Of parabolic vaults

Here's a little design that I came up with. It is a cross-sectional view through a church, looking toward the altar. Stylistically, it is a bit of a curiosity. It started from a square plan based on some Byzantine precedents. Then, it got a rather Baroque looking altar. Add in some Art Nouveau lines and a parabolic arch reminiscent of the Engelbrekts church in Stockholm, and you have something quite intriguing indeed.

If a may engage in a bit of self-congratulation: this is the type of design that is appropriate for a modern church. Yes, the form, plan, and decor is arranged in a traditional manner. But, the stylistic cues come from very diverse sources. The arch over the apse has a certain Louis Sullivan feel to it. The altar, with its domed canopy, evokes Otto Wagner's work on the Church Am Steinhof in Vienna. Even the slim proportion of the Roman brick hearkens to Frank Lloyd Wright.

Short story long: it is traditional, but not historicist. It cannot be pegged to one time period, but it attempts to synthesize some of the highlights of the past 150 years into a cohesive whole.  

Church in the Round

One of the unfortunate developments in Catholic architecture since the Second Vatican Council has been the proliferation of churches designed with seating in the round. This switch-up has very little precedent in liturgical architecture - with even the members of the early church all facing the same way in their celebrations of the mass - and it causes not a few theological problems. Speaking from experience in worshipping in some of these churches, one can tend to become more distracted when you are facing other members of the congregation across the way, with the altar merely as a point between the two sides.

This is not to say, however, that there were never round churches prior to 1963. Quite the contrary: there is a rich tradition in the Western Church of round buildings for worship. One need only peruse one or two Italian cities to discover a few circular churches. The thing to recall about these churches, however, is that they placed the altar at one end of the circle, rather than in the center. This preserved the processional nature of the mass and the theology of pilgrimage toward God's dwelling place.

So, in light of that tradition of church architecture, I engaged in a bit of circular church design myself (you knew that was coming). Aesthetically, this church is based vaguely on the Baroque churches of Paris and the splendid Marmorkirken in Copenhagen. The plan is a cylindrical center fused with a Greek cross producing four equal wings. Each wing has a certain purpose: the sanctuary is in one wing, the narthex in another, a chapel in one, and a sacristy and vestry opposite. The pews are all arranged rectilinearly, facing the altar, with the tabernacle behind it.

As ever, click the image to view larger.

Design for a Library

Inspired by my recent post about the Bibliotheque Nationale de France, I engaged in a bit of library design myself. The result is a structure that attempts to meld Beaux-Arts classicism with a touch of Art Nouveau decorative whimsy (perhaps it could even be classified as an American interpretation of the Baroque). I am quite happy with the overall composition, though there are some things that I would likely change if I were to start over.

The inscription on the bottom comes from the Old Testament book of Sirach and reads, "Wisdom breathes life into her sons and gives help to those who seek her." I thought it relevant to include this quote in order to present a library as a place to seek wisdom.

A Humble Suggestion for the Local Parish

OK, so it is a bit grandiose. The other day I was thinking about the parish church I currently attend here in Muncie. It is not the most inspiring church in the world, but it works very nicely for worship, etc. That being said, I let loose my design ideas and came up with a renovation that improves upon the sacred character of the space.

First of all, the altar and sanctuary are pushed back to the wall of the church. Presently, a rather small octagonal altar sits in the middle of the room and looks a bit like an island adrift in a sea of beige. Moving the altar to a more traditional spot along the back wall frees up the church arrangement so that the pews can be arranged in orderly, rectilinear rows. This simple movement adds directionality to the worship in the space, contributing to the theology of the Church and her worship as a movement toward God.

Secondly, the tabernacle is moved from its current placement in a chapel off the narthex to the center of the church, immediately behind the altar. The altar represents the meeting point of heaven and earth during the mass, while the tabernacle is the new "tent of meeting" for when mass is not occurring. It is natural to place these two objects together, yet this is often not the case. A cloth covering the tabernacle is changed according to the color of the liturgical season.

Thirdly, a backdrop, or reredos is shown behind the sanctuary. At the center, of course, is the tabernacle,  flanked by the traditional six candlesticks. An image of the dove, a symbol of the Holy Spirit, is shown behind the tabernacle, indicative of God's constant presence in the church. Off to each side is a niche and a statue; the Virgin Mary is on the left, while St. Francis (patron of the parish) is on the left. The inclusion of these figures reminds us that our worship is intimately connected with the worship of the saints in heaven. Above the tabernacle is a Latin inscription which says Ecce Panis Angelorum which means Behold the bread of angels.

St. Francis is blessed with a large wooden crucifix that is not shown in the design. It would continue to hang in its current position which would place it above the altar. Christ's sacrifice is the center of the mass and would remain as such.

This exercise was simply to see how a bit of traditional architectural intervention can improve even the blandest of 1970s churches. As stated before, there is nothing horrible about the church now, but we can always dream, can't we?

The picture, as ever, can be clicked to view larger.

An Ideal Parish

The practice of envisioning ideals in architecture has a wide historical precedent. Ancient architects sought ideal proportions related to the human figure. The Gothic masons sought the soaring and airy ideal of heaven. The Renaissance artists looked for ideal ordering systems for the new science of perspective (Piero della Francesca's Ideal City comes immediately to mind). In this vein, I have been experimenting with various ecclesiastical ideals. These are not perfections, as architecture - like anything else - can never reach a state of perfection. These are ideas that seem best for a particular purpose or use, this one being a house of God.

