisle roof to the choir roof, allowing a reduction in buttress
length. In addition, Amiens’s pinnacles remain relatively unprotected by gargoyles, whereas
Beauvais’s taller towers are covered with particularly long-necked stone monsters to ensure that
the buttresses and their supports are undamaged by precipitation. Thus, an evolution of
consciousness concerning the damaging effects of precipitation on flying buttress features is
clearly evident during the architectural evolution from Notre Dame de Paris and St. Etienne de
Bourges to Amiens and Beauvais, and this might be related to the climate changes occurring
during this time span.
In general, by the mid Thirteenth century buttresses began to be used with increasing
caution. For example, small drainage channels were carved into the upper buttress supports to
ensure that as little water as possible would run down them, and gargoyles were built out from
the buttress piers (these devices were also added to Notre Dame during a Thirteenth Century
remodeling of the cathedral, which may indicate an increasing consciousness of precipitation in
from the Early Gothic to Rayonnant architectural periods) (Wachs 80). In addition, more
invisible and protected methods of buttressing were developed in the church of St. Chapelle de
Paris. This particular structure has a very high vaulted ceiling, although most of the buttress vault
thrust is maintained in the interior and only relatively small extensions (called wall-adjacent
vertical buttresses) are maintained on the exterior (72). This example, along with a similar
structure of the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral, provided a model of architectural
engineering copied in many other parts of northern Europe (such as the Franciscan Church in
Bratislava), as it provided a perfect balance between the need for light (the walls of St. Chapelle
Simmons 56
are virtually made of glass) and the need to keep buttresses protected from the elements (Sloboda
41). The verticality of the buttresses also made the gargoyle method of draining more effective,
and indeed, two outward-projecting gargoyles are provided on the top of each wall-adjacent
buttress in St. Chapelle to provide better protection from water draining off the roof.
Eventually, vertical wall-adjacent buttresses became one of the most common forms of
buttressing during the Late Gothic period, seen in the particularly tall churches of Our Lady
Before the Snows and Our Lady Before Tyn in Prague, Czech Republic (as well as many if not
most others throughout Europe dating from the late Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries—
indicating the rapid spread of this convention across northern Europe after its perfection at St.
Chapelle in the mid 1200s). This method of buttressing is also exemplified by the perfect Late
Gothic Little Ice Age cathedral, St. Stephen’s in Vienna, which maintains large wall-adjacent
buttresses that do not interfere with the large window size and are hardly exposed to the
elements. While the pinnacle-flying buttress support system never died out, as is evident by their
usage on the exteriors of St. Merri (Paris), St. Gervais-St. Protais (Paris), St. Vitus Cathedral
(Prague), St. Maclou (Rouen), and Milan Cathedral, the vertical wall-adjacent buttress method
became more and more common across much of northern and central Europe. One notable
exception is England—while the vertical wall-adjacent buttresses were relatively common, many
larger constructions during the Perpendicular Gothic period sported exterior flying buttresses, as
illustrated by Henry VII’s addition to Westminster Abbey in London and Bath Abbey in Bath.
While this may be due to changes in aesthetic tastes of this particular period of art history (when
exterior and easily visible flying buttresses were rare in England in earlier centuries), drier
conditions to the north of the polar jet (such as those experienced in the early 1320s) might have
been better able to sustain the exposed buttresses of this era than when the polar jet was more
Simmons 57
concentrated over far northern Europe during the transition from the Medieval Warm Period to
the Little Ice Age.
Although flying buttresses are perhaps more supportable in southern Europe where
precipitation is rarer, they were largely excluded from Italian churches and cathedrals built in the
Gothic style. This is likely due to the prevalence of internal buttressing in this region, which had
been first developed by the Romans and prevailed in Italy for much of its post-Classical history.
Although internal buttressing limits the size of church windows, large windows were not a
valued addition to church architecture in the south as it was in the north (and the Gothic windows
in Italian churches were often not much larger or more extensive than Romanesque ones—this is
discussed in more detail below). Thus, Italian churches largely maintained a consistent method
of internal buttressing with little reason to adopt the extended, external flying buttresses of
northern Europe. And when they were constructed with flying buttresses, such as Santa Chiara in
Assisi (which has a particularly larger horizontal span), they were often done without
consideration for the effects of light and rain. In addition, buttresses in the south were more often
used in secular architecture to balance that outward thrust of town houses and building walls
spaced closely together, as illustrated in the Late Gothic era thin arcing buttresses between
houses in Rhodes Old Town (Greece). Such thin and exposed buttresses would not have likely
survived long in the north (where other adaptations, such as closely adjacent housing clustered
on each side of the street, were developed by the Little Ice Age—resulting in some of the
irregularity of northern Medieval street plans).
Spanish churches, on the other hand, adopted the Gothic style with a greater zeal, and
flying buttresses were more prevalent on churches in Spain than in Italy. In addition, the
persistent Mediterranean environment and limited rainfall of the Spanish kingdoms made the
Simmons 58
arcing exterior buttress model of Early Gothic churches in northern Europe more climactically
acceptable, and many Spanish cathedrals maintained flying buttresses instead of the wall-
adjacent or underneath roof buttresses more prevalent in the north (Wachs 81). For example, the
flying buttresses on the cathedral of Palma de Mallorca are extremely long, exposed, and
stretched out horizontally (which would not suffice very well if this region had persistent rainfall
or damp and cold conditions). Pamplona Cathedral also possessed extended flying buttresses
with a large horizontal span built largely in the 1400s—long after such buttresses had gone
extinct in northern European constructions (Street 211). Similar flying buttresses added to
Seville Cathedral in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth centuries (well after the north converted to more
internal and vertical buttressing) are extremely long, prominently exposed without protection
from gargoyles, and are also nearly horizontal (which would again be highly subject to capillary
attraction, but concern for this did not seem to be expressed by Spanish architects in their
construction of flying buttresses). Southern France as well was more likely to maintain a more
traditional, wide arced flying buttress style of the Early Gothic and Early Rayonnant periods,
such as those seen extending from the choir of Narbonne Cathedral which appear to be hybrid
between the buttresses of Bourges and Amiens.
Exterior Decoration: Sculpture, Porches, and Outdoor Wall Paintings
Changes in the exterior decoration placed on church facades and portals can also provide
important clues about climate change during the Medieval period. In particular, Wach notes that
Mediterranean churches often sport a variety of different kinds of exterior decorations—mosaics
are often used on the exteriors of Italian churches, such as Santa Maria in Trastevere in Rome,
and many churches were decorated with external paintings and exposed sculptures, such as those
seen on the facades of the cathedrals of Orvieto, Siena, and Florence. Northern churches, on the
Simmons 59
other hand, remained relatively undecorated by such ornaments—most sculptures were kept in
niches or under porches or recessed doorways, and similarly many exterior façades possessed
architectural stonework for decoration (such as tracery) rather than elaborate paintings or
mosaics. These differences, according to Wachs, are likely related to climate, as greater rainfall
rates north of the Mediterranean basin tend to wash away outdoor paintings and mosaics and
erode sculptures (45). By contrast, the Mediterranean’s general lack of rainfall has allowed
external paintings and mosaics to last for much longer periods of time. For example, Byzantine
paintings placed on the exposed interior walls of the Parthenon in Athens (Greece) are still
visible to this day, and similarly the early Renaissance paintings on the facades of Florence and
Orvieto’s respective duomos have withstood the test of time (47). In addition, unprotected stone
sculptures placed in external settings are also popular in the Mediterranean environment, as
illustrated by the prominence of sculpted fountains in outdoor locations in Italy, such as
Bernini’s outdoor sculptures and fountains in Rome), the four fountain sculptures of San Carlo
alle Quattro Fontane (also in Rome), and the procession of saints on the colonnade stretching out
from St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City. Stone sculptures and deep stone reliefs also often hang
off the facades or stand on the rooftops of churches, such as Siena’s Duomo, fully exposed to the
elements, and they have remained relatively intact with time. Some of dissimilarities in the
treatment of exterior sculpture decoration between northern and southern environments is likely
associated with carving mediums. Northern churches often used local stone—usually
limestone—for exterior sculptures, while Mediterranean environments more frequently used
quarried marble. Nevertheless, exterior exposure of art and outward aesthetic flamboyance (such
as in the triptych-like facades of Orvieto and Siena cathedrals) is rarely seen in Northern Gothic
Simmons 60
cathedrals, which primarily use architectural rather than sculptural decoration as the primary
aesthetic for facades above the portal/porch level.
However, Wachs fails to take into account another important point—many northern
churches throughout the Romanesque era, and even some churches built in the Gothic style, did
possess external paintings, exposed or poorly recessed sculptures, and sometimes even mosaics.
Therefore, the gradual loss of these prominent decorative schemes is likely not only associated
with changes in aesthetic tastes associated with new architectural innovations but also at least
partially due to northern Europe’s shift from a Mediterranean, viticulture climate (where this
kind of external layout was easily supportable given the dry conditions) to a much cooler and
wetter temperate climate.
Exterior Painting in Northern Cathedrals
For example, as had been practiced in the Mediterranean basin in Classical Antiquity,
many church and building facades during the Romanesque period were painted in both the
Mediterranean regions and Northern Europe. Not all Romanesque cathedrals possessed painted
exteriors, and the exclusion of outdoor paintings was probably more common in the north than in
the south (for example, Norman cathedral exteriors were often bare). In addition, sometimes in
the place of painted decoration, polychrome masonry was arranged in patterns on the exterior
(and sometimes interior) walls, such as the alternating red, black, white, yellow pattern at Notre
Dame du Puy en Velay and the reds, whites, and dark greys of Marmoutier and Rosheim in
Alsace (Altet 58). However, many churches, cathedrals, and monasteries that could afford further
painted decoration often invested in it. Unfortunately, few examples of exterior Romanesque
decoration on northern churches and cathedrals survive to illustrate this trend, likely due to the
slow wear of time and deleterious climate changes seen during the Little Ice Age, although an
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important example of what many Romanesque exteriors must have looked liked survives in the
example of fresco decoration on the sheltered east portal of St. Aubin d’Anger in the Loire
Valley (north central France).
Exterior painted decoration was particularly likely to appear in northern Europe on
painted sculptural decoration placed along cathedral facades. The revival of sculpture during the
early Romanesque period (and the beginning of the Medieval Warm Period) is believed to have
been based on miniature painted decoration, especially in the north where preexisting examples
of Classical sculptures and reliefs were lacking (Demus 6). While sculpture slowly developed
under the Romanesque style, eventually evolving into a sophisticated, three-dimensional rounded
art form, the influence of painted decoration on sculpture can still be seen well into the High
Romanesque period in the two dimensionality of many tympanum or portal figures in north and
central France (such as the west tympanum of St. Lazare in Autun, Burgundy, France) as well as
the swirling drapery seen in figures such as those of the tympanum of the central portal of the
narthex at St. Madeleine in Vezelay (7). Similarly, in imitation of figural representations in wall
frescoes, metal carvings, and manuscript miniatures, sculptures on the interior of churches were
also frequently painted in vibrant colors to provide an emphasis to biblical stories and figures (7).
However, despite the fact that most Romanesque interiors were at least partly painted, and many
major northern churches were provided with painted decoration from top to bottom (on walls,
sculptures, columns, capitals, vaults, and ceilings), 98-99% of interior Romanesque decoration
has been destroyed through wear and tear over the ages (21).
It follows naturally that any exterior architectural and sculptural painting from the
Romanesque period, which was even more exposed to the elements than during the Gothic era,
has largely worn away over the ages, and many art historians have ignored the prospect that
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exterior sculptures were also comprehensively painted until recently (22). However, it seems
logical that many tympanum, portal, and lintel sculptures and reliefs, having been initially
inspired by paintings, were likely painted like interior sculptures to provide visual emphasis
(especially during the early Romanesque period when sculpture and painting were most closely
related). In particular, early Romanesque relief sculpture, such as at St. Genis des Fontaines, was
most likely painted given its strongly flat, two dimensional nature (and the presence of potential
pigmentation at the foot and hands of one of the figures). In addition, paint survives on the relief
sculptures on the south tympanum of Notre Dame du Port in Clermont-Ferrand (central France)
and on sculptural decoration in Donzy-le-Pré, Lavardin, St-Pierre-le-Moutier, St-Benoit, and La
Charité, all in northern and central regions of France. Many other exterior sculptures and reliefs
in later Romanesque styles were likely painted similarly to surviving exterior Romanesque
painting further south at Notre Dame la Grande (Poitiers, western France) and St. Ambrogio in
Milan (northern Italy). The practice of outdoor sculptural painting in transalpine northern Italy
was maintained well into the thirteenth century, as is evidenced by the painted late Romanesque
and Gothic sculptural reliefs on the outdoor cathedral façade of San Marco in Venice (although it
is better protected than most Romanesque facades by a deep portal) (Zuffi 19).
