The Pluralism Project at Harvard University
Remarks by Diana Eck, 8 July 2008
This is an historic day for Lowell House, Harvard University, and the Danilov Monastery, and it is a momentous milestone in the life of these bells. When I first saw the bells ten years ago this summer, I was surprised to see that the large bells were cast with religious icons on all sides. I soon learned, however, that they not only bear icons, but are icons themselves, the "singing icons" that for centuries created the sound-scape of Russia, ringing for religious and civic occasions, marking the hours of the liturgies and the festivals of the year.
The great bells of Russia have names, personalities, and voices. And they also have histories. Perhaps we should call them biographies. These bells sounded for many decades over the neighborhoods surrounding the Danilov Monastery in Moscow. The voice of Mother Earth bell could be heard miles away.
But in the late 1920s, the voice of the bells was silenced by a political regime committed to replacing the sound of bells with the sound of factory whistles and machines. Like many ideologies, religious and political alike, they became fanatical in their mission, not only silencing the voice of the bells, but destroying the bells themselves. All but four of the thousands of great bell-sets of Russia were lost in the height of the Stalin years.
These bells escaped that fate. They became, in effect, refugees gaining asylum in a foreign land. Many people were involved in their escape. There was Charles R. Crane, philanthropist and diplomat whose many projects were not governed by politics, but by principle. He loved Russian culture, knew its arts, and visited Russia some 20 times. He was aided by Thomas Whittemore, a Byzantine scholar who arranged for the purchase of the bells and their safe transport to America. Here in Cambridge Harvard president Abbott Lawrence Lowell, halted the construction of the clock tower planned for Lowell House and had it reworked to become a bell tower to house the refugees.
These bells were hoisted into their new home in the late fall of 1930 and rang for the first time in 1931. Here they had a new phase of life. Mostly untrained student bell-ringers sounded them in a new key. They rang out over Sunday lunches and Monday high tables. Their voice participated in Harvard Commencements and in both the 300th and 350th anniversary celebrations of the University. Their voices became part of the cheer when Harvard beat Yale in football. They served under six Harvard presidents.
They were here at Harvard during the Great Depression, during the years of Hitler rise to power and Stalin's reign in Russia. They were here in 1937 when the remaining monks of Danilov were executed. They were here during years of World War II, during the siege of Leningrad. They were here at Lowell House during the long years of the cold war and the nuclear arms race, years in which the U.S. and the Soviet Union were locked in mutual distrust and fear. They were here when things began to change with the period referred to as Glasnost. They were here when their old home, the Danilov Monastery, was returned to the church in 1983, and when the Millennium of Christianity in Russia was celebrated there in 1988. In those years, the monastery yearned for these bells and letters of inquiry began to arrive at Harvard, asking whether there was some way that the refugee bells might return home. The bells observed the 700th anniversary of the founding of the monastery from a distance, rung by Lowell House bellringers on March 17, 2003, in special observance of the festivities taking place the same day in Moscow.
Then, one cold day in December 2003, a delegation from Russia arrived to visit the bells, led by Father Superior Alexey and the Danilov bellringer, Father Roman. We climbed together into the bell tower, and under the mastery of Father Roman, the bells found their old voice again, for the first time in more than seventy years. It was a beautiful, rich, layered sound that none of us at Harvard had ever heard before. Later, there were discussions and a tentative agreement to proceed, involving the Russian delegation and Harvard vice-president Alan Stone and Frank Connors of the Office of the General Counsel.
The story of these past four and half years is long and complex. A structural study of the belltower would have to be done. Financial support would have to be found. We would need to visit foundries in Russia to find the right one to produce replacement bells. A project manager would have to oversee the whole process. It is a story too long to relate here today. But above all, it is the story of relationships, of developing friendships, of trust, patience, faithfulness, and cooperation. It is a story in which a distinguished University, an ancient Monastery, and a generous Foundation came together with a common purpose.
Today, we see the old bells and new bells, side by side. The old bells were cast by great bell masters in Russian foundries from the late 17th to the early 20th centuries. Over seventy years, the art of bell-casting was almost lost. The new bells were cast by a great bell master determined to recover that art.
One by one, these old bells have been lowered from their perch above Lowell House, the first stage of their journey home. And one by one, the new bells will be lifted into the belltower. These new bells will ring over an old university in the process of remarkable change. And the old bells will ring over a monastery, a city, and a nation in a time of rapid and remarkable change.
Our hope for today is that the voice of these bells, old and new, will link our communities together in friendship. In a world beset by division and intolerance, may these two sets of bells in Moscow and in Cambridge always give voice to the enduring value of harmony and cooperation.