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This former capital of several iterations of Spain is not here by accident: long ago the Tagus river cut a nearly circular and very deep gorge around this high and easily defended peninsula. In 193 BC, those bright Romans exploited this bluff as Toletum and fortified it further. When the Visigoths picked up the pieces of the Roman Empire, they made this their seat starting in 584 AD, until the Moors took over in 712 -- a lucky time as Arabs, Christians, and Jews all thrived in this tolerant center of the world. Most of what we see today started in the 12th century when the Christians took it back. This includes the San Martin bridge, rebuilt after a huge flood in the 14th century. This hilltop picture fails to show its 5 arches. At right is its crenelated octagonal tower. The middle arch is one of the largest stone spans ever -- over 130 feet.
I and my fair lady found the weather to be quite foul. So much for the rain falling mainly on the plain in our last days in Spain. (Our first days refuted another mis-prognostication from the same song, In Hartford, Hereford, and Houston, Hurricanes hardly happen. Ha, ha! ) But I reaLiza that I'm getting off track, especially on something we could do little about. Back to Toledo where we started our visit just behind the tourist office with a visit to the Museum of Santa Cruz. Not only did we start here, one could make a case that the Spanish Renaissance began here as well. It's a bit like looking at the Baptistery doors in Florence where the Italian Renaissance started a century before this building rose.
Queen Isabel and the architect Covarrubias finished the hospital that Cardinal Mendoza and master builder Enrique Egas started: a set of buildings begun as Flemish Gothic and ending in early Spanish Renaissance. (You'd expect this to happen in a cathedral that takes centuries to build, but this took about a decade starting in 1504.) Built as a hospital/orphanage and eventually converted for military barracks, today it's home to the Provincial Museum of Archaeology and Fine Arts. Like its more recent Guggenheimish neighbor to the northeast in Bilbao, the museum sometimes outshines the art inside. (That's easy with the modern art of Bilbao but harder to bring off here where the unphotographable works including another 18 El Grecos.)
We were greeted by this Plateresque facade where architect/sculptor Alonso de Covarrubias has given us (at bottom) a kneeling Cardinal Mendoza (the guy with the bad haircut) in front of a cross supported by Peter, Paul, and Helena. -- WARNING: you may have to click on "hide captions" to see this-- We saw much of Covarrubias's work here, both architecture and sculpture. ------- To explore this facade close-up, cut and paste this link into your browser: http://www. dickschmitt.com/travels/spain/toledo/2008_10_22_spain_toledo_museo_de_santa_cruz-40.JPG ---------
Covarrubias was Enrique Egas's only son-in-law. Between them they created many of the monuments we see in this world heritage city. (In fact, that is Covarrubias's Alcazar poking its top over the cloister roof.) Inside Santa Cruz, Covarrubias laid out this two-tiered cloister...
...whose upper story is accessed by this incredible staircase. Egas called his work "el arte viejo" (old art) but in the next century the term "fantasias platerescas" came into vogue to describe the 16th century beginnings of Spanish Renaissance architecture. The term "Plateresco" was chosen to describe the work of silversmiths as can be seen...
...in the outstanding details such as in the banister of the grand stairway. Here we see a transition to a true Renaissance structure as Egas apparently became more comfortable with the Italian building style as work progressed on what started out to be a Flemish Gothic building. But look closely and you will see that the spindles are not independent -- they've been carved out of a single block of marble, typically 2 rungs at a time. A Gothic technique!
All in all, this 16th century patio is one of the finest cloisters of the Spanish Renaissance. Behind these arches open up huge rooms stretching into cross shapes below elaborate wooded Mudéjar ceilings. Originally these were wards for the orphans and the sick; now they are temporary exhibition space for art not in the same league as the Grecos and Riberas found elsewhere in this provincial (but not too provincial) museum.
While many hospitals and monasteries such as Santa Cruz survive, the world class draw here is Toledo's cathedral, a Gothic edifice whose sprawling floor plan makes most sense by considering that it may have been meant to occupy the area of the mosque which preceded it. Being Gothic means never having to say you're sorry about lacking symmetry: The right tower was never completed; instead in the 17th century, El Greco's son put up this baroque dome on a squarish chapel. (WARNING: click on "hide captions" for a few seconds.) The left tower rises 295 feet and was built from 1380-1440. It starts out square with a later octagonal cap by Hanequin de Buselas. Look closely, a papal tiara caps the tower.