Indeed, the prevalence of Romanesque exterior painting, previously considered rare, is
being more and more debated by art historians. For example, recent research indicates that the
famous statuary at St.-Gilles-du-Gard in Arles, Provence, (southern) France might also have
been painted (Demus 32). However, a closer observation of evidence is needed in order to
provide more evidence of the extent of this medium on church facades. More surviving
Romanesque wall space, particularly near the entrances of churches, should be closely
investigated for traces of pigment or painted decoration, and additional archaeological
Simmons 63
investigations near some churches might reveal the presence of nearby paint chips. In addition, a
close analysis of crevasses in the walls of Romanesque facades and sculptures for surviving
pigmentation might also prove useful in providing additional evidence of exterior Romanesque
wall painting. While the full extent of outdoor decoration in northern churches and cathedrals
will never be determined due to widespread replacement of Romanesque monuments with
Gothic buildings, a better indication of the prevalence of painted decoration and its decline might
provide more clues to the nature of climate change during this period. However, it is safe to
conclude that the vulnerable nature of Romanesque wall and sculpture painting, along with its
suspected prevalence on some northern and central European church exteriors during the
Romanesque period, likely indicates that prevailing conditions were dry enough to support such
decoration.
While exterior painting appears to be largely limited to the Romanesque era, the practice
of painting of exterior sculpture and architecture even survived into the Early Gothic era in some
northern churches and cathedrals. For example, the entire front façade of Wells Cathedrals was
brightly painted by the cathedral’s dedication in 1239 (Chapter of Wells Cathedral 4). The fact
that church walls were being painted into the Thirteenth Century provides an important
indication that the Medieval Warm Period was likely still in full force at this time; cathedral
authorities would not have commissioned the painting of such a large surface (at great expense)
if they believed that rainy weather would quickly destroy it, and thus the climate of southwestern
England (nearest of all locations in England to the North Atlantic Drift-Gulf Stream and Atlantic
ridge) during this period must have been sufficiently warm and dry in order to justify such a
work. Today, of course, little survives of this original painted decoration, indicative of the
climate changes that ensued since the construction of Wells Cathedral.
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As the Gothic style continued to evolve, however, exterior painting was largely
eliminated from church facades. Most major French and English cathedrals from the
Rayonnant/Decorated and Flamboyant/Perpendicular Gothic periods possessed only sculpture or
architectural decoration. While these relatively sudden changes in architectural ornamentation do
not necessarily precisely mirror climate shifts that occurred in the late Thirteenth and Fourteenth
centuries, the end of the medium and it failure to revive even during the Renaissance era when
fashionable Italian aesthetic movements had greater sway and some Italian facades boasted
colourful exterior sculptures and paintings (such as the Duomo in Florence), suggests that
climate change might have literally dampened the revival of exterior painting in the north.
However, in some territories north of the Alps, alternatives to exterior frescos and sculpture/wall
paintings, such as sgrafitto, were developed. Sgrafitto decorations, which were particularly
popular in central Europe (especially Bavaria and Bohemia), were produced by scratching
contour lines into a surface layered in one or multiple colors of wet plaster. The result produced
an effect similar to that of paintings, although the fact that it was etched (rather than painted) into
the wall allowed it to endure the normally deleterious effects of rain and water. Therefore,
sgrafitto can be viewed as an adaptation to the important limitations posed by climate on the art
of exterior wall painting and fresco north of the Alps.
Exterior Mosaics
Mosaics are another important method used to tell stories near the exterior entrances of
churches and cathedrals. This medium was particularly prominent in the south, where a strong
mosaic tradition had evolved in Antiquity and continued to exist well into the High and Late
Middle Ages. Some of the best examples of exterior mosaic decoration are at Santa Maria in
Trastevere (in Rome, Italy), which dates from the Twelfth through Thirteenth centuries
Simmons 65
(Macadam Rome 219). However, similar to fresco and wall paintings, mosaic decoration is
particularly vulnerable to temperature fluctuations and excessively rainy or cold conditions.
Thus, the relatively stable Mediterranean climate provides an optimal environment for exterior
mosaic decoration, while the medium becomes a less viable option for the exterior decoration of
northern Cathedrals for clear climactic reasons.
Nevertheless, mosaics were used in the north during certain parts of the Middle Ages.
Abbe Suger provides evidence that mosaics were, toward the end of the Medieval Warm period,
no longer being used frequently in northern churches and cathedrals; however, his implication
concerning aesthetic trends in art decoration also suggests that before his time they had been a
popular medium in northern Europe. Suger also specifically mentions that he commissioned a
brilliant outdoor mosaic to decorate his new west front, despite the fact that it was “falling out of
style” (Panofsky 63). This may indicate that prevailing weather conditions in the north, while
once supportive of outdoor mosaics, were already beginning to become unfavorable to cathedrals
which supported exterior mosaic decoration (many of which have been lost over time or
destroyed with later construction). However, Suger’s willingness to decorate his own basilica
with mosaics may indicate that conditions were not dire enough in his own time (the early-mid
1100s) to exclude them entirely as a viable medium. By the time the cold and wet weather of the
Great Famine took hold in the early Fourteenth century, such mosaic decoration would have
likely been downright impractical. A few northern churches did maintain mosaic decorations
well into the Little Ice Age, perhaps best exemplified by St. Vitus Cathedral’s Last Judgment
mosaic dating from 1376 (created by Italian artists), although it has become so worn over the
ages that it had to be restored on multiple occasions (Jacobs 190). Therefore, a detailed study of
the history of northern exterior mosaic decoration based on surviving fragments, archaeological
Simmons 66
excavations near portals, and surviving textual evidence could provide important clues about
climate changes during the High Middle Ages. While the presence or lack of mosaics do not
necessarily provide a direct indication of climatic variables at a particular location, broad
geographic changes in mosaic decoration, particularly along borders between areas that were
exposed to the mosaic tradition and adjacent to heavily mosaiced areas during certain periods of
history, may prove crucial in providing clues about climate changes at the end of the
Romanesque period and beginning of the Gothic era.
Exterior Sculpture
Perhaps more prominent than outdoor paintings and mosaics, sculpture evolved into one
of the most important mediums of exterior decoration during the Romanesque era. In the Early
Medieval period, sculpture as an art form by itself had been very rare, primarily for doctrinal
reasons concerning the presence and worship of idols and the uncultivated sculptural traditions
of invaders and migrating cultures from northern Europe and Eurasia. However, the medium saw
a revival during the Romanesque era, and the facades of both great cathedrals and small churches
were often elaborately decorated with sculpted reliefs, lintel screens, tympanums, and jambs
illustrating biblical stories or concepts. Most common were last judgment tympanums, which
decorate the main portal entrances of the churches and cathedrals at Vezelay, Autun, and
Moissac. The sculpture medium was also expressed with a newfound enthusiasm of carved
figural capitals, which came to decorate both interior and exterior columns, and many niches and
blind columns near portals were also carved with scenes representing figures, grotesques, or an
architectural setting.
Climate may also be a factor in the treatment of the sculpted or reliefed façades of
Romanesque and Gothic cathedrals. Wachs indicates that sculptures in the north had to be
Simmons 67
protected from the elements more than those in the south—and this is best represented by the
encompassing protective niche and recessed portal or porch of the Gothic era, which provided
protection to both architectural and sculptural decoration on doors into the church (Wachs 83).
On the other hand, sculptures on major Italian Gothic cathedrals, while sometimes niched
(especially in the Early Renaissance period), were most likely to be exposed to the elements and
relatively unprotected. This can be readily demonstrated by the sculptures hanging off of the
duomos of Siena, Orvieto, and Milan. In addition, the entrances to many Italian Gothic churches
were neither recessed nor porched like portals in the north, providing a strong contrast in concern
for precipitation. In fact, Wachs argues that the portal in the north served to protect the door and
its exterior sculpture from the wearing effects of precipitation (84). Similarly, Wachs conjectures
that the niche, a semi enclosed, canopied space used to hold sculptures, was also used in northern
Europe to provide better protection for sculpted decoration from cathedral facades, while the
niche was often an architectural formality or completely lacking in the south due to a relative
lack of rain (85).
However, while these differences may be true for the Gothic era, during the Romanesque
period the amount of exterior exposure of sculptural decoration was much the same for both
northern and southern Europe. The exterior facades of northern European churches were often
very poorly recessed, sometimes by only a few inches, which would have exposed reliefs and
stone sculptures placed in the doorway to the deleterious effects of precipitation and capillary
attraction. Wachs attributes this to the process of architectural innovation and the fact that
Romanesque walls could only be recessed to the thickness of the wall (which had to be limited)
(85). However, Romanesque architects were certainly able to provide niches or niche-like
protections (such as at St. Trophime and St. Gilles-du-Gard in Arles) and they often did not
Simmons 68
choose to do so. Additionally, some Romanesque churches, primarily those located in southern
France and northern Italy, had developed a method of recessed portal decoration that easily
compares to that of the Gothic era—the triumphal arch façade (Altet 70). Art historians have
largely attributed the use of this arch motif to the influence of Ancient Roman remains in
southern France, and indeed many southern Romanesque facades were closely inspired by the
classicism of the past (as is evidenced by the use of traditional Corinthian columns designs
(rather than Medieval figural capitals) and classical-inspired sculpture). The two churches of St.
Trophime and St-Gilles-du-Gard in Arles probably best represent this kind of Romanesque
classicism, and the exterior portals of these churches, extended beyond the wall itself, is carved
into the form of a relatively deeply recessed arch (70). Several Italian churches, such as at
Modena, Cremona, Piacenza, and Verona, also maintained a deeply recessed, arched portals (70).
Other portals examples similar in design and protection to the above triumphal arch motif can be
seen in the front entrances of St. Pierre in Moissac and, recessed to a lesser extent, St. Foy in
Conques (both in southern France). However, these architectural elements, while providing
better protection for portal sculptures from the elements, were not likely built to protect the
church façade from precipitation, as is evidenced by the high exposure of the lintel screen
sculptures to the rain (at St.-Gilles-du-Gard, St. Trophime, and Modena Cathedral) and the
projection of the lion sculptures at the bases of columns at St. Zeno (Verona), St. Trophime
(Arles), and Modena Cathedral outside of the arch portal. However, most sculpted reliefs and
facades in southern France were unprotected like those in the north, as can be illustrated by St.
Michel d’Aiguilhe in Le Puy (southern France) and Notre Dame du Port in Clermont-Ferrand
(central France). In the latter case, an awning had to be provided at a later time to protect
exposed Gothic sculpture from wearing (Altet 124)
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While classical influences and remnants of ancient triumphal arches were not nearly as
prevalent in the north as in the south, some classical remnants were used on Romanesque facades
(as is evident from the use of classical relief sculptures at Beaujou), indicating some knowledge
of classical ideas (70). In addition, the spreading of architectural ideas from the south to the
north, and vice versa, along pilgrimage routes would have likely transported the idea of a
triumphal arch façade from places like Moissac and Arles to other areas of northern Europe.
However, the recessed arch portal is not seen in the north, where it would have been more likely
needed given the theoretically greater degree of colder weather and more frequent precipitation
in this region. In addition, better protected for northern portals did not develop despite the use of
closed porches further north in Burgundy at the church of Madeleine in Vezelay (north central
France) during the Twelfth Century, built over the central portal to provide better
accommodation for pilgrims (121). Other parts of the façade, however, indicate that the effects
of precipitation did not figure prominently in the construction of the church; for example, the
west and south portals and portal sculptures are poorly recessed and inadequately sheltered. A
porch was also built over the façade of Notre Dame du Puy en Velay, another important
pilgrimage church, for similar reasons in the late Twelfth centuries (well before climate change
would have likely been prevalent in this region of southern France). Therefore, clearly
Romanesque architects in some regions achieved portals and architectural decoration, and the
lack of further portal and façade protection cannot be attributed to an overall lack of
technological prowess or architectural ignorance.
The development of porches and recessed portals in central and southern France,
however, did not seem to have much sway across northern Europe despite their potential
usefulness. The poor portal and sculptural shelter offered in the north throughout the
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Romanesque period is readily demonstrated by poorly recessed portals and unniched sculptures
and reliefs at Anzy-le-Duc, Neuilly-en-Donjon, Foussais, Vouvant, and Donzy-le-Pre in France,
along with St. Mary in Patrickbourne, Kipeck church in Heredforshire, Rochester, and the Lady
Chapel in Glastonbury in England (as well as many other examples on surviving Romanesque
facades throughout northern Europe). In addition, painting was likely added to the sculpture
decorations on some of these churches, and in the example of Donzy-le-Pre, some of this exterior
paint survives on the poorly sheltered tympanum.
In addition, sculptures placed higher up on the facades of churches and cathedrals are
also poorly protected, frequently unniched or placed underneath a thin arch that afforded less
protection from the elements than later methods of sculptural sheltering. For example, the west
front sculptures of Angouleme Cathedral are particularly exposed to the forces of rain and wind,
projecting off the relatively flat sides of the building similar to Italian churches (like Siena
Cathedral). The west front of Notre Dame la Grande in Poitiers looks very similar, with some
additional protection provided by narrow half-circle arches placed over several of the façade
sculptures, but most of the sculptures were left highly exposed (and are now extremely worn). A
closer examination of the wearing of considerably exposed (and unaltered) Romanesque
sculptures might be able to provide more clues about the rates of sculptural dissolution and thus
climate change, especially if the time periods of greatest deterioration can be determined from
examining the sculpture. In general, the lack protection for sculptures on church facades, the
poor recession of portals (when the architectural precedents for deep portal depressions had
already been established in the form of triumphal arches and porches in parts of southern and
central France), the failure to use niche canopies and similar protection for sculptures, and the
use of paint on some of these exposed sculptures, suggests that architects and artists in the north
Simmons 71
were not terribly concerned with the effects of rain on church facades during the Medieval Warm
Period. Similarly, this also suggests that the climate of the Romanesque era was much more
uniform across Europe and relatively mild and dry from southern England to Italy.
