Telemark Part 3: Heddal Stave Church

This is the third in a four part series on my trip to Telemark this past weekend. These posts will be a little on the long side, since so much has happened, but in an effort to hold everyone's attention, I've split the trip up into four smaller posts. If you would like to start at the beginning, you can find the first post here:
http://kristofergoestonorway.blogspot.no/2012/07/telemark-part-1-boats-and-things.html

On Sunday morning, I climbed out of my skinny little bed at Uppigård Natadal and headed down to breakfast, where I nourished myself on hearty home baked bread, soft-boiled eggs, and pickled herring. I had never had a soft-boiled egg before, and I must say I'm a pretty big fan. Anyways, that's beside the point. After breakfasting, we piled onto the bus once again and headed down into another valley to see the Heddal Stave Church.

A little background on stave churches, in general. Stave churches are so-called because they are supported by staves, four large beams placed at the corners of the sanctuary. They are constructed entirely of wood, and were built about 800 years ago, about a hundred years after Christianity first came to Norway. Because of the time period in which they were built, the churches are a fascinating blend of old Viking animal carvings,  Roman Catholic motifs, and (later) Lutheran additions. The inside of the stave churches are very dark. There are no windows, just a small skylight. 

The Altar

As for the Heddal Stave church, it was a mixed bag. First the good: The church is beautiful, and well-preserved enough that it can still be used for weddings and baptisms. Unfortunately, that's about it for the good.

The door of the church, carved with dragons to protect against evil.

Even though it is beautiful, or perhaps because it is beautiful, at this point in time, the church has become little more than a tourist attraction. It's locked most of the time, and can't be entered without a 65 kroner ticket, and the few times it is opened, it's filled with the flash of tourists cameras as they run around taking pictures. After the tourists have gotten their shots, a grumpy Norwegian college student points out several features of the church he's been paid to memorize and then everyone is ushered out. Perhaps it is a telling picture of the religious state of Norway today that the atmosphere of the church has been destroyed; at any rate, they treat what could be an awe-inspiring church space as little more than a curio, no more sacred than the art gallery downtown. I, for one, was quite disappointed to say the least.

Having stood on my soapbox and harangued the multitudes, in an effort to cheer you, my reader, up (and myself), I'll leave you with a prime example of the finest art in Telemark, rosemaling. This picture is of the ceiling of a house dating back to the 1600s, and not only the ceiling, but all four walls were covered with the delicate paintings. I'm not sure how I'd like to live in a room decorated like that all the time, but it was really quite nice to lie on the floor for five minutes or so and stare at the handiwork of some long-ago artist.