An architect with neoclassical views, in a neo-Romantic world – Saint Calinic of Cernica

Nowadays, the world is full of architects – whether brilliant or merely run-of-the-mill, talented and admired, celebrated or forgotten – as the profession is no longer a rarity, but is listed, with various job descriptions, in the Register of Professions. Their names, personalities and styles are linked to their architectural works which, whether sacred or secular, constitute a seemingly silent testimony that nevertheless manages to convey its specific message across the centuries. This explains why the works of art created along a long and winding path, stretching across the centuries and encompassing vast and varied geographical areas, express the mentalities and experiences specific to the times in which they were created. In particular, however, those rooted in the Christian tradition express themselves in a language that is at once complex, theological, spiritual, historical and artistic, bearing witness, through their specific elements, to the fact that every sacred settlement is a living organism, in a state of perpetual transformation, with roots more or less deeply embedded in history, founded on the Living Stone, Christ, and moving steadfastly and with hope towards the Parousia.

To encompass or even capture just a few aspects of the life and work of Saint Calinic of Cernica is a difficult endeavour, frustratingly inadequate in its inability to sketch his marvellous devotion, his sacrifice on the altar of service to his neighbours within the community he led, be it a monastery or a diocese. This study will attempt to highlight some aspects of the holy bishop’s work as a founder, with reference to four major monastic complexes of his, some rebuilt from scratch, others merely restored, but all retaining the architectural style characteristic of the founder, an architect with neoclassical visions, in a neo-Romantic world.

The act of foundation – motivation and self-sacrifice

The main motivation for founding a monastery was to provide a space conducive to unceasing prayer, an act of piety that was entirely natural amongst a people born Christian. Admittedly, on more than a few occasions, there were various interpretations with secular connotations, asserting that the construction of a ‘church – whether monastic or secular, princely or aristocratic – was not formerly (as is often believed) merely an act of piety, but also one of the ways in which the founder could assert his position in the society of the time: the significance of the building, the beauty of its carved and painted adornments, the riches with which it was endowed, all these revealed the founder’s power, wealth, taste and generosity, enhancing his prestige amongst his contemporaries and immortalising his memory amongst his descendants”1 In reality, whilst certain nuances are accurate, in most cases—as with the foundations of Saint Calinic—personal piety was the decisive factor, one that is by no means negligible in deciphering certain stylistic features.

The times in which the saint’s foundations were erected—namely the first half of the nineteenth century—were turbulent, fraught with difficulties that could have thwarted any attempt to build a new foundation, but which could not prevent the then abbot of Cernica from setting out on his journey – a further argument intended to dispel from the minds of art history enthusiasts ‘the myth that great achievements require peace and prosperity… Those who have something to say do not wait for better times but seek to express themselves, whatever the circumstances, whatever the means. If it were otherwise, none of our art would exist, for times of wealth and abundance have been all too rare in the Romanian lands; and when, a century ago, wealth did come, we began to lose our way, or at least to forget our tradition. But what I wish to say, in short, is that art in the life of a people depends neither on wealth nor on energy, as many believe, nor is it the ideal product of exceptional times. It forms an integral part of this people’s life, and when creative energies are present, however harsh the times may be, they overcome the difficulties, so as to provide the legends with the nourishment needed to sustain the thirst for illusions essential to any progress”2 The same was true of the foundation of the monastic settlements which are the subject of this study and which are to be briefly presented below.

…in most cases, as with the foundations established by Saint Calinic, personal piety was the decisive factor, one that is by no means negligible in deciphering certain stylistic features.

The Notable Foundations of Saint Calinic

In chronological order, the first foundation is the one known today to the people of Bucharest as the ‘church of Cernica Monastery’, dedicated to Saint George, situated on the island of the same name – although it is ‘the second church in order of importance’ within that monastery 3. In the years 1831–1832, the then abbot of the monastery, Archimandrite Calinic, built it with the assistance of Bishop Ioanichie Stratonichia; after it was destroyed by the earthquake of 1838, it was rebuilt by the same founder, and the consecration took place on 6 August 1842 4.

The second church is that of Pasărea Monastery, built anew on the site of an older foundation and which, having been completely destroyed by the same devastating earthquake (merely a decade after its completion), required rebuilding. From the account of Casian Cernicanul, we learn that ‘in the year 1846, (Archimandrite Calinic, who had just completed the church dedicated to Saint George at Cernica, n.n.), they began using the money that remained to build a beautiful church at the Pasărea hermitage, just like the one at Cernica, and with the alms collected there, they built the church, the refectory and the other buildings, and on 2 November 1847, the church was consecrated’5 The new church, modelled on the one at Cernica, was dedicated to the same patron, the Holy Trinity, and was built on the same site.

For those interested, the inscription at the entrance to the church’s narthex provides a generous explanation in this regard:

“With the help of the Almighty God, glorified in the Trinity, this holy nunnery, named Pasărea, was built from the ground up in the year 1813 by the pious Father Timothei, Archim(mandrite) Cernichi(i), in the name of the Most Holy and Life-giving Trinity; and on 11 January 1838, when the church was destroyed by the earthquake that occurred, and in the year 1846 the old structures were demolished and this one was rebuilt from the foundations by the pious Father Calinic, Archimandrite(mandrit) Cernichi(i), with the help of devout Christians and through the diligence of the pious Dionisia, the abbess of this hermitage, whilst the reverend Iachint, the hieromonk of Cernica, oversaw all the work, during the reign of the faithful lord Gheorghie Dimitrie Bibescu, voivode, whilst His Eminence Neofit, Metropolitan, was Archbishop. 2 November 18476”.

Following Bishop Neofit’s departure to take up the leadership of the Metropolis of Ungrovlahia, the Diocese of Râmnic remained without a bishop for a long time—ten years. It was only at the end of this rather damaging and unfortunate period that Prince Barbu Știrbei (1849–1853, 1854–1856) ordered the election of a local hierarch, in the person of Saint Calinic, abbot of Cernica Monastery7 on a day of particular spiritual significance, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, 14 September 1850. He was ordained on another day with martyr-like connotations, on 26 October 1850, Saint Calinic was not yet 63 years old at the time, having spent 43 of those years at Cernica Monastery (the last 31 as abbot). Upon his arrival in the Diocese of Râmnic, a diocese steeped in ancient cultural and spiritual traditions, the saint set about restoring and strengthening the life of the diocese, amongst other duties, each as important and urgent as the next, including the restoration of the Cathedral of Râmnic, dedicated to Saint Nicholas the Hierarch, which had been destroyed by a devastating fire in 1847 8.