However, as noted by Wachs, the coming of the Gothic era provided important changes
in the treatment of architectural portals. At first, the changes were gradual, and during the Early
Gothic era portal recessions on many churches did not deviate significantly from those of the
past. For example, the west front portal of St. Denis Basilica (built in the 1130s and 1140s) is
recessed slightly more than many of the examples given above, but even so its exterior reliefs
(and the jamb sculptures that were also placed here at one point) are relatively highly exposed to
the elements, and indeed, St. Denis’s portal does not appear much more recessed than that of the
Romanesque church of St. George in Normandy. The Royal Portal of Chartres, one of the
highlights of Early Gothic Art (constructed slightly after St. Denis), is also prominently exposed
to the elements (and also the most worn of the portals of this particular cathedral). Additionally,
the sculptures placed on this façade generally lack niche protection. The exterior portals of Notre
Dame de Paris, built in the mid to late 1100s, are somewhat more recessed than St. Denis and
Chartres and notably more so than most Romanesque churches. By the early 1200s the north and
south transept portals of Chartres Cathedral were built, and these are substantially more recessed
than Notre Dame. Although both the north and south transepts possess sculptures that hang
outside on the front of the cathedral, beyond the shelter provided by the porch, much of the
sculptures inside the portals have remained relatively intact due to the protection provided by the
recession of the portal. Additionally, the sculptures on these portals also possess substantial
niche canopies that afford greater protection (but these niches provide relatively little enclosure).
Reims, an Early Rayonnant church, was provided with portals that were deeply recessed and
Simmons 72
sculptures that are substantially niched, and most of sculptural decoration was contained to the
portal protective area or niches rather than hanging out (like seen in Chartres and in Italian
churches). However, some sculptures placed around the exterior of the choir were also unniched.
Amiens and Beauvais constrained sculptures even more carefully to the recessed portal and
designated niches, and by the Late Gothic era sculptures were generally heavily recessed within
portals and protected sometimes, such as at St. Maclou in Rouen, by protective tracery acting as
a canopy over the portal itself. Similarly, St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna contains all of its
sculptures to the recession of the portals. In addition, porches were also occasionally used, such
as at the Late Gothic church of St. Germain l’Auxerrois in Paris, and these serve to protect the
church portal façade and its variety of sculptures (both over the portal and on the porch
columns). In the case of St. Germain l’Auxerrois, all of the sculptures are also niched and given
deep, enclosed recessions in the walls. This contrasts strongly with the unniched portal
sculptures of earlier Gothic churches, such as at the Royal Portal of Chartres and St. Denis, as
well as the limited canopied niches (which were accompanied by canopies only and provided no
protective enclosing) such as those of the north and south transepts of Chartres. In addition, the
evolution of the niche itself from the flat canopy tops of Notre Dame de Paris (St. Anne Portal)
or dome-like canopies provided at Chartres to the pinnacle protected (allowing for better greater
shedding of rain for these thin stone canopy structures) and partially wall-recessed niches of St.
Germain l’Auxerrois and on the exterior of the Vendome chapel of Chartres might also be
significant in terms of the protection afforded to sculpture due to precipitation concerns.
This slow evolution of portal recession and porches and sculpture placement on facades,
along with the development of the niche device, all suggests that through the course of the
Gothic age architects were increasingly taking into account the need to protect sculptures from
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the elements and particularly from the corrosive effects of a damp, rainy (or snowy) climate. The
contrast from St. Germain l’Auxerrois to the Romanesque predecessors of other churches proves
to be rather remarkable. It is therefore not surprising that some Gothic architects would try to
modify the portals over Romanesque portals to provide better protection, as is evidenced by the
west front of St. Stephen’s in Vienna, which maintained a relatively flat and unrecessed sculpted
portal in the Romanesque era which was later covered by an elaborate Gothic porch during the
Late Gothic period. Also notable is the fact that most Gothic exterior sculptures (and probably
throughout much of the Gothic age) were not painted, departing somewhat from the tradition of
the Romanesque period. This might suggest that rainfall had become prevalent enough in the
north by the mid to late 1100s to exclude the viability of painting sculptures, and particularly the
Romanesque sculptures that were heavily exposed to the elements. By the Late Gothic era,
cavernous portals and porches served as protectors for pilgrims, unpainted sculptures, and the
door façade itself, and they also provided their own architectural aesthetic effect.
English facades demonstrate a similar pattern in the development of exterior sculpture
protection during the Gothic era. Wells Cathedral, dating largely from the early 1200s, provides
a prominent example of a relatively unprotected sculpted façade; while sculptures are placed in
relatively enclosed shelters on some parts of the façade (more so than Angouleme, perhaps
reflecting its more northerly climate and the increasingly cold conditions of the Thirteenth
century), in others parts (such as directly above the front doors) they are highly exposed in a
manner nearly equivalent to the Romanesque sculptures of Notre Dame la Grande in Poitiers and
St. Pierre in Angouleme. The high exposure of these sculptures also likely account for some of
their significant wear over the ages compared to the sculptures in the transept portals of Chartres
(which were better protected and are better preserved). Salisbury Cathedral (built slightly later in
Simmons 74
the Decorated Style), on the other hand, corrected some of the protection issues at Wells by
providing relatively enclosed spaces to each sculpture placed on the façade (although these
enclosures are not as well canopied as niches).
However, despite the evolution of the treatment of sculptures, portals, and niches in the
north, southern Europe, and particularly Italy, experienced few of these changes. The duomos of
Orvieto, Siena, and Florence all possess portals that are similarly recessed to Early Gothic and
Late Romanesque portals in the North, maintaining west fronts closer in relation to St. Denis and
the Royal Portal of Chartres than the portals of Reims and Amiens. In addition, these cathedrals
also possess exterior sculpture that hangs off the facades or remains unprotected and relatively
unniched, remarkably demonstrated at the Duomo of Siena. Spanish portals were also less well
protected from the elements, such as the sculptures hanging off the poorly recessed portal
(almost like that of the Royal Portal of Chartres) of the South Transept of Burgos Cathedral
(built in the mid 1200s, at the time of Reims’ deep recession) (Prache 188). Similarly, the poor
recession of the Sixteenth century west portal of Salamanca, which is covered in sculptures, also
reveals that this trend in Mediterranean architecture was sustained throughout the entire Gothic
period (215).
However, in the transalpine northern part of Italy, where weather likely became rainier
due to greater numbers of baroclinic storms, niches and sculpture protection also appeared to be
more important. For example, on the facades of San Marco, many Romanesque-Byzantine reliefs
appear to be relatively well exposed to the elements. The fact that most of this sculpture appears
to be located outside of the protection of the deeply recessed Romanesque portals achieved by
church architects seems to indicate that sculptural protection during this era was not a priority.
By contrast, deeply recessed niches are used to protect all exterior sculpture on the west front of
Simmons 75
the church of later Gothic church Madonna del Orto, and even some of the sculptures added later
to the upper church of San Marco were placed under pinnacled canopies. By the mid-Thirteenth
century, painted sculptural decoration on the exterior façade of the basilica of San Marco was
moved to a more secure location within the recessed portals, perhaps due to the increasing
rainfall and cold weather potentially seen during this era. In addition, sometimes niches were
added in later eras to protect preexisting and exposed sculptures, such as the deeply enclosed
Renaissance niche placed around a Romanesque-era turbaned statue of a Moor (in Campo dei
Mori) (Zuffi 85). However, other parts of northern Italy show less immediate concern for
protecting sculpture, as illustrated by Milan cathedral and the sculptures protruding, fully
exposed to the elements, from the spires and buttresses of the cathedral. Thus, in general, an
analysis of sculptures, portal recession, and niches over time may prove useful in determining
climate type as well as climate variation that occurred in regions during the Early Gothic age.
Windows and Interior Decoration
Windows are another essential feature of church architecture. They provide light that
illuminates the interior decoration of a church, often artistic scenes of biblical stories decorating
the walls, niches, capitals, or on the windows themselves. They also provide safe passage for
churchgoers and pilgrims, and, as Abbé Suger suggests, “luminous windows” and other artworks
express the spiritual essence of the Church and lift believers to the “True Light” (Panofsky 44).
But as the primary means of interior illumination, windows are also important in climate studies
as well, as their size, shape, and glass-type are important in determining the amount of solar
radiation, both direct and diffuse, that can be transmitted into a church. Thus, with this in mind,
window size and other features of windows can be used broadly to characterize certain aspects of
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historical climate and climate change, since the best methods of interior lighting often change
with increasing cloudiness or sunshine as well as with the intensity of the sunshine present.
Window Size and Placement
Extending back into Ancient architectural history, Classical Greek temples, surrounded
by rows of columns necessary to support the low-inclined roof structure, were often poorly lit
and required artificial lighting (usually fire-based). However, architecture evolved through the
Roman period toward the late classical basilican form, perhaps best characterized by the
churches of Santa Sabina in Rome and Sant’Appolinare in Classe and Sant’Appolinare in Nuove
in Ravenna. These basilicas, with their row of windows on their upper clerestory walls, seem
perfect for the Mediterranean environment, with small, high-position windows able to train
intense, direct radiation from the sun into the center of the building. Sant’Appolinare in Nuovo
in Ravenna also has a second row of ground-floor windows on its south side, which, like other
examples in basilican and Romanesque architecture, allows more light to penetrate the building
from the south (where the sun is always located during midday relative to its 40°N latitude),
especially effective for winter lighting (Kleiner 231-237).
Like Classical and Early Medieval basilicas, churches from the Romanesque period also
possessed windows that were often small and placed higher up on the walls of the church (mostly
above eye level) (Wachs 46). Regional variations are readily apparent within the Romanesque
architectural style, with some northern churches, such as St. Georges at St Martin-de-
Boscherville (in Upper Normandy), maintaining window sizes and coverage (in both the upper
and lower levels of the church) far surpassing those seen in the Mediterranean, and some
northern Romanesque German churches near the Cologne region (some built well into the Early
Gothic era of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries) also maintained larger window sizes. Such
Simmons 77
factors may be due to the likely cloudier and rainier climate of far northern Europe as a result of
oscillations in the mean northern jet (which would have been likely, especially in the winter), but
on average windows in Romanesque sacred buildings were greatly limited in both size and
coverage.
These small windows, like their classical counterparts, were efficient in providing light to
church interiors under the influence of strong solar radiation. Unfortunately, in order for the
churches built under the Romanesque style to maintain a high ceiling, architects were forced to
construct bulky, thick walls to support the large interior barrel vaults, and these walls could only
support relatively small and scattered windows in a few isolated locations within these buildings.
Therefore, the exact placement of windows within the Romanesque churches was closely
considered by architects during the Central Middle Ages, and the position of these windows can
reveal much about the nature of interior lighting during this period.
For example, most large Romanesque churches and cathedrals built during the
Romanesque era were planned in a more typical symmetrical fashion, with an equal number of
windows on all sides of the cathedral (such as seen in the massive Cathedral of St. Sernin in
Toulouse, France and Santiago della Compostela in Compostela, Spain). However, smaller
country Romanesque churches and a even few larger city churches pushed aside the balance of
symmetry and used window placement strategically in order to ensure the best penetration of
light in a building where opportunities for lighting were limited. Similar to the Mediterranean
architecture of classical and post-classic Rome (such as Early Christian Sant Appolinare in
Nuovo in Ravenna and Romanesque Santa Maria in Cosmedin in Rome), many of these churches
placed the most windows on the southern side of the cathedral, where the sun is almost always
located during midday relative to its northern latitude. For example, Notre Dame du Port in
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Clermont-Ferrand (central France) uses this kind of window placement by putting most lighting
in the southern nave and transept walls (Altet 125). Similarly, Modena cathedral in northern Italy
demonstrates a similar strategic window placement, with the majority of upper and lower level
windows placed on the southern side of the church to provide the best interior lighting (177).
Windows were also prominently used on the west facades and choirs to provide efficient lighting
during the mornings and evenings, with fewer windows placed on the northern nave and
transepts of the building (and those that were placed there were often used for diffuse
illumination of wall frescoes or mosaics). This window arrangement pattern suggests that the
primary lighting for church interiors during the Romanesque period depended largely on the
presence of solar radiation, which in turn indicates that both northern and southern Europe saw
abundant sunshine (or at least enough to provide ample interior lighting) during this period of
architectural history. This makes sense given the northern displacement of the mean jet stream
toward central and northern Scandinavia during the Medieval Warm Period, which would have
provided much of northern, central, and southern Europe a characteristically warm, relatively dry
and sunny Mediterranean climate.
Other evidence of the importance of sunlight in lighting cathedral interiors can be found
in contemporary documents. For example, Honorius of Autun (Burgundy, north-central France),
who wrote on the symbolic meaning of church architecture itself, specifically indicates that solar
radiation was particularly important in church lighting. According to Altet, Honorius indicates
that “the transparent windows, which exclude the storm but allow in the light, are doctors who
fight heresies and spread the light of the Church’s teachings. The glass of the windows through
which the rays of light pass are the thoughts of the doctors, who perceive divine matters as if
through glass” (150). The references to rays of light, along with the stressed importance of
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transparent windows to provide the best lighting possible (with the relatively small window sizes
used in this architectural style), suggests that solar radiation was the dominant consideration in
window construction of these cathedrals. Thus, it makes sense that some northern churches and
cathedrals would be adapted to provide the efficient interior lighting by providing the most
window space to the southern wall, west transept, and choir. However, many churches
(especially in the far north) also likely included as many windows as possible on all walls to take
advantage of any kind of incoming solar radiation, both direct and diffuse, due to the limited
lighting provided by the relatively small window sizes. A more extensive survey of window
placement on northern and southern Romanesque country and city churches would provide a
further illustration of this trend, and similarly an analysis of changes in both window size and
placement through time (for example, along strong climate transition zones like central France)
also may provide important clues about the nature of climate change in a given region.
