Professor Butter Beard and “The Kings of the Cloisters”
“I love cloisters, which are the architectural equivalent of a theological concept: perfect freedom within set boundaries.” – Barbara Grizzuti Harrison
My next home will have its own cloister. Yes, I also crave the “open concept,” stainless steel appliances, ancient wood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, but a cloister is priority number one. A true escape destination for all the senses. The eyes witness the cycle of the growth seasons and the ever-changing light. The nose takes in the aromas of warm earth, herbs after a morning rain, and the flowers and ripe fruit hanging from the symmetrically planted trees. The fingers lightly brush over the rosemary and sage bushes. The ears take in the sound of the bees, the earliest bird song and the crickets of the evening. And the mouth tastes the fruit of all the labors – the drip on your chin as you bite into a fresh peach just picked from an ancient limb.
Until then, I can visit the “jewel in the crown,” the Cloisters, also known as the Met Cloisters, a scrumptious museum in the Washington Heights neighborhood of Upper Manhattan, New York City. The museum, situated in Fort Tryon Park, specializes in European medieval art and architecture, with a focus on the Romanesque and Gothic periods. Governed by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, it contains a large collection of medieval artworks shown in the architectural settings of French monasteries, abbeys and four perfectly preserved cloisters.
And every time I enter the sacred space, I graciously make my entrance bow to “The Two Kings.”
The portal from Moutiers-Saint-Jean, a French commune located about fifty miles west of Dijon, is set into the wall so that the two kings greet visitors immediately upon their entrance into the museum. Though the portal, discovered oddly built into a French farm building and acquired by the Metropolitan in 1932, was already in place when the building opened in 1938, the kings had been separated from the ensemble at an early date and were not discovered, purchased and re-installed until 1940.
Shirin Fozi, curator of Medieval Art at the Cloisters, writes: “Standing nearly six feet tall from shoe to crown, they offer an idealized view of leadership that is as unmistakable today as when they were first carved in the mid-thirteenth century to embody the alignment of church and state.” An elaborate money bag hangs from the king at the left, signifying generous patronage. His counterpart aims an index finger at a long scroll to demonstrate both legal and spiritual authority. Oddly, neither king carries a sword; their status as protectors of the church is imagined in spiritual rather than militaristic terms. They both nobbily project a sense of calm assurance and safety, as if they are completely comfortable in the knowledge that their reign will forever stand the test of time.
But if you look closely, you can see that time has left its scars. The portal was deliberately disfigured during the French Wars of Religion, first by Calvinists in 1567 and again by Huguenots in the 1590s. Once again, we are witnesses to the age-old theory that by destroying the image, you destroy the imbedded soul and its power. Careful examination of the kings reveals not only many cracks and breaks, but also areas where the stonework has been patched and repaired. Their crowns are postmedieval reconstructions, as are the ankles and several sections of the robes and faces. Their necks are almost completely remade, suggesting that at some point, the kings were beheaded in a very “Buffy-esque” manner.
Fozi continues, “Antiquarian drawings from 1725 show the king at left with a youthful, clean-shaven face and the king at right with a curly beard, contrary to how they appear today.” In early curatorial photographs, the heads are in the current configuration by 1900, but switched again in 1919. Visual records show the two kings trading heads at least three more times, to the point that historians can no longer be certain which position is actually correct.
For current art historians and curators, identifying the Moutiers kings is no easy task. According to Fozi, they have traditionally been understood as Clovis, the early medieval king who first unified the Frankish tribes as a single kingdom and whose baptism in 508 marked a turning point for the Christianization of Europe, and Clothar, his son and successor. Historians have discovered an early series of charters forged in the twelfth century claiming Clovis and Clothar as early donors to the abbey at Moutiers (which was founded in the sixth century).
All that being said, it is equally possible that the statues reference ancient biblical kings such as David and Solomon, as is frequently observed on the portals of other early European cathedrals. We may never know their absolute true identities, but I will continue in my practice to bow to them both in my best Bridgerton fashion, acknowledging their diligence and pride as they protect the entrance into the four perfectly preserved cloisters of Fort Tyron Park.
Thoughts of these noble French Kings inspired me in the kitchen this morning as I baked mini pound cakes for my farmer friends. I wanted to create the same sensation of stimulating all the senses, like a visit to the Cloisters for a picnic on a lazy summer afternoon. I used the classic warming spice mix of a French Pain d’Épices – cinnamon, ginger, clove, nutmeg and black pepper. For color, taste and texture, I added fresh blueberries and dried pears, both tossed with the vibrant zest and juice of slightly over-ripe limes. Before baking, I sprinkled the loaves with a dusting of clear sanding sugar – like jewels on a candlelit crown. By tweaking my foundation recipe for pound cakes, I may have just created “perfect freedom within set boundaries.”
Pain d’Épices Pound Cakes with Fresh Blueberries and Dried Pears
3 Loaf Cakes (or 1 Loaf and 16 Mini Cakes)
2 cups fresh blueberries
2 cups dried pears, cut into ½” pieces (about the same size as the blueberries)
2 limes (zest and juice)
12 ounces (3 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
3 cups granulated sugar
4 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
1 Tbsp fine sea salt
2 Tbsp cinnamon
2 Tbsp dried ginger
2 tsp ground cloves
2 tsp freshly ground nutmeg
½ tsp freshly ground black pepper
6 large eggs, room temperature
2 tsp vanilla paste
1 ½ cups buttermilk
1) Cut the dried pears to roughly the same size as your blueberries. Toss them with the blueberries in a medium bowl.
2) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spray three loaf pans with cooking spray and line with parchment leaving a one-inch overhang on all sides (or one loaf pan and 16 mini-loaves).
3) In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and spices. Set aside.
4) In the bowl of a standing mixer, with the paddle attachment, mix together the sugar and lime zest until aromatic. Squeeze the lime juice over the berries/pears and toss to combine.
5) Cream the butter and sugar in a standing mixer 1-2 minutes until butter is light and fluffy. Reduce the speed to low and add the eggs, 1 egg at a time.
6) Add the vanilla paste to the creamed butter/sugar and mix to combine.
7) On low, add 1/3 of the dry mix, then half of the buttermilk, 1/3 of the dry mix, remaining buttermilk. Remove the bowl from the mixer and fold in the last 1/3 of the dry along with the berries and pears.
8) Divide the batter between the prepared pans and sprinkle with granulated, or sanding, sugar. Place the pans in the oven and reduce the heat to 325 degrees.
9) Bake the cakes until a wooden skewer comes out clean – the loaf cakes will bake for 50-55 minutes, and the mini loaves will bake for 23-25 minutes.