An ancient foundation, dating from the late 14th century, it had been through much: rebuilt by Matei Basarab, burnt and collapsed during the war (1736–1737), remodelled by Bishop Clement (1737–1745), burnt in 1847 9, only to be rebuilt once more during the tenure of Saint Calinic, between 1851 and 1856, as the inscription states:

‘To the glory of the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, this holy church, this holy church, known from ancient times as the Archdiocese of Râmnicu-Noul-Severin, by the God-loving Bishop of this Diocese, His Grace Calinic of Cernica, in honour of St. Hierarch Nicholas of Myra in Lycia, on the site where the church previously built by Archbishop Eftimie of Severin and Bishop Mihail had stood, but in the year 7243 (1735), during the war between the Turks and the Germans, it was burnt down; it was then rebuilt a second time by Bishop Climent, then from that time until the year 1847, it fell into disrepair due to age, as well as the fire that occurred that year in several towns, including this one, which consumed both part of the town and this Bishop’s See, along with everything in its vicinity and the infirmary; only a few broad walls remained until the year 1850, when, following the election held by the country’s general council, His Holiness D.D. Calinic, and seeing their dilapidated state with regret, not long afterwards set about first building the bishop’s residences, having no other place to live, then, driven by devotion, love and religious zeal, he began this holy church, as can be seen, from the foundations, and adorned it with frescoes, furnishings and other such things as may be seen, whilst also converting the seminary; furthermore, they rebuilt the houses near the Infirmary for the school of candidates for the priesthood, and other structures visible in the vicinity, all of which were completed during the reign of the most faithful ruler of the Country, Barbu Dimitrie, Știrbei Vodă, on 3 November 1856”.

During a pastoral visit to Vâlcea County, seven years after his installation as bishop in 1857, Saint Calinic also visited the Frăsinei Hermitage, where the secluded setting, the landscapes and the spiritual atmosphere of the place made a particularly deep impression on him. It is believed that the visit took place in 1859, and that work on the construction of the monastery began immediately the following year. The truth was established following the discovery of a letter from Saint Calinic dated 28 September 1864, addressed to the Minister of Religious Affairs, in which he stated that in 1857 he had found here, in the district of Vâlcea, in the Cozii region, a stone church with a cell attached, situated in a secluded spot known as the Frăsinei hermitage. All this, as well as ‘the location of the hermitage’, moved him deeply ‘to draw up, at a later date, a plan aimed at fulfilling an act of piety; and in 1859 we set to work, using our own resources, to build another, larger church near the old one, with surrounding houses to accommodate the monks wishing to settle there, just as with the church itself; and which, once duly completed and embellished, was given the name ‘New Frăsinei Hermitage’10”.

The impression that the beauty of the place left on Saint Calinic’s soul was also emphasised in the bishop’s decree unifying the Frăsinei hermitage with that at Slătioarele, where it is stated that, in view of “the beautiful location of the Frăsinei hermitage”, “we have commissioned the construction there of another, larger church in honour of the feast of the Dormition of the Mother of God…”11, the inscription merely briefly noting all this:

‘†For the glory of the Holy Trinity, the One God, and in honour of the Dormition of the Mother of God, this Holy Church, with its bell tower and surrounding cells, was built from the ground up by the humble Bishop of Rm-Noul Severin, D.D. Calinicu Cernicanu, to be inhabited by monastic fathers living in community; joined by Scitu Slătioarele, also from this district, by an act of His Holiness dated 1860, legalised by His Most Holy Father the Metropolitan: His Eminence Nifon Cernicanu under No. 2 in March of the same year; 9, so that both might be looked after by the sole abbot of Frăsinei. This was to ensure their better support from the income of their property, which was not subject to any other establishment. They were consecrated on 12 May 1863”.

All of these were erected within a wholly distinctive architectural context, in which the Romanian artistic world was undergoing “the dispute between the ‘modernists’ and the ‘traditionalists’, as recorded in newspaper announcements… or reflected in the props used in votive portraits such as those at St Ilie in Botoșani…”12.

The Romantic context of the period in which the churches were built

From a historical and architectural perspective, the early decades of the nineteenth century fall within the Romantic movement, known as Neo-Gothic. This style had been adopted by Prince Gheorghe Bibescu (1843–1848) and continued by his successor, Barbu Știrbei (1849–1853). The former was a remarkable figure, having studied in Bucharest and Paris, and a staunch ‘idoliser of our past’ – which is why, at his coronation in 1843 at Curtea Veche, he took the oath of office dressed in the costume of Prince Mihai Viteazul, whose tomb at Dealu he was to visit shortly afterwards. During his brief reign, he took some positive measures, in that he increased the size of the army, brought order to the country’s finances, and helped the victims in Bucharest who had lost their homes following the most devastating fire, which occurred on Easter Day in 1847.

In fact, the entire generation of that era had begun to recognise the man who had never bowed his head to anyone and whom the circumstances of his life and death had placed among the ranks of heroic martyrs. Nicolae Bălcescu was to begin his monumental work The Romanians under Mihai-Voievod the Brave in 1846. Dimitrie Bolintineanu dedicated several poems to him, which formed a veritable cycle chronicling the life of the national hero (Mihai and the Executioner, Mihai at the Forester’s, The Death of Mihai Viteazul)13; the memory of the great voivode remained ever-living, so that, several decades later, George Coșbuc was to glorify him in the ballad Pașa Hassan 14. In the field of the visual arts, the painter Theodor Aman produced The Last Night of Mihai Viteazul in 1852; the theme of this painting marked the beginning of a series of works inspired by the history and traditions of the Romanian people, characteristic of the patriotism of the 1848 generation.

However, whilst the great voivode remains in the collective memory of Romanian ecclesiastical architecture as a valiant upholder of tradition, having built the famous Mihai Vodă Monastery in Bucharest 15, the two rulers mentioned above distinguished themselves by launching a fairly extensive campaign aimed at the ‘modernisation’ of several representative monasteries 16.

Eager to follow in the footsteps of his predecessors, Voivode Bibescu decided to restore the monasteries of Bistrița in Vâlcea and Dealu near Târgoviște, two of the earliest Romanian monastic foundations. Realising the complexity of the work, he employed, for the first time, qualified architects from abroad, amongst whom the ‘architect’ Johann (Ioan) Schlatter 17 was even awarded the title of ‘monastic architect’, a title by virtue of which he also worked on other traditional monasteries – Tismana, Curtea de Argeș, Cozia, Arnota – where he created entirely new complexes, ‘true romantic castles’18.

Unfortunately for our tradition, “the ‘restoration’ approach of these pioneers, unfamiliar with the characteristics of Wallachian art, who rebuilt the old edifices without any concern for preserving their original appearance, is questionable and, quite rightly, contested, since those interventions, most of which were irreversible, led to the forced and strange—often slightly bizarre—incorporation of neo-Gothic architectural elements onto a Byzantine framework.

