294 Scan Cen Art Viking Stave Church

A VIKING CHURCH IN THE SCANDINAVIAN CENTER Sheltered by a glass dome in the Scandinavian Center is a model of a stave church. It is strange in appearance, even mysterious, suggesting its ancient Viking heritage. The earliest mention of a Scandinavian sanctuary is by the Frankish chronicler, Adam of Bremen, in the eleventh century, who describes a temple at Uppsala, Sweden which includes a tree, a well and wooden buildings, the latter to shelter images of the gods. There is a problem with Adam of Bremen's description, however. No clear archaeological traces of any such temple structure have been found at Uppsala. The first structure seems to be a wooden church. The sacred tree, the sacred well, and the place of sacrificing suggest outdoor rites, not temples. Perhaps a nearby house was used to hold the feast in celebration of the sacrifices. Any banquet hall of a very rich landowner might have served this purpose. But a temple-structure to contain the cult images does not seem to have been usual, and probably few Viking temples ever existed: special buildings for God were a Christian, not a pagan custom. Open-air worship was much more likely. A fence surrounded the site, as bloodshed or weapons could not defile the area inside. The first missionaries to Scandinavia had a difficult task before them to Christianize these Vikings who were reluctant to forego their pagan ways of feasting, drinking, blood feuds, slaves and human sacrifices. Ansgar, sent by the Franks in 826, paid only a brief visit, to be followed by other missionaries some thirty years later to Birka, Sweden. The English missionaries had a better time of it because they knew how to draw old beliefs into the new: Christ became a Viking Warrior-leader and his disciples his army. Yet, victory did not come until 1100, when the pagan Uppsala sanctuary was destroyed. With the often-violent conversion of Scandinavia to Christianity, Mediterranean innovations, the world of classical art, began to force its way upon the native art. Building in stone, and decorating them with sculptures and paintings representing human figures, the missionaries began to submerge the old, traditional ways of art, transforming them. The erection of huge stone cathedrals, such as the one at Turku, Finland, with its vast interior and special room for its mysteries, or the Cathedral of Trondheim, Norway, started in the first half of the twelfth century, represent the finest expressions of the Nordic adaptation of European Gothic culture. Indeed, King Hakon Hakonsson of Norway made it his political aim to introduce European culture into his realm. But, although European influences swept across Scandinavia, Nordic architecture and ornamentation resisted efforts to displace it. In Norway, especially, wood architecture continued, even though stone had replaced wood for churches in the other Scandinavian countries. By the year 1300 it is estimated that some thirteen hundred churches had been built in Norway, about two-thirds of them being wood structures, the rest being of stone. Side-by-side with the stone structures, often built under the direction of foreigners, the Norwegians retained their native traditions, building stave churches. And, this native tradition was nothing to be despised. In contrast to the cool, unadorned stone churches, these stave

churches were grand in their height and profile, impressive with their dragon-heads extending from their gables, and elaborate in their ornamentation. Compared to the almost military severity of the European-influenced churches, these stave churches presented a majestic and elegant contribution to world architecture. Also, in contrast to the classically influenced stone structures, the stave churches were technically advanced, and elaborately constructed. While echoes of the classical world appear in these buildings, native Scandinavian techniques and solutions predominate. In Norway the usual method of construction was the "log cabin" method, called laft construction, in which the walls are of logs laid horizontally, interlocked at the corners by notches. But, for churches, another mode or construction was used—staves. In contrast to the Eastern and European post-and-beam techniques, or the notched-log buildings, such as the Karelian churches, stave churches began as logs split lengthwise in half, joined together by tongue-and-groove in several manners, but with the ends planted into the ground. Corner posts, also dug into the ground, gave stability. These corner posts then were held together by a system of horizontal beams which supported the roof, but which also gripped the tops of the planks to lock them in place. These vertical bonds, then, were not load-bearing, but acted as a mere boundary or screen. Archaeological remains at Gamla Uppsala in Sweden suggest this first style of stave technique. Excavations under the ancient Lund cathedral in have brought to light extensive remains of such a church dating from the middle of the eleventh century, and at Greensted in Essex, England, there still exists portions of an early eleventh century church made of upright planks originally buried in the ground in the so-called "palisade" technique. This method, however, insured stability for the building, but not endurance. The posts and beams soon rotted, and a new technique was required. A second stage in the development occurred when the staves of the walls were set into a bottom sill called a "sleeper," grooved in the same manner as the upper sill. This gave great stability to the structure, locking each element into a strongly braced cube. This second stage is to be found in the little parish church of Hedered in western Sweden. It alone remains of what once were a large number of similar structures in Sweden. Elsewhere, parishioners in this much more wealthy country were eager to knock down their old wood churches in order to build much more impressive stone or brick ones more suited to their more modern tastes. Hedered survived because of its difficult location and small local population. Here the corner posts rest upon the ground, into which is fastened lower and upper beams, grooved to hold the rough-cut, curving planks. The bottom plank serves as a groundsill in which drainage is provided by holes drilled at intervals. While this reduced the progress of damage by rot to the staves, it did not solve the problem of rot for the posts. The door is cut out of the south side of this and many other churches because the sun would melt the ice and snow more quickly there, allowing easier access to the interior in the long winter months. The interior, while small, is comfortable and warm. Pews, pulpit and ceiling were added later. The interior surfaces of the staves are finished smoothly, and in the seventeenth century received paintings of great charm, adding to its congenial environment. The small chancel, or area where the liturgy is conducted, is an awkward addition, as it is in most of the stave churches. Few of the stave churches solved this problem satisfactorily and merely imitated the similar appendages of stone churches.

The third stage in the development of the stave church solved this problem by imitating the construction of domestic buildings in raising the whole structure, staves and posts, up from the ground, resting it upon stones. This was completely satisfactory, and enabled some thirty of these churches to endure nine hundred years. The materials employed in stave churches are as important as the method of construction. The staves were made of Scotch pine (Pinus sylvestris), found abundantly in Scandinavia. The builders would select a tree, removing the top, but leaving the trunk to stand and dry for five to eight years. Then the outer sapwood would be removed so that only the heartwood would remain. The wood for the curved brackets was a species of birch (Betula verrucosa), and the wood for the pins and other connections was the dense softwood of a common juniper (Juniperus communis). The fourth stage of development in stave churches was made at the end of the twelfth century and only in Norway. It was an advance that has made these structures internationally famous. While the outer walls continued to be made of staves, imaginative architects began to install internal "masts" to carry the roofs extremely high, and invented an elaborate system of buttresses to stabilize the structure and to reinforce it against heavy winds and snows. This system of masts arising from the crossing-points of sleepers reveals the dramatic departure these Viking architects made from European buildings. The log-cabin technique of the eastern Finnish and Russian structures relied upon strong walls to carry their roofs. The framework of posts and wattle-and-daub of the Continental half-timbered churches, rested the weight of the roof upon the outer members. And, the Mediterranean stone basilicas with their long rows of columns also rely upon well-bonded walls for support. It is the system of masts that does the work here. Parallel to the masts, about three feet away, are the staves, which form the outer walls of the church. Once, more, these staves are merely a screen-wall, the real load-bearing elements being the masts resting upon sleepers. The staves are inserted in a beam that rests in a notch in the extended corners of the sleepers, locking them in place. The prototype for these mast churches is found not in the Norman or Romanesque basilicas, but close at hand. The ingenious manner in which these churches were constructed was devised by those versed in the building of Viking ships. The masts are separated and fixed in place by boards cut into an inverted horseshoe, above which are two continuous boards that run completely around the interior as a "string-course." Between these two stringcourses and the pillars are cross braces, or "scissor-beams," often called "Saint Andrew's Crosses," a feature which can also be seen in early English and French churches. Immediately above these again are found horseshoe arches. At the top, beams connect the masts, then inverted horseshoe cut boards which stabilize the beams that support the gabled roof. In all, from floor to ridgepole are thirty-five and one-half feet.

The upper gabled roof overhangs the second part of the roof over the lower side aisles, which are also supported by the masts. Extending from the masts at the height of the scissor-beams are other horseshoe cut boards which stabilize the upper sills of the staves. Looking up at this point, once more one is reminded of antecedents of this structure. The interlocked "L" beams and curved beams resemble the design of an upturned boat, and recall the problems resolved by master boat-builders in providing large, strong but flexible vessels. These structures have been able to withstand the forces of nature for centuries. The reason is that entire stave church structure functions as a single assembly to resist lateral forces, the members in tension balanced by the members in compression. With a strong wind coming from one side, the windward aisle struts transfer the pressure to the opposite interior masts. The masts, the roof and the roof bracing transfer the load across the nave to the other side. On the lee side, the lee aisle rafters and the lee aisle struts act as smaller trusses with their rigid, triangular form, and transfer the pressure to the leeward aisle walls and down to the earth. Thus, the aisles stabilize the structure in much the same manner as flying buttresses on Gothic cathedrals. In the Gothic church, stability is provided by the mass of the buttresses: here in the stave church it is provided by the entire structure. Rich decorations are not what fix our attention when we gaze upon the ancient stave churches. It is the design of the building itself that fascinates us, and the rhythmic movement upwards as viewed from the exterior. The fallacy that building in wood is a primitive, peasant art, has led to a general neglect of the contributions the Nordic architects made to the culture of our world. Is not a ship architecture? Built to contain people, goods and animals, it does not only serve to protect them from the elements. It impresses one with its low-riding sleek profile, and conveys a majestic elegance. Is this not architecture in the truest sense? Beginning simply with split logs driven into the earth to form an enclosure, it soon became a complex structure suitable for the performance of the highest mysteries of the new faith. Dark and mysterious, its roof-dragons raise their heads to the sky, as if protesting one last time the glory and jubilance of a Viking civilization too quickly smothered by the severe, massive structures of the Mediterranean cathedrals. Zigzag carvings and rounded shingles cascade down to a ambulatory with stocky columns, bringing the eyes to the carved portals whose sophisticated and highly intelligent interlacing lures one to pause, to search out each tendril, to be surprised at the convoluted endings the ancient craftsman, surely part jokester as well as artist, left for our musing. The wood doors, too, delight with their ancient iron-star devices. The interior is gloomy, with strong masts securely anchored in unseen sleeper beams, dwarfing the low benches that rest on rhythmic arches. The masts rise past scissor-beams to Romanesque capitals. Horseshoe braces, like sea-waves in wood, undulate around the outer walls, holding masts steady against all external dangers. Through a procession of pillars one is drawn to the chancel and its altar, and to quiet contemplation, for here the dynamic, energetic Vikings met the stillness of the Cross, and both were transformed. Ernst F. Tonsing, Ph.D. Thousand Oaks, California