Inside Europe’s Decaying, Abandoned Churches

From Boredpanda:

Between 2012 and 2020, I photographed several hundred places of worship across Europe. Over time, these places became enveloped in silence. The only thing heard there now is an occasional gust of wind whistling through broken stained glass or the rhythmic drip of water leaking through the dilapidated roof above a nave.

Nevertheless, these muted places still draw an occasional visitor. Once upon a time, prayers could be heard recited in Latin in a German church; and in a French Catholic college, the voices of children once resounded to the sound of the bells. But who can imagine what sounds might be concealed behind the walls of a crypt in the heart of the Italian mountains, or within a tomb in a former convent in Portugal?

Why visit and photograph abandoned or forgotten places? Why have I concentrated my attention on places abandoned by humankind and traveled thousands of kilometers each year to bring back photographs of them? Must a passion necessarily be explained to be shared? Because sharing is indeed what this is all about: sharing the emotions I had when I discovered places of worship that exist in harmony with the ruins of time.

“If the site of a ruin seems perilous, I shudder. If I feel safe and secure there, I’m freer, more alone, more myself, closer to myself. It’s there that I miss my friend.” Diderot.

“A cloister. The background of an aging forest. The tiles are neatly arranged, supporting beams, the cross has been picked up, wild grass grows in the garden. Every place is the place of a projection, in an image, an infinity of images, including this one: a candid place without ringing bells or silent prayers, where possibility and impatience, desire and tenderness, birth, and end, resurface. Nothing is more precious than this moment, this image, and the dream that it begins again. To hell with ulterior motives, petty strategy. To hell with the pure and the impure! Do not lose your only chance. Enter this room under the sky with consciousness in the place that says yes, yes to the other, yes to love. “One moment to dawdle, a lifetime to regret!” (Jankeleevich). What would these charming stones and greenery be without your breath, without your lovers’ eyes, without your hands and mouth looking for each other? This is a place of pleasure, of miraculous simultaneity, and of lucky reciprocity between body and soul. Your silhouettes against a column, lying in the aisle, mingled and united. So many times! Your wonderful youth!” — Lilyane Beauquel

“Like every Friday, she came to replace the altar linen that had been stained by the mass wine. We could hear her footsteps from the sacristy, where she put away the liturgical objects. The chalice, the paten, the censer, and the incense holder: everything had its specific place. She had started losing her mind after the death of her husband Georges. This good man used to come to church, somewhat forced, once a year for Christmas Mass. Madeleine insisted on it. Just as she insisted on keeping the closet in the sacristy tidy… The parish priest quickly understood the discomfort this caused. The order in the closet came from the chaos that reigned in the head of his parishioner. That Friday, as she was repeating the Hail Mary for the umpteenth time, she missed the step and slipped on the wet floor next to the console. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Her skull hit the stone floor with a thud that caused such a resounding sound it can still be heard today when all is silent. Shh! Father discovered Madeleine’s lifeless body before the Sunday ceremony. The police will come to investigate: it’s customary! There will be no Mass. The autopsy concluded that Madeleine suffered a cerebral haemorrhage. As the tragedy marked the minds of the small number of parishioners, no more Masses were organised and the doors of the church were closed permanently. Ever since then, legend has it that on certain Fridays, the soul of old Madeleine comes to tidy up the church before a possible Mass.” — Thierry Pernin

“Here we are, from the priest’s point of view, on the choir side. Considering the dust on the altar, it has been a long time since the sacramental bread has been raised around here. The eyes take the opportunity to scan some abandoned details. An unlit candle, a faded bouquet, and wedding ceremony baubles serve as souvenirs. Thanks to the two bunches of columns supporting the vault, walking in the nave with a smile on is a piece of cake. Some will think of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, others will think of Alechinsky. Mint and cherry-coloured paper strips are wrapped around the barrels that make the flowers dance. A series of naive crosses catches the eye. They are closer to the graphics of a video game than to a reminder of the Calvary. Twelve medallions placed halfway up the wall decorate the nave. The implacable Catholic calculations give rhythm to the volume, even empty. No doubt the miniatures of the Passion occupied the believer’s gaze. During his “stare-in-the-air” travelling shot, this believer also had the opportunity to see these icons leaning against the walls, all the while listening to the sermon declaimed from the pulpit. The background of the image is a golden entrance. There is a holy water font, a confessional, and even a stove to warm up beliefs, just in case. For now, a warm light seems to do the job. It has effortlessly slipped through these large openings, but also at the bottom of the staircase that leads to the balcony. Up there, a frame placed right under the rib vault features the “Annunciation” or the “Immaculate Conception”. The Virgin surrenders herself to the light… the Sacred light. It is the only one that hasn’t yet gotten the hell out of here.” — Louvre-Ravioli aka François Bénard

[My book Abandoned Churches: Unclaimed Places of Worship is an unparalleled testimony to these places]+

More info: francismeslet.com | Instagram | Facebook

From CNN:

Across Europe, hundreds of churches that were once filled with worship and song are now at the mercy of the elements. With religion’s role declining sharply around the continent in recent decades, the most promising outcome for many of these centuries-old structures is being reincarnated as residential or commercial properties.

Hoping to capture their faded splendor before it’s too late, French photographer Francis Meslet has spent almost a decade documenting abandoned churches, chapels and priories in varying states of disrepair. His stunning images show dilapidated pipe organs, overgrown cloisters, long-empty pews and sunlight pouring into naves strewn with dust and rubble. Featuring images shot across France, Belgium, Germany, Italy and Portugal, his new book, “Abandoned Churches: Unclaimed Places of Worship,” offers an eerie tribute to a building type he describes as “very special in the history of architecture and the history of men.” Meslet, who once wanted to be architect, has a sharp eye for structural symmetry, with his collection spanning styles from gothic to neoclassical.

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