This ‘modernisation’ in the Neo-Gothic style of our old monasteries is now considered ‘“disfiguring”, though the romantic aspect of these artistically unsuccessful creations is not disputed’19). The same cannot be said of the interventions of Saint Calinic, who, in his foundations, applied several basic architectural principles in keeping with centuries-old tradition; among these, I shall begin with the three-conch structure of the churches, which were built not merely ‘To the glory of the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit…’, but also taking the Trinity as the model for the plan with its three apses.

The trinitarian structure of the plan of the four monastic churches

In accordance with the Byzantine tradition, the naos of Romanian monastic churches features a triconch structure, found as far back as the earliest monastic settlements and which, as an architectural style representative of Mount Athos (with its variants, such as that without pillars in the nave), has become ‘the defining monument of a monastery, built as soon as a monastic community settled, with charters from tsars, kings, princes and voivodes, in lands where true Orthodoxy was to be spread through deed and word’, whilst on the Balkan Peninsula the link between ‘monastic missionary work for the propagation of Orthodoxy in the Slavonic language and the architectural plan of the triconch’20 is evident. The reason for its adoption, and above all for its persistence in Romanian monastic architecture 21, cannot be explained solely by the functional role of the two side apses of the naos, which were ideal for the two rows of monks’ seats, but also by the symbolism of the triad of apses forming a cross 22, the triconch thus also serving as an icon of the Holy Trinity 23.

Thus, throughout the entire Romanian medieval period—which was indebted to and steadfastly faithful to architectural principles determined by liturgical rather than merely personal considerations— the triconch remained the established plan for monastic settings, particularly during the last great artistic era, the Brâncoveanu period, in which this plan—or its simplified form, the trefoil plan—was characteristic of monastery churches 24. Despite all the innovations brought about by the wave of Westernisation in Romanian art and in spite of all the artistic ‘temptations’, monastic architecture firmly upheld the banner of tradition, never straying from the path of preserving a triconch plan typology, with various interpretations. During the historical period of the nineteenth century to which we refer, the ‘career of the classicised triconch’ still had a glorious future ahead of it, ‘the church of Pasărea Monastery, St Catherine’s in Bucharest, the chapel of the Diocese of Buzău, and others still adopted it, without historicist prejudices’25 Consequently, Saint Calinic also chose, for his churches, the same structure with three apses—two in the nave, crowned by that specific to the Holy Altar.

Throughout the entire Romanian medieval period, which was indebted to and steadfastly faithful to architectural principles rooted in liturgical rather than merely personal considerations, the triconch remained the plan favoured in monastic settings, particularly during the last great artistic era, the Brâncoveanu period, in which this plan—or its simplified form, the trefoil plan—was characteristic of monastery churches.

The four churches mentioned also preserve the tradition of the tripartite division specific to Orthodox places of worship, the narthex, the nave and the sanctuary, to which is added an enclosed porch in front of the narthex, a space also considered, at the time, to be absolutely essential. Unfortunately, however, the interior space is no longer so well structured, its vastness overwhelming the soul upon entering the narthex, which is only vaguely separated from the naos – a practice that has been common for some time in the ecclesiastical architecture of the Romanian Principalities. This may be why it has been said of the church at Cernica that ‘the interior lacks the grandeur of St Nicholas’ Church, both in terms of proportions and, above all, in the nobility of its paintings. We are faced with a vast space, upon which the Baroque has left its mark’26 – a statement which could equally apply to the church of Pasărea Monastery.

Once past the porch, anyone stepping inside the churches at Cernica, Pasărea and Râmnic is overwhelmed by the utterly unique spatial structure of the interior, in which the narthex is not only no longer separate from the nave, but is also particularly spacious. Furthermore, the churches are of generous dimensions; for example, the one at Cernica is 43 m long, 11 m wide and 15 m high (and can be ‘ranked amongst the largest in the country’27), whilst the one at Pasărea is 39 m long 28 and 15 m wide. Generally speaking, the narthex is spacious, with the vaulted ceiling above supported by two simple, unfluted columns, and the absence of any major demarcation between it and the nave creates the impression that it flows into the nave’s space, integrating with it and forming a single whole.

Thus, the cathedral-like proportions of the three churches 29 are apparent from the very entrance, from where the interior is revealed—a quality further emphasised by the particularly well-balanced architectural decorative elements. The overall ensemble, however, is harmonious; the system of curves formed by the arches, arcades and full-centred vaults, and semicircular domes, all fall within the traditional family of concave forms and serve to reinforce the sense of protection and peace experienced within the sacred space of the church, regarded as the Mother Church. 30 The semi-circular shape of the vault is also reminiscent of that of the rainbow, which, in turn, is linked to Noah’s Ark, there being a ‘close connection between the symbolism of Noah’s ark and that of the rainbow, suggested in the biblical text by its appearance after the Flood as a sign of the covenant between God and the creatures of the earth’31. Consequently, with a view to the constructive and architectural design of church interiors, Saint Calinic chose certain forms already established in Byzantine-tradition ecclesiastical architecture, notably the traditional semicircular arch (or full-circle arch), as well as the vault itself, whose very name, ‘cradle vault’, defines the symbolic coordinates of the space’s maternal significance.

Another traditional element of monastic architecture in Wallachia is the porch, which has been present since the 15th century 32 and by the 17th century had already become a virtually obligatory feature of churches. Furthermore, the mild climate of the Sub-Carpathian regions allowed it to be open, a feature that lent it greater visual spectacle – through the rhythmic alternation of full-arch vaults or those ending in ingenious variations of the ogee arch, in an intriguing interplay of light and shadow.

However, in the case of the porticoes at Cernica, Pasărea and Râmnic, they were bricked up shortly after the churches were completed, probably for practical reasons – to serve as an extension of the service held in the narthex, but also as a sheltered space against the wind during the colder seasons. In some cases, such as at Pasărea, three openings were designed on all three sides (the largest being on the western side), a feature which allowed for a wide opening onto the monastery grounds and formed a cross at the level of the access routes (the intersection of the longitudinal axis entering the church with the transverse axis of the two side doors)33.

The plan layout of all four churches was complemented by a small porch, which precedes the entrance to the main porch, serving as a first step before ascending the mountain symbolised by the church. This architectural element, found in one of the most valuable churches in the Muntenia region (Hurezi, 1693), in one of the most successful aesthetic solutions, was to become a natural feature of ecclesiastical architecture by the mid-19th century, allowing us to speak of a certain tradition specific to Wallachia 34.

As regards the proportions of the churches analysed, they adhere to ratios that lend them balance and harmony; G. M. Cantacuzino remarked of the church at Cernica that ‘the church’s vast proportions are harmonious…’ 35, which can also be said of their volumetry.