However, given conditions where only indirect or diffuse lighting prevails (such as under
frequent cloud cover), such strategic window placement becomes less necessary due to the
veiling of direct solar radiation, and the need to allow more light into interiors by expanding
window sizes and the number of windows present turns into the primary architectural concern.
And increasing dependence on diffuse lighting appears to be an important motivation behind
window expansion in the Gothic style, which was born and took its hold best in northern and
central Europe for likely strategic climate-related reasons. The “New Style” of Gothic
architecture itself, as the early Gothic choir of the Basilique de St. Denis illustrates, allowed for
the easy expansion of window size and window coverage along church walls. Accordingly,
during the first century of Gothic architecture windows began taking up more and more of the
total wall space of major churches and cathedrals, and in some cases (such as St. Chapelle de
Simmons 80
Paris) took up nearly all of the wall space. In addition, placement considerations appear to have
been less of an issue, with north and south naves and transepts often covered with windows in a
more symmetric fashion (as seen in the clerestory windows of Notre Dame de Paris) to allow all
available light to enter the building. Diffuse lighting also makes the position of prominent
windows in churches and cathedrals less important; whereas sunlight was often filtered into the
clerestory to provide additional lighting to the interior of Romanesque and Early Gothic
churches, under cloudy or otherwise low light conditions lower level windows were more
effective in bringing in light to the base of the church, and thus quantity and size of lower level
windows began to increase through the Gothic age. Also, windows appeared to expand down the
walls in many cases, with prominent windows during the Early Gothic style maintained in the
clerestory and ever larger windows in later cathedrals placed in the lower or mid levels of the
church. Some windows of later Gothic cathedrals, such as St. Urbaine at Troyes (France),
Gloucester Cathedral (England), and St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna (Austria), cross the
clerestory and descend deeper into the lower levels. By the Perpendicular and Flamboyant
Gothic periods (Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries), windows had expanded to take up the
majority of the available wall space, and some art historians even refer to churches and
cathedrals built under these styles as “glass cages” (Janson 318-319). And unlike in Romanesque
churches, little attention seems to have been given to the relative position of the sun in the
Northern Gothic style (with large windows symmetric and expanding on all sides of the church,
indicating the importance of diffuse light). The same pattern of window construction can be seen
in smaller country churches, which began to take on symmetrical window arrangements
(windows covering most of the southern and northern naves) along with adopting the
characteristic larger window sizes and coverage mandated by the Gothic style. While other
Simmons 81
factors, such as architectural innovation, clearly motivated this change in window construction,
and the timing of the expansion of window size and symmetry does not exactly mirror the
climactic paradigm shift experienced during the High Middle Ages, the general expansion of
window size from Romanesque to Gothic appears to reflect not only a desire but also a need for
more interior lighting.
Windows and Other Architectural Features: Flying Buttresses and Triforia
A closer look at the evolution of the triforium level from the Romanesque to Late Gothic
periods provides another important example of these potentially climate-related changes. The
triforium, often provided with a walking passage known as tribune or tribune gallery, was placed
in the middle or upper levels of a church, a convention established in Antiquity and used
frequently in basilicas and early Christian churches. In the Medieval Warm Period, Romanesque
triforia remained a prominent part of many churches and cathedrals; for example, Saint-Etienne
in Vignory (east central France), constructed in 1050, has a triforum level (with windows
confined above it in the clerestory) that dominates the middle third of the nave wall. Some
triforia dominated the clerestory, such as Ste-Foy in Conques and St-Sernin in Toulouse (which
limited window lighting of the nave and suggests that bright sunshine was prevalent enough to
provide interior lighting through the obstructed windows). However, a midlevel triforium was
the most commonly found in the tribune of major churches and cathedrals in the High
Romanesque style. Most of these churches, such as Sankt Cyriakus in Gernrode (Germany) or
Late Romanesque/Early Gothic Malmesbury Abbey, England, possessed triforia smaller than
those at Vignory, Conques, or St-Sernin, suggesting that the tribune gallery at the triforium level
remained an important part of the church during the late Romanesque period but also that
Simmons 82
clerestory and lower level windows were beginning to take on the most prominent position of
church interiors.
Through the Gothic era, the triforium level came to a gradual end with the introduction of
more and larger church windows. In the Early Gothic period, some churches, such as Notre
Dame de Paris and Durham Cathedral, possessed windows at the triforium level concealed
behind the extended gallery (which, as described earlier, limited the amount of lighting received
in the cathedral interior). Slightly later cathedrals built in the early to mid Thirteenth Century,
such as Chartres and Amiens, also maintained a prominent tribune gallery, although it was much
smaller relative to the size of the vaulted arches above the aisles and the clerestory-level
windows (a large contrast to the one-third division seen in early Romanesque triforia at
Vignory). As the Gothic style continued to develop in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, the
triforium level was further reduced (as in the case of the very short, narrow, and window-aligned
tribune in the Fifteenth Century basilica of St. Denis) or completely eliminated to allow for more
window space (Jansen 316). This is especially evident in later Gothic churches, such as at Troyes
Cathedral (France) or St. Stephen’s in Vienna, which completely lack triforia. Thus, the gradual
reduction and then elimination of the triforium level during the High and Late Medieval periods,
after its prevalent use in churches for the preceding thousand years, suggests that architects’
desire to provide more lighting to interior cathedrals trumped other conventions and
considerations. The triforium, on the other hand, simply obstructed light and the size of windows
rather than aided in it, and for these reasons it was slowly eliminated. This need for more light, in
turn, may easily be indirectly related to climate changes and the decrease of light associated with
the cloud cover of the northern jet stream shifting slowly southward over Europe.
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Flying buttresses were another significant factor limiting the amount of light entering
church interiors. When spaced close together, such as at Notre Dame de Paris, these features can
serve to shade different windows at certain times of the day, restricting the amount of incoming
radiation (especially during sunny days) (Figure). Because increased lighting was of utmost
importance to Medieval church architects, especially by the Late Gothic period, these features
had to be concealed or restricted in span. While regional-scale trends in flying buttress patterns
are harder to distinguish, and their importance as an exterior features has been previously
discussed, the slow reduction in the grandiosity and size of buttresses, first seen in attempts to
conceal them such as at Chartres Cathedral, resulted in fewer window obstructions on the
exterior facades of cathedrals. And the desire for more light might be directly responsible for the
repositioning of many of these support features. For example, the exterior façade of the Fifteenth
Century St. Denis contrasted with that of Notre Dame de Paris demonstrates these major
architectural changes. While Notre Dame uses large-scale flying buttresses between each
window that extend from the roof level to the ground, Fifteenth century St. Denis uses much
narrower flat projection buttresses extending from the façade of the west transept to support the
crossing vault thrust, and flying buttresses were projected out of the side of the rose to the east
and west to support the transept vault, partially obstructing two clerestory windows but leaving
the lower level windows completely exposed and unobstructed (and the massive rose window
makes up for any loss of lighting in the clerestory). Vertical wall-adjacent buttressing is also
used in St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna (as well as many other churches throughout northern
Europe) to ensure that the large windows stretching from the lower levels to the clerestory are
fully exposed. When flying buttresses were still used in the traditional manner, extending out
from between windows, they were often given a steeper drop angle, such as at Bath Abbey
Simmons 84
(England), or were widely spaced between ever larger windows, such as in St. Maclou (Rouen).
Some flying buttresses, such as those on Westminster Cathedral in London, were stretched from
the clerestory roof to the relatively high aisle roof, thus limiting buttresses to the clerestory level
and allowing better light penetration through the lower level windows. Therefore, the
repositioning of buttress features during the High and Late Medieval period also likely reflects
this desire for additional interior lighting, perhaps related to the decrease in total radiation
received and greater amount of indirect or diffuse radiation that was needed to keep cathedrals
well lit.
Windows, Lighting, and Interior Decoration
Window size, placement, and the intensity of radiation allowed into a church or cathedral
is also closely related to the kind of interior decoration found in sacred buildings. In fact, the
changes in the church aesthetic between the Romanesque and Gothic periods, along with the
evolution of windows, are among the most dramatic ever seen in the history of sacred
architecture (the two types of interiors appear at times completely opposed to each other). In
northern churches in particular, the flat, frescoed walls and ceilings of the Romanesque style
gave way to the vastly dissimilar barren, architecturally carved, often infrequently or completely
unpainted walls and vaults of the Gothic style. While these aesthetic changes are likely related to
gradual artistic evolution and the progression of taste, and they were often slow to occur and not
completed everywhere at the same time or in the same manner (for example, the some Flemish
churches and cathedrals continued to be decorated with wall paintings well into the Gothic and
Renaissance periods), they do indicate a dramatic break in architectural style corresponding to
the increases in window size and broad-scale climate change.
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Interior Mosaics
In particular, the two primary methods of large-scale interior decoration—mosaics and
frescoes—appear to be most closely associated with the amount and type of incoming light from
church windows. Light entering into Early Christian basilican churches through prominent
clerestory windows often reflects and scatters off sparkling mosaics placed in the spandrels (wall
space above supporting columns), which serve to redistribute radiation to other parts of the
church in the form of diffuse light. These midwall mosaics are particularly prominent in the
surviving examples of the Ravenna basilicas as well as in Santa Sabina in Rome. Mosaic
decoration was also prevalent during the Early Christian and Early Medieval periods in Italy,
Byzantium, as well as parts of Northern Europe. In particular, mosaics were popular in northern
Europe during the Carolingian period (700s-800s A.D.), as is evidenced by mosaic decoration
from Charlemagne’s palace and chapel in his capital at Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle), Germany and
in Germiny-des-Pres near Orleans in northern France (Anthony 152-153). Mosaics were also
likely used in the decorations of Early Medieval churches in Autun, Auxerre, Tours, and several
other locations. While the north did not maintain a strong mosaic tradition at any time in
Medieval history, another period of outgrowth in mosaic decoration took place in the Late
Romanesque style, during the heart of the Medieval Warm Period, in France, Germany, and
Spain (233). Unfortunately, none of these important works have survived (233).
However, despite this late Romanesque passion for the medium, mosaic decoration in the
north slowly fell out of favor by the High Middle Ages. Abbe Suger in his Adventium that
mosaic decoration had already ceased being used in the north during his time, and the lack of
surviving mosaic fragments in the north in early churches also attests to their rarity during the
Age of Cathedrals (with likely much greater prevalence during the Romanesque period in
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cathedrals now replaced by Gothic temples). By contrast, mosaic decoration continued to evolve
and remained popular during the High and Late Middle Ages in Italy and Byzantium (Oakeshott
41), as is evidenced by the comprehensive mosaic programs of St. Marks in Venice, with
decoration dating from the central Middle Ages through the Renaissance, as well as innovations
in mosaic art made by Cavallini in Santa Maria in Trastevere and Torriti in Santa Maria
Maggiore (202-207). Similarly, Greek mosaic programs were maintained in such places as
Daphni and Hosios Loukas in Greece during the High Middle Ages, attesting to the continued
popularity of mosaics in the hierarchical artistic schemes of Byzantine churches. The falling out
of mosaic art in the north can be attributed to a number of factors, including the high cost and
limited availability of mosaic tiles and mosaicists and the option of cheaper fresco decoration.
Italians and Greeks had also maintained a proud mosaic tradition since antiquity, and leftover
remnants this convention were perhaps largely due to these strong Classical influences.
However, the clear latitudinal geographic division between the two types of decoration,
especially after mosaics had become a relatively important medium in the north during the High
to Late Romanesque period, suggests that the monumental new Gothic styles were beginning to
use other means of decoration, perhaps partially because a reduction in direct solar radiation and
an increase diffuse light rendered the actual mosaic medium less brilliant and less effective in
providing interior lighting. Thus, the fact that many Italian and Greek cities maintained the
mosaic art form, while northern artisans abandoned it after a brief revival in the Romanesque
period, suggests that the mosaics acted as an effective medium for the Mediterranean climate in
that they were better able to light interiors receiving frequent direct solar radiation. In the north,
the slow reduction of solar insolation over time made the mosaics, as a medium, a less viable
option for interior decoration. A close analysis of available archaeological and documentary
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evidence would be needed to understand the extent of mosaic use in the north during the
Romanesque period and the exact time of transition between this medium and others.
Interior Frescoes
The evolution of fresco decoration within Northern cathedrals followed a similar pattern.
During the Romanesque Era in Northern Europe, many if not most nave walls and apses, such as
in Canterbury and Winchester Cathedrals in England, were decorated with fresco painting
similar to the Italian/Mediterranean tradition (Altet 170). A Romanesque interior was not
considered complete without frescoes, either figurative or decorative, covering its interior space
(Demus 65). Direct solar radiation coming through small and constrained Romanesque windows
would have been sufficient in illuminating these wall frescoes, which provided churchgoers with
a reinforced visual message concerning key biblical stories. Strong solar insolation filtering
through relatively small windows in the clerestory were also used to illuminate these important
wall frescoes stretched along the opposite nave wall or ceiling, and some Italian Romanesque
churches, such as San Giovanni in Porta Latina in Rome, contain their frescoes to the mid-level
nave and clerestory where they could perhaps be best illuminated by incoming light.
