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Travel and retreats: In search of painted walls

by
24 January 2025

Susan Gray visits some of northern Romania’s historic colourful monastic churches

Alamy

Dragomirna fortress monastery, which houses a church inside, has arrow slits and watchtowers in its walls and once offered sanctuary to villagers

Dragomirna fortress monastery, which houses a church inside, has arrow slits and watchtowers in its walls and once offered sanctuary to villagers

FOLLOWING the faint light as it disappears below, I plunge one foot into the darkness, and when it touches something horizontal, the other joins it.

Gingerly repeating the process until I hit the bottom step, I catch up my fellow (and swifter) pilgrim, whose phone has illuminated the zig-zag way, along with shouts of “Argh, huge step!” and “Careful! Corner!”

At the base of the fortified wall around Dragomirna monastery complex, I am relieved to be back on the ground in one piece, having just descended 15 metres of steep, twisting, uneven stone steps in pitch black.

My pilgrim friend and I are on a coach-based pilgrimage with our church, St Magnus the Martyr, London Bridge. Eight of north Moldavia’s painted churches are UNESCO World Heritage Sites, and we are visiting five. Current or historic monastic settlements are associated with most of the churches.

Dragomirna monastery features, at its centre, one of Romania’s narrowest and tallest churches — the last of the area’s painted churches to be built in a hundred year spree, during the 15th and 16th centuries, that dotted north-eastern Romania’s forests and valleys with brightly frescoed churches.

Dragomirna was built around 10km north of the city of Suceava between 1602 and 1609, founded by Bishop Anastasie Crimca, Metropolitan of Moldavia (1608-17; 1619-29), who established an important scriptorium here, with the enclosing fortifications added in 1627 by the voivode (local governor), Miron Barnovschi Movilă.

Sandwiched between Ottomans to the south, the Austro-Hungarian Empire to the west, and Tartars to the east, the Moldavia region, as it was then, was subjected to frequent invasions. Villagers would shelter in Dragomirna’s fortified walls, complete with arrow slits and four watchtowers, for protection.

Slender and tall, with a 42-metre-high lantern tower, Dragomirna’s church’s pale stone is intricately patterned, with striking cable twist horizontal bands representing the Trinity, among other interpretations. In its interior, the cable pattern becomes a vertical decorative feature, highlighted in abstracted foliage patterns in green and gold.

In the dome over the nave, a not-too-stern Christ Pantocrator (“Ruler of All”) is depicted with golden halo on a red background. Gold leaf features lavishly on the interior frescoes, illustrating scenes from the New Testament narrated over four horizontal registers, in a bid to educate their viewers theologically.

AlamyVoroneţ Monastery, with its vibrantly decorated exterior, is a highlight of the tour

Pointing with a long stick, Sister Xenia, one of Dragomirna’s resident nuns, explains the central scene of angels fighting demons for tumbling human bodies, marking the division between pictorial right and left, and symbolising the fight between good and evil.

The monastery museum, in the complex’s former refectory, underlines the monastery’s influential past, its enormous crystal chandelier a gift from Catherine the Great to Abbot Paisie (1722-94), in gratitude for the part played by the monastery in reinvigorating Orthodoxy in Russia, and halting the spread of Catholicism.

Abbot Paisie spent the last 15 years of his life south of Bucovina (the name given to Moldavia by Austria-Hungary, meaning “beech woods”) in Neamt Monastery. As well as seeing Neamt’s manuscript collection, enriched by the scholar abbot, we are lucky enough to visit the monastery’s catacombs. Witnessing the scores that the community sang from centuries ago, and the sacred texts they created, underlines the continuity of spiritual life here.

Continuing down to a vaulted, candlelit chamber, surrounded by shelves of skulls and decoratively arranged bones, our monk guide suddenly declares: “Death answers all the questions!”, before philosophising on the value of spiritual travel, ultimately organised by God.