The triad of vertical accents in the volume

As was only natural in a space of profound spiritual experience, the churches of the great monasteries (Cernica, Pasărea and Râmnic) feature a three-towered layout, one large one on the nave and two smaller ones above the narthex 36, a style which was not new to Romanian medieval architecture, having first appeared in Radu cel Mare’s church at Dealu (1501)37. Subsequently, the architectural style from Dealu influenced the churches that followed, establishing itself as a tradition. Unfortunately, under the influence of Western ecclesiastical architecture, the structure of churches with three towers (two secondary, one main) underwent a volumetric transformation, in that the two secondary towers were moved away from the large one on the nave, coming to be situated right at the entrance to the church, like small watchtowers.

Despite the obvious awkwardness in the proportions of the two small towers, which, particularly at Pasărea and the Bishop’s Church, are excessively slender in relation to their height, nevertheless, when viewed in the context of the overall volume, the ensemble is not without a certain harmony. The body of the church, which exhibits a pleasing ratio between length and height, supports the three vertical accents which, like solemn sentinels, stand watch, their height dominating the monastery courtyard and rousing numb souls to constant prayer, as in a perpetual architectural representation of the stream of praise offered to the Creator day and night.

The great spire, rising above the nave, towers over and watches over the entire complex, like Christ Pantocrator (in a natural correlation with His presence in the painting on the dome of the nave’s spire), towards which the two smaller spires seem to bow and almost prostrate themselves, like the two intercessors, the Mother of God and Saint John the Baptist – all becoming an immense architectural Deesis adorning the upper part of the church. Whilst the small towers are closed off, with no connection to the interior of the narthex, the large tower, by contrast, illuminates the nave through its windows – usually four in number – facing the four cardinal points.

This classical volumetry, elegant and restrained in its structure, resonates with the design of the façades, which are no less sober and understated as a whole, yet do not exclude the occasional inclusion of floral decorative elements.

The façade’s mouldings – a balance between simplicity and floral ornamentation

Whilst, in terms of layout and volumetric structure, Saint Calinic strictly adhered to the tradition already firmly established in Romanian ecclesiastical architecture, with regard to the adoption of a specific decorative vocabulary for the façades, the options were somewhat broader, as the mid-19th century was characterised by various stylistic trends – as I pointed out earlier. The church adopted the white-painted façade, a feature that had already become traditional by the 17th century and was characterised as ‘the typical solution of the Brâncoveanu era’, since it represented a technique capable of conferring ‘monumentality and unity to the architectural volumes’, in an architectural style that ‘seems to evoke current trends in the Greek, southern world’38. On these luminous façades, the mouldings characteristic of the architecture of the churches in question stand out clearly, yet without ostentation, with discretion but also with the necessary firmness.

Surprisingly, however, certain elements specific to medieval Romanian architecture were not adopted, namely the two rows of narrow, tall arches 39 that characterise the exterior surface of almost all the churches. Originally finished with round arches, from the 17th century onwards ogee arches began to be preferred, tri-lobed or poly-lobed, of clearly Eastern origin, and which, in the case of the churches analysed in this study, define only the aesthetics of the open narthex.

In particular, fitting naturally within the preference for clearly geometrical forms, the façades at Cernica, Pasărea, Râmnic and Frăsinei are rigorously divided into rectangular panels, larger or smaller depending on the size of the church, and which, separated by pilasters that are not very clearly defined and which run the full height of the church, roughly mark out the nave, the narthex and the porch. Thus, the pilasters on the façades of all these churches do not constitute a particularly distinctive architectural solution; but serve to create a vertical counterbalance to the horizontal elements, which are thus highlighted by this interesting intersection of horizontal and vertical directions; the latter act as sentinels drawing attention to the important parts of the church. Of particular interest is the design at Râmnic, where the pilasters, which usually flank the corners of the chancel and the porch, have been replaced by engaged columns that soften the harshness of those corners.

Another decorative element specific to the architecture of Wallachia is the central frieze (40), a relief ornament that encircles the middle section of the building, and for which, naturally, the aesthetic justification is supported by a spiritual one as well. The Holy Scriptures state that ‘only those in whom the fires of carnal desires had been extinguished wore a belt…’41; and Saint Paul the Apostle urged Christians to put on the full armour of God, so that they might stand firm on the evil day, and, having overcome all things, remain standing: ‘Stand firm, therefore, with your loins girded with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace’ (Ephesians VI, 13–15)42. The Church, understood as a mystical body, the pure bride of Christ the Bridegroom, is herself forever girded with the belt of purity, of the victorious power against her enemies, with places of worship following this model – which is why the belt, characteristic of Romanian architecture, represents something more than a mere decorative element 43. Present on almost all medieval buildings, by the 18th century it had not disappeared, but had shifted to the upper third of the churches, whilst the arches in the upper register had been transformed into medallions.

On the façades of the four churches founded by Saint Calinic analysed in this study, the belt remains a decorative element which, although not very strongly emphasised, marks the upper section, at approximately one-fifth of the total height of the wall 44. Departing from the impartiality of the old central band and moving towards the cornice, at first glance it appears to ‘compromise’ with the latter, in an effort to mark only the upper part of the churches at the expense of the lower part – whereas, in reality, it fits naturally between the plinth and the cornice, succeeding in establishing a dialogue between the two decorative architectural structures, profiled as discreetly as possible. As for the decorative profile, whilst at Pasărea, Râmnic and Frăsinei it is simple – an extremely prominent torus, as if eager to break away from the not very wide band on which it is situated andalong which it extends across the entire surface of the church – at Cernica it is embellished with a decorative scroll, tightly twisted around its circular form.

On all four of the monuments mentioned, the upper register features medallions in the form of niches, the shape of which varies from one church to another. At Pasărea there are circular dots, only opposite the windows and the pilasters; these are quite small compared with the rest of the façade and are arranged like plates on concentric circles. At the Diocesan Church, medallions appear opposite the nave which, surprisingly, are no longer circular but ellipsoidal, whilst those opposite the altar and the porch are rectangular, whilst at Frăsinei we find some simple, circular niches, devoid of any decorative pattern. The most intricate structure is found at Cernica, where, above each window, there is a medallion encircling a seraphim, in an iconographic style clearly influenced by the West, framed by garlands of ‘45’ flowers, as well as other floral motifs, all crafted in stucco.

The windows play a far from negligible role in defining the vertical axes of the façade; they vary in both placement and shape from one church to another, establishing an interesting dialogue between solid and void. The most rigorous arrangement is found at Cernica, where five rectangular openings, all absolutely identical, have been designed, running along the body of the church at the same height and crowned by the one on the axis of the altar apse. In the other churches, the windows vary in both size and arrangement, creating a varied interplay of openings on the rather austere façades.