Begun in 1226, it did not escape its Moorish roots even though its plan is primarily Spanish Gothic -- with Renaissance and Baroque enhancements throughout. Unfortunately, photography was not allowed inside. This is the west entrance which faces upon a lovely square across from the city hall, as is the case in many historic Spanish towns. Often such a west facade will have a rose window -- but in Toledo's case, these are on the north and south sides.
Most of the cathedral doorways are well restored, bringing back to life their Gothic carvings. These west doors are 15th century but the work above is from the 16th and 17th centuries. Let's look more closely at the tympanum above the center door of the west facade which is nicknamed the Door of Pardon since penitents who entered here once earned indulgences.
Being bishop of Toledo was a really big deal. If the king was too young to rule (often the case) the Cardinal of Toledo would often serve as regent. None were more famous than Bishop (now saint) Ildefonso who was so holy that in the 7th century, the Virgin Mary gave him an extreme makeover by presenting him with a chasuble (the outer garment worn by the celebrant at mass). Sculptor Juan Alemán framed the scene with the mini-crests of Aragon and Castile. Ildefonso's name is the Visigoth word for "battle ready." After his death, the Moors invaded.
Both Enrique Egas and his brother worked on this cathedral starting in the late 15th century (mostly on the interior). Here we have the central bronze doors below the double eagle of Toledo's crest, in this case, of the Province of Toledo, not the city.
The west doorways are crowed with statues like any good Gothic entrance. These appear to be of the apostles (check out Peter with his keys at the far right) except...
...I can't figure out who is the patron saint of dominoes second from left.
The south portal is called the Lions' Door. (Look closely and you'll see the critters on top of the pillars.) It was designed in the 15th century by Hanequin de Buselas -- who also finished off the northwest tower. (He served as the cathedral's master builder from 1448 through 1470.) Later Toledians would start importing help from the Italians who got into that Renaissance thing a century before the Iberians.)
Many of the carvings are by Juan Aleman. These are some of the 11 figures above the doorway, perhaps apostles.
Near the high Gothic lions' door is this neo-classic doorway added much later in 1800. Since it's at ground level, no steps are needed and its called the "level door." Would that the cathedral builders had called it quits long before adding this incongruous (but handicap accessible) portico to their Gothic jewel.
Visitors enter on the North side through the 13th century clock doorway. This is the oldest door and reached after a walk down a long alley formed by a huge cloister on the right and the sacristy rooms on the left. The overall effect is much more intimate than the grand west facade with its large plaza on the west end which was intended for the congregation's entrance by the cathedral's designers.
Both the inside and outside have a clock (this one with only one hand). Above is the rose window (typically placed on the west facade, but here on the north side. The south side also has its rose window above the door of the Lions.) The 13th century stained glass above the clock here is the oldest in the cathedral.
The clock portal has a very busy Gothic tympanum: at top the Apostles attend Mary's death/assumption. Below are scenes from the Nativity period including the Presentation in the Temple, the Massacre of the Innocents, etc. Again this appears to be the work of Juan Alemán who did the Lions' Door.
This is the great cathedral of what was the center of the Catholic Church in Spain, 1 of only 3 high Gothic structures in Spain and considered the epitome of the Spanish Gothic. We really deserve a better water spout than this. Where have all the gargoyles gone?
The statues here must have been restored given the poor condition of some of the stones in the rest of the wall. This door is sometimes called the "door of the monarchs" due to some statues of the kings. I wonder about the smiling guy on the left with his horses. We have the guys here on the left side and ...
...mostly gals on the right.
Perhaps the biggest disappointment of our 5+ weeks in Spain was not being allowed to take pictures inside the Toledo Cathedral. Besides the masterpieces on the walls (El Greco, Van Dyk, etc.) the walls are masterpieces themselves. The choir alone may be the best in the world. However, the no-photo policy seems to be new and other travelers have extensive postings. I'd highly recommend the Cathedral interior pictures taken by Holly Hayes and posted on her excellent web site (along with excellent commentary) at: http://www.sacred-destinations.com/spain/toledo-cathedral-photos/index.htm .
