Wow – such an awesome door knocker that if you had the chance to put it on your door, you probably wouldn’t even mind that it is a bit chipped. This is what cast bronze can look like as it ages, when it is left un-lacquered – you get some gorgeous contrasts between the protruding metal, which is polished by time and people’s hands, and the receding metal, which collects a layer of time and darkens.

Archaeologists believe that this door knocker was made in southern Italy around 1100. Given that there is a lettered inscription in Arabic around the edge, it is interesting to imagine who might have made it, paid for it, owned it, and had it on their door… Perhaps one of the earliest immigrants from Arabia to Europe wanted a reminder of his faith. Perhaps he didn’t want his Muslim faith submerged by the dominant faith of the area, and made a constant reminder of it to hang on his front door – both for himself and others. Either way, when you think about it, he/she must have been a very strong willed person to put a statement going against the popular religion of the area on his door, back when religion was an even touchier subject than it is now.

The actual knocker is made by both casting and engraving the bronze, so at least a couple of people were probably involved in making it – each skill was quite specialized, back in the day. Another great feature of the knocker is that the lion could be either male or female – another way it flies in the face of tradition at the time. It does have a mane, but while the actual face is cast, the mane is engraved, making it much less prominent. It’s there, but you have to look for it.

An enigma wrapped in a mystery…!

Photo credits: Cosmophilia by McMullen Museum of Art, Boston College

My favourite tale of door knocking is The Raven, by Edgar Allen Poe. It was written in 1845, when door knockers had definitely become commonplace – but they just don’t convey the same mystery, and wouldn’t allow the narrator the excuse that his visitor “so gently … came tapping”!
What a beautiful study in suspense and uncertainty, and the rhythm of the poem supports the racing of his mind and his feelings of terror. So, grab a door knocker so that should you hear a faint tapping, you know it is no innocent visitor … here are the first four verses of The Raven.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
” ‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
” ‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you.” Here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Photo credits: Raven by Barry Merluzzo

Ha ha! I’m not even going to try to rewrite this in my own words. I can easily imagine a very dry, bespectacled British teacher declaiming about this subject to his class of somewhat frightened and very confused boarding school kids… ! I can also imagine Monty Python acting it out, though… It came from : h2g2, by Wargamer (The Wanderer), and edited by Frankie Roberto. Thanks for that, guys. Seriously. We don’t know what we would have done without it. The internet is much simpler to operate than any door.

Ha ha!!!

Operating Doors

The Basic Door is usually a little over six foot tall, though actual sizes vary. They can

be made of many different materials, but often wood or imitation wood. All have one thing in common, the handle. It is this feature that plays a major role in this section of instructions.

Method

1. Approach door. Stop when handle is within arm’s reach. If nose begins to hurt, you are too close.
2. Grasp handle with hand. If the handle has a long metal bit, apply pressure downwards. If the handle is round, twist towards the hinges (the metal things on the other side of the door).
3. Slowly push at the door, while applying the step above. If nothing happens, try pulling.
4. If nose begins to hurt and/or bleed, you are pulling too fast.
5. Once a large hole forms in the wall, the door is considered open. Calmly step through and grasp the handle again.
6. Begin to pull the door until it is back in its original location. If pulling doesn’t work, try pushing.

(more…)

Every now and then we come across something really special at Architectural Classics. We have been lucky enough to come across this gorgeous stylised bronze knocker, dated from around the 16th century and made with many traditional elements. A woman’s head holds up the huge and heavy knocking arm, which consists of two putti, displaying a shield with fleur de lys. The shape of the entire knocker resembles the classical fleur de lys. The knocker has not been cleaned up, touched up, polished or restored with us, so you can see all of its antique charm and chronicles. There is no chance of the beauty of this knocker being missed by unobservant guests, either – the entire piece is a foot high and around 7 ½ inches wide. Although it is so special, you’d no doubt want it somewhere more secure than your front door!

The knocker incorporates many classical elements in a blend of art, superstition and an unidentified homage. The putti which hold up the shield are traditional characters, which became prevalent in Italian renaissance art. They have been found on articles dating back to the second century AD, though – they used to decorate the coffins of children. On these media the putti would be seen doing normal human activities – playing, fighting, playing sports and engaged in religious rites. You can understand their parents would want to imagine them somewhere, growing up, playing games, and enjoying ‘normal’ activities … The putti as a symbol and motif was revived by Donatello in the 1400s. They are associated with many different things, according to the context they appear in. They can represent romantic love, and the goddess Aphrodite; they can represent Heaven; or they can simply be associated with peace, happiness, leisure and enjoyment. (more…)