Whilst, on the whole, the church façades adhere to classical patterns, characterised by clear geometric forms (rectangular or circular, with the requisite variations), by contrast, the porticoes at Cernica and Pasărea boast a wholly distinctive vocabulary of forms, as if plucked from another world, with baroque iridescence. The traditional ogee arches characteristic of 17th–18th-century architecture are present, albeit in a rather exaggerated form, alluding to the elongation typical of Mannerist styles, whilst the outline of the edges is entirely distinctive. The design begins with a curve-counter-curve system, subtly marked vertically, followed by a sudden right-angle turn, after which the shape continues as a pointed ogee arch – the overall effect being further enhanced by the fact that the edges are doubled. In total, there are five blind arches on the porch’s façades: two on the side façades, two on either side of the entrance (all of which are narrow and of the same size), and the last one flanking the entrance to the church. This central, large arch has sacrificed vertical height in favour of horizontal breadth, whilst retaining the same decorative structure. Surprisingly, at Râmnic, the ogee arches—with their hints of Gothic forms—no longer appear; instead, the sober forms of semicircular arches are favoured.

We cannot know what the sources of inspiration were for these fascinating blind arcades – such forms also being found at the church in Cernica – but we may suspect a certain, albeit not entirely certain, Gothic influence (a variation on the pointed arch), although Russian influences cannot be ruled out either – the elongated shapes of the porch’s arcades bearing a resemblance to the spires of those churches, like flames rising towards the sky, a cluster of five candles guarding the entrance to the main church.

The Neoclassical Perspective, or the Need for Balance

It is particularly interesting that, although the churches in question were built at the height of a period enamoured with Gothic forms, the decorative vocabulary of the façades remained indebted to the older style evident in Romanian architecture: the Neoclassical. To put forward any hypotheses regarding the founder’s aesthetic choices would be a bold undertaking, unsupported by viable arguments. A chronicle of the artistic and cultural events of the early nineteenth century reveals that, in the newspapers of the time, as well as in the votive paintings of churches in Moldavia or Wallachia, one could read of ‘the dispute between “modernists” and “traditionalists”’46; and if ‘the ecclesiastical centres of Neamț, Huși, Roman or Vâlcea emerged, in turn, as active promoters of classicism in architecture, painting or the applied arts, this could also be explained by the fruitful contributions of figures such as Iacov Stamati 47, the founder of the Banu Church in Iași, Leon Gheuca 48, Gherasim Clipa 49, Chesarie 50, Grigore Râmniceanu 51 or Calinic of Râmnic (n.n.), all of whom were significant figures of Enlightenment-era clericalism (n.n.)52”.

Above all, it is evident that Saint Calinic was a lover of order, clarity and harmony, which is why the design of the large church is rather restrained and balanced, that is to say, one influenced by the Neoclassical style, which had been prevalent some time previously. It is worth noting that, in contrast to the Baroque (a style which “interpreted classical Roman architecture with the aim of achieving striking effects and exaggerated emotionality, using forms with many twisted, irrational curves” 53), Classicism interpreted the elements of that same classical architecture, relying on ‘reason, simplicity and sobriety’54

…it is evident that Saint Calinic was a lover of order, clarity and harmony.

From this point of view, whilst Cernica features decorative floral panels that adorn the windows in a manner with Baroque accents, the large church at Pasărea differs from the former in its simplicity and austerity, which evoke a classical atmosphere and grandeur. Built by Saint Calinic shortly after the completion of the church at Cernica Monastery, the church at Pasărea Monastery closely followed, naturally adopting many of the architectural and pictorial aesthetic features, but which it interpreted in its own, more sober and restrained manner. Finally, I would cite just two arguments in favour of the classical framework I have applied to Saint Calinic: one evident in the restraint of the architectural forms, and the other in the very appearance of his buildings, of which I would mention only the archbishops’ residences at Râmnic55 All these were erected on the initiative and, almost certainly, under the direct supervision of a man who, although not an architect by profession, was deeply concerned with and skilled in a different kind of building.

The architect of souls

Nowadays, the world is full of architects—whether brilliant or merely run-of-the-mill, talented and admired, celebrated or forgotten—as the profession is no longer a rarity, being listed in the Nomenclature of Professions, from which we learn of the specialisations within each category: building architect, restoration architect; urban planning, landscape architecture and spatial planning architect; and chief architect 56. In the early nineteenth century and a little later, at the time when the monuments mentioned in this study were built, the concept of an architect or ‘arhitecton’ had become established during the first decades of the nineteenth century; however, in official documents, Alexandru Orăscu 57 himself was referred to, at the start of his career, by the title ‘“maimarbașa”’ (a corruption of ‘meermerbașa’, a Turkish loanword meaning, literally: ‘foreman of the plasterers’)58, thus reflecting an ambiguity regarding the identity of his profession. Often, the patron would intervene directly in the design process, offering suggestions which, beyond their inherent amateurishness, revealed the patron’s aesthetic concepts.

From the multitude of architects, some were involved in the design and construction of places of worship—Christian or non-Christian, Orthodox or otherwise— fruits worthy of the ‘good reward’ of self-sacrificing piety, intended to be spaces of unceasing prayer, built from local materials, with technical ingenuity and durability that have often withstood the test of time, each of these Romanian ecclesiastical buildings stands as the most vivid testimony to the Beauty that transfigures matter, having been built for the glory of God, for the eternal remembrance of those who laboured to build them, but also for the spiritual edification of those who pass through their sacred spaces in prayer. Others, from being mere fishermen, became ‘fishers of men’ (Matthew 4:19; Mark 1:17; Luke 5:10), labouring not only to catch souls in the Church’s net, but also to build them up spiritually 59, becoming true ‘architects of souls’, in the image of the ‘faithful Creator’60 and the ‘Architect of the universe’61—God, Who not only created the world but continues to care for it, working to restore it and return it to its original beauty.

