The importance of the carvings are Breedon is hard to overstate. We don’t have a huge amount of pre-Conquest sculpture left. We have many cross shafts from that period. Those at Bewcastle and Gosforth - both in Cumbria - and at Ruthwell in south-west Scotland are awe-inspiring survivals of that. period. The Isle of Man has its own extraordinary collection of Celto-Scandinavian crosses. Scotland has many Pictish survivors. Then there are one-off sculptural survivors like Breedon’s own “angel”, others at Deerhurst, Brixworth and Bradford-on-Avon and a whole little gallery of them at Daglingworth. It is true to say, however, that what remains of our pre-Conquest churches cannot give us a full picture of what an pre-Conquest decorative scheme might have looked like nor, if we had such a picture, how widely they were applied. We must never forget that the fractured and fluid nature of first millennium politics legislated against any notion of national “style” in any form of art. At Breedon alone we are seeing probably Hellenistic, Byzantine and Scandinavian artistic influences. We have always known that the political landscape was complex but only comparatively recently have we begun to understand that trade and cultural exchange was also much more international than we had once realised.
Breedon’s is the only substantial stretch of Anglo-Saxon frieze we have. There are fragments of what were probably friezes at Edenham in Lincolnshire and at Deerhurst in Gloucestershire. Fletton in Peterborough has fragments of friezes that were, by common consent, of the same “school” of those at Breedon. Castor in Cambridgeshire is also said to have a sculpture from the same school. I am not convinced myself, but far more learned people than myself have said so and I am sure they are right. Unsurprisingly, all three were within the Kingdom of Mercia. How many other churches has friezes of any kind, let alone by this “school” we cannot know.
Breedon’s carvings are startlingly fine as well as startlingly numerous. The friezes are fascinating in that Christian symbolism - such as vine scroll - rubs shoulders with warriors. The tradition of mixing secular with sacred, temporal power with religious power on sculpted art begins right here and never really went away until the Reformation. So Church and state co-existed in a quite symbiotic way until one party or the other - usually the Church - got above itself and was slapped down by, for example Henrys I and VIII. Of course, the English Civil War might be seen as the same in reverse but that was, to say the least, “complicated” - as civil wars always are, of course.
So who carved these beauties at Breedon-on-the-Hill - without a chisel? And why? As to the “why” that is the perennial question about church decoration. It seems that mankind has always felt the need to decorate the places he lives or worships in. It’s a simple answer but surely the right one. We can’t know “who?” because whoever “they” were they didn’t leave records. Two things stand out about the Breedon sculptures: the craftsmanship and the influence of Byzantine art. Art historians can write whole books about what sets Byzantine art apart. We don’t need to understand all that because we can see that the Breedon Angel and the Breedon Virgin are unquestionably making gestures of benediction, touching the thumb of the right hand with the third finger. So we can all show how clever we are, nod sagely, and say “Ooh, yes, Byzantine influence there” and impress our friends who anyway don’t give a fig! But where does the Byzantine influence come from. Come to that, who were the Byzantines?
The Byzantine Empire is the outcome of the decision of Constantine the Great to make his capital in what was then an obscure backwater and which was to become the the greatest city in the in the world - Constantinople. The unwieldy Roman Empire was split it into two geographically with separate rulers, although Constantine himself maintained hegemony over the two. Constantine made Christianity the state religion of both. The Western Empire fell, as we all know, to the so-called Barbarian tribes. The Eastern Empire did not. In AD527 the Emperor Justinian came to power in Constantinople. He built the most magnificent church in the world at Constantinople - the Hagia Sophia - and set about reconquering the lost lands of the Western Empire with very limited success. The Eastern Empire was now what we call (but they didn’t!) the Byzantine Empire named for the original site of Constantinople.