While one can make the case that Toledo has the greatest Spanish Gothic cathedral, there is much more to see in this town. Here's a Jewish synagogue built by Moors with permission of the Christian king who had just taken back the town. (Toledo was tolerant, accounting for much of its success). Its interior is white, hence the name Santa Maria la Blanca. Today it's a museum and, like too many in Toledo, doesn't allow pictures. (I found this public domain shot on Wiki). There are all told, 35 of these Mudejar arches in five rows. The pillars are actually brick and coated with cement and lime, a Moorish technique. The altarpiece came later when the Christians took over the space as a church. Later it saw use in a number of ways including arms depot for Napoleon's troops.
Outside, it's ghastly. Christians extensively modified the exterior to look more like a Christian church rather than the flat-roofed mosque the Moors built. Obviously they needed a deed restrictions committee in those days. As a sign of the cooperation between religions, Moorish architects erected this as a synagogue in territory recently taken back by the Christians (around 1180). Often the Jews would call upon Moorish (Mudéjar) craftsmen to build their synagogues. This structure apparently was converted to a Christian church in the early 15th century. Before then, it served as the first among the 10 synagogues of Toledo. (Today 2 are left inside the walls and serve as museums).
Near the Synagogue of Santa Maria La Blanca is a medieval building that time has treated a little better: Monasterio de san Juan de los Reyes -- The Monastery of San Juan of the Kings. When Spanards say "los Reyes," they usually mean Ferdinand and Isabel as is the case here. This dynamic duo charted the monastery in 1476 to commemorate their victory over the Portuguese king who wanted Castille.
The place is medieval through and through. A fairly short build time (about 30 years) allowed master builder Juan Guas to to achieve his Flemish Gothic design. He started in 1477, about a generation before Enrique Egas and Covarrubias started the Spanish Renaissance with their Hospital of the Santa Cruz (our first pictures in this series). But distinctions were not so clear in those days (or today either, for that matter. Egas and Guas collaborated on many buildings, but Guas seemed to stay Gothic as Egas evolved toward Plateresque. This was probably an interesting time to be a stone mason in Toledo, especially as the relative peace after the Moorish expulsion and the increasing riches from the newly discovered Americas were feeding wealth into Spain's capital. Here's a few exterior statues which look like they inspired Disney's servants of the queen in Alice in Wonderland.
The Gothic tendrils here (and throughout) are lovely such as this doorway leading into the cloister. Napoleon's troops came by and trashed the place in the early 1800s. It was later restored and returned to the Franciscans. This style is dubbed "Isabelline" -- a stew primarily of Flemish Flamboyant Gothic with spices of Mudéjar and even Renaissance. As a building, it works well: lavishly detailed in stone and human in its proportions.
This was one of the few places in Toledo that was 1) fairly small, 2) lavishly decorated, 3) reasonably well lit, and 4) tolerant of photographers (at least those not using flash). So this became my favorite building and we've got a lot of pictures (maybe too many) from this place. Here's another Gothic doorway leading from the chapel to the entrance hall.
The first floor of the cloister looking through a Flamboyant Gothic window into the cloistered garden with a Plateresque gallery above -- and spiny pinnacles above it
The pillars supporting the bays on the first floor of the cloister contain statues ...
... such as these surrounded by Gothic tendrils. More attention seems to have been devoted to the faces of humans than to the animals. Eagles get a lot of play here as they were the symbol of the patron of this church (John the Evangelist). Eagles also adorned the crests of Spanish monarchs (and because of this, to the crest of Toledo as well.)
Much of this beautiful cloister was rebuilt but the upper story is somewhat original. Napoleon's troops did this place no favors but it seems to have recovered well. This view contrasts the Isabelline Gothic first floor with the Spanish Renaissance second level.
Two storied cloisters allowed architects to build spectacular stairways. Here the stairway ceiling is a bit Renaissance...
...with statues and reliefs at each corner.
But mixed with the Renaissance carvings of the upper cloister, we find Mudéjar ceilings.
Why are these regal lions holding chains?
Here's a somewhat modest Mudéjar ceiling at the corner of the upper cloister with a lion at center (and Richard the lyin' hearted at the edge).
The garden below (somewhat distorted by the wide angle lens) is symmetrical in shape but not in its plantings.
A misbegotten picture -- but it does show both levels of the cloister. (Please ignore the building crane.)
Finally, we have found Gothic gargoyles below the pinnacled balustrades of the upper level. (And the rain had stopped as well!)