*

The present study has focused solely on four churches—whether newly built, rebuilt or remodelled—churches both large and small, all erected with great toil and labour, but in which ‘success has made one forget both the toil and the weariness, and the bitterness’ be forgotten’, since any creation, ‘be it a cathedral, a church, a palace, a statue or a fresco, pure of any trace of suffering, remains as a miracle born of a game’62

Viewed from the heights of the centuries that separate us from its beginnings, the architecture of Romanian churches and monasteries unfolds like a tree trunk once it has been planted and nurtured within the Byzantine tradition, it skilfully and ingeniously allowed the grafting of new stylistic varieties—whether indigenous or geographically distant, and often spiritually alien— but which, once planted there, grew in their own right, culminating in a harmonious aesthetic flowering in the Orthodox spirit. In practice, the entire history of Romanian art illustrates this adoption of an architectural tradition shaped by various influences, which in turn gave rise to what is called a ‘style’, specific to an era or region; and, ‘since history drew closer to the exact sciences, legend has regained its freedom to interpret the past with all the humanity and tenderness necessary to win over and penetrate the anonymous soul of the many and the simple…’63

In keeping with this same aim of preserving, as far as was possible at the time, the ‘beauty of the House of the Lord’—as this study has sought to demonstrate—are the churches of the monasteries of Cernica, Pasărea, the Archdiocese of Râmnic and Frăsinei – true architectural legacies of the great Holy Hierarch of Cernica and Râmnic, each preserving the specific architectural style of its founder, an architect with neoclassical vision, in a neo-Romantic world.

Imagine

• 1

  Emil LĂZĂRESCU, The Church of Argeș Monastery, Meridiane Publishers, Bucharest, 1967, p. 7.

• 2

  G. M. CANTACUZINO, ‘Cernica and Pantelimon’, in Izvoare și popasuri, Eminescu Publishers, Bucharest, 1977, p. 190.

• 3

  I. L. GEORGESCU, Roman STANCIU, Cernica Monastery, Meridiane Publishers, Bucharest, 1967, p. 19.

• 4

  I. L. GEORGESCU, R. STANCIU, Cernica Monastery, p. 19.

• 5

  Casian of Cernica, The Histories of the Holy Monasteries of Cernica and Căldărușani, Toma Teodorescu Press, Bucharest, 1870, pp. 121–122.

• 6

  Archimandrite Efrem ENĂCESCU, In the Footsteps of Our Ancestors, Church Books Printing House, Bucharest, 1938, pp. 109–110; Grigore Popescu, ‘Pasărea Monastery – the monastery between waters and forests’, in Glasul Bisericii, XLVI, 1987, no. 3, p. 81; Orthodox Monasteries, no. 93: Pasărea, ‘Orthodox Monasteries – Discover the Holy Places’ series, published by De AGOSTINI HELLAS SRL, consultant Emanoil Dumitru, Bucharest, 2012, pp. 4–5.

• 7

  Nicolae ȘERBĂNESCU, ‘The Bishops of Râmnic’, in Mitropolia Olteniei, vol. XVI, no. 3–4, March–April, Craiova, 1964, p. 199.

• 8

  Having broken out on 23 March, the first day of Easter, the fire spread rapidly, fanned by a fierce wind, making it extremely difficult to extinguish (even after a month, it was still smouldering in scattered places), George POTRA, From the Bucharest of Yesteryear, Ed. Științifică și Enciclopedică, Bucharest, 1990, vol. 1, pp. 155–156.

• 9

  Nicolae STOICESCU, Bibliography of Localities and Feudal Monuments in Romania, Wallachia (Muntenia, Oltenia and Dobrogea), Metropolitan See of Oltenia, Craiova, vol. 2, pp. 540–541.

• 10

  Gabriel Cocora, ‘Saint Calinic’s Concern for the Frăsinei Hermitage’, in Mitropolia Olteniei, XVI (1964), no. 7–8, p. 616. Whilst the date on which construction of a new church began was a matter of controversy, N. Stoicescu, in Bibliography of Localities and Feudal Monuments in Romania, vol. 1, p. 315, indicates the year 1860 (Frăsinei Hermitage, Frăsinei, the large church, dedicated to the Dormition of the Mother of God, “built by Bishop Calinic, 1860–1863, church painted by Mișu Popp, Muiereasca commune, Vâlcea County); the saint’s correspondence not only revealed his concern for his foundation, but also clarified the start of its construction, in 1859, ‘and not 1860, as had previously been thought’ (Gabriel Cocora, ‘From the Concerns of Saint Calinic…’, p. 616).

• 11

  T. C. Bulat, ‘Documents left by Saint Calinic relating to the monasteries’, in Mitropolia Olteniei, vol. XX, nos. 5–6, May–June, Craiova, 1968, p. 416.

• 12

  Mihai Ispir, Classicism in Romanian Art, Meridiane, Bucharest, 1984, p. 46.

• 13

  This fact would lead George Topârceanu to include Dimitrie Bolintineanu amongst the authors he parodied. In Mihai Viteazul and the Turks, with his characteristic irony, he highlighted the voivode’s effectiveness, who, in such a short space of time, achieved so much: “… And having said this, he took an axe in his hand,/Quickly rallied the Romanian army around him/And, charging headlong with them, without delay,/Shattered and repelled the Turkish army./Even Sinan Pasha, utterly humiliated,/ Fell into the water and lost two teeth./ And Mihai Viteazul, after two hours,/ Erected a monastery and held three memorial services!”

• 14

  “The savage prince is clad in chain mail and iron/And his chain mail clanks fiercely,/A gigantic dome rests upon his brow/And his voice is thunder, his breath a frost,/Whilst the axe in his left hand reaches to the heavens,/And the prince is a mountain.”

• 15

  Which, unfortunately but also fortunately, has been significantly altered. Unfortunately, because it no longer stands in its original architectural context, but fortunately because it has been preserved, albeit having been moved from the neighbouring hill to what is now Sapienției Street.

• 16

  Monica MĂRGINEANU-CÂRSTOIU, Romanticism in Architecture, Meridiane, Bucharest, 1990, pp. 142–148.

• 17

  In the Universal Dictionary of Architects, Paul Constantin devotes five and a half lines to Johann Shlatter: “German architect. Active in Romania. He restored the church of Antim Monastery in Bucharest (c. 1860); he rebuilt the Oltenian monasteries of Bistrița and Tismana (in collaboration)” (Paul Constantin, Universal Dictionary of Architects, Ed. Științifică și Enciclopedică, 1986, Bucharest, p. 288).

• 18

  Monica MĂRGINEANU-CÂRSTOIU, Romanticism in Architecture, pp. 144–145

• 19

  Pavel CHIHAIA, ‘Two reports by the architect Ioan Schlatter from 1847’, in BOR, 86 (1968) 3–5, p. 490.

• 20

  Răzvan THEODORESCU, ‘On the triconch plan in early medieval architecture of south-eastern Europe’, in Studies and Research in Art History, Visual Arts series, vol. 20, no. 2, 1973, p. 224.

• 21

  Mihaela PALADE, ‘Aspects of Mount Athos’ contribution to the maintenance of the triconchial plan in Romanian sacred architecture’, in European Journal of Science and Theology, June 2007, vol. 3, no. 4.

