The Great Divorce

Alongside Halloween, some mark October 31st as Reformation Day - commemorating the day that Martin Luther supposedly nailed his 95 Theses to the door of the church in Wittenberg, Germany, thus sparking the Protestant Reformation. Some persons with whom I am acquainted have said that they mark the day with parties and special sermons the Sunday before. I truly find it sad and decidedly ironic that anyone would make Reformation Day out as a thing to be celebrated.

Firstly, the original reformers rallied around the theory of Sola Scriptura. To catch up those not into theological lingo, this means that the reformers rejected (or at least thought they rejected) anything and everything that was not explicitly mentioned in the Bible. The great irony, then, is that they missed these two particular verses that come from the New Testament:

And not for them only do I pray, but for them also who through their word shall believe in me. That they all may be one, as you, Father, in me, and I in you; that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that you have sent me. And the glory which you have given me, I have given to them: that, they may be one, as we also are one. - John 17:20-22

Obey your prelates and be subject to them. For they watch as being to render an account of your souls: that they may do this with joy and not with grief. For this is not expedient for you. - Hebrews 13:17

Translation? Jesus himself prayed that his followers would remain one united body that would give glory to God through their unity. This notion hearkens back to the Israelites, the one nation chosen by God to be his people. In a similar way the Church is the one Church into which humanity must be gathered to be saved. To achieve this goal of unity, the divinely instituted authority of the Church must be respected. As the author of Hebrews reminds us, "Obey your prelates and be subject to them." Yes, I am aware that respect for authority is unfashionable these days, but it is necessary to maintain unity, lest pride and dissent develop.

Celebration of the Reformation as a happy event is insulting to the very word of God that the reformers themselves held in such high regard. It is shameful to celebrate the disunity that currently plagues Christianity. And, those who celebrate Reformation Day would do well to recall its fruits - thousands of Protestant denominations of various stripes claiming the absolute truth of the Gospel. This situation is a far cry from the unity desired of us by God.

Casting the Reformation as a triumphant event that liberated true Christianity from the oppression of Rome is simply foolish. If true Christianity had in fact been liberated in the 16th Century, logic would say that the reformers would have agreed on it. Of course, we know that the disputes among Calvin, Luther, and Zwingli were as heated as those between Luther and Pope Leo X. Bickering and divisions have been the hallmarks of Protestantism since.

In the end, celebrating the Reformation as a happy event is like throwing a party in honor of a divorce - in poor taste and misguided. Instead, we should use this day to pray for increased unity among Christians - truly a nobler goal.

This is one of my favorite orchestral works of all time (save, of course, anything by Mozart). It just has such power and emotion. Particularly astute listeners may notice the tune of "O God Beyond All Praising" in the midst of the composition.

Big Sky

I think there are some interesting peculiarities that set Michigan apart from the rest of the Midwest. We Michiganders seem (in general) to possess a peninsular mentality. Due to the enigmatic workings of geography, the state is decidedly cut off from the rest of the country. We are not on the main east-west trucking routes that characterize the rest of the states in our nations midsection. We are bordered mostly by the Great Lakes. To me, at least, this geography makes me feel protected in Michigan. There are hundreds of spots along the coast where you can have your back to a forest and look out over the water - it feels safe and serene and primordial.

Indiana, and the rest of the Midwest, is thus a bit exhilarating. It's wide. You can see forever. It's disconcerting how far you can see in some places. There's no sense of protection from the rest of the world. The wind that blows across Indiana could have started in Colorado and just kept truckin'. There was no Great Lake to buffer it before reaching its destination. In the rest of the Midwest, borders seem arbitrary. You can drive in pretty much any direction and see the same thing. Places are not defined. Counties just bleed into other counties. One might say that everything between the Rockies and the Ohio River is just a bunch of counties. There might be one decent sized city every three or four counties. The rest is mainly agriculture. And, for the most part, there's not much that distinguishes the counties of Nebraska from the counties of Indiana.

It's just interesting. Michigan is defined, encircled, enclosed. The rest of our region is ephemeral, infinite, and open. It is big.

The photo above was taken on a hill on the outskirts of Bismarck, North Dakota in June 2008.

Occupy the churches

"And I will go in unto the Altar of God: unto God, Who giveth joy to my youth" - Psalm 42:4

As an addendum to my recent thoughts on the Occupy Wall Street movement and the general feeling of discontent throughout the country at this particular point in time, I offer this advice - occupy the churches. Pray in God's house, receive God's grace through the mass and confession, adore Jesus in the Eucharist during adoration and benediction - these are the medicines for our societal ills. We are not facing just an economic crises. We are facing an economic crises based on a moral collapse that's been going on for decades now. We have created an environment where, as one commentator said "Everyone thought they could screw everyone else over and everyone would end up rich." The proverbial chickens are coming home to roost, I'm afraid.

