During our weekend in Strasbourg, I climbed all 328 steps that took me 66 meters--about 21 stories--up to the top of the front of the cathedral, which is the flat level from where the upper tower rises.
The climb up runs primarily through two narrow circular staircases, connected by a brief horizontal passage.
The first staircase takes you to the level of the bottom of the great rose window, but on the far side of the front of the cathedral, not visible in this picture. At the start, views are limited to glimpses through smallish windows. In this view, you can see the top of one of the cathedral's lower spires.
At the end of the first tower's climb, you walk along a well-protected ledge to the second tower, which takes you all the way to the main platform at the top.
On your way up, you reach and the surmount the flying buttresses along the nave.
The second tower is lot more open--it's more window than stone at this point, and the cathedral's keepers have inserted extra bars to keep visitors from falling through the openings. It was at this point where I really began to feel the height.
I could look across and see people coming down a tower on the other side of the cathedral. They all--like the person in the picture--seemed to have their arms out. More on this in a moment.
Eventually I made it to the top. Visitors first see the works for the cathedral's clock then step out onto the main platform from which the upper tower rises. The views are, of course, amazing. The edges of the platform have tall fences that help keep you from feeling like you could fall over the edge. So here I am at the top, in front of the upper tower and with a little bit of the view and fence on the right of the picture.
The view to the west looks out on the oldest parts of Strasbourg such as la Petite France.
The area under the upper tower, which is where you start your descent, is largely open to the weather. There was a fair amount of snow there, which even had bird tracks.
The snow in under the upper tower was a signal of things to come. The steps on the north side--the descent side--were much snowier and icier than the steps on the south side. All those airy openings in the tower walls which let in so much light also let it a huge amount of snow, which rather than melting had compressed and congealed into slick coverings on pretty much every step. One slip and you'd skid round and down the staircase for quite a long ways. So I started down, one ginger footstep after another, holding onto the outside bannister with my left hand and onto the central stone pillar with my right hand. I quickly realized that I understood what I had been seeing in that other tower as I had climbed.
T
he slow pace heading down gave me extra time to spot interesting details in the cathedral's stonework, at least when I wasn't fixated on the ice covering the steps. Above the flying buttresses there's a railing running along the roof of the nave. And on that railing, under arch of the straight staircase, is one detail that stands out: there's a small dog, carved in stone with the railing, looking out and down at the passing scene.
This little sculpture doesn't have any religious significance that I know of. But one of the cathedral's builders took the time to add this permanent pet who always has a great view of the people below.
Back on the ground, I could see where I had been. Here, for the descent, are the ledge and the lower staircase. You can see the staircase's handrail through the windows. The views from the top were wonderful, I enjoyed the labyrinthine aspect of climb, and with that descent complete I was happy to have my feet on the pavement again.
As Susie and I were riding the tram in Strasbourg, we passed by a driving-school car like this one. We went by too fast to take a picture, so I've borrowed this picture from the driving school's Web site.
And, just for comparison's sake, here's a sample of vrai marble from the exterior of a Strasbourg building near our hotel.
The ground floor, and some of the second floor, now houses the Museum of Decorative Arts, which includes the cardinals' apartments. While much of the palace was damaged or destroyed by Allied bombing in World War II, the ground-floor rooms have been almost completely restored. Some, like this huge hall that starts the visit, are imposing neo-classical set pieces.
Other spaces are more intimate. Great details abound, including the doors. Some doors are, relatively simple, in the style of Louis XV, even if still all white and gilt. Others, like those shown here, are much more ornate.
Strasbourg's Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, across the Ill River from the Petite France neigborhood, is a light and well-designed building for showing its great collection of art from the late 19th century to the present. The galleries are of various sizes, located on two floors off a central longitudinal atrium. There's a very nice cafe on the top floor, with views of the river.