• 22

  Mihaela PALADE, ‘The Structural Typology of the Triconch in the Light of the Sacrifice on the Cross’, in Glasul Bisericii, 54 (2005), 5–8; Mihaela PALADE, ‘The Holy Cross – the foundation of Orthodox ecclesiastical architecture’, in Ortodoxia, 58 (2007), 3.

• 23

  Mihaela PALADE, ‘The Trinitarian Structure of the Athonite Liturgical Space’, in Tabor, II (2008), 4, 2008.

• 24

  Cotroceni, Hurezi, Berca, Râmnicul Sărat, Mamul, Colțea, Surpatele, Sfântul Gheorghe Nou, Govora, Antim, Văcărești, Kretzulescu, to which are added the hermitages: Lespezi, Fedeleșoiu, Sărăcinești, Sfântul Ștefan Hurezi (Corina POPA, ‘The Foundations of the Brâncoveanu Era’, in The Brâncoveanu Legacy, Brâncoveanu Palaces Cultural Centre, Mogoșoaia, 2008, p. 23).

• 25

  Mihai ISPIR, Classicism in Romanian Art, Meridiane, Bucharest, 1984, p. 56.

• 26

  I. L. GEORGESCU, Roman Stanciu, Cernica Monastery, p. 19.

• 27

  G. M. Cantacuzino, ‘Cernica and Pantelimon’, p. 191.

• 28

  As it lacks the cafas found in the church at Cernica.

• 29

  I have mentioned only those at Cernica, Pasărea and Râmnic, as the one at Frăsinei is rather small.

• 30

  It is no coincidence that the semicircular vault arching over the church interior is known as a ‘cradle vault’; this term is also found in other European languages: in French, voute en berceau (berceau = cradle), and in English, cradle vault (cradle = cradle) (cf. Dictionary of Art, Bucharest, Meridiane Publishing House, vol. I, 1995, p. 70).

• 31

  René Guénon, Le Roi du Monde, Paris, 1939, pp. 11–12, cited in † Nicolae Corneanu, Patristica mirabilia – Pages from the Literature of the Early Christian Centuries, published by the Metropolitan See of Banat, Timișoara, 1987, pp. 332–333; J. Chevalier, A. Gheerbrant, Dictionary of Symbols, vol. I, Artemis Press, Bucharest, 1995, p. 421.

• 32

  It appears that the church built by Radu the Great at Tismana had an open narthex; from the traces left by subsequent alterations, it can be seen that it surrounded the narthex on three sides, with a row of semi-circular arches and the smallest of the church’s towers situated on the central axis, cf. Rada Teodoru, Mănăstirea Tismana, Ed. Meridiane, Bucharest, 1966, pp. 14–16.

• 33

  For practical reasons, the two side doors were bricked up. In his analysis carried out in 1969, I. D. Ștefănescu mentions the two side doors, I. D. ȘTEFĂNESCU, ‘The School of Painting at the Monasteries of Cernica and Căldărușani – the apprenticeship of N. Grigorescu’, in GB, XXVIII, 1969, nos. 3–4, p. 377). Most likely, they were built during the works carried out between 1972 and 1973 (they appear in the original plans).

• 34

  It can be seen in the main church of Bistrița Vâlcea Monastery, the Church of the Holy Trinity at Sinaia Monastery (1842–1846), at Zamfira and Suzana, to name but a few of the best-known and most important churches of the time.

• 35

  G. M. CANTACUZINO, ‘Cernica and Pantelimon’, p. 191.

• 36

  I. L. GEORGESCU, Roman STANCIU, Cernica Monastery, p. 10.

• 37

  Where the entire building exhibits a distinctive volumetry, far more balanced than in the single-spire variants, the significance of those secondary towers being of ‘particular importance in the composition, ensuring a balance of accents and the cohesion of the outline’, Virgil VĂTĂȘIANU, A History of Feudal Art in the Romanian Lands, Ed. Meridiane, Bucharest, 1959, p. 484.

• 38

  Corina POPA, Ioana IANCOVESCU, Hurezi Monastery, Simetria Publishers, Bucharest, 2009, p. 75.

• 39

  They first appeared at the church of Dealu Monastery, Târgoviște, in 1501, where they served a purely decorative rather than a structural purpose (cf. Grigore IONESCU, Architecture in Romania through the Centuries, published by Academy of the Socialist Republic of Romania, Bucharest, 1981, p. 252).

• 40

  It first appeared at the Dealu foundation as well.

• 41

  Saint John Cassian, Monastic Rules and Spiritual Conversations, translated by Prof. Vasile Cojocaru and Prof. David Popescu, with a preface, introductory study and notes by Prof. Nicolae Chițescu, PSB series, no. 57, published by IBMBOR, Bucharest, 1990, p. 119.

• 42

  And Saint Peter, after recalling the prophets who had foretold the grace that was to come to us, advised the Christians as follows: ‘Therefore, gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ’ (1 Peter 1:13).

• 43

  Mihaela PALADE, ‘The Symbolic Significance of the String-course in Orthodox Sacred Architecture’, in European Journal of Science and Theology, June 2007, vol. 3, no. 2.

• 44

  Generally speaking, this rather unusual positioning of the belt is not noted in the studies. For example, the monograph on Cernica Monastery merely states that ‘the surface of the side walls is divided into two registers (author’s note) by a twisted belt.’ (I. L. GEORGESCU, Roman STANCIU, Cernica Monastery, p. 19.)

• 45

  I. L. GEORGESCU, Roman STANCIU, Cernica Monastery, p. 19.

• 46

  Mihai ISPIR, Classicism in Romanian Art, p. 46.

• 47

  Metropolitan Iacob STAMATI (baptised Ioan) – born 24 June 1749, in the Bistrița region, Transylvania; died 11/12 March 1803, in Iași. He entered the monastic life at Neamț Monastery (1764), where he received his education; he served as a hieromonk and treasurer of the monastery, then at the Metropolitan See (1774); on 9 December 1782, he was elected Bishop of Huși (ordained the following day, enthroned on 18 December); on 21 June 1792, he was elected Metropolitan of Moldavia, serving in that role until his death. He was particularly noted for his administrative achievements: new residences in Huși and Iași, and the restoration of the ‘Stretenia’ and ‘St George’ churches in Iași; he founded the ‘Banu’ Church in Iași; cf. Rev. Prof. Mircea PĂCURARIU, Dictionary of Romanian Theologians, Ed. Enciclopedică, Bucharest, 2002, p. 447.