I am reminded of St. Augustine's magnum opus The City of God wherein the great doctor of the Church contrasts the decaying Roman Empire where he lived with the eternity of God's presence in the Church. The city of God will always outlast any city of Man, no matter how much we would wish it otherwise. The Church - the same church that Augustine was a bishop of - has seen the rise and fall of whole civilizations. Are we so proud to think that our American civilization will have a fate any different from that of Rome, or Byzantium or even the British Empire? Civilizations come and go. God remains the same.

If we make God a priority in life, we will have the strength to deal with whatever disasters befall the city of Man. Be bold. Go in unto the altar of God, to God who gave joy to your youth!

(Photo Source)

Disjointed Friday Thoughts

I've not had much work to do this week, interestingly, so I've been more caught up in the news than I have been recently. Consequently, I've been trying to digest a lot of information all at once. Mind you, not all of these are specific current events stories, but simply things that have been rolling around and echoing in my head.

• I do not understand Occupy Wall Street, and, though I know I am not the most perceptive person, I do not think this is because a deficiency in intellect on my own part. The logic of the "Occupation" seems to be ephemeral at best and nonexistent for the most part. The best line of reasoning I can discern is: I feel entitled to the same preference given to corporations, but without any preference given to corporations (plus some other wacky, economy-destroying idea like waving the magical political wand and forgiving everyone's debt). Oh, and I don't want to have to pay for it, even though my college education has already been subsidized by the taxpayer. I get that people are angry with the injustices done by many powerful people with government help, but I feel like demanding the government to get out of business and further into ordinary citizen's lives is deficient in reason. Frankly and completely honestly, it all seems whiny and a bit silly.
• There are two interesting currents fighting against each other right now in terms of the environment and the economy. One says that the economy needs to keep growing in order to produce more wealth for more people - a simple economic principle, I think. On the other hand, there is a widespread movement to reduce consumption, and invest in long-lasting onetime purchases. With the economists shouting "start spending to get our economy back on track" and the environmentalists shouting "stop spending money on more stuff and reduce your environmental impact" we seem to be in for an interesting show in the years ahead. My personal opinion is that unbridled capitalism in our current way of thinking is completely unsustainable and that eventually we will have to go through some sort of "Great Reset" and find a more equitable way of living on this planet.
• I am becoming increasingly disenchanted with any person with any pretensions of running for the Presidency of this country. I am bound by my conscience to not support our current president due to his unjust stances on religious liberty and practice, conscience protection, and abortion. His record in these areas is simply heinous. No matter the rest of his stances, I cannot vote for a man with such a record on things so foundational to our liberty as life and God. On the other hand, the Republican Party Presidential Primary Circus Incorporated is similarly disenchanting. None of the candidates (to my knowledge) have a realistic idea of how to deal with promoting environmental infrastructure in this country, nor do any have a convincing plan on reinvesting in this country and its future (in the economy, tax policy, and education).
• Speaking of religious liberty, this will be a contentious issue very soon I'm afraid. Conflicts have been flaring up between church and state across the country on a variety of issues. In a number of cases, Catholic institutions and ministries have been forced to close their doors rather than continue ministering (often to the poorest and most vulnerable in society) in violation of their conscience. Free exercise of religion, as protected in the First Amendment is quickly devolving into "free exercise of religion, as long as you don't actually attempt to act on religious principles anywhere near any other member of society."This is a sorry development in a country that was once upon a time a refuge where people of multiple religions could practice and operate according to their own principles without having to worry about rendering unto Caesar that which is God's.

That's all for now. In more personal news, I will be heading up to Notre Dame this weekend to visit friends. I always enjoy visits there, and I'm sure it will be a grand old time. Happy Friday!

Blessed Charles, pray for us

Today is the feast of Blessed Charles of Austria, the last emperor of Austria-Hungary. In our current age, when most politicians are barely decent, let alone saintly, we need the prayers of Blessed Charles ever more urgently. Charles is recognized by the Church as having been a lone voice for peace during World War I, as well as a personally holy man. His marriage to his wife Zita was exemplary of Christian matrimony, and his sense of duty to God and his subjects is worth imitating. In my estimation, it is a shame that the Allies pushed Charles off the throne after the war. A man of his moral character would have been a good bastion against the increased radicalism in Europe in the interwar period. But, alas, the Twentieth Century saw Christian monarchs as unfashionable, and deposed them without pity.

