This fresco with a Benedictine allegory was painted on the ceiling of one of the halls of Benediktbeuern abbey. It was ill lit, so this picture is much clearer than you’d see the actual painting.
No tripod was used (usually, tripods aren’t allowed, and I hadn’t one with me, anyway...), and the result was much too dark. With iPhoto, adjusting brightness and contrast, I got a nice result, however. I had a 20x20 cm print made and, miraculously, it appeared to be much sharper than I deserved...
Entrance to the church. It was closed, and we didn’t dare to force our way into it (being discreetly notified –see the note– about the fate of trespassers).
Forstenried once was a small village, with a church, an inn, and just a few farms. Very much like Icking, though so close to the expanding city of Munich that it was bound to lose its independence. The farms have all disappeared but one, and that one is abandoned, and will be gone soon, it seems.
When the crucifix was being transported from Polling monastery to Seeon monastery, the cart halted at Forstenried, and six horses pulling and strong men pushing couldn’t move it any farther. A miracle!
Never argue with miracles.
And finally, we’re very close! Does Helena, on the right, look like an 80 years old mother of Constantine? No, she doesn’t. She rather looks like his sister, or wife...
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