These great effects of light and shade, obtained by the plan--effects
simple in their means, yet mysterious in their power of attraction for
us, have strengthened the idea that Gothic art is idealistic. The masses
who see the cathedral dominating the city, with its two slanting roofs
like hands joined at the finger-tips, certainly feel in it the great
idea, the poem. They do not realize that the sentiments aroused in them
by the beauty of the building are wholly due to the science of the plans.
By means of what principle did the master builders support the weight
of these enormous masses of stone, which yet join lovingly in the
imponderable atmosphere? By obeying the law of equilibrium of the human
body. The human body, standing upright, the feet joined, in equilibrium,
is the basis of the Greek column. Pediments and roof, supported by a
series of these standing bodies, these human columns, that is the Greek
temple. The architecture of the Parthenon reproduces the equilibrium
of the body in a state of rest. In action the body sways; that is to
say, the weight rests on only one leg, while the body inclines to the
opposite side to regain its balance by counterpoise. That is the sway
of Gothic architecture. This sway constitutes the law of motion for the
body of man and animal, ever seeking perfect equilibrium.
Without this law we could not move; we would be like blocks of stone.
Every motion that we make produces an initial swaying, which an opposing
weight instantaneously balances. Thus without any consciousness on
our part a perpetual balancing is taking place within us, a change as
facile and immediate as the changes which take place in the phenomena
of respiration and circulation. All goes on with the speed, order, and
silence that exist in the domain of electricity. It is a perpetual
prodigy to which we do not even give a thought.
It is not surprising that the Gothic masters, who copied from all
nature, took from man and animals the charm of balance.
The ogive (pointed arch) of the cathedral, is achieved by two opposing
thrusts. But the archivolts do not always harmonize with the capitals;
they are not set exactly over them, they are out of the perpendicular.
Two movements of equal force, exactly opposed, cause a stable
equilibrium. Just so the masses of stone are supported by this same
opposition of thrusts.
The interior of the cathedral is high and vast, broken by large windows
that diminish the resistance and help to support the great weight. It
was necessary to find a way of reëstablishing the equilibrium, lest the
nave break down under its own weight. That is the purpose of the flying
buttresses. Like the arms of giants, they throw their opposing weight
against the exterior walls.
Some have drawn the conclusion that cathedrals are imperfect, since they
cannot stand without this support. It is a characteristic idea of our
age. Just as though one would reproach the human body for bearing first
on one leg and then on the other.
These powerful buttresses are wonderfully effective in their contrast
to the lacework of the sculpture. What is more beautiful than Notre
Dame in Paris at night, with its island as its pedestal? It is the huge
skeleton of the France of the Middle Ages which appears to us here. How
attractive the light and shade on the buttresses! Indeed, it took genius
to bring out beauty in that which is in reality only the skeleton of the
edifice, and which could be offensive, were it badly carried out.