In any event, let us pray unceasingly through the intercession of Blessed Charles for the strengthening of the moral fiber of all of our leaders of authority, both civil and religious.

Photo: The blessed Emperor greets one of his subjects

Otto Wagner + Sundry Liturgical Rants

Here's a little parish church design based on some built and unbuilt precedents from Otto Wagner. Wagner was a key figure in the artistic movement known as the Viennese Secession, a group of Art Nouveau artists who rebelled against the classicist artistic establishment. However, though they rebelled against the Beaux-Arts classicism of Vienna, they maintained much in terms of ornament, decoration, and composition that would be discarded around the middle of the 20th Century.

This particular design is based a bit on Wagner's design for a Franciscan church in Vienna. It is a small church, with room for perhaps 300 persons. It is my humble opinion that many parish churches built in the past thirty-ish years are over-sized (as well as over-lit and over-microphoned, but that is for another post). People get lost in large parishes.

Anyways, the composition is essentially a circle within a square in plan, and a cube topped with a dome in three-dimensions. The circle and square are primal geometric shapes that have a lot of symbolic richness to them: the circle represents the eternity of God, while the square represents the earth and its four corners (decided by whomever decided the earth has corners). Consequently, the unity of the circle and square can be interpreted as God and earth uniting - which of course occurs in the mass as the sacrifice of Jesus is re-presented.

Though the nave is round, the altar is located in the liturgical east. In this scheme, I have actually pushed the altar against the wall, which would allow for ad orientem worship only. Translation: the priest and the people face the same direction during the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Already I hear the howling of a certain generation saying that Vatican II did away with that unpastoral practice. But, ladies and gentlemen, having read Sacrosanctum Concilium (Vatican II's constitution on the liturgy), I can find no mandate that orders the priest face the people. But, I digress: ad orientem worship has its own benefits which I will no doubt enumerate someplace else sometime in the future.

On both sides of the nave reside confessionals. Yes, those archaic boxes have returned as well! They're in continuation with tradition, and seem to me to convey the sacramental nature of confessing a bit better than some whitewashed "Reconciliation Room" that turns the sacrament into some sort of postmodern self-help session. Wow, I am ranting a lot tonight!

The choir is placed in a choir loft, along with an organ. Ah, the organ, another vintage element, which, according to Vatican II, was to "maintain pride of place" in liturgical music. Well, we certainly have ignored that haven't we? We've tossed out the organ and Gregorian chant in favor of folk-guitar renditions of "Gather Us In"...because they're more prayerful?

Back to the architecture, please! The detailing is the flowing, organic lines typical of the Art Nouveau movement. Because of this movement's short lifespan, very few churches were built in this style. This, I think, is unfortunate. Let us overlook the architectural mediocrity of 1950-present and attempt to grow from the tradition where we left off.

Here endeth the rant. In short: Wagner, Vatican II, organ, church.

I love the dunes. The western coast of Michigan is blessed with many stretches of these sandy heaps, not least of which is the shore of Big Sable Point near Ludington. Today, me and my parents took a little trip up to Ludington State Park (not more than an hour and a half drive) to enjoy the lake and the nice - though horrifically windy - weather. We parked and then walked about a mile and a half to the Big Sable Point Lighthouse, which we were able to climb for some nice 360 degree views over the lake and the dunes. Michigan in the fall, though often cold and windy, is my favorite time of year: there are no summer crowds, the leaves are colorful, and the light just seems brighter.

Some Gothic Revival Thoughts

Last night I was struck with what I call an "art attack" - ideas that have been germinating for a while simply needed to be let onto the paper. The result was a facade of a Gothic Revival church. This facade design takes in a number of influences, chiefly the civil and ecclesiastical architecture of Bertram Goodhue, the Craftsman aesthetic of early 20th Century America, and King's College Chapel at Cambridge University. Oh, and perhaps a bit of Art Deco snuck in on the sidelines.

In composition, this facade hearkens back to Goodhue's noble and austere design of the Rockefeller Chapel at the University of Chicago. There are two small towers that flank a large, gabled, central mass pierced by an immense window. Twin portals finish out the bottom of the picture. In detail, however, the more - how shall I say - American aesthetic comes into play. Preference for straight lines, right angles, and clarity is established in the overall decorative scheme. This preference was perhaps best elucidated by the well-known works of Frank Lloyd Wright.