Here it looks like the Toledo monastery is trying to steal some of the Jaén cathedral's thunder with this depiction of Saint Veronica holding the veil which miraculously held an image of the suffering Christ's face. Much medieval stone carving was originally painted but restorers typically leave it plain.
But there is still much to see in this single nave space including carvings by its Flemish architect, Juan Guas and a modest retable (at least by Toledo standards where these typically rise from the altar and end at the ceiling). (Here the ceiling holds a painting featuring Mary and a number of Franciscan saints).
The original altarpiece was replaced by this 16th century Plateresque retable with scenes from the Passion and Resurrection separated by various statues. It was done by Antonio de Comontes for the Hospital of Santa Cruz (shown in the first set of pictures).
Master builder Juan Guas uses delicate tracery, bring it together in a “Gothic dome” with pendentives in Gothic relief.
Side altars here are quite small and flat against the wall. This is small building and doesn't need large buttresses to support the roof (and form deep side chapels). This allows visitors to get close to them as no oppressive screens are in place. (Sorry for the shadows but flash was not allowed inside the chapel.)
As a monastery, this place likely lost most of its removable art when the Spanish government "liberated" it to local museums during the 1800s. Some remain such as St. Peter hearing the cock crow 3 times.
The single marble pulpit displays detailed carved statues and reliefs
The upper sides of each of the lateral walls in the presbytery are resplendent in Juan Guas's carvings of St. John's eagle over the crown and crest of Ferdinand and Isabel. Originally, these monarchs thought they were building their mausoleum but their heirs had different ideas and their remains never rested here.
Above the doorway to the cloister, these angels and their rope provide somewhat enigmatic iconography.
Here's a close-up: lions bear the weight of the shield which itself is derived from symbols of the various kingdoms consolidated under these Catholic Monarchs.
Let's leave this lovely Monastery of St. John of the Kings and briefly explore some of its neighbors.
Just up the hill is the old church of San Román. In fact it's on the top of the highest hill in Toledo. Once a 13th century Mudéjar church (check the doorway), today its a museum dedicated to the Visigoths who ruled the area from Toledo between the fall of Rome and the entrance of the Moors in 712 AD. Excuse the wide-angle lens distortion but this was a very narrow street -- lousy for cars and monument photographers alike.
The 14th century tower appears to be plain Moorish at its base and Mudéjar-arched and bell-bearing above. While this 13th century church is among the oldest in town, its doorway is obviously much newer. (Covarrubias also added a renaissance cupola over the apse in the 16th century).
Inside, San Román is a three aisled space with Mudéjar arches similar to Santa Maria la Blanca. (These buildings are from roughly the same period and could have shared their Moorish builders.) Restoration of the interior in the early 1940s discovered murals under the painted walls. For a peak inside, try Adrian Fletcher's excellent site at: http://www.paradoxplace.com/Photo%20Pages/Spain/Central_Spain/Toledo/San_Roman/San_Roman.htm .
Déjà vu: I remembered photographing this scene on my first trip here in 2001; evening was descending and townspeople were gathered on the steps of San Ildefonso and I turned and was confronted with the striking dominance of the cathedral steeple. These views are a function of the steep slopes of Toledo and heighten the dramatic effect of walking through this place. The cross is at a kids' playground in front of San Ildefonso.
We first approached San Ildefonso from the back where we could see its "Jesuit" dome -- so called because many of the churches built in this era by the Society of Jesus had renaissance domes inspired by their Gesu church in Rome.
The same dome during my 2001 trip -- this is why we come back (and with better photographic equipment).
Started by the Jesuits in 1628, the presently named Iglesia de San Ildefonso was nearly a century a building. The Jesuits lost it when the order was disbanded in 1767 (but they got it back in 1937 after the Spanish Civil War). It's most significant feature is this Baroque facade with twin towers.
This is so Toledo: a locked building with no external ornamentation – except for a dynamite Plateresque doorway. In this case we have a not infrequent collaboration of two masters: Covarrubias and Berruguete. We’ve spoken of Covarrubias before. Alonso González de Berruguete is considered the greatest sculptor of the Spanish Renaissance. He trained in Florence under Michelangelo – and learned well. Earlier that morning, we marveled at the nearby Cathedral’s choir where Berruguete carved alabaster figures from the Old Testament. While his Madonna appears to be in good shape, the central prelate below her has lost part of his head.