Similarly, in some northern examples, it is clear that the fresco decoration depended
specifically on solar radiation for illumination. For example, at St. Jakob’s church in
Regensburg, northern Germany, a church fresco of an angel is located along a church wall
between two windows and symbol of the sun, which subtly reveals the importance of direct solar
radiation in the illumination of the interior and these wall frescoes. More directly, the placement
of the frescoes at the mid and upper levels of the church, where they can be directly illuminated
by the relatively small clerestory windows (which provide the most prominent light source for
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the interior of the cathedral), reveals the importance of solar radiation in the illumination of the
cathedral.
However, given a Romanesque interior illuminated by diffuse radiation only, wall
frescoes, especially those at the middle and upper levels of the church, become, like mosaics,
less easily readable. Changes in wall painting during the beginning of the climate transition were
likely very subtle and gradual leading up to the final dissolution of fresco medium in the north.
For example, interior frescoes in France were often painted in with low albedo colors, such as
blues, greens, and ochres, during the early and high Romanesque period (Demus 41). In
particular, darker colors in French paintings were more likely to be found in the Central Middle
Ages; for example, at the Chapelle du Chateau des Moines in Berzé-la-Ville, the Abbatiale
Notre-Dame in St-Chef in north central France, and Notre Dame du Puy in southern France.
However, in the late Romanesque and early Gothic era many of these frescoes possessed more
white space, and the primary pigments of interior paintings became red, yellow, gold, and
sometimes light blue in France and Germany (41). In particular, yellow and gold colors would
have provided much more interior lighting than the darker blues, greens, and browns of early
Romanesque paintings. In addition, some churches were painted mostly white, white being a
high albedo color that would have provided better interior reflection of solar radiation to other
parts of the church (or at least produce the aura of interior brightness). The change in fresco
colours to brighter colours (even at a time when church windows were not expanding), could be
indicative of subtle climate change in which church architects and artists were increasingly
becoming concerned with interior lighting and sought to maximize it by providing higher albedo
colours and surfaces to the church interior.
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By contrast, any white painting space was virtually unheard of in the south, and many
frescoes, such as those at St. Clemente (Rome, Italy), Sant’Angelo in Formis in Capua (Calabria,
Italy), and Cavallini’s fresco in St. Cecilia (Rome), possessed primarily dark colors, including
prominent blues and grays in the background (42). Other examples can be seen in the dark-
background frescoes of San Sebastiano in Tivoli (Lazio), San Paolo in Spoleto (Umbria),
Abbazia San Pietro in Valle (Umbria), San Pietro in Tuscania (Tuscany), Oratorio di San
Sebastiano in San Giovanni in Laterano (Rome, Lazio), Basilica Sant’Anastasio in Castel
Sant’Elia di Nepi (Lazio), and Santa Maria in Grotta in Rongolise (Campania). The Italian
frescoes most likely to possess broad areas of white space and lighter colors (such as yellow and
gold) were often painted in the transalpine north during the Late Romanesque period, such as at
Torre San Zeno in Verona and Aquileia Cathedral (dark crypt). Similarly, the most likely regions
to maintain a darker colour Romanesque fresco tradition in France were located in the south, as
is evidenced by the Crucifixion fresco at Notre Dame du Puy, although even this fresco, while
having a dark blue background, maintained a broad surface of brilliant golds and light browns.
Thus, changes in fresco colors over time, while perhaps mostly related to available
pigmentation, individual and patron aesthetic tastes, the desire to provide better contrast for
viewing purposes, and external influences (for example, from the rich colors of Byzantium in the
Near East), on a broader scale may be indirectly connected to the amount of incoming light
available to reach church interiors. Darker colors, such as deep blues and greens, were more
acceptable to southern interiors, where intense and frequent solar radiation illuminated church
interiors and were capable of adequately lighting these dark frescoes (as well as the church
interior), whereas lighter or even shimmering colors (like gold) were better suited at higher
latitudes where sunshine was not as strong or prevalent. Additionally, as the climate in the north
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slowly changed during the Late Romanesque period from a warm, dry Mediterranean climate to
a more temperate climate, fresco decorations appeared to become lighter (with more white-
painted wall space provided) to provide the visible appearance of a brighter interior.
At the very beginning of the Gothic era, wall paintings continued to be an important
interior medium, as suggested by Abbe Suger’s commissioning of a wall painting for his
renovated cathedral at St. Denis. He specifically mentions using brilliant gold colors, which,
although perhaps painted to the Abbe Suger’s extravagant tastes, did probably serve to provide a
brighter interior (Panofsky 86). Climactically speaking, this might indicate that the wall fresco
was still a viable decorative option at this time, the early-mid Twelfth century, before the
Medieval Warm period had come to a close and also before window sizes had expanded to the
extent that they did in later centuries. However, as the Gothic era progressed, larger windows and
their related architectural decoration (which also communicated a spiritual message) were
beginning to take the place of wall frescoes in many churches. By contrast, in southern Europe
the tradition of wall frescoes remained strong through the late Medieval period and the
Renaissance (with prominent examples of High and Late Medieval wall fresco decoration
provided by the duomos of Orvieto and Siena and the basilica of San Francesco in Assisi).
Also, the expansion of windows in and of itself likely required a reduction in wall fresco
decoration. For example, in one-aisled Romanesque churches such as in the Loire Valley, small
windows in the clerestory pierced the fresco decoration and provided direct illumination of these
paintings. Much larger windows at this level would greatly reduce the amount of space available
for large-scale fresco cycles that would be easily visible from the ground. In the case of three-
aisle or multiple aisle churches, the presence of windows closer to the ground required that the
columns and vaults or wall space separating an aisle from the nave be elevated to allow more
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light penetration into the main body of the church. This was accomplished through taller pointed-
arch vaulting and the complete elimination of most of the wall space between aisles and the nave
(and permanent use of columns, often smaller than the bulky columns of the Romanesque style
seen in St. Madeline, Vezelay, France or St. Sernin in Toulouse). The greater size and elevation
of open spaces between the aisles and nave, while allowing more light in the cathedral, also
limited the scope of aisle wall and mid-wall frescoes in the nave. The vaulting, pointed arches,
and columns (and carved tracery) between the aisles and the nave, which defined the edges of
these enlarged openings, in turn provided an architectural aesthetic that filled the artistic void
associated with the loss of interior decoration. Thus, it appears that the rapid expansion of
windows in the Gothic style mandated the reduction in wall painting in many churches at the
aisle, mid-wall, and clerestory levels. Additionally, the continued use of smaller window sizes in
Mediterranean churches, even those built using the Gothic style, allowed Italian churches to
maintain their strong fresco decoration (perhaps best represented by the elaborate fresco cycles
in the Basilica di San Francesco in Assisi).
Stained Glass
The transition from wall frescoes to stained glass to tracery during the Thirteenth and
Fourteenth centuries was very gradual, as was the associated climate change that likely
encouraged some of these changes. As previously discussed, the first notable transformation
connected to the Gothic style was the massive expansion of window space, which had previously
been impossible in the Romanesque style (which mandated thick walls that could only be
penetrated by comparatively small windows in order to maintain the structural stability of the
building). This change in and of itself was gradual, starting with the smaller windows in the choir
of St. Denis, barely larger than some of the larger Romanesque windows being constructed at the
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time in Normandy, and reaching its peak during the Rayonnant Gothic style in the early and mid
Thirteenth century (Amiens, Beauvais, and Chartres), well before the full effects of the Little Ice
Age were felt. While lighting from direct solar radiation was likely decreasing associated with
the slow southward displacement of the mean position of the polar jet, this change would not
likely have been as severe as the dramatic increase in window size seen during this period of
Gothic architectural history. Indeed, nonclimactic considerations likely account for much of the
philosophy surrounding the expansion of window size, such as the popular association of the
lighting of interiors with the “True Light” of God (mentioned specifically by Abbé Suger) along
with the expansion of cathedral size and height (the new architecture, with the invention of flying
buttresses that allowed churches to stretch higher toward the heavens than ever before, created
more wall space that needed to be filled by decorative elements, and large, pointed-arched
windows themselves served to fill the void).
However, another important factor associated with interior lighting was the increased and
widespread use of stained glass, and particularly deep, low transparency colors, such as dark
reds, greens, and blues, in the late Twelfth and Thirteenth centuries. This kind of decoration
became particularly popular in the windows of Northern European churches and cathedrals,
spreading quickly from France into Britain and then to other parts of northern and central
Europe. Even though the stained glass medium had already appeared during the Romanesque
period (usually on larger windows on the west front or choir), it became most prominent in Early
Gothic architecture (starting with St. Denis) and gradually replaced wall frescoes and mosaics as
the primary means of communicating biblical stories. The increased use of stained glass had a
variety of spiritual and philosophical justifications; for example, Abbe Suger believed light
filtered through the colorful stories of the bible to be divine light (Wood). However, the use of
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stained glass also makes sense from a climate change point of view. While wall frescoes and
wall mosaics were poorly illuminated under increasingly cloudy conditions or were done away
with upon the expansion of window space, superimposing similar scenes on the windows
themselves provided a mosaic-like aesthetic substitute that was ensured to tell a visual story
when receiving both direct and diffuse radiation.
The deeper colors of Early Gothic stained glass windows, however, limited the amount of
radiation that could penetrate into cathedral interiors. Thus, it follows naturally that clear glass,
high transparency Romanesque windows actually transmit more radiation into church interiors
than Gothic windows of the same size. Therefore, with a low transparency stained glass medium
in place, window sizes had to be increased more dramatically over time in order to let more light
into church and cathedral interiors. Thus, the smaller size of St. Denis’s windows, and the
prevalent use of low transparency stained glass in them, required that Abbe Suger fill the walls
of his cathedral choir with an abundance of windows in order to provide additional interior
lighting. And the expansion of window size during the Rayonnant period in stained glass
churches and cathedrals also appears less dramatic in terms of their increase in interior lighting
(as with darker stained glass colors, the increase in transmitted radiation would have been rather
small in most cathedrals). This is especially evidenced by the interior lighting of Notre Dame de
Chartres, the only cathedral from this period in history to maintain almost all of its original
stained glass. These windows, which have been dubbed as “Chartres blue” for their deep, dark
indigo colors, have a particularly low average transmissivity, and on cloudy days the interior is
not much lighter than Northern Romanesque cathedrals of a similar size (despite the very large
scale of many of Chartres lower level and clerestory windows). Thus, clearly the widespread use
of stained glass as a new medium of visual communication and splendor mandated the expansion
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of windows in order to provide a greater amount of interior illumination. Also, where stained
glass was less prevalent, such as smaller country or city churches, window sizes were often
smaller as well (Freeman 14, Brabbs 18). Comparative pyranometer measurements taken within
Romanesque and Early Gothic cathedrals with original stained glass on both cloudy and sunny
days might be more helpful in determining the exact amount of increase in solar radiation
maintained by church interiors during the Rayonnant Gothic period.
The construction of Gothic windows, window tracery, and the nature of the stained glass
used in Northern European windows also evolved through the Gothic era. In many cases,
windows continued to increase in size, sometimes taking up much of the interior wall space
(such as at Troyes Cathedral); however, deeper stained glass colors were gradually replaced by
lighter-colored stained glass windows or stained glass windows with larger scenes and more
clear space to allow greater light transmission (Brisac 83). For example, lighter sky blues and
reds were often used, along with abundant light colored glass associated with the skin placed on
figures. In addition, while early and mid Thirteenth century glass colors looks best under solar
radiation (and remain readable but poorly illuminated and provide poor interior lighting during
cloudy conditions), Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and even Sixteenth century stained glass often appears
brightly illuminated during cloudy days as well and provides adequate interior illumination at all
times. This is especially evident in Chartres cathedral when contrasting the darker Thirteenth
Century stained glass windows with the much brighter, higher transmissivity Vendôme Chapel
window (of a similar size as the Early Gothic two lancet windows) dating from the Fifteenth
Century. Similarly, Fourteenth Century stained glass windows in St. Serevin contain larger
figures and scenes surrounded by substantially more clear space than the low transmissivity
panels covered with dark-colored glass from churches such as the Royal Chapel of St. Chapelle
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dating from only a century before. This same kind of pattern is also visible in rose windows
when comparing deeper colored rose windows from the Early Gothic and Rayonnant periods,
such as the North Transept Rose Window of Notre Dame or the three roses of Chartres, with the
much clearer, lighter colored Fourteenth century north rose window of Tours. In some very late
Gothic chapels, such as St. Chapelle du Château de Vincennes, stained glass was limited to a few
windows while others were kept white.
