Upperville in the spring of 2005

Upperville is a quaint little town on Route 50 in Virginia, about 50 miles from DC. We visited it twice, once in 2004 and once more about a year later. We loved its historic church and library. The stone architecture and cobblestone courtyard had an immediate appeal to us, as the buildings seemed to have come to life from the pages of a fairy tale.

We loved being able to walk about the buildings unhindered, and the orderly appearance of everything around, including the furthest grounds of the church.

Let’s go inside the church for a bit.

Have you ever seen a smaller and more endearing public library?

If you get the chance, please visit it. According to Wikipedia, there are a number of thoroughbred horse farms in the area, so that might be of interest to you as well.

Places

The Roman-Catholic church in Dumbraveni

On a side street in Dumbraveni, Romania, in a neighborhood full of gypsies, you’ll find the city’s old Roman-Catholic church. It’s over 1,000 years old, and it’s not being properly maintained, as is the case with many of Romania’s historic buildings. Looking at the building itself, it’s hard to believe it’s stood there for a millenium, but there it is. Sure, there are architectural details which date the building, but it’s not imposing, certainly nothing of the scale of the Armenian-Catholic church just a few blocks away from it.

When we got there, it was locked up. The front door — now made of iron — was bolted. The sign marking it as an historic monument was torn. The back doors were nailed shut, and so were the windows. One of the doors was even walled in.

I walked around the building, trying to avoid human feces that marked the grass courtyard, and noticed that even though the cellar doors were nailed shut, I could pry one of them ajar and squeeze through.

My sense of adventure got the better of me, and I went ahead. I grabbed a little LED flashlight from the car, and headed inside. It was clear the vaults underneath the church had been looted and vandalized, numerous times. There were countless footsteps in the sand, and trash left there by hooligans. Important architectural details, like the columns you see in one of the photos, were either shattered and on the floor, or downright missing.

The grave you see below, one of several built into the supporting walls of the vaults, has been desecrated, along with others. If you look carefully, you’ll see human bones among the rubble.

There was an iron door with intricate relief work, which leads to an inner sanctum. It was bolted shut, and I could see a serious amount of time has passed since it was opened.

There is a lower level to the vaults, partially uncovered here. I’m not sure if the walls below are stable enough for someone to go inside. I would have doubts about venturing there.

The intricate design of the mold on the vault walls is a possible indication that they were painted once.

There you have it. I’m not sure of this church’s fate. No caretaker was in sight when I was there, nor were there visible signs that the church was being cared for.

Places

The fortified church in Curciu

Having already visited about twenty-five fortified churches in Southern Transilvania, I can say that one of the most underrated fortified churches in this region is the one in Curci. It’s sad that it’s so, because it is quite beautiful, both on the outside and on the inside. Its outside is truly picturesque and its inside, though white-washed, as is the case with most reformed churches, still shows remnants of its more colorful gothic past, with green men on its walls and ceilings and murals hidden beneath multiple coats of lime paint.

When we visited in the spring of 2011, its caretaker told me no one had visited it for over 5 months. How can anyone miss a church like this one? It is a truly beautiful place.

Curciu, also known as Criș in Romanian, Kiertš or Kirtsch in German and Küküllőkőrös, Szászkőrös, and Kőrös in Hungarian (that’s right, three separate names), is an old Dacian settlement that was once called “La Fântâni”, itself built over yet older settlements from the bronze and iron age (source). It is first mentioned in written documents in 1332, and we also find it in court documents in 1337 alongside the name of a Saxon, Petro de Keuruz, who was called to testify as a witness about a legal matter. Curciu is also the place where my grandfather on my mother’s side was born.

The construction of the Saxon church was completed in the first half of the 14th century and took about 50 years. A lot of river rocks were used in its walls, as you’ll see in the photographs. The structure underwent modifications in 1425-1430, when the choir loft was added and again sometime in the 1450s. The church’s organ was built in 1844 by Wilhelm Maetz and it is still intact and undamaged to this day.

It isn’t a big church, but there are so many interesting architectural details that clearly point out a master at work. When you look at it as a whole (its chosen location, its perspective from all points of view, the way the architect chose to express the various functions of the building and the spaces used), it is a thing of wonder. It made me want to explore every little nook and cranny, and come back to it in the future.

If you’d like to visit this church, the village of Curciu is about 12 km away from Medias. You’ll need to take a paved country road toward the village of Darlos, pass through it, and follow the sign toward Curci.u Once there, you’ll need to ask around for the way to the caretaker’s house, who will then give you a personal tour of the domain.

Enjoy the photographs!

At the fortified Saxon church in Curciu, Transilvania, Romania

Places

Medias from above

During yesterday’s morning walk through the town, I got access to the St. Margaret’s church bell tower for a few minutes, and ran up to take a few photos of the historic district from above. I hope to be able to return to the tower at some point in the near future so I can take more photos.

Here you can see the King Ferdinand Piazza in the background.

This is the church’s interior courtyard, where I went to school as a child.

This is Str. Johannes Honterus. I’d run up the street toward the school every morning, almost late because I took too long to eat my breakfast.

I might have gone to the S. L. Roth high school, which you can see here, but instead moved to Cluj, then to the United States. And now I’m back in my old home town. Life’s little twists and turns are pretty interesting, aren’t they?