The overarching decorative scheme centers on the person of Christ in various ways. The twin portals are divided by a stylized stone depiction of the crucifixion. Below the crucifixion scene are the symbols of the Four Evangelists over the door frames - symbolic of the Church's mission to take Christ out into the world and evangelize. Above the portals is the large western window. This window would likely depict scenes from the life of the Virgin Mary - a lens through which we can view the way to Christ more clearly. The small towers are crowned with twin angels, each holding a shield depicting a Christological symbol (the cross, the Chi-Rho, the Alpha and Omega, and the Lamb). Crowning the entire facade is the Resurrected Christ in glory (similar, perhaps, to the great statue of the Cristo Redentor that crowns Rio de Janeiro). The angels on either side bow down, bearing the instruments of the Passion.

Driving this particular mental exercise was a desire to attempt to develop an American style for church building. I am indeed enthused with the contemporary drive toward a more traditional ecclesiastical design ethos, but sometimes these projects can seem slightly imported, or foreign, in a way. I think this is because some traditional designers tend to interpret tradition to simply mean "anything from the Italian Renaissance" or "anything Gothic" instead of perhaps its more authentic definition of "building on our shared past." This is why I attempted to draw so many architectural allusions to American movements - we need to build on our shared architectural heritage as a nation, while not disregarding the architectural traditions of our mother, the Church, and our teacher, Western civilization.

Please click the image to view larger, so that the detail can be better viewed.

Thoughts on ArtPrize, Three Years On

This past weekend I was home (yet again) and paid another visit to downtown Grand Rapids. It was the final weekend of the annual two-and-a-half week spectacle known as ArtPrize. Founded in 2009 by Amway heir and entrepreneur, Rick DeVos, ArtPrize is a radical and profound community event. Open to any artist that can find a venue (in the defined downtown district), the competition is voted on by the general public and comes with a $250,000 grand prize - the largest art prize in the world. The event has energized Grand Rapids intensely - estimates say that it has a $7 million dollar economic impact each year, and that this year 400,000 people visited.

All that said, however, ArtPrize has its detractors. Many claim that because of its democratic voting process and open-to-all mentality, good art is not necessarily rewarded. There was considerable outcry from the so-called art snobs when the top ten were announced this year. They were, in my opinion, not the best entries. Others claim that ArtPrize is nothing but a huge publicity stunt for Grand Rapids.

However, my opinion is that the democratization of art is a good thing - especially in our current economic times when the arts are the first to see the axe in federal, state and local budgets. Since ArtPrize is essentially free for artists (aside from material costs), there is no downside to creating good art, even if it does not win in the end. Even if a certain piece of art is only seen by a fraction of the ArtPrize crowds, it can still have an impact on a viewer's thinking. I have had this experience many times.

Of course, it's the large, showy, cool pieces of art in prime locations that will always win the competition. I hate to burst that bubble for all of you, but simple math seems to support me here. If you have a good location, you increase views of your art, leading to an increase in votes for your art. Perhaps this where a possible improvement can come in - having venues be more discerning in what pieces of art they allow to be displayed on their premises.

In any event, the competition was never meant to be an end-all decision on the merits of any particular art - Rick DeVos said as much when he ignited the competition three years ago. It's purpose was to create a huge public forum for discussing art. In that respect, any ArtPrize event will be a success. It has generated a huge public response every year from a variety of media outlets, and, given the ever-changing nature of art, this will likely continue.

Yet another lens through which to view ArtPrize is its effect on Grand Rapids' image as a city. Young people are attracted to cities with vibrant urban life. In order to stop the Michigan brain drain, cities like Grand Rapids need to get serious about their urban strategies. Young people, having by and large lived most of their lives in soulless suburbs, want someplace to live that has vibrance and excitement. Now, of course, economic development of a city cannot happen overnight, and cannot happen simply on the back of a two-week event each year. However, events like ArtPrize can get people interested in downtown. People have to love a place before they will want to change it for the better. ArtPrize is a way to help people fall in love with all that Grand Rapids has to offer.

Visibilium Omnium et Invisibilium

This is a drawing I did for the 37th Annual KRob Architectural Delineation Competition, which I was encouraged to enter by one of my professors. The subject matter is a sort of abstract hall of Gothic pillars and vaults. Light emanates from somewhere in the distance, casting strange shadows on the floor. It's a bit surrealist, and detail is deliberately avoided. This is not a real place.

The title, I think reveals a bit more about the work. I chose the phrase "Visibilium Omnium et Invisibilium" as the title of the piece. This phrase comes from the Nicene Creed and is translated as "All things, visible and invisible" (or, as it is currently rendered in the mass, "All that is seen and unseen"). The title adds another layer of surrealism, given the implied infinity of the view. The viewer is meant to feel that this huge hall could encompass all that is visible and invisible. Perhaps it's a portrait of the universe.