This plan for an ideal urban parish is derived mainly from Austrian Baroque precedents, with some Otto Wagner and Craftsman detailing worked in. The scheme is split among a mid-sized church (with a protruding chapel for adoration), a baptistry off of a connecting corridor, and a parish hall/office complex for more sociable events.

The church is oriented traditionally, with the altar at the liturgical east. It is arranged to be suitable for both ad orientem and versus populum celebrations of the mass. The tabernacle, which should be the heart of every church, is directly behind the altar against the wall - thus unifying the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist with the sacrifice of the altar. A suitably grand ambo rises from the sanctuary to a dignified height proper to the proclamation of the word of God. A less grandiose lectern is on the opposite side of the sanctuary for the cantor to lead the Psalm, etc.

Two sacristies (one for the priest, one for the servers) round out the symmetry of the east end of the church. 4 niche spaces along the outer walls of the church are filled with shrines to various saints, to remind the faithful that they are not alone on their faith journey. Confessionals are placed in the back of the church near the entrance from the narthex.

A grand corridor leading from the righthand side of the church leads to the baptistry and the parish hall. Having a baptistry as a detached room has a rich tradition in Catholic architecture. This baptistry is large enough to accommodate one or two family groups for a baptism. The parish hall, which is not a sacred space, is nonetheless designed with an eye for pleasing architecture. So often a church hall is simply tacked on to an existing church with no respect for the church. This parish hall has less visual hierarchy than the church, yet exists in harmony with it spatially and materially.

As always, click the image to enlarge (and forgive the wobbly appearance of the church floor plan; these drawings were done without a straightedge).

Additional Church Design

Here is a section view of the previously doodled church of "Our Lady of Joy" which can be found in the post immediately below this one. As I mentioned in the post concerning the church's exterior, this particular design has been an exercise in Art-Nouveau and Gothic forms. The interplay of hard and soft, organic and regular, and historic and new were explored. The intent was to create an idea that draws from the vast patrimony of ecclesial art and architecture in the Western world, and extends those concerns into the modern world. While working on this very quick design, I was reminded of one of the most important documents of the Second Vatican Council, Gaudium et Spes - which is subtitled "The Church in the Modern World. This is not a church of the modern world, but the church of Christ made present in the modern world.

The particulars of layout, symbolism and overall design will now be dealt with. The altar, the focus of the entire action of the church gathered in a liturgical celebration, is prominently placed front-and-center in the chancel. It is crowned by a canopy, termed a ciborium or a baldacchino. This gives vertical emphasis to the otherwise horizontal altar. On the front of the ciborium canopy is inscribed the phrase "Ecce Agnus Dei" which translated means, "Behold, the Lamb of God" (c.f. John 1:29). The ciborium is crowned by the four winged creatures from the Book of Ezekiel, which represent the symbols of the Four Evangelists: Matthew (winged man), Mark (winged lion), Luke (winged ox), and John (eagle). They surround the statue of the Risen Christ atop the canopy. The tabernacle, related intimately to the altar, is placed against the wall directly behind the altar, beneath a large crucifix. The relationship between altar, tabernacle, and crucifix is visually maintained, reinforcing the sacrificial nature of Christ's crucifixion, as well as the presence of that sacrifice in the Eucharist - made present in the mass and retained in the tabernacle.

The ambo (pulpit) is located to the left of the altar, and is large enough to command the dignity required for proclamation from the word of God. It is not merely a podium, but a structure that has a sense of gravitas and importance. The priest's chair is located to the right of the altar, facing inward toward the ciborium, rather than toward the people. This is to focus all participants, including the priest, on the events happening at the altar, the work of Christ, rather than the personality of the priest.

Two niches round off the back of the chancel (or sanctuary: the area where the altar is located, rather than the Protestant understanding of the word which implies the entire worship space). The niche on the left is occupied by a sculpture of the Virgin Mary, Mother of God, and Mother of the Church. The right niche is dedicated to St. Joseph, patron of the Universal Church. Two side chapels off to each side are designed for private prayer. One is dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the other to Sts. Peter and Paul.

The large window bears explanation as well. The central figure is that of the Virgin Mary with the Child Jesus. The imagery is taken from the Book of Revelation 12:1, "And a great sign appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars." The Lord and the Blessed Mother are flanked by two angels, each holding an instrument of Christ's passion (c.f. the Icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help). Two angels on the lower right and left of the window each hold a censer, and the incense smoke rises upward to the center. These angels represent the eternal liturgy of heaven, as described in the Book of Revelation. The dove, symbol of the Holy Spirit, crowns the top of the composition.

The total arrangement of the sanctuary seeks to impart a sense of the transcendental nature of the mass on the worshipper. The events of the Church Militant that take place within this sacred architecture are intimately linked to the actions of the Church Triumphant in heaven.

Click the image to enlarge

The Return of the Church Doodles

I recently doodled this design for a large parish church which respects the historic tradition of Western, Catholic architecture. However, this is not a slavish copy of a Gothic church somewhere, it is a natural growth from the whole canon of architecture.

Specific references invoked in this design include the the Neo-Gothic chapel at the University of Chicago, and other Neo-Gothic works, particularly those of the turn-of-the-century firm Cram and Ferguson. The detailing and ornament, however, is not stereotypically Gothic, but a mixture of fluid Art Nouveau forms and more rectilinear modules reminiscent of the Viennese Secession movement. I think the melding of these three design vocabularies results in a project that can bring sacred ornament and detail along with more "American" construction methods.

With the radical departure from and the subsequent shunning of any architecture that is not modern in its design philosophy, designs like these help reach back and recover the built heritage we share as Catholics, Christians, and members of Western society.