Also, in England the glass evolved to contain more white space, as evidenced by the
stained glass nearly as dark as in Chartres in the Trinity Chapel of Canterbury (the St. Thomas a
Becket window here dates from the Early Gothic period, and it is nearly as dark as the windows
of Chartres, although it has a few more smaller, white individual glass plates to provide more
sunlight than those seen in France). The stained glass from the Fourteenth Century Lady Chapel
of Wells Cathedral is somewhat brighter than the Thomas a Becket window, but the later stained
glass of Westminster Cathedral and neighboring St. Margaret’s church in London are even
brighter and have much more white space. In addition, the massive Golden Window of Wells
Cathedral, which has much more white space and uses abundant, high transparency yellow
colored-glass (during a time when France continued to use a somewhat lower transparency
stained glass—such as in the rose window of Tours), suggests that England was also in the
vanguard in introducing high transparency glass in the early Fourteenth Century. This also makes
sense from a climatic perspective, as the England would have been the first kingdom to come
under the influence of the cloudier jet stream as it moved south at the close of the Medieval
Warm Period. Perpendicular churches from the late Gothic era often have even lighter stained
glass with more white space. And in general, the increase in the translucency of the stained glass,
or an increases in clear space, accompanied by the continued presence of large glass windows
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helped provide even more light into church and cathedral interiors at a time when cooling and a
southward-shifted jet stream likely provided more cloudy days over Northern Europe.
With a reduction of narrative stained glass usage and an increase in clear window space,
something had to provide additional decorative aesthetic, and this is seen as an explosion of new
and elaborate tracery designs in Late Gothic windows. Early Gothic windows, such as those
constructed at St. Denis in the first comprehensive expression of this “New Style,” were
relatively untraceried, with colorful stained glass panels dominating window compositions. In
these early windows, different panel shapes, arrangements, and extremely thin metal divisions
between panels formed the most important elements of window decoration. Similar simplified
tracery designs are seen in Rayonnant windows at St. Chapelle, Tours, and the stained glass
windows of Chartres, with foil tracery being the most elaborate stone decoration and low
transparency stained glass dominating the majority of the available window space. However, as
Gothic windows evolved from Rayonnant to Flamboyant, and as windows were filled with more
white space (or simply kept clear), then more tracery began to be used as a decorative element in
the place of stained glass. Some window designs, such as the West Front window of Southwell
Minster in England, are so heavily traceried that a comprehensive, narrative stained glass
program like those seen at Chartres and other Rayonnant cathedrals could not be possible
(Freeman 109). These kinds of windows were more likely to be decorated with figural stained
glass—with each glass panel space representing one figure, one design, or a large scene--and
often containing lighter colored, more translucent glass (such as light blues or bright reds) or
white space justified through the depiction of figures’ skin (lighter colors were also provided so
that greater drawn dark-colored details in the figures could be more readily seen). The southern
porch rose of Lincoln Cathedral, along with the rose of the Flamboyant church of St. Maclou in
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Rouen also provide prominent examples of late Gothic architecture in which window tracery
becomes the primary decorative element and the stained glass, much lighter in color and
translucent than earlier forms of the medium, takes second place in the decorative scheme. The
lightening of stained glass, the increase in clear space in the windows, and the use of more
elaborate, thin tracery that inhibits comprehensive stained glass programs as seen in earlier
cathedrals and fills the decorative void (without severely reducing incoming solar radiation),
served to allow more light into Gothic churches and cathedrals at a time when interior lighting
relied more on weaker diffuse light underneath cloud cover during the beginning of the Little Ice
Age.
While northern stained glass demonstrates a gradual increase in brightness, first readily
apparent in England at Wells Cathedral and quickly becoming brighter in northern France, Italian
stained glass, however rare (wall frescoes and mosaics were still an climactically optimal and
culturally appealing medium in Italy), showed little signs of brightening during its brief period of
use on the peninsula. In fact, the Fourteenth century stained glass windows of the Basilica of San
Francesco in Assisi, while possessing some white space, has primarily darker colors such as deep
yellows, blue-grays, and even dark reds and browns. Unlike northern stained glass from this time
period, the figures do not expand to take up more panel space (which justifies more white space).
Instead, the colourful individual scenes or figures remain small and paneled much like the
narrative scenes at Chartres (which, in turn, serves to decrease radiation transmittance). This is
also readily apparent when viewing the small scenes of Orvieto Duomo’s Fourteenth century
stained glass east window, which is also broken into small panel scenes in the traditional Early
Gothic sense (Macadam Umbria 249). Siena’s rose window is not broken into small scenes but
does have medium transparency stained glass with blues, reds, and yellows predominating and
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very little white space. Thus, the use of stained glass was much rarer in Italy than in the north,
but when it was used it often maintained glass at low to moderate transmittance into the
Fourteenth century.
Notre Dame de Paris, St. Denis, and Wells Cathedral: A Holistic Analysis of Increased Light Transmission in the North
Although many art and architectural historians argue that larger Gothic windows
naturally resulted from aesthetic, theological, and philosophical trends during the High Middle
Ages. However, along with the architectural possibility of window expansion afforded by the
new style (provided by support innovations like flying buttresses), the prospect that climate
change might have also been a factor in Gothic window design is reflected by the changes in
window arrangement and placement with respect to other architectural features within churches
and cathedrals. Today’s Basilique de St. Denis, built partly in the mid Twelfth Century and
redone in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, provides a perfect example of the contrast
between earlier window size and placement and the treatment of windows during the later Gothic
Era. St. Denis’s choir offers an example of the earliest Gothic style, with relatively small, low
transparency stained glass windows providing the majority of the interior lighting for the
cathedral and the west front covered by Romanesque-like windows strips and a small oculus.
Another early gothic construction, Notre Dame de Paris, further illustrates this trend—
relatively limited windows (especially compared to later cathedrals) were placed high in the
clerestory. Another level of windows was provided in the triforium of Notre Dame; however, the
presence of a wide tribune gallery level served to limit the lighting efficiency of windows
positioned behind them. A few windows were also placed in the lower nave, some likely
expanded during a later renovation of this part of the cathedral. However, these windows are
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generally smaller in size and sparser in coverage than the lower-level windows of later Gothic
cathedrals, and like most later Italian Gothic churches, the majority of lighting was provided by
windows in the clerestory. In addition, the low transparency stained glass that filled them during
the Medieval period (most of which no longer exists today) would have served to further
attenuate incoming radiation. In addition, at certain times of the day the exterior flying
buttresses, essential for maintaining the high vaults of the cathedral, limited the effectiveness of
certain windows lying between them, especially at both the upper and lower levels of the
southern ambulatory. All of these factors—the relatively smaller window size and limited
window space (compared to many Rayonnant and Late Gothic Cathedrals), an extended
triforium, sparser windows in the lower nave ground level, low transparency stained glass, and
closely-spaced flying buttresses, all served to limit the amount of incoming radiation in Early
Gothic cathedrals such as Notre Dame de Paris (Bond 529). Therefore, while lighting
considerations were likely very important in the construction of Notre Dame (perhaps similar to
those of Norman churches like St. Georges), lighting was clearly not as significant of an issue as
in later periods. This makes climactic sense, as Notre Dame’s construction was begun in the
Medieval Warm Period and largely completed during the early stages of the gradual transition
period to the Little Ice Age.
The dramatic increase in window size and space is perhaps best seen when contrasting
the choir and west façade of St. Denis with the rest of the church, where windows take up nearly
all of the available wall space in the clerestory and transepts. A triforium level is present in St.
Denis; however, it is kept very narrow in both height and width, and windows behind it are lined
up closely with the nearby openings in the triforium arches to ensure maximum transmission of
light into the basilica interior. A similar treatment to the triforium level was used in the
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construction of the choir of Cologne Cathedral in the Fourteenth Century. In other cathedrals
constructed during the late Gothic period, the elimination of the triforium level and the
expansion of some windows from the clerestory to the lower levels of the church served to
provide even greater lighting.
The gradual increase in window size throughout this era, especially visible in English
cathedrals from Early Gothic to Perpendicular styles, also illustrates this trend. The nave and
west front of Wells Cathedral (southern England), constructed in the early to mid Thirteenth
century, provides an important example of an Early English Gothic Cathedral. The windows of
the west front, like those of Notre Dame de Paris and St. Denis, are much more limited in size
and coverage than later Gothic cathedrals. In addition, while lower level windows are used in
Wells Cathedral, like in Notre Dame they are fewer and less significant than the clerestory
windows in providing interior lighting. The Quire of Wells Cathedral, constructed largely in the
early-mid Fourteenth century, already demonstrates the increasing window sizes of Later Gothic
styles during the Little Ice Age. The windows are nearly two times larger, and the Lady Chapel
and southern ambulatory provides substantially larger lower level windows that add to the
interior lighting of the church. As the Gothic style continued to be developed in England, larger
and larger windows began to take over the walls and facades of churches and cathedrals, starting
from northern England and working southward. For example, Ripon Cathedral in northern
England, which would have come under the influence of colder and cloudier weather
substantially sooner than southern part of the kingdom, was built around the same time as Wells
(1220-1250), yet its west façade, with its abundance of large and long windows, contrasts starkly
with Wells Cathedral’s front (which has, by comparison, much less window space). However,
window space on the west fronts and nave walls of southern English cathedrals expanded
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dramatically by the Fourteenth Century, as the west front of Winchester Cathedral illustrates, and
the perpendicular Gothic style of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth centuries used particularly large
windows, well represented by Henry VII’s Chapel in Westminster Abbey in London. In addition,
these perpendicular windows were also covered in abundant white space, with stained glass used
most frequently to display isolated figures or coats of arms (as seen in surviving examples in
York Cathedral). Thus, the progression of window designs and styles within a specific region, or
even within the same church over the centuries, illustrate architects’ increasing desire to modify
their constructions for the purpose of providing more interior lighting at a time when climate
change was likely substantially decreasing the amount of radiation entering cathedrals.
Regional Comparison of Window Sizes
Italian vs. Northern Windows
The effects of the amount and intensity of direct solar radiation on the architectural
placement and form of church windows can also be relatively easily demonstrated when
churches from the same architectural style are contrasted from region to region, such as
comparing Italian Gothic windows with their northern European counterparts. Much of central
and southern Italy was far enough south during the Middle Ages to maintain a relatively
consistent Mediterranean climate, with prolonged periods of sunshine under the influence of the
subtropical high and Atlantic oceanic ridge (especially pronounced during the warm season from
spring to fall). In addition, the Mediterranean Basin is closer to the equator than northern Europe
and sees more intense radiation and sun angles closer to perpendicular with the surface. Thus,
with extended periods of intense sunshine being the primary source of cathedral illumination,
windows had to be strategically placed to best direct solar rays coming into the cathedral
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windows at relatively high angles. In order to do this, windows in Italian Gothic cathedrals and
churches were placed higher up in the cathedral walls, well above human eye level and often
maintained only in the clerestory. For example, much of the interior lighting in the Cathedral of
Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence comes from small circular windows in the dome (these serves
to light much of the transept and apsidial choir, which only have very small windows on their
upper dome walls) and slender windows that begin near the clerestory level in the nave (with no
lower level windows as seen in Northern Gothic cathedrals). In addition, the Gothic windows in
Florence’s cathedral are narrow, small, and take up less wall space than most windows seen in
northern Gothic cathedrals on the same scale, perhaps also due to strong solar lighting in the
Mediterranean environment.
The Gothic Orvieto Duomo has two layers of windows: one at the clerestory level and
another at the ground level, but as in the case of the Florentine cathedral, the windows are
relatively small and narrow and claim less wall space compared to Gothic windows being
constructed in Northern Europe at the time. And the Gothic nave windows at Siena Cathedral,
while larger than those in the previous examples, are relegated to the clerestory level and still
maintain less wall space than northern Gothic structures. In some Italian Gothic cathedrals (such
as Santa Croce, Florence) significant lighting was also introduced into the cathedral interior by
slightly longer or larger windows placed in the mid to upper-levels of the choir, which allows
adequate direct lighting during the low sun angles of sunrise and important diffuse lighting of the
cathedral during other times of the day when the most intense sunlight is directed through
smaller windows in the nave. Thus, on average, Mediterranean Gothic windows are significantly
smaller and provide less wall space, likely due to the greater amount of incoming solar radiation
compared to Northern Europe. Massive windows such as those seen in many Late Gothic
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Northern Churches would have been inappropriate for the sunny, intense radiation of the
Mediterranean climate and would have likely provided too much lighting to an Italian church.
Northern Italy
Northern Italian churches, on the other hand, tend to be equipped with larger windows
than churches on the rest of the peninsula. For example, Venetian churches such as Santa Maria
Gloriosa dei Frari possesses very large windows in the choir (although part of this effect is
negated with a large choir screen). In addition, the large Gothic church of San Giovanni e Paolo,
also in Venice, maintains almost northern-style windows on its southern side—especially evident
in the transept chapel. This may be because of the transalpine, less strongly Mediterranean,
climate of this region close to the Alps and the baroclinic storms that form during colder times of
the year. Milan Cathedral also possesses some particularly large Flamboyant windows, although
Milan was also heavily constructed by a German architect (and thus outside influences become a
major factor). However, larger windows were likely needed in Milan during the Little Ice Age to
counter the effects of the greater number of baroclinic storms in this region with a southward
displaced jet in the winter. Santa Maria della Grazie, another Gothic church in Milan, possesses a
significant number of substantially-sized windows on its west front and nave and appears to
substantiate this transalpine northern Italian trend for slightly larger windows and more window
space than the rest of Italy.