Van Doesburg was probably the biggest influence and inspiration for my own art--meager though the output. Interestingly, I had been working in abstract stained glass inspired by Van Doesberg's paintings, without knowing that he'd produced stained glass works. Here's a second piece of stained glass by Van Doesberg, also from 1927, entitled "Geometric composition." The combination of asymmetries and balances between color and size is what I think is particularly wonderful.
During our weekend in Strasbourg, I climbed all 328 steps that took me 66 meters--about 21 stories--up to the top of the front of the cathedral, which is the flat level from where the upper tower rises.
The first staircase takes you to the level of the bottom of the great rose window, but on the far side of the front of the cathedral, not visible in this picture. At the start, views are limited to glimpses through smallish windows. In this view, you can see the top of one of the cathedral's lower spires.
On your way up, you reach and the surmount the flying buttresses along the nave.
I could look across and see people coming down a tower on the other side of the cathedral. They all--like the person in the picture--seemed to have their arms out. More on this in a moment.
The view to the west looks out on the oldest parts of Strasbourg such as la Petite France.
The area under the upper tower, which is where you start your descent, is largely open to the weather. There was a fair amount of snow there, which even had bird tracks.
The snow in under the upper tower was a signal of things to come. The steps on the north side--the descent side--were much snowier and icier than the steps on the south side. All those airy openings in the tower walls which let in so much light also let it a huge amount of snow, which rather than melting had compressed and congealed into slick coverings on pretty much every step. One slip and you'd skid round and down the staircase for quite a long ways. So I started down, one ginger footstep after another, holding onto the outside bannister with my left hand and onto the central stone pillar with my right hand. I quickly realized that I understood what I had been seeing in that other tower as I had climbed.
he slow pace heading down gave me extra time to spot interesting details in the cathedral's stonework, at least when I wasn't fixated on the ice covering the steps. Above the flying buttresses there's a railing running along the roof of the nave. And on that railing, under arch of the straight staircase, is one detail that stands out: there's a small dog, carved in stone with the railing, looking out and down at the passing scene.
This little sculpture doesn't have any religious significance that I know of. But one of the cathedral's builders took the time to add this permanent pet who always has a great view of the people below.
Susie and I spent the weekend in Strasbourg, the capital of Lorraine's neighboring region of Alsace. We had a great few days, learning about the city, strolling the streets, riding on trams, attending Friday-night services, eating (a lot), climbing 328 steps up the cathedral's bell tower, and touring museums. Over the next few blog posts I'll write in greater detail about some of these, so here I'll provide an introduction to our visit to this wonderful, interesting city.
The most charming places for strolling were the narrow, largely pedestrian streets near the cathedral and, especially, in the district called "La Petite France"--little France, which boasts whole streets of half-timbered houses, bridges that swing so boats can pass, mills over river channels, and a dam/bridge built by Vauban.
Johannes Gutenberg lived in Strasbourg from 1430-1444, and in this span he invented the movable-type printing press. One of the main squares is named for him, and his statue in the square shows him holding a page with French words for "let there be light." As a result of Gutenberg's revolutionary technology, Strasbourg developed into the most active early center for printing. In addition to Gutenberg's Bible, Strasbourg produced first versions of many classical works, including, in 1470, the first printed edition of the works of the Roman playwright Terence. Strasbourg's city history museum has a copy of Terence's plays published in 1496; here's a picture of the first page of this book.
In addition to the city history museum, we also visited the museum of daily life in Alsace (which was founded in 1906), the museum of modern and contemporary art, the museum of decorative arts, and the archeology museum. More on some of these in due course. We rode the trams for a while to see some of the outlying districts, which were resolutely modernist, but didn't make it to the European Parliament, which I saw only from the bell tower of the cathedral. For many years it was the tallest church in all of Europe. The cathedral still rises with an intense verticality communicated by a host of spires, and its highest parts have an amazing openness.
any of Strasbourg's buildings combine a kind of solid but ornamented stonework with peaked roofs, which do much to create a kind of Mitteleuropa esthetic. No Mansard roofs here! I can barely imagine what it must be like to live in the upper floors of an attic like the one in this building in the heart of the city.