“By travelling, you learn two things,” he says. “Life is lived in days, not years. And you have to be patient, willing or not. Nobody has patience to begin with; so you start by accepting each other.” On the way out, handling the skulls of former monks, some decoratively timestamped with the date of their death in calligraphy (like labels for expensive jam), emphasises the fleeting passage of time.

TRAVELLING on to Putna Monastery (a few miles from Ukraine’s border), the landscape through the coach window, of rippling corn and sunflowers, feels sadly familiar, thanks to news footage of the Russian-Ukrainian conflict.

Staying in a religious order’s guesthouse gives a taste of monastic life’s sacrifices. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are fast days in Orthodoxy, so food is vegan, and pale-yellow local butter is replaced by vegan spread. On Sunday mornings, only water is allowed before the two- to three-hour liturgy.

“In monasteries, breakfast does not exist,” our tour guide, Fr Mihai, told us, letting us know that our Sunday privations at the monastery guesthouse were modest compared to that of our hosts.

But Bake Off-standard mini patisseries replace ascetic austerity when Bishop Damaschin of Dorna arrives for tea at Putna guesthouse, having officiated at local ordinations that morning. Fr Mihai translates as we talk about interfaith relations and the busy working day of a bishop. On parting, Bishop Damaschin gives us individual blessings, with two for our driver, Mihai, whose eyes fill with tears.

According to legend, Putna Monastery was built where Stephen the Great’s arrow fell, and the original monastery and church, painted and gilded inside and out, were completed in 1481. The church was rebuilt in the mid-17th century, and then again in 1760.

AlamyThe monastery of Putna, only a few miles from the border with Ukraine

The interior frescoes we see now are a modern addition, completed in the late 20th century by brothers Michael and Gabriel Morosan. The paintings have a luminescence, broader colour palette (especially electric blue), and greater figure shading than the region’s originals, but are recognisably in the Byzantine iconographic tradition.

Stephen the Great’s tomb is made of Carrera marble, with carved tracery so intricate that it resembles lace. Garlands of fresh yellow, red, and violet flowers, symbolising the Romanian flag, are laid on the monarch’s tomb, who died in 1504. Stephen the Great’s red-and-gold tomb covering, with a rectangular calligraphic border made from brocade, with gold, silver and silk thread embroidery, is one of the many marvellously preserved textiles on display.

AFTER centuries of Habsburg and Communist suppression, in 1991, a community of nuns, led by Mother Superior Irina Pantenescu, reinvigorated monastic life at Voroneţ, a 90-minute drive south of Putna. Now, the tourist season leaves the Sisters exhausted, the Mother Superior says (giving guided tours to coachloads runs tandem to devotions).

AlamyOne of the Voroneţ fresco. The church was built in 1488

Built by Stephen the Great in 1488, on the advice of Daniel the Hermit, Voroneţ is a showstopper. In the nave, against a background of famous Voroneţ blue, Stephen presents the church to an enthroned Christ, with St George interceding between them, in thanks for victory over the Turks.

Outside, the Last Judgement, as a river of fire, covers the entire western wall. On the southern side, a sinuous, swirling Tree of Jesse shows Jesus (with classical philosophers, including Aristotle and Plato), illustrating the genealogy of our Lord, and foretelling salvation across history — including classical times.

Despite the souvenir market at the gates, and the huge coach park, Voroneţ is unmissable. Just don’t tell those weary Sisters I told you.


Travel details

St Magnus the Martyr’s pilgrimage was organised by Metropolitan Pilgrimage Bureau in Paris. Ten-day pilgrimage including accommodation, transport, site entrances, and meals (but excluding travel to Romania), from £890pp sharing a twin room. Contact Deacon Bogdan Grecu: pelerin@mitropolia.eu.

Eurostar from London to Iași, one way from £166. Wizz Air flies direct Luton to Iași and Suceava, from £27 one way (wizzair.com). Man in Seat 61 details travelling to Iași/Suceava by train.

For a DIY-trip visiting the various churches, hire a car in Romania (CarJet allows you to search for deals, among others).

seat61.com
wizzair.esky.co.uk
carjet.com

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