Cathedrals of Spain — Reading Companion

A Critical Eye on Structure

Gade's descriptions are notably technical and comparative. In his analysis of Toledo's vaulting, he notes that the bays are 'vaulted alternately by triangular and virtually rectangular compartments,' a system he traces to French prototypes. He then judges that in Notre Dame de Paris, Saint Remi, and Le Mans, similar compartments are 'either employed with inferior skill or in a different form,' while Toledo's architect achieves 'unstinted admiration.' Such passages reveal Gade's willingness to rank buildings by structural logic.

He also attends to proportions and sightlines. The vista from west to east at Toledo is 'perfectly preserved,' he writes, and the distances between piers are 'as nearly as possible the same.' These observations ground his aesthetic judgments in measurable features, not mere impression.

The Choir as an Obstruction

Gade repeatedly criticizes the placement of the choir in Spanish cathedrals. At Toledo, he writes that the choir 'sticks like a bone in the throat,' interrupting the nave's continuity and spoiling 'the sweep and grandeur of the edifice at its most important point.' He notes that this position deprives the interior of the fine perspective found in northern churches, comparing it unfavorably to Westminster Abbey, where a similar arrangement 'stifles the breath.'

He explains the historical reason: the laity were admitted to the transept in front of the altar, pushing the choir westward. This blend of architectural critique and historical explanation is characteristic of Gade's method. He does not simply describe; he evaluates and contextualizes.

The Spanish Cimborio as a Distinctive Feature

Gade highlights the Spanish 'cimborio,' or central lantern, as a feature that sets Spanish Gothic apart. He notes that it was 'retained and developed' in both Gothic and Renaissance edifices, 'permitted illogically to break the Gothic roof line.' The only English parallel he offers is the lantern at Ely. In Spain, the cimborio made the crossing 'the lightest portion of the edifice,' shedding light into the high altar and choir.

This observation is typical of Gade's comparative approach: he identifies a national characteristic, traces its development, and measures it against foreign examples. His language is precise—'illogically' signals his own judgment—and his references to specific cathedrals ground the discussion in evidence.

The Scope and Limits of the Study

Gade explicitly limits his coverage to eight cathedrals: Avila, Salamanca (old and new), Burgos, Toledo, Leon, Segovia, Seville, and Granada. He omits Santiago de Compostela, Barcelona, Gerona, Lerida, and Tudela, citing concerns about length. The selection, he says, covers 'nearly all periods of Gothic art, as interpreted in Spain, as well as the earlier Romanesque and succeeding Renaissance.'

His preface acknowledges that the series is 'very incomplete,' but the book's focus allows for detailed treatment. Gade also notes that all the great churches contain several styles, a fact that complicates any simple classification. This honesty about the book's scope and the complexity of its subject adds to its credibility as a specialized work.

Gade's book rewards readers who attend to his structural judgments and comparative asides. His metaphors—the choir as a bone, the cimborio breaking the roof line—give personality to technical analysis. The preface's promise to look beyond the vaults at the city and people is fulfilled unevenly, but the architectural core is consistently sharp. For those interested in how a early twentieth-century connoisseur assessed Spanish Gothic, this is a valuable document.

The rain blurred Burgos’s granite ribs into something almost breathing, Gade’s words turning each vault into a held breath. Afterwards, I found myself wandering through portrait catalogues, chasing the same quiet intimacy—faces fixed in oil, whispering their city’s story. That led me to Biographical Notices of the Portraits at Hinchingbrook — Key Ideas to Explore, where a similar patience for brick, bone, and human residue felt like coming home to a second cathedral.