Unsurprisingly, the culture of Byzantium was markedly different from that of the remnants of the Western Empire. The Western Empire did not revert back to paganism. The historically maligned Ostrogoths who dominated what we now as Italy were cultured and in, a way that puts Roman Christianity to shame, religiously tolerant - but Christian. You can still see the magnificent cathedral built by Theodoric the Great (reigned AD 493-526) in Ravenna which he made his capital. Christianity still held sway, then, in most of formerly Roman Europe. The Byzantine Empire, however, was infused with Greek - “Hellenistic” - culture and language whereas the west adopted Latin as the common language of Christianity. What could be more conducive to misunderstanding and rivalry at a time when Christianity was still periodically torn apart by differences of theological belief? The head of eastern Christianity was the patriarch and he was appointed by the Emperor. The Pope who ruled western (or “Latin”) Christianity was appointed by the Church and came to see himself as above temporal rulers. Nevertheless, the two branches of Christianity rubbed along until AD1054 when the Great - and irrevocable - Schism occurred by a difference in the liturgy that we would find difficult to understand today.
One important difference even while the two branches were tolerating each other, however, is the issue of icons - those paintings of Christ and the saints that still defines eastern Orthodox Christianity in the eyes of most of us in the west today. This all goes back to the Second Commandment that forbids the worship pf graven images. This was uncomfortable to the descendants of Greece and Rome who had happily represented their pagan gods in picture and stone. How was Christianity to square the Commandment with the age-old instinct to see images of one’s God? For the eastern Church the answer was through the icons that were two-dimensional and not, therefore, strictly speaking “graven”. To eastern Christians these icons were and still are venerated as the very embodiment of their saints. They are accessible to the people who feel that they thus have a clear path to communing with their God in the here and now. Latin Christianity, however, not only played fast and loose with the Second Commandment - and still do on an industrial scale - but ensured that access to to God was channeled strictly through the clergy. On such a matter, of course, was founded the second great Christian schism between Protestant and Catholic.
Byzantine sacred art then was embodied in the art of the icon and the artistic traditions that underpinned it all was Greek. The icon, however, had its own crisis. With Byzantine territories falling like dominoes to races and tribes that had embraced the new-fangled religion of Islam, the rulers of the Byzantine Empire looked for answers. Why had God forsaken them? Between AD726-87 and again between AD814-42 icons were forbidden and destroyed; which is where we get the now more widely-used word “iconoclasm” of course. To paint an icon was to risk death.
Well I hope you’ve enjoyed this history lesson and my apologies for any errors in this potted account. Why have I put you through all this?
Well, as you can now see, Byzantine art had Greek roots. Relationships between the two branches of Christianity were strained and they rivaled each other in taking their beliefs to pagan lands. Why on earth then, did Byzantine art influence sculpture at Breedon-on-the-Hill and Fletton - to name but two English churches? Professor Sir Diarmaid McCulloch (I expect my own knighthood to be conferred any day) - our greatest living authority on the history of Christianity - suggests that it came via manuscripts. That is a very obvious channel. After all, Breedon was a monastery and they would have had books. Two things bother me, though. Even if western church artists were influenced by their eastern counterparts in term of style and technique, why would they copy the benediction of the eastern Church? Would it even be acceptable to do so? When the Mercian craftsmen were perusing books with Byzantine art (sounds a bit far fetched, doesn’t it?) would the monks not have pointed out the pitfalls of slavishly copying Byzantine work - especially with something so everyday (for them) as how to give a benediction?
So I ask whether the sculptures might not have been created by Byzantine artists; perhaps by Byzantine artists who could no longer work in their homelands as religious artists? Artists who did not understand the fine differences between the symbolism of two brands of Christianity and just created what they had always created. Artists from a church far in advance of its Latin counterpart in matters of art. We cannot date the carvings definitively so in my opinion it is a distinct possibility that exiled Byzantine artists came to England and even Professor McCulloch would not rule it an impossibility. Perhaps the royal house of Mercia gave them succour? Perhaps. I have to admit to a counter-argument of my own: did Byzantine artists have much of a tradition in sculpture as opposed to painting? So just perhaps.
Apart from the quality of the sculptures - they are, if I might permit myself a little pun, iconic - there is a lot of it. The friezes were nine inches wide and made in eighteen foot sections and probably adorned both the inside and outside of the original monastic church. Obviously, we have only fragments remaining, Interestingly it is now widely believed that the lengths showing above today’s arcades are in their original positions: that is that the arcade walls were part of the original church. Nevertheless, it is something of a mystery as to why so much of what was displaced by demolition and rebuilding was preserved. I can only surmise that the unique quality of the sculpture has been recognised and valued by many generations of church custodians.
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