• 48

  Metropolitan Leon GHEUCĂ – born c. 1730, died 1788, in Iași. He took the monastic vows at Putna Monastery, served as protosinghel at the Metropolis of Iași, and was Bishop of Roman (2 February 1769–1786); Metropolitan of Moldavia (elected 2 March 1786 – died 1788). A leading figure in the Enlightenment movement, a bibliophile and a friend of the Serbian scholar Dositei Obradovici, with whom he sent two young men to study at Halle. He supported schools in Moldavia and the archpriest-printer Mihail Strilbițchi; he encouraged translations into Romanian, particularly of Enlightenment moral and philosophical literature: from the Swedish writer Axel Oxenstierna, from Fenelon (The Adventures of Telemachus), the novel Etiopica, and is credited with compiling the collection of Enlightenment texts entitled On the Science of the Elements. On the national-political front, he held anti-Greek and anti-Ottoman views (his vigorous intervention put an end to a revolt by the Janissaries in Iași); (cf. Rev. Prof. Mircea PĂCURARIU, Dictionary of Romanian Theologians, p. 199).

• 49

  Bishop Gherasim Clipa – born c. 1760 in Vicovu de Sus, Suceava County, into a family of priests (Barbovschi); died on 15 March 1826 in Iași. He became a monk at Putna Monastery, where he was educated at the ‘spiritual school’ organised by Vartolomei Măzăreanu. Following the Austrian occupation of Northern Moldavia (1775), he moved to Slatina Monastery, where he became treasurer; he held the same post at the Metropolitan See (1787); Bishop of Huși (2 June 1796, ordained the following day), then of Roman (25 March 1803), where he served until his death (with an interruption during the Greek Revolt: 1821–1822). A representative of the Enlightenment movement in Moldavia, he encouraged the translation of works into Romanian; cf. Rev. Prof. Mircea PĂCURARIU, Dictionary of Romanian Theologians, p. 109.

• 50

  Chesarie, Bishop of Râmnic, born c. 1720 in Bucharest to the Halepliu family, who were probably originally from Aleppo in Syria; died on 9 January 1780 in Râmnicu-Vâlcea. He studied at the Princely School in Bucharest. After taking monastic vows, he became ecclesiarch at the Metropolitan Cathedral and protosinghel of the Metropolis. He translated and published Simion of Thessaloniki’s work Voroavă de întrebări și răspunsuri (Bucharest, 1765); in 1770, he was part of the delegation led by Metropolitan Grigorie II which travelled to St Petersburg to seek the support of Tsarina Catherine II. He served as locum tenens bishop at Râmnic (c. Dec. 1771 – Dec. 1773), then diocesan bishop (elected 26 December 1773, ordained 12 January 1774), where he served until his death. He published for the first time in Romanian six volumes of the Mineia, based on the old translation by Bishop Damaschin, now revised by a group of scholars (Metropolitan Grigorie II, Bishop Chesarie, the future Bishop Filaret, the monk Rafail of Hurezi, the hierodeacon Anatolie of the Bishopric, and Iordan the Cappadocian, the grammarian); cf. Rev. Prof. Mircea PĂCURARIU, Dictionary of Romanian Theologians, p. 90.

• 51

  Bishop Grigorie Râmniceanu, born c. 1763 in Vâlcea County, died on 20 July 1828 in Bucharest. He took the monastic vows and was ordained a hierodeacon at the Diocese of Râmnic (c. 1780), then a hieromonk (1787); he studied at the same diocese. On 13 February 1823, he was elected Bishop of Argeș (ordained on 23 February), serving in that role until his death. In 1826, he published in Bucharest St John of Damascus’s Logic (32 + 304 pp.), which he had translated himself, marking the first attempt to render philosophy into the Romanian language; cf. Rev. Prof. Mircea PĂCURARIU, Dictionary of Romanian Theologians, p. 413.

• 52

  Mihai ISPIR, Classicism in Romanian Art, pp. 46–47.

• 53

  Grigore IONESCU, Architecture in Romania, p. 496.

• 54

  Ibid.

• 55

  Frequently cited in Mihai ISPIR’s work, Classicism in Romanian Art, pp. 29, 50, 51, 93.

• 56

  The CAEN classification of occupations, arranged alphabetically, http://www.aippimm.ro/articol/info_util/resurse_umane_nomenclator_caen/formulare_1415.

• 57

  He was “the first important modern Romanian architect, trained in Germany in the spirit of Neoclassicism” (cf. Paul CONSTANTIN, Universal Dictionary of Architects, p. 244). After graduating from St Sava College in Bucharest – where architecture was taught in the final year – at the age of just 20, in 1837, he was appointed ‘Assistant Architect to the City of Bucharest’. He continued his studies in Berlin, where he obtained his degree in architecture. On his return to Romania, he held various senior positions in higher education institutions. He designed the Old University and the Domnița Bălașa Church in Bucharest, and completed the New Metropolitan Cathedral in Iași (Paul CONSTANTIN, Universal Dictionary of Architects, pp. 244–245).

• 58

  Mihai ISPIR, Classicism in Romanian Art, pp. 44–45.

• 59

  When reading just a few pages of Holy Scripture, one is struck by the multitude of references of an architectural and constructive nature concerning the building up of the human person: ‘He who prophesies speaks to people for their edification, exhortation and comfort…’ (1 Corinthians 14:3); ‘In the same way, since you are eager for spiritual gifts, seek to excel in them, for the edification of the Church’ (1 Corinthians 14:12); ‘That is why I am writing these things to you whilst I am absent, so that when I am present I may not have to be severe, in accordance with the authority the Lord has given me for edification, and not for destruction’ (2 Corinthians 12:10); ‘Therefore, you are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of God’s household, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus Himself as the cornerstone. In Him, every well-joined structure grows into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you too are being built together to be a dwelling place of God in the Spirit’ (Ephesians 2:19–22); ‘He who descended is the very One who ascended far above all the heavens, that He might fill all things. And He gave some as apostles, some as prophets, some as evangelists, some as shepherds and teachers, for the equipping of the saints, for the work of ministry, for the building up of the body of Christ, until we all reach the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:10–13); “And you yourselves, as living stones, be built up as a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:5);

• 60

  “Therefore, let those who suffer, according to God’s will, entrust their souls to Him, the faithful Creator, whilst doing good deeds” (1 Peter 4:19).

• 61

  St Basil the Great calls God the Architect of the entire universe, that is, the One who orchestrated the whole work of creation: ‘if ever, on a clear night, gazing at the indescribable beauty of the stars, you have formed an idea of the Architect of the universe…’ (Cf. Saint Basil the Great, Homilies on the Hexaemeron, translation, introduction, notes and indices by Priest D. Fecioru, PSB 17, IBMBOR Publishers, Bucharest, 1986, p. 131).

• 62

  G. M. CANTACUZINO, ‘Cernica and Pantelimon’, in the volume Izvoare și popasuri, Eminescu Publishing House, Bucharest, 1977, p. 189.

• 63

  G. M. CANTACUZINO, ‘Cernica and Pantelimon’, p. 188.