It will get a bit of touch-up before I send it off to the competition to be judged. Let me know what you think!

Thinking Like an Architect

Architectural education is a curious thing. This is because the profession itself is curious. The architect, in his professional capacity, is the conductor of a sprawling symphony that he needs to conduct in some meaningful way. The architect (or, more likely, architects) must orchestrate client, site, contractor, engineer, the public, not to mention the entire poetics and tectonics of the building. This is what makes architectural education interesting: in an age where everyone is a specialist in something, the architect needs to be a generalist in everything.

That, I think, is the fun of it. I struggle to think of any subject that cannot be made to relate to architecture. It's interesting that in each of my classes outside of studio, the subject matter finds its way back into architecture in some way. 

• In my Honors class about math and physics, we were discussing the fourth and fifth dimensions. This got me thinking how you would build a five-dimensional building. It is perhaps impossible, but an interesting thought experiment on form nonetheless. Perhaps diagrams explaining five-dimensional space would make interesting organizational patterns? 
• In my Humanities class, we are discussing the various ways that man has dealt with the disconnect between the ideal and real human experience. How does architecture manifest or obscure this disconnect? Should it do one more than the other? 
• In the book The Lives of a Cell, which I am reading just for fun, the author speculates on our evolution toward creatures that possess communal thoughts. Can a building think communally? How do buildings think? How do buildings communicate thought? Such fun questions!

These are but a few examples of what happens when you become trained to think like an architect. That is, once you begin to see the entire world as a vast and intricate and fascinating and fun puzzle - of which we do not know all of the pieces. This is the goal of architectural education. Everything else is simply means to that end.

Being a generalist is what makes conversing with colleagues interesting. Just this evening I had a quite lengthy discussion with a friend in the architecture program. It was what I would call an intelligent conversation. It was interesting because our topics ranged from ornament vs. minimalism, to Vitruvius, to Thomas Aquinas, to New Zealand, to system integration, to grad school, to professional practice, to academia, and to church pews. By now you might be thinking: who the hell would ever talk about this crap? The answer: architects. Because we were taught to. Because the world has these things in it. This is why I find all of my friends' majors fascinating: I can get something out of each of them. 

House in My Head

 We've been apart too long, O Blog Readers! Recently, I have been inordinately busy with the culmination of my first studio project of the semester. Now that everything has been completed, presented, and turned in, things are a great deal quieter on this side of the screen. That said, I thought I'd discuss my studio project in general and give you a feel of what I learned et cetera, et cetera.

The title of the project was The House in My Head, giving one a clue as to its residential nature. The crucible of the project was that we were to design and give life to a house that our client had in their head. Now, our clients were other members of our studio section. So, in essence, each person was both a client and an architect during this project: we shaped someone else's house while giving another person direction on where to take our own house. It was a very insightful project in that it allowed a first-hand experience with the client-architect relationship.

In order to make this project more successful, we, as clients, were not allowed to simply dictate to our architects the number of bedrooms we wanted, or what we wanted our kitchen to look like. On the contrary, we had to express to our architect the overall feeling and experiences of dwelling that we want our house to embody. This was achieved through a series of preliminary experiential exercises such as narrative writing, collage, and conceptual models.

From this idealistic level of feelings, it was the architect's challenge to translate them into concrete elements of living. But, we were consistently challenged to not think in terms of conventional house "parts" but in terms of what we need to accommodate in the client's everyday life. To that end, perspective drawings and models took center stage in the requirements of the project - as these are the easiest means of placing yourself into created spaces.

My client wished to live in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains overlooking Denver. His original narrative and illustrative collage conveyed feelings of intrigue, overlapping, folding, and pushing the boundary between landscape and building. To that end, I developed a house that folds along the crest of the ridge along the main datum of a very thick stone wall. This stone wall is the device that weaves throughout the home, creating spaces as it interacts with other planes throughout.

The house is not enormous, as the client wished to maintain a tight-knit sense of familiarity throughout the house. However, it is zoned in a way that makes each portion of the house seem distinct from the others: there are two sleeping zones that bookend the house, and in the middle are a dining/kitchen zone and a more private family gathering zone. Thinking in terms of zones rather than rooms can help guide the design more forcefully - putting together four large puzzle pieces is much easier than putting together seventeen small puzzle pieces.

In the end, I thought this project was very rewarding. My client agreed that this was a successful visualization of the house in his head. As an aside, my project, and a few other selected projects of my colleagues, will be on display at The Artist Within in downtown Muncie during the Art Walk this Thursday evening.