Spain
Much of Spain (except the north) did not maintain a strong Christian Romanesque style
during the central Middle Ages, as most of this territory lay under Saracen rule and Islamic-style
architecture was most prominent. Thus, when the Reconquista made strides in capturing Muslim
Spanish lands in the Gothic era, architects building new cathedrals in the wake of the Christian
Simmons 104
crusade employed the style of the day—Gothic—rather than the old Mediterranean-suited
Romanesque style. With Christian sacred architecture being relatively new to this part of Europe
(especially southern Spain), architects were less likely to make strong climate-related
adjustments at first, and thus one must be cautious when making direct connections between
climate and sacred architecture on parts of the Iberian peninsula. In addition, other influences,
such as that of the French from the north, who brought architectural ideas into Spain through the
pilgrimage route to Santiago della Compostela, likely strongly affected the styles and method of
construction associated with Spanish Gothic Cathedrals.
For example, Leon Cathedral, a prominent example of the Gothic style in Spain and, as a
northern church, heavily influenced by French architectural standards, has three particularly
larger rose windows that are rarely seen in other parts of Mediterranean (Street 138). However,
these are masked in low transparency stained glass that make them more palatable to southern
sunshine. Larger windows were used in the construction of the rest of the church, probably in
imitation of northern Rayonnant French Cathedrals, and according to Street, author of Gothic
Architecture in Spain,
“This cathedral is a mere lantern, it has scarcely a wall of plain, unpierced wall anywhere, and the main thought of its architect must have been how he might increase to the utmost extent the size of windows, and the space of glorious glass with which he contrived to fill the church. No greater fault could have been committed in such a climate. This lavish indulgence in windows would have been excessive even in England, and must have always been insupportable in Spain. Spanish artists… always wisely reduced their windows to the smallest possible dimensions” (142).
However, despite the limitations associated with outside influences, some Mediterranean
adjustments to window sizes can be seen in many Spanish churches, as Street suggests, that were
constructed by local architects and artisans. For example, Barcelona’s monastery of Santa Maria
de Pedables has numerous windows, but these are confined primarily to the clerestory like Italian
Simmons 105
Gothic churches. Gerona cathedral, constructed in the early 1300s at a time when the large
window style of the north had reached full maturity, similarly only possesses very small
windows in the clerestory (it was overseen by Mediterranean architects) (93). Late Gothic era
Pamplona cathedral also maintains most of its relatively scattered windows (especially compared
to northern churches) at the clerestory level and possesses only a small rose/oculus typical of
southern churches. Therefore, clearly a large number of Gothic churches built in Spain, while
perhaps adopting some of the French windows traditions (especially in the north along the old
pilgrimage route from France to Compostela), maintained a distinctly Mediterranean tradition
that reflected the ongoing warm and dry climate that appeared to remain strong from the
Romanesque to Late Gothic period.
Regional Stylistic Variations: The Importance of Outside Influences
As the example of Spain suggests, clearly neighboring regions and outside influences can
have an important impact on sacred architecture style in a specific location, which then becomes
an important consideration that must be dealt with when trying to use architecture to determine
climate. The influence of architecture also becomes particularly important when foreign political
groups from a vastly different climates rule and patronize art and architecture in a distant land.
Some rulers, such as the Norman Kings of Sicily, adopted local techniques and art forms (which
is illustrated by the strong Islamic and southern influences and the use of Byzantine mosaic
artists at Monreale and the Cappella Palatina as well as other Sicilian Norman architectural
works). Others, such as the Provencal Angevin rulers of southern Italy, transplanted their own
style to their exterior territory.
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For example, outside the major Tuscan metropolitan centers and the Transalpine north of
Italy, Gothic was more prevalent in areas of Italy that were in close contact with the French or
under French control, and these areas were often more likely to see more French influences in
their architecture. For instance, only one Gothic church was built in Rome, a city that avoided
direct French influence for much of its history. However, in Naples, where the French
maintained control during the Thirteenth and early Fourteenth centuries, several important
Gothic churches were constructed in the French style under Angevin rule, among them surviving
today are the churches of San Domenico Maggiore, Santa Maria Donnaregina, and San Lorenzo
Maggiore (Blanchard 135). San Lorenzo Maggiore (which has been one of the least subsequently
altered of the three listed above), built by an unknown French architect under Angevin rule in the
Thirteenth century, has narrow Gothic windows that start nearly one-third of the height of the
church above the floor and extend into the upper nave walls. Like many Italian Gothic churches,
San Lorenzo Maggiore’s windows do not take up a large amount of wall space and are primarily
confined to the clerestory (this may be due to southern Provencal French influences in the
church’s construction); however, they are longer than many Italian windows, and the windows in
the west end of the church, like many French cathedrals, claim almost all of the choir and create
an overwhelming interior brightness that is usually avoided in most Italian Gothic churches.
Similarly, Santa Chiara in Naples shows a mix of styles: it possesses a small, heavily traceried
rose window like most in churches in Italy; however, it also maintains very large and long
windows extending from the clerestory to the lower nave between its vertical wall-adjacent
buttresses (like churches in parts of France and similar to the windows seen in Our Lady of the
Snows and Our Lady before Tyn in Prague). Thus, the French Angevin rulers of Naples clearly
left their own mark on the city of Naples and its architecture.
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Similarly, the Abbey of Fossanova south of Rome has strikingly large windows, in
particular a very large west front rose window (without thick tracery) that seems very French and
significantly out of place in Italy. In fact, the structure was built for the Cistercians, who adopted
the French Burgundian style (from central to north central France) for their monasteries and
brought the architectural mode to Italy, thus providing for the larger rose window that would be
more characteristic of a northern church or cathedral than an abbey in southern Italy (92).
Because Burgundy lay on the transition zone between the Mediterranean and northern climates at
the time of construction (the Thirteenth century) as it does today, the style exhibits both
Mediterranean and northern climactic adaptations. Thus, the churches of Naples and the Abbey
of Fossanova clearly illustrate that cultural, religious (monastic), and political factors, along with
artistic diffusion, play important roles in regions directly influenced by northern European
countries and must be taken into account when analyzing southern church styles and their
potential climactic indications.
The Specific Case of Rose Windows: A Regional Comparison
Regional comparisons of rose window sizes and designs also provide an important
illustration of the architectural differences linked to differential climates. Rose windows serve as
extraordinarily efficient sources of light for church interiors, and many Medieval church
architects used the rose window design to introduce light and aesthetic decoration into their
constructions. In addition, rose windows have essentially the same placement in most gothic
churches: at the transepts or the west entrance (main portal) of the church, allowing for easy
comparison from church to church. Rose windows are common in Italian Gothic churches but
are also often very small compared to the massive rose windows of France’s Gothic buildings.
Both major Italian cathedrals (such as Orvieto, Florence, and Siena) and smaller churches (for
Simmons 108
example, Santa Chiara in Assisi, Santa Chiara in Orvieto, and the church of San Francesco in
Palermo) built in the Gothic style possess these characteristically small rose windows. Also
unlike northern rose windows, Italian roses and oculi are also very thickly traceried, which
further serves to limit the amount of light that can penetrate them. Similarly, in Spain, Majorca
Cathedral possesses a particularly large rose window, but it is so thickly traceried so as to
provide a very limited transmittance of light. In contrast to many Italian and southern rose
windows, Siena’s central oculus is particularly large (7 meters in diameter) and possesses
virtually no tracery (Kleiner 217). However, it is still smaller in diameter than many late Gothic
windows of the same caliber in northern Europe, and the presence of medium to low
transparency stained glass in the window, placed there at a time when rose and other stained
glass windows in Northern Europe possessed more translucent glass or “white space,” provides
the decreased transmittance expected in a southern Gothic cathedral.
As the Medieval Warm period came to a close and the average position of the jet stream
shifted south, new rose windows in Northern Europe seemed to take up more wall space, were
surrounded by more and larger lancets and standard Gothic windows so that they became less
distinct features of the overall architectural aesthetic, or were provided with more translucent or
nearly transparent glass (contrasting with solid-colour early Gothic windows). The first
completed rose window, the oculus at St. Denis, has an estimated size and design (based on
remaining fragments) that more closely resembles those of Italian Gothic churches. While the
gradual growth of rose windows from the mid 1100s to late 1200s may be primarily due to
changing aesthetic tastes, a trend toward increasing flamboyancy, and better technical handling
and skill of the rose window designs by architects, the fact that less light was needed in the
prevailing sunny conditions supported the development of smaller oculi during the Early Gothic
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and Late Romanesque periods (these smaller circular windows could have been easily replaced
by more standard sized windows to allow more interior lighting). Rose windows are also
generally placed in the upper clerestory (as in Italian churches) at the beginning of the Gothic era
and gradually descended down the façade of the church or cathedral facades as they expanded in
the Thirteenth century (the use of lancets or larger framing windows also helped in this
expansion). Examples of this progression of rose window placement can be seen in the
comparative placement of the oculus of St. Denis (comparable to Italian Gothic roses) to the
larger South Transept Rose of Notre Dame de Paris (which is accompanied by a smaller rose
window at the roof level and a much larger rose below it).
Stone window tracery thickness (and proportion of the total window design) also
decreased with time to allow more glass space. For example, the first oculus at St. Denis is
believed to have had thick stone tracery (Bruzelius 47). Similarly, the western rose window of
Chartres, constructed in the early 1200s, although having a diameter of 15 meters that makes it
one of the largest rose windows in existence, also contains significant stone tracery separation of
individual components (making it a less effective provider of light than later larger Rayonnant
rose windows—along with its low transparency stained glass) (Favier 76). In addition, with the
increasing window acreage of the Rayonnant and Flamboyant Gothic architectural styles, the
rose window was accompanied by ever-longer or larger clerestory windows and lancets (the
name given to the thin, numerous windows placed underneath rose windows) in the thirteenth
and fourteenth centuries, providing additional illumination to make up for any lighting needs not
addressed by the rose window itself. This is perhaps best exemplified by the numerous lancet
windows at St. Denis and underneath the large rose window at Beauvais Cathedral.
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By contrast, the rose windows on the facades of major Italian Gothic churches remained
relatively unaccompanied by other sources of lighting and are rarely associated with lancets like
Northern cathedrals. For example, the Florentine Duomo’s west rose window (small by
comparison to their northern rose windows on the same type of façade and placed an entire level
above the portal but like the oculus built on the façade of the Twelfth Century St. Denis) is only
accompanied by two lesser and widely spaced oculi, in stark contrast to the transept rose
windows of the late Medieval reconstruction of the northern French basilica of St. Denis. With
its unusually large circular window opening providing plenty of light, the Cathedral of Siena
completely lacks any other windows on its west front. Similarly, Orvieto’s relatively small and
thickly traceried west façade rose window is unaccompanied by any other windows, and lesser
churches like Santa Chiara at Assisi, Santa Chiara in Naples, and San Francesco in Palermo
similarly have no lancets or other windows to accompany their nave roses. Because lancets and
directly adjacent clerestory windows provided an important source interior lighting that is
altogether lacking in southern churches and cathedrals, it can only be assumed that native Italian
architects shunned the complex, large, and well-accompanied window styles of the north in favor
of smaller, thickly traceried windows that would provide an optimal amount of light given the
prevailing intense and frequent sunshine.
A transition zone between the small, thickly traceried rose windows of southern Italy and
the large, less thickly traceried, and large circumference windows of the transalpine north can
also be seen. As already established, southern cathedrals possess very small rose windows.
However, the cathedral of Modena, located in the Po Valley near Venice, provides an excellent
example of a larger rose window with more glass space. The rose window on the west front of
San Zeno Maggiore is similarly large and has relatively little tracery, thus providing for greater
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interior lighting in an environment that likely sees more rain and baroclinic storms, especially in
the Little Ice Age when the jet stream had shifted significantly south from its average location.
Also, later Gothic northern rose windows were often integrated into more complex
designs that are lacking in the south. For example, the rose windows of Beauvais and Amiens
were placed inside even larger Gothic windows, and the north rose was placed within a square
window and accompanied by multiple lancet windows, which provides even more light to the
interior of a cathedral than a rose window of the same diameter. In many cases, these roses
within larger windows provided even more window space and opportunity for interior lighting
than simpler circular rose windows of the Early Gothic era. In addition, they also provide an
opportunity to bring light entering roses in the clerestory level closer to the ground by providing
an expanded space for light penetration. Thus, northern cathedrals not only expanded window
sizes beyond those of the south, they also used a variety of techniques, such as placing rose
windows within larger windows, multiplying the lancet window coverage, and surrounding rose
windows with adjacent large clerestory windows, in order to provide more lighting into cathedral
interiors at a time when strong solar radiation was less common. Thus, the evolution of rose
windows in the north, when contrasted with the consistently small oculi of the south, provides
another example of the increasing importance of light in northern church and cathedrals during
the Gothic age and the lack of concern about light in the Mediterranean basin.
Romanesque vs. Gothic: A Regional Analysis in France
As has been established in the previous chapters, churches of the Medieval Warm Period
possessed architectural features, such as small windows, low roof inclinations, and exposed
portals/sculpture, that were adapted to warmer, drier, sunnier weather. These features, however,
also characterized the Romanesque style for most of Europe, which remained prevalent during
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the Central Middle Ages. The Gothic style evolved in Northern Europe as the Medieval Warm
Period waned, although with its windows constrained to the clerestory, large triforium, and low
transparency stained glass, the changes were not initially dramatic. However, as the Thirteenth
century arrived, the Gothic style began to take on a more distinct tone in the north, with greater
verticality, larger windows, and protection added to wall sculptures better able to suit the
changing climate at hand. In the south, the Gothic and Romanesque styles readily mixed, and the
front Gothic facades remained relatively indistinct and were eventually replaced by Renaissance
Classical-style architecture. The north, on the other hand, continued to evolve its Gothic
architecture well into the Renaissance era. These trends seem to suggest that the north’s climate
was changing, with the Gothic style serving to provide better protection against the elements,
while the south’s climate remained largely unchanged and thus did not require any dramatic
modifications in shelter type. Thus, it would make sense that the south would not need to convert
to Gothic as readily as the north, and that even many southern regions would keep their
Romanesque churches or build more sacred buildings in the Romanesque style.
The geographic mapping of all major surviving religious Romanesque monuments and
ruins provided by Pauline de la Malène in her Atlas de la France Romane offers a
comprehensive view of the distribution and density of churches built during central Middle Ages.
This atlas allows the geographical historian to obtain a good idea of what factors were
influencing church architecture construction during the heart of the Medieval Warm Period. Only
churches and cloisters with surviving Romanesque elements are mapped, and those sacred
buildings completely gothicized or rebuilt in later centuries with no surviving Romanesque
architecture are not mapped. This allows the reader to analyze only those churches that were
kept. There are clearly some errors when using this method to judge the landscape of
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Romanesque France, as churches destroyed during major conflicts or major economic
restructuring are not as likely to appear as those existing in largely rural regions that escaped
many of the ravages or war. This would particularly influence the number of Romanesque
churches mapped in northern France, the historic industrial heartland of France as well as the
location of battlegrounds associated with major world wars. Additionally, major towns and urban
areas would have had a high density of Romanesque churches during the Middle Ages, but this is
no longer reflected in the data due to urban restructuring and replacement with later styles
(Gothic, Baroque, etc). This fact is perhaps best illustrated by the presence of only one important
Romanesque monument in Paris itself (St Julien le Pauvre). In fact, northern France was heavily
gothicized during the twelfth through sixteenth centuries, most notably by Louis XII (patron of
St. Chapelle de Paris) in the thirteenth century, while France’s southern territories, along with
Italy, retained many of their Romanesque-style churches. These regional differences in
architecture were likely driven by a number of factors, including politics and warfare, differential
wealth (urban vs. rural), pilgrimage routes and changes in their popularity between the
Romanesque and Gothic eras, and climate change.
The Atlas de la France Romane also reveals the existence of a cluster of Romanesque
churches in Normandy, hugging the Baie de la Seine and especially grouped around Caen and Le
Havre. Many of these monuments are associated with the Romanesque building spree launched
by the powerful Dukes of Normandy, although most of these churches have been altered since
their original construction (many due to later gothicization and warfare). The Normans similarly
sponsored an explosion of Romanesque sacred architecture in Britain, where between 1066 and
1154 the number of churches rose from 60 to 500 (Brooks 73). Thus, cultural and political
factors seem to be a major factor in the high density of Romanesque churches in this part of
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France as the Norman dukes sought to consolidate their power over the region. However, many
of the Norman churches in England were either partially or completely rebuilt in later centuries
during the Gothic period, perhaps due to that style’s increasing adaptation to the northern
climate. However, the cluster of surviving Norman churches in France (when so many Norman
churches built in England became gothicized) might be partly related to the activities of the
Hundred Years’ War between England and France in the latter half of the Gothic age (which was
fought mostly on French soil and likely disrupted some churches from Gothicizing in affected
areas of France). However, the failure to alter these churches is also perhaps due to the Norman
churches’ greater verticality of Norman Romanesque roofs and spires (which likely required only
minor Gothic modifications in later eras, indicating that the vertical Norman style was more
appropriate to northern France but still was eventually inadequate in England).
Another important cluster of Romanesque architecture in today’s northern France is
located on a thin strip, from Longwy to Isches, along the Moselle River, a major trading route
during the Middle Ages which provided access to the important commercial cities of Flanders.
This area continues to be an important urban region of France, encompassing important cities
like Metz, Nancy, and Neuchateau, with the greatest number of Romanesque churches located in
the countryside around these important urban centers. Again, a rural setting seems to be
important in determining the preservation of Romanesque churches, probably due to their small
revenue inflow (which limited the ability of these churches to afford a complete reconstruct of
their church or the adoption of the latest styles in sacred architecture seen in the major towns,
cities, and ecclesiastical centers). In addition, the very traditional and conservative mindset often
attributed to the Medieval peasantry could also been a force in preserving rural churches,
although this is much harder to prove. In addition, city churches were more likely to adopt other
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trendier architectural styles (due to substantially greater revenues), and some minor urban
churches were undoubtedly swept away as most of the urban environment replaced itself in the
800-1000 years following the construction of most Romanesque churches. The vast majority of
both rural and urban Romanesque churches around the Moselle Valley, however, have been
altered, perhaps due to the greater population density and commerce through the region
(resulting in greater wealth and more opportunities for changes) and also due to damage caused
by recent major wars (most notably World Wars I and II) that devastated this region.
Also, cultural factors and diffusion were also likely important factors affecting the
prevalence of Romanesque churches in this region. Western German architects, surrounded by a
profusion of pre-Romanesque and Romanesque churches dating from the important political
reigns (which expressed their influence and power in the region through the patronage of
churches), tended to perfect the Romanesque style in the mid to late 1100s and even into the
early 1200s before converting decisively to Gothic (unlike northern France and England, which
took up Gothic almost immediately after its invention). This delay in the prevalence of the
Gothic style in Germany might also be related to the slow change in climate occurring in the mid
to late 1200s over Germany, during which time glaciers in the Alps began growing again,
indicating a slow cooling trend that likely lead to a more southerly-positioned polar jet and a
slow increase in rain and snow across the region. During the Central Middle Ages, the Moselle
Valley was more closely geographically and politically associated with the western German
states due to its position on a tributary on the Rhine than with developments within the French
territories, and the prevalence of Romanesque churches around Metz and Nancy might be at least
in part a result of the outgrowth of Romanesque in the German lands that preceded the
widespread adoption of Gothic.
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The relative absence of Romanesque churches around Ile de France and, in general,
northern France, has been attributed to many factors. Some note that the Romanesque era was
particularly violent for the Parisian basin, with existing churches and structures frequently swept
away by Viking and Norman invasions (Tilley 300). On the other hand, the Gothic era was
relatively prosperous and peaceful for this region; the kings of the Ile de France gained power
and territory during this period, and the comparatively stable political climate allowed for a
flourishing of architecture and contributed to the mentality of constructing long-lasting religious
monuments. However, while frequent pillages and invasions might have resulted in the relative
lack of permanent monuments from the period, a safer assumption is that many if not the vast
majority of churches were reconstructed in the new Gothic style sometime between the mid
1100s and the late 1500s (when various styles of Gothic were prominent across northern France)
or reconstructed during or after the Renaissance. King Louis XII himself sponsored the
construction or reconstruction of over 1,500 churches in the Ile de France region, including such
precious sacred buildings as Sainte Chapelle and Chartres (Fagan 19). While the Gothic style
developed and became widely accepted throughout Europe as a part of broad cultural and
aesthetic trends, its prevalence in some places (northern France, Flanders, Germany, and Great
Britain) over others (southern France and Italy) probably also reflects climatological adaptations
to the colder, rainier weather that came to northern Europe at the close of the Medieval warm
period.
In fact, most of France’s surviving Romanesque churches and cathedrals are clustered in
the southern half or two thirds of France, which has a very high density of Romanesque churches
compared to the north. This is likely due to a number of factors, such as pilgrimage traffic
(which was greatest through southern France during the agriculturally stable Medieval Warm
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Period). However, climactic factors also might play a role. For example, cathedrals in
southernmost France, as in Mediterranean Italy, were more likely to be constructed or
reconstructed in the Romanesque style in the Thirteenth century, well after the Gothic style had
been introduced (331). In fact, much like in Italy, the Gothic style never really took off in
southern and western France (under the Atlantic ridge and Mediterranean influences) as it did in
northern and eastern France. Additionally, some far south locations transitioned straight from the
Romanesque style to the Classical Mediterranean Renaissance style, skipping Gothic altogether
(331). Another important feature of the Atlas de la France Romane is that it appears to show that
the fluctuations in Romanesque and Gothic (that is, the geographic line between the
Romanesque-predominant region and the area dominated by Gothic/lacking Romanesque) seem
to follow the Mediterranean-Temperate climactic boundary line. A closer GIS analysis of the
prevalence in each style for particular time periods might be even more helpful in determining
the fluctuations in this Mediterranean-Temperate line during the transition from the Medieval
Warm Period to the Little Ice Age. In general, the proliferation of Romanesque churches in
southern France (accompanying a general lack of Gothic), along with the shortage of
Romanesque churches in the north (a region which possesses the most Gothic churches of
anywhere in the world) seems to indicate a clear regional climactic pattern. This analysis has
also, however, revealed a lot of the nonclimactic factors that also likely determines the
prevalence of the Gothic or Romanesque style.
Conclusions
In closing, many of the architectural features, styles, and innovations of the Romanesque
and Gothic eras, including sculptures, paintings, mosaics, large windows, buttresses, apses, and
niches, appear to reflect climate changes occurring during the Medieval period. In the north,
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poorly recessed portals and low roofed towers of the Romanesque and early Gothic eras gave
way to the vertical towers and spires, high inclined roofs, and large windows of the Late Gothic
Era. In the south, architectural styles, while experiencing substantial aesthetic shifts through the
Renaissance era related to painting and sculpture, never deviated far from the low inclined roof,
small windowed, flat towered, and outwardly painted and sculpted architectural facades of
Classical models (and indeed, many southern churches from the Romanesque, Baroque, and
Renaissance periods are directly inspired by Classical examples and new interpretations of
Classical Mediterranean architecture).
The adaptations discussed above seem to reveal a pattern very similar to that seen in ice
core samples, tree ring data, and other historical climate-determining methods. The Romanesque
period gave way to the Gothic era during the Medieval Warm Period, although the initial
changes in Gothic architecture were not pronounced enough to indicate that this aesthetic change
was at first a climactic one. But the Thirteenth centuries proved to be a time of rapid architectural
transition (mirroring more closely the ice core data), with the recession of portals and niches, an
increase in roof and spire inclination, a conversion to flat roof tiles, the protection of decorative
elements, a change in the evolution of flying buttresses, and the appearance of gargoyles and
drainage systems all suggesting that the weather was becoming cold and more precipitation was
occurring by the Rayonnant Gothic period (early-mid to mid 1200s). The changes during the
Thirteenth century appeared to come in from east to west, with German Romanesque church
becoming rather vertical by the early Thirteenth century (which churches in southeast England,
such as Wells, were still being painted on the exterior and had relatively low inclination roofs
like Burgundian churches). In addition, the transition of all of Europe to colder weather
continued to be apparent through the evolution of greater and greater window sizes in northern
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Europe during the Fourteenth century, with higher transmissivity stained glass replacing the low
transmissivity kind of the Thirteenth century. Spires and roof inclinations also became more
vertical during this period, and these often culminated in cathedrals like St. Stephen’s in Vienna
in the Fifteenth century (with a very steep roof and spire). During the Flamboyant/Perpendicular
period, architecture moderated from its Fourteenth century extremes to a certain extent, perhaps
due to a gradual increase in temperatures ahead of the dip of the Sporer Minimum or also
perhaps due to less precipitation located to the north of the jet stream. The Gothic style, while
not originally and significant climactic separation from the Romanesque style in its early stage,
eventually evolved to become one, which promoted gothicization efforts. Where Gothic was
adopted in the south, it often closely followed the Romanesque style from centuries before due to
less climactic need for the protective extremes seen in large windowed, vertical northern Gothic
Cathedrals.
Thus, with the adaptations provided by the Gothic style to the northern climate of the
Little Ice Age, it does not seem surprising that many areas of Northern France, Flanders, and
England razed their Romanesque churches and cathedrals in order to adopt the new style in the
Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries. Similarly, much of northern Europe was slow to abandon
the Gothic style, even after Renaissance ideas concerning art and architecture had spread to the
north. In fact, looking beyond the Medieval period, varying degrees of Gothic were used in the
construction of chapels and churches throughout the Renaissance and Baroque eras in England,
as is perhaps best exemplified by structures such as the Gothic Lincoln Inn Chapel built in 1619-
1623 (Woodley 147). With this fact in mind, it also does not seem surprising that England played
the “key role” in enthusiastically heralding the Gothic Revival of the Nineteenth century, during
which many buildings in London and throughout other parts of northern Europe were rebuilt in
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the Gothic style (Jansen 699). Similarly, it seems natural that Italy would be the source of the
classical revival of the Renaissance, and throughout much of post-Classic Italian history the
peninsula, and indeed most of the Mediterranean basin, maintained the small window, low
roofed Classical-derived styles that also prevailed during the Renaissance and Baroque eras.
Thus, in broad terms, architectural styles and climate appear to be closely related, and further,
more detailed regional studies focusing on one or more of the architectural elements featured in
this paper may provide even better clues about the nature of the relationship between architecture
and climate change as well as reveal important information about past climates on a regional or
even a local scale. And the great changes that occurred in architecture, if more strongly linked to
climactic variations during the Medieval period, could provide us with vital clues concerning the
direct social and environmental consequences of a simple 1°C deviation in temperature, a
consideration we must take seriously in our own Modern Warm Period.
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