Besides the cathedral, the Alcazar dominates the Toledo skyline. I visited it in 2001 but not this year. This building was the site of a famous battle during the Spanish Civil War -- which virtually destroyed it. The austere design was created by Covarrubias and Juan de Herrera in the 16th century on a site defended by the legendary El Cid.
The heroic defense of this place made it Franco's Alamo and after relieving the siege, he reconstructed this shrine; today it's a military museum. (My fellow Texans may not like this comparison with our famous battle fought exactly 100 years earlier. After all, Franco was a dictator while the defenders of the Alamo wanted independence from Mexico so they could continue to hold slaves. True Freedom Fighters!)
Here's a picture from the 2001 trip showing the place without the scaffolding. Why either side fought for this place is questionable. Toledo was of little strategic importance to either side: you can't win a war with Renaissance paintings. But as onetime home to the Spanish crown, the Alcazar had symbolic and propaganda value for both sides.
Another 2001 picture showing Juan de Herrera's harmonious building. This, and his more austere El Escoral, inspired Spanish architecture for the next century and was dubbed the "Herrerain style." We've come a long way from the ornate Plateresque in only about 200 yards in this great walled town.
But Toledo is famous for more than Moors and Christians. Its Jewish heritage is immense and continued until the dark days when Ferdinand and Isabel expelled them at the end of the 15th century. Before that, Toledo had 10 synagogues and Spain was thought to have held a half million Jews. In 1492, this 14th century building was turned over to the Christians. Today it's the Museo Sefardi, meant to explain the patrimony of Jews with Iberian roots. (Unlike the central European Ashkenazim, Shepardic Jews don't speak Yiddish; instead they use a blend of Spanish and Hebrew. After the expulsion, they settled on the Mediterranean edges of many countries.)
The Moors were religiously tolerant rulers and when the Christians first took Toledo back under Alfonso VI in 1085, the flourishing interaction between Jews, Christians, and Moors continued for centuries -- extending Toledo's golden age. Synagogues are often built in the architectural styles of the day -- so it's no surprise that this place shows Mudéjar roots. We're looking east towards the hejal where the Torah was kept. A case can be made that this is the most Moorish interior in Toledo, even though they never occupied this building.
Below the artesonado ceiling are 54 Moorish arches. Below that are screens masking the women's gallery. The synagogue was built as a private worship space for a very wealthy Jew who served as the King's treasurer. It was attached to his house. After the Jews were expelled, it was assigned to a Catholic military order which, fortunately, made little modifications to the interior.
Synagogues typically point the congregation towards Jerusalem. Here the east wall contains 3 arches and elaborate Mudéjar decorative motifs such as roses. Inscriptions giving the history of the synagogue frame this figure.
The building is called the "Sinagoga del Transito" but that is a name it would never have had in its Jewish days as the Transito was what American Catholics would call the Assumption of Mary. (It got its name from a famous painting now in nearby Madrid's Prado Museum.)
Since 1994, this building has served as the Sephardic Museum, storing artifacts from Sephardi Jews in 5 small rooms off the main synagogue. In the 1st century AD, the Jews arrived in Roman days after Masada and the destruction of the second Jerusalem temple. They flourished during the middle ages under the Moors and the early Christian kings who replaced them. To a large extent, Toledo served as a second Jerusalem until the 1492 expulsion. Today it seems to be embracing its Jewish past. (Other Spanish towns sometimes extrapolate minimal physical evidence into a Jewish patrimony in order to attract well heeled tourists, but Toledo has the real thing.)
Our last stop was (no surprise!) the parking garage. We usually don't provide pictures of this but will here to salute a great idea: bicycles for rent as part of the garage services. We find the more enlightened cities, like Seville and Paris, providing rental bikes easily available for residents and tourists. Usually they're found in kiosks above ground. This is the first we've seen right in the parking garage. Now if they'd just rent umbrellas by the day, we could all pack lighter.
The next morning we rose early and made our way to the Madrid airport. After over 5 weeks in Spain, Toledo was the icing on the cake: a capital for three different cultures as well as the Spanish church, a center of learning and art, and a well-preserved town within its still standing walls. ************ Stop by our travel page at http://www. dickschmitt.com/travels.html *****
