To the fellow stonemasons of the Notre Dame of Paris

In these hours of desperation over the loss of the Notre Dame Cathedral of Paris I feel like I would like to express my vicinity to whom built it 650 years ago.

I might not be a professional stone carver nor a famous one but I had the privilege to work on a reproduction of a corbel from the Exeter Cathedral that was built almost in the same period as the Notre Dame of Paris and that taught me a lot about medieval stonemasonry and ultimately about medieval mindset. The person that commissioned the piece wanted a copy of the Our Lady’s Tumbler corbel that could resemble as much as possible what it would have looked like 700 years back, including the original colours. These will be applied by a professional restorer later on.

The only way to truly know something is to create it. This was the lesson I learned. It took me almost a year, endless hours on chisels and sand paper, sweat, pain and some blood and this while I was working full-time in my dayjob. During this time I’ve truly connected with the stonemason that carved it centuries earlier because I’ve studied the sculpture to the most minute detail, its proportions and its symbolism. I discovered that the artist had a profound knowledge of the art and carved in a cartoonish way not due to a lack of skills but on purpose. His medieval mind wanted to transmit a message that could only be possible in that specific style. A wormhole put me in touch with him. While I was carving I could see him, I could hear him, I could relate to him. Did he have children and wife waiting for him like I did? Did he spill blood on the stone like I did? Was it frustrated when, like me, knocked off the chin of the tumbler and he had to recarve the entire face? Was he continuously communicating with the painter like I was doing to ensure the optimal undulation of the leaves would highlight the colours? I’m sure he did all those things, and so did the stonemasons of Notre Dame when they built it. I know it took them exceptional skills to do what they did and I’m sure they would cry at the sight of its burning if they were alive today. They thought their creation could have lasted forever for the glory of their god. Today we stonemasons, professional or amateurish like me, cry with them for the loss of 185 years of mastery and hard work. Their shattered dreams are our today’s nightmares. However, it’s not all lost for their legacy is still with us. It’s because of what they did that our art progressed to the levels we saw later on with Michelangelo and other Renaissance artists and to this day.