It took me a long time in this maze before I found the location of the chapel on the ground floor. From the outside, however, the apse was immediately visible, the only clue that revealed the presence of a chapel in this rather crude and massive building. From slow corridors to heavy stairs, alternating between light and darkness, I had progressed cautiously on a floor that had been eaten away by humidity. As I descended another staircase and another corridor, a blind wooden door that I pushed without much conviction finally allowed me to access the nave, from the back, just below a balcony.
Under the dust, under the droppings of pigeons and bats, one could still imagine rich and finely worked tiles dividing the floor in its length into five aisles. I was surprised by the low height of this Neo-Gothic-inspired ceiling. With this style of architecture, I expected vertiginous heights. Standing at the foot of one of the pillars, I could almost touch the capital with my fingertips. The finely worked stained glass windows were low and stocky. The whole chapel was coated in shades of grey.
The vaults spread their long bat wings with rib vaults above the visitor. The furniture consisted of four aisles of dark wooden pews and three richly carved altars in the same dark wood.
I wondered what the acoustics were like in a chapel with such a low ceiling. But I remained silent, as a precaution.
How did the chanting of the monks who came to pray here sound? Could their prayers reach the celestial ears of the people they were praying to?
More info: francismeslet.com | Facebook | Instagram
Get drunk on the passing of time
33 shades of grey
The truth is down the hall
The sad severity
Sad inflexibility
Be faithful and shut up!
Ball in the middle
Here with me
Expectation
Up to you
No two are the same
Windows—open source
Self-love
Follow Us
