Thursday, December 12, 2024

Notre Dame’s new altar’s simplicity: A defect or a feature?

The new liturgical furnishings for the cathedral of Notre Dame of Paris (which re-opened its doors on the weekend of December 7-8, 2024) are the subject of controversy in France and beyond. 

In the opinion of some people, their contemporary and minimalist design is out of place in such a masterpiece of Gothic architecture.

Tastes differ

It's obvious that appreciating beauty is a fundamentally subjective exercise. And one that leads to controversy! It calls on people’s aesthetic sense, cultural imagination, taste, and interpretations, which naturally differ according to time and each person’s psychology. 

The disparity and confrontation of artistic points of view and preferences is part and parcel of our human ecosystem.

The problem is compounded when this confrontation of aesthetic impressions includes a religious dimension. What is appropriate in art when dealing with the sacred inevitably differs according to the approaches and experiences of individuals and communities. It easily leads to heated arguments, because what is at stake is, no more and no less, the way in which divine worship is celebrated. “Tell me how you pray, and I'll tell you what image of God you have.”

The cathedral’s grandeur calls for humility

The main criticism leveled at Guillaume Bardet, the designer who crafted Notre Dame's new furnishings, is that he opted for the simplicity of line that characterizes the cathedral's new baptistery, ambo, altar, cathedra, and tabernacle.

This choice of simplicity, reinforced by the plain bronze used to make the furniture, was imposed by the monumental nature of the building.

“The grandeur of the monument invites humility,” he explains. He adds that the neo-Gothic ornamentation imitating a medieval style, added by Viollet-le-Duc in the 19th century, also argued in favor of a sober, harmonious decorum.

His detractors criticize him for having reduced and minimized the symbolic grandeur that practicing Catholics expect in the furniture on which Christ's Eucharistic sacrifice is perpetuated during Mass.

Bardet argues in his own defense that the cathedral's furnishings must also “speak” to the majority of visitors, who are far from familiar with the Catholic liturgy.

Mutual enrichment

The arguments put forward by some of the designer's critics seem to reflect a nostalgia on their part for a more grandiose and spectacular decoration. There may also be a mistrust of contemporary art, which is suspected of diminishing or erasing any distinctive sign of a transcendent presence.

In this respect, it's worth remembering that all the popes of the Vatican II era, from Paul VI to Francis, have constantly called for the ingenuity and virtuosity of contemporary artists to help the Church better speak of Christ to the minds of the third millennium.

The Church needs the art and artists of its time, and vice versa: “This partnership has been a source of mutual enrichment,” as John Paul II reminded us (Letter to Artists, 1999). The restoration of Notre Dame of Paris has reinforced this cooperation between modern art and Christian revelation.

The choice of simplicity that inspired the choice of furnishings designed by Guillaume Bardet is not devoid of brilliance and elevation, contrary to what some critics suggest. After all, isn't simplicity a common language that encourages encounters and recognitions that are a priori improbable?

St. Bernard, reformer of the Cistercian order, whose architecture glorifies simplicity and purity, recommended that his monks imitate God's simplicity by contemplating his humanity. Isn't simplicity also what contemporary audiences, saturated by the sophistication and complexity of the society